#day six: rocky relationships

[luveline]

More spencer x hotch's sister? I love her relationship with hotch so much btw! Maybe spencer learns some of what she went through in her past?

“What did you get Haley for your six months?” you ask. 

Aaron shakes his basket of fries. You can smell them from your side of the table, salt and grease from the fryer. He doesn’t need to see you looking, maybe he doesn’t care that you want one or not, he tips half of the basket onto your plate and shrugs. “It was a long time ago, I’m not sure I remember. For our first year together I gave her a promise ring, I think.” 

“I don’t think I can get him a promise ring…” You swirl your drink with your straw. Fizzy bubbles rush to the surface. “A ring might be nice, though. Can he wear jewellery in the field?” 

“One nondescript ring would be fine.” 

“Maybe a necklace.” You stab a few of his given fries on your fork and smile. “I’m very stressed, but he’s been so kind the whole time. He never makes me worry about anything.” 

“Spencer is kind.” Aaron glances to the side as a couple sits in the booth opposite. “Admittedly, I was worried. But you’re happy, so I’m happy.” 

“Six months is a long time for no fights.” 

“Honey, some people don’t fight.” 

You toy with a stray piece of lettuce. “I’m really glad that we don’t, but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.” 

“It won’t drop. You think I’d let you date Spencer if I suspected he was secretly evil?” 

“There are a few things wrong with that question…” You wipe your mouth with a napkin. “Okay, it won’t drop. Can we get, um, dessert? Rocky road sundaes?” They’re Aaron’s favourite, so they’re yours, too. 

Despite his assurances, you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. You think about your conversation with Aaron for the days leading up to your six month anniversary with Spencer, which he aptly names your ‘half anniversary’. He doesn’t plan any surprises —he sends you a PDF with different options for everything. Five different restaurants with different options for courses, moods, and settings. There are notes for each place and why you might like them, and there are activities for each one afterwards based on the location. It’s so thoughtful it makes you feel sick. The other shoe looms, and looms. 

You choose a smaller restaurant just outside of the busy city, with a beautiful outdoor eating area on a stone veranda. It’s lively but not crowded, secluded but not completely private. 

Spencer tucks your seat in, and he kisses your cheek before he takes his own. When he does, he looks across the table at you, and says, “Wow, you’re so pretty.” 

“You think so?” 

“You’re beautiful.” He gives you one of his not so shy, almost cheesy smiles, like he wants to laugh. “Do you want your gift now or later?” 

“Is it rude to say I want it now?” 

“No, it’s not rude. I’ll feel better once I know you like it.” 

He presents you with a box wrapped in dark blue crepe paper and rounded silver star stickers. There’s twine wrapped around it and bowed, too beautiful to want to open. You look between him and the present in awe. “This is real pretty,” you say softly. 

“It’s nicer inside,” he says. 

You unravel the twin carefully, and you take off the paper to reveal a large, flat box. You put the paper in your jacket pocket, folded primly to keep. Spencer waits patiently. 

You press your thumbnail into the box’s seam and push. 

It’s four pieces of jewellery. What catches your eye first is the sapphires, blue crystal with deep dark hearts pressed into the pendant of a necklace, the heart of a bracelet, and the main bodies of their matching earrings. All simple, elegant pieces, and compiled, their impressiveness is amplified. Your breath catches. You don’t need to be an expert in jewellery to immediately assign a ballpark price tag, and it’s a lot. It’s sort of startling. 

But the price doesn’t matter half as much as the sentiment. 

“Do you remember them?” he asks softly. 

Fourth date. Hand in hand, you and Spencer walked through a shopping centre with iced drinks and churros, and you’d paused for a few seconds to ogle the jewellery display. You’d pointed straight at the sapphire bracelet and said, “That’s gorgeous. I think if I save, I can get it for Christmas.” 

“I know it’s not Christmas,” Spencer says, “I’m sorry, I cheated. But I hope you like them.” 

“Spencer, I love them, I love them,” —you reach your hand across the table— “I love you. Thank you.” 

He smiles at you. “Yeah, I love you, too.” 

You can’t stop yourself from getting up to hug him. He bends under your weight and holds your arms, doesn’t wince when you press the entirety of your face to his hair and breathe. “Thank you,” you whisper, kissing his forehead twice, “thank you, I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” He takes your face into his hand before you can leave. “You like them?” he asks. 

“I love them.” 

His smile is everything. “I really did cheat, I wrote it down when we got home and you know I can’t forget the things I read,” he murmurs, pulling you in for a kiss. 

Six months later and your heart still skips a beat. Doesn’t matter that he has an eidetic memory, what’s important is that he wrote it down. 

You take another hug, to his delight, and return to your seat. Your presents wait in a bag under the table. Two books, one jewellery box. He goes for the smaller box first. 

“It’s a ring,” you say, too nervous to let him discover it by himself. “I know you don’t often wear them, but I thought maybe it’s because it’s not something you’d get for yourself, and I think it would look good on you.” 

He opens the box with a smile. So pretty, and exuberantly bright. “Oh, wow.” 

“I don’t know if brands mean anything to you, but it’s Vivienne–”

“It’s beautiful,” he interrupts, “I love it. What finger do I wear it on?” 

“Most wear it on their marriage finger, I think, but you obviously don’t have to do that.” 

He slips it onto his ring finger, turns his hand one way and another, and there’s this joy that echoes all the way across the table from his very core. “Thank you. I love it, and now every time I look down I'll remember why you gave it to me.” 

You spend a lot of time apart, what with both of you working. “I thought that, too.” 

He takes the books next. His laugh is soft. “I’m not surprised.” 

“They’re… they’re my personal copies.” 

He startles at that. “They are?” 

“Yeah. Uh,” —you point at the first— “that’s my favourite, and I think it could be your favourite too.” 

“And this one?” he asks gently, slipping the first underneath the second. 

“Aaron gave that one to me. I know what you’re thinking, okay, that I’m giving something to you I should really keep. Maybe it makes you uncomfortable, I don’t know, but I love you.” You lick your lips. “It’s nice to fall in love. And you’ve made it so easy.” 

He stares at you, lips parted. 

You panic. “It was hard, growing up, and I know everyone struggles but it was hard. If it weren’t for my brother… I feel like it sticks to me and you’ve never made me feel that way. You love me for me. I was convinced nobody would ever do that.” 

“I know it was hard,” he says. 

“Really hard, sometimes, but you aren’t. I’m never scared of you.” 

He reaches across the table to touch your hand. “You aren’t supposed to be scared of anyone, angel.”

Warmth blossoms under his touch. You shake off the fog. “It’s not just about all of that, I swear, I really do think you’ll like them. But if I got it all wrong just lie to me, okay?” 

“You didn’t get anything wrong, shut up,” he says. Spencer stands, his turn to hug you, but he goes about it differently. He tips your head back and he kisses you, and his nose is a pressed line in your cheek as he squeezes you to him. “I’d be surprised if anybody who’s ever met you didn’t love you. Okay? Thank you for trusting me with it.” 

It, and not them, not the books. 

He peels away. You beam at one another. 

“Should we eat?” you ask, feeling pleased and shy at once. 

He kisses you again, one quick peck. “Yes, we can eat.”

[maxknightley]

if elaine benes and george costanza ever decided to fight each other here's how I think it would go down.

george plans for a frontal assault, so he rents a bunch of bruce lee movies in the hopes that watching them will teach him how to fight. he ultimately gets bored halfway through the first one, decides "eh that's probably enough," and watches a bunch of old looney tunes shorts instead.

elaine, meanwhile, tries to play mind games. she starts hanging out with george's parents and gradually worms her way into their life, with the end goal of becoming a better son than he is. for obvious reasons, this backfires: frank and estelle start driving her insane, while george is thrilled to have them off his back.

"it's amazing, jerry! they never call, they never criticize me, they don't pressure me into coming over... it's like I don't even exist to them anymore! I've finally achieved my boyhood dream!"

unable to hang out with either of them alone lest the other accuse him of "picking a side," and unable to convince them to make peace, jerry finds himself spending time exclusively with his current girlfriend and kramer, usually both at once. at first he's worried that she'll either fall for kramer or grow sick of him, but miraculously, the previously-rocky relationship only grows stronger. jerry ultimately ends up paying kramer to be his professional wingman - though most of his "salary" comes in the form of the enormous meals kramer purchases whenever the trio goes out for dinner.

("you don't even eat half of it! you always have to get a box!" "I'm planning ahead, Jerry. this gravy train can't last forever, but in six months, I'll still be living large on leftover tiramisu and strip steak!")

ultimately, the appointed date arrives. george, realizing he's wasted the past two weeks and has no chance of victory, uses the only combat technique he can think of: convincing kramer to show up as well, and wearing a loud shirt, a cheap wig, and a bandolier of take-out boxes to try to confuse elaine. The gambit succeeds, ultimately culminating in elaine beating kramer to a pulp; once she's finished, her anger is quelled, and she and george make up.

jerry and his girlfriend, forced to eat dinner alone for the first time in several days, spend the night together in icy silence. ultimately, they decide on a mutual break-up; "the relationship just didn't make sense without kramer. where is he, anyway?"

kramer (hipsterii doofus) flees a stray dog (canis devourus), who has caught the scent of his vast assortment of take-out.

[walkinthrudaisies]

This Love

dean winchester x fem!reader

2.3k | angst, fluff

summary: your relationship with dean winchester was always rocky. when he takes it too far, will he finally realize that the feelings he has for you is more than just hate?

the relationship you shared with dean winchester was unlike anything you’ve ever had.

at first glance, dean was rough around the edges. a type of guy that at one glance, fathers were telling their daughters to stay away from him.

you had met john winchester and his two boys when you were only seven years old. dean had been ten and sam was six, both brothers sticking close together as your dads conversed with each other.

john had come to your father to talk about a hunt that they should team up on, suggesting that leaving dean to watch over you and sam was the perfect way to keep their kids from screwing anything up.

that following week was a strange one. sam was a great form of company, and the two of you became fast friends. dean on the other hand was very standoffish, almost as if he didn’t trust you.

your relationship with dean winchester had formed around him not trusting any of your motives and you thinking he was kind of weird because come on, you were six, what the hell could you possibly do that made dean not trust you.

as the years went on, the two of you never really made any effort to strengthen your relationship. it was like you two were at a joined agreement. you’ll be nice to each other but that doesn’t mean you were the best of friends, or even stayed in the same room alone for more than five minutes.

sam always hated the way you guys interacted with each other. you were his best friend after all, and it would mean the world to him if you and his brother got along.

he also thought you two would be the perfect couple, and secretly had been plotting on getting you guys together since he was eight, but that wasn’t important.

but there was always one hurtle that sam had to jump over to make that happen. your father. since the jump your dad didn’t like dean. he always rambled on about how irresponsible the boy was, how much of a player he’d become and how boys like that would just break your heart.

even now, at the ripe age of 23, your father still went on about how that winchester boy was nothing but trouble, and how perfect you and sam would be together.

you though, had other thoughts on your mind that didn’t revolve around a relationship. you had just graduated university and were looking for something to make you feel fulfilled in life. so why not go and join your best friend with his journey on fighting monsters in america. what could possibly be the downside in that?

oh yeah, his overtly annoying older brother.

the couple of years that you hadn’t seen dean seemed to have garnered a change in the older winchester’s behaviour. before, he would give you a few short words and be nothing but professional and work focused around you.

now, he would stop at nothing to poke fun at you and make your life on the road with him and sam a living hell.

if it wasn’t for criticizing your hunting skills or making fun of how you dressed, he was always taking jabs at you and slewing out snide comments that made tears gather at your lash line.

you couldn’t understand why dean hated you so much. it’s not like anything had changed in the time you hadn’t seen him. yeah you grew your hair out and he became even more of a womanizer than he was before but that shouldn’t be the reason he was acting like this.

today was just like any other. you woke up surrounded by the peeling walls of the most recent motel room, looking out the window to notice how fall had taken over the small town in rhode island.

you had noticed yesterday that there was a public park down the street, and the weather that had greeted you this morning made you very eager to go and check it out.

the next twenty minutes was spent getting ready for the beautiful autumn day. coming out of the bathroom dawning a cream knit sweater, denim skirt, and mini boots with knee high knitted socks, you were startled as the sight of dean sitting on his bed was not something there when you went into the bathroom.

as soon as the door creaked on its hinges, dean’s eyes immediately snapped up to look at you. the look he was sending your way had you fidgeting where you stood, not liking the way his eyes moved up and down to inspect your outfit.

best option you had at the moment was to turn your back to the man and move to your bed so you could grab your purse with your book in it. the sound of dean’s voice had you startled again, but his words had your heart sinking to your stomach.

“you know, a sign saying ‘i’m a loser, someone date me for pity’ would go amazing with that outfit. since that’s the only way any guy would date you.”

his words hit you like a punch to the gut, but they also lit a rage inside of you that you had never felt before. for once, you wanted dean to know exactly how his words effected you.

spinning around with tears in your eyes, you wound your hand back and landed a loud smack on dean’s cheek. wiping the cocky smirk straight off his face as he just stared at you in complete shock.

not allowing him to even get a breath in, you stuck your pointer finger out and jabbed it directly into his chest. “you’re a fucking dick, you know that dean? how dare you think you have any right to speak to me like that? i have been nothing but nice to you and all i get in return is you being a little bitch. was it something i said? did i steal one of your fucking toys as a kid? because whatever it is probably doesn’t even amount to the shit you’ve put me through.” stepping back, you slung your purse over your shoulder, moving to the door and turning around as your hand reached the door handle. “your tough guy act may work on the girls you fuck and dump like trash, but i’m not falling for it, i never did. so talk to me when you grow a pair and learn to be a fucking man.”

whipping open the door, you noticed sam on the other side, jaw hung open and angry eyes pointed directly at his brother.

you tried to move past him, but he grabbed your arm, turning you around so he could look at the tears streaming down your face. “Y/N-“, “don’t.” the word came out like a bullet, piercing sam’s skin as you yanked your arm away and walked towards the direction of the park.

turning around, sam looked over at his brother. dean had stood up, arms by his side as he gazed at where you had just been. when he noticed sam coming towards him, he tried to explain what had just happened. but sam wasn’t hearing any of it. the second he got close enough to dean, his arm was reeling back and knocking forward to punch his brother in the face.

dean fell back with a grunt, catching himself on the dresser as sam stood in the same spot, anger radiating off of him like tidal waves.

“dude!” dean exclaimed, looking at sam as he steadied himself on the hard wood behind him. “what the fuck?”

“oh don’t even start with that shit.” sam seethed, moving closer so him and dean were chest to chest. “how dare you speak to her like that. what has she ever done to make you so cruel to her?” dean honestly didn’t understand why he treated you so poorly, he had this weighing feeling in his chest every time you were near, and he knew it was nearing close to love, but the thought of that scared him.

pushing people away was always his strongest force. any person who got to close to him either died or got terribly hurt, and dean couldn’t bear for that to happen to you.

rubbing a hand down his face, dean looked over to your bed, seeing the little lamb stuffed animal that you always slept with. “i don’t know, okay! she’s always had this effect on me and it’s terrifying. i don’t want to hurt her, and keeping her at a safe distance worked fine for the first couple of years but now, after seeing her after all this time, i didn’t know how to act.” sam had backed up, staring at his brother with a face so unreadable that dean couldn’t place it.

“those feelings came back, sammy.” dean started. “they came back even bigger than before and the only possible way to push them down was to treat her like shit. but seeing tears well in her eyes make me feel awful, and i don’t know what i can even do now.”

sam was silent for a long time, just staring at his brother with an almost pitiful look. finally, all he could do was sigh, looking at dean as he slightly shook his head. “the only thing you could do is make things right. but don’t be surprised if she slaps you again.”

the bench you had found yourself sitting on was cold on your exposed legs, making you realize how quickly fall was slipping into winter.

you hadn’t picked up your book, your mind to busy playing back the moment in the motel room. your tears had fell the second you turned away from sam, switching to ugly sobs as soon as you found comfort on the bench.

the will of dean’s cruelness had you wondering if there was something wrong with you. all the time you knew him you tired to be nice, but he was just too immature to give it back.

hell, there was even one point when you were fourteen that you had a little crush on him. those feelings had never really gone away, but with all the remarks he’d been making to you recently you could feel the weird fondness for the man slipping into hatred.

the sound of leaves crunching behind you took you away from your thoughts. turning your head slightly, you were taken aback to notice it was dean cautiously approaching the bench, looking at you with eyes that asked if it was okay for him to be here.

there was nothing you could possibly say to him. so you just sat still, letting dean make his way over to you and not making a sound in the process.

when he sat down, neither of you said a word for five minutes, letting the awkward silence take over you both and waiting for the other one to speak. it was dean who broke the silence, sighing to himself as he turned to look at you. “i’m sorry for how i’ve been treating you Y/N, i really am.”

you didn’t reply, keeping your head facing forward as dean continued his apology. “there’s no excuse for the things i’ve said to you, but i just want you to know that when i saw you after all that time i got scared.” his words had you finally turning to face him, giving him the most confused look you ever had. “you were scared? what the hell do you mean you were scared?”

“any person i get to close too, they end up getting hurt.” his words had you shocked, but you continued to let him talk. “and i never want to see you get hurt. so i thought that it would be better if you hated me than letting myself indulge in my feelings and love you.”

was he actually saying this to you? the words coming from dean sounded sincere but you just couldn’t believe it. his reasoning was stupid, you didn’t doubt that. but dean had a hard life. his mother dying when he was young, getting raised as a hunter. he grew up with people leaving him, not knowing what actual love felt like, so there was no surprise that he acted the way he did when he finally got a taste of it.

you weren’t excusing his actions. dean had hurt you terribly and made you feel as though you didn’t mean anything. but you strived in being a forgiving person, and dean was honest enough to apologize and explain himself. so why not just give the poor guy the benefit of the doubt.

softly smiling, you moved your hand so it was resting over dean’s, giving it a small squeeze. “as a kid, i thought that what i felt for you would go away. but it never did. i wished for years that you would say you loved me back, but now i just need time. you have a lot of making up to do dean winchester, this isn’t going to be like some hallmark movie where i instantly forgive you. you have to work for it.” you could practically see the tension rolling off dean’s chest, a look of relief forming on his face as he squeezed your hand back.

“don’t worry sweetheart.” dean enthused, standing up from the bench and reaching his hand out to you. “i would wait forever if it meant that i could finally be with you.” you and dean had a lot of patches to fill up. but for now, the only thing you could do was grab his hand and give him a small kiss on his cheek, symbolizing the start of your efforts on fixing your relationship.

[tarjapearce]

For Science Purposes

Pre! Soccer Family Miguel x Reader

WARNINGS: Smut, oral (M! receiving), mild exhibition kink, established relationships. Fluff.

Summary: Miguel turns into your quality tester of beauty products.

AN: I was cleaning my makeup up supplies and jsksj this came to mind.

Months had waded in between you and Miguel. Dating a man like him was often a rollercoaster of emotions, but in the six months you had decided to actually give it a try and see where things took you, not a single day was wasted with him.

And soon a new milestone approached. The six month mark anniversary.

Knowing the man, he'd have reservations done in a place he refused to tell, no matter how many times you asked, and you were set to find out.

"How am I supposed to know what to wear if you don't tell me where we're going?" You mumbled while sitting on his lap as he worked in his office.

He'd only chuckle and kiss your temple, while tucking you closer to hid chest.

"Whatever you wear, will look good."

"A clue?" You kissed his cheek, trying to melt him down enough to give at least a bit of information, "Anything, please?"

"Formal wear."

Your eyes widened and blinked, "Ooh, fancy it seems. That means I'll have to go shopping."

"Shopping?"

"Yes, I just got paid, and have some budget to splurge. And I'm looking for something super special."

Miguel pursed his lips and nodded while cupping your cheek.

"You'll wear it for me?" A smirk stretched on your lips as you kissed him.

"Obviously." A soft purr rumbled through his chest and his hands squeezed you against his frame.

"Will I be able to take it off?"

Another laugh and kiss from your end. "We'll see."

----

His fingers entwined yours against his while walking with you through the endless halls of the bustling mall. As his other hand carried your shopping bags.

Another busy weekend if anything.

You suddenly stopped at a makeup store, and Miguel had to mentally prepare himself for long stay.

He and makeup had a rocky relationship, specially when he had to ask for your help to remove the lipstick stains from his clothes.

"Oh my goodness! Look! They have it!"

Miguel quirked a brow as you pulled him to a shelf, full of different shades of a lipstick brand.

"I tried get this on pre order but it sold out. Didn't know they'd have it back in stock this soon!"

"A lipstick?" His hands took a sample and his eyes immediately scanned the ingredients.

"It's not just a lipstick! This one actually stays, no matter what and can only be removed with thid special oil." You took another translucent tube with said product.

"No matter what?" His tone skeptical.

"No matter what." You took a little sample from the vendor and applied the gorgeous shade of red on your lips, to them smack them.

Your hands motioned to blow some air towards your mouth to let the creamy and matte shade to dry faster.

"Thought you liked the glittery things?" He kept reading the ingredients, sniffing and watching the products. Brain in working nerd mode.

"They're cute, but not my thing. Too sticky and my hair gets stuck in it. So nope. I rather creamy ones actually."

After correcting the uneven lines with a tissue, you turned to him.

"How does it look?"

"I like it, makes your lips look even more kissable."

"Oh?" You smirked and kissed him, surprised that the formula remained on your lips, leaving zero traces on his skin.

"Shut up! It actually stays!"

"I don't believe it. the ingredients would wear off a couple of hours later."

"It says here, no matter what, mi amor. Besides for it to last more than a couple of hours is enough for me."

"Alright, alright."

"See? It says you can literally eat whatever and it stays!." You pointed at the advertising board above the shelf with excitement.

"It's a contradiction since you need oil to remove it, food has oil, depending what you're having, sure-"

His voice died when realizing the stare you were seizing him with.

"What?" A nervous tingle ran through his spine as you pulled him to a more secluded dressroom area. and closed the door with a lock.

"¿Qué estás haciendo?" (What are you doing?)

"Proving you that it stays." you took the bags off his hand and put them on the door hook. Hand immediately cupped his crotch as the other one pulled him downwards, towards you in a breathtaking kiss.

His tongue collided and twisted against yours, to then nip gently at every inch of your lips, and still the ink remained on your mouth.

Your hands unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, to then slid half your hand past the elastic band of his briefs. This alarmed him greatly and he broke the kiss.

"W-What are you doing!?" he hushed as you kneeled before him and took him gently by the base. A tinge of pink spreaded through his sharp cheeks while you pulled out his hefty cock from his confinements.

"Is for science purposes, I promise." 

"Canija..." He breathed as your tongue flattened against the base and dragged it upwards, filling your taste buds with his delicious taste.

A shaky breath came out of his plump mouth as your hands roamed his hips and firm glutes

"We'll... We'll get in trouble if we get discovered." He heaved through dragged growls.

"Then you better not make a noise."

Your smirk had already put that need within his body on the burner. He was in trouble. Only cause-

Oh~

He gulped and his hands by instinct, reached to your head, caressing your hair and slowly tangling his fingers in it, softly.

" Fuck..." He groaned as your mouth took his broad head and delivered a swirl on the slit of his tip, teasing and tasting.

Miguel had to support on the walls as you eased another inch deeper.

"Ay, Por Dios, mi reina..." His voice husked, completely swirling with the arousal that ran specifically to the tip of his cock.

The suckling sounds coming from your pretty and red lips made his head feel dazed in such need, a hand of his tangled at the base of your nape, fingers caressed softly your scalp as he begun guiding you through, up and down on him.

With every bob of your head, you took him deeper and deeper on your mouth, throat constricted against him and he bared his teeth and breathed laboriously.

"Mi amor" he whimpered when your throat pulsated around him. He didn't know how you did it, or how such thing was possible, but you were sucking all his willpower, all his rational and coherent throughts, all his words from his panting mouth.

Your hands squeezed the firm slabs of his ass and pulled him closer, making your nose nuzzle on his happy trail.

Another gagging sound and his eyes rolled back. He guided your head and you his hips, ebbing him to move.

Your moan rumbled through his skin, rewiring his breathing pattern into short, desperate gasping. His chest heaved and rose.

"God, your mouth is so Hnng- good"

He hiccuped as his thighs trembled, your bobbing had increased and your tongue kept on swirling, having a proper taste of him.

"Soclose-" He slurred and he finally managed to take a hold of your front bangs softly, keeping you still as his hips fucked your mouth in firm but gentle plows.

With half lidded and needy eyes, he watched every single muscle of your face twitching. Your lush lips expertly wrapped around him, made his brain a liquid goo.

A surprised yelp flew his mouth as you returned your merciless attention to his tip while your hand pumped his base.

You weren't only giving him one of the best blow jobs he's ever gotten, but going to these extents as to prove your point, made him wonder if he should question everything you said, if that meant to have you like this.

He didn't know what made him harder, you sucking the life and processing skills out of him in a dressing room, in a shop full of people, or you sucking his cock to prove the product's endurance, like a scrumptious lab test he was more than willing to participate again and the many times you saw fit.

Taking and devouring him like only you knew how. The red on your lips was a sinful sight, but oh so worth it. Specially when your nose rubbed against his skin and your throat got him in a vice like grip. Your eyes twinkling and watching him melt didn't help in the slightest.

His mouth continued giving your ears delicious and languid moans after chanting your name, pronouncing it in such a delicious way it only made your swollen nub between drenched folds to throb and move your head viciously. Obliterating his train of thoughts in a go.

"Fuck- Dios... P-Princesa... I'm-" he whimpered and his legs trembled again, "I'm coming-" he whimpered, "I'm coming!"

His mouth opened to exhale, instead, his teeth clenched as his cum spurted warmly down your throat. A gutural and shaky moan echoed in the dressing room. Pleasure drowned him in tidal waves, impossible to keep him afloat and standing any longer.

He slumped like a melted goo against the dressing room's seat. Panting like he had performed a ten miles marathon. Wheezing his pleasure out in every paused exhale.

Your tongue relished under the constant pulsations and his taste. Drinking and slurping the last of his drops to quench your thirst.

His cock twitched, like he did. Beautiful sunset red eyes remained in the back of his lids, trying to process the overwhelming pleasure, set to make him feel and experience the complete bliss.

You released him with a gentle pop, as much as you wanted to have him a begging mess for more, your main focus returned with a surprised gasp.

"I told you it'd stay no matter what" You spoke in between giggles, and he chuckled tiredly and gathered the strength to look down at his glistening cock.

His eyes blinked with surprise

"Huh..." There was not a single smear of red on the base, or anywhere really.

"Let's go"

With a deep breath, he stood and wobbled, his cock was tucked back into place and he helped you stand.

"What? No! we gotta pay for the lipstick!"

"I know. Let's go pick some more."

You watched him and he smooched your lips, loving his taste on your mouth.

"More?" you smirked and bit his lip. "You'll have to buy them then, mi amor."

"I'll get you a dozen. C'mon."

With a squeal, you were dragged out of the secluded and private space. Straight to the shelf of wonderful lipsticks, waiting for their future quality test.

[felixbit]

i like it

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader w. 2k genre: drama, a mix of fluff + angst summary: you've been in a situationship with hyunjin for almost six months. while he's taking you out, you decide it's time to make or break what you have with the goal of becoming official. warnings: none a/n: i was in a writer's block for like two months, but the album seems to have broken it?? stream ate for good luck (and there will likely not be a part 2 to this)

Six months of back and forth has been driving you crazy.

You'd met a guy that changed your life. He was everything you'd ever wanted: gorgeous, talented, somewhat wealthy, and a kind soul. He was passionate, driven, and everything else that made you want to be his. This was Hyunjin.

The only problem was: Hyunjin struggled with commitment.

He'd take you out on fancy dinners, dates, drop a grand on a shopping trip, but couldn't bring himself to make it official. He sent you flowers, good morning texts, random food orders to your place whenever you mentioned you were hungry over text. But it was 'casual'.

You decided to play his game, give him time to open up. You'd learned that he'd been in a long-term yet rocky relationship that had only ended three months before you met. Of course you wanted to give him time to heal. You wanted him to come to you when he was ready.

He never did. He'd spend all day in your apartment, taking a day off work just to see you. He'd hold you and kiss you until the sun fell and rose again. You would wake up to breakfast in bed served with a side of kisses and little love notes. But, he was instantly avoidant when it came to you asking if he was ready.

So, you were in a weird relationship purgatory. He'd give you everything but a title in his life, and that's all you ever needed with him. The internet seemed to deem it a 'situationship', but it was another label that Hyunjin would likely avoid.

The thought was eating you up inside. Three weeks ago, you drafted up an ultimatum confrontation text to send him. It turned to collecting dust whenever you pasted it into messages and immediately deleted it. Hyunjin was amazing, even with his faults. Could you stand to lose him over wanting to be his?

You sat on the couch that Hyunjin had bought you two months ago, plagued with thoughts about him all morning. He'd been busy almost the entire week, which would throw a wrench into any potential plans. His work was demanding at times and you knew how committed he was to it.

When you finished making breakfast, you ate it while listening to a playlist Hyunjin had sent. He had a good ear for music, especially picking out songs you'd like. He'd started a habit of making you a playlist at the start of every month and you'd listen religiously.

Just as you were finishing up, your phone vibrate and fished it from your pocket. Looking down at the screen, your heart skipped a beat and a smile immediately rushed onto your face.

hyunjin: good morning!!

This was everyday routine. If you didn't wake up to a classic 'good morning' text, you'd get one before the clock ticked over to PM. Sometimes he'd admit he forgot to right when he woke up, but he was pretty good at staying consistent on his timing.

y/n: good morning hyunjinnie :)

That damn nickname. You'd called him a plethora of nicknames since you first started seeing each other, and it was making it infinitely harder to find it casual. The worst part was that he liked them. He encouraged you to use more.

hyunjin: sleep well? y/n: i did, just ate some breakfast hyunjin: yum! y/n: how's your morning been so far hyunjin: perfect now that i'm talking to you

Seeing that text made your heart tug and caused a small outburst on a nearby pillow. It didn't deserve to be hit so many times, but you couldn't contain the cuteness aggression. Also, a little bit of frustration.

y/n: stop itttt!!! making me blush hyunjin: that's my charm y/n: your charm is looking like a cute ferret hyunjin: oh yeah?

Just as you sent the message, you scrolled through your phone for a few photos you had saved of ferrets the night before. Selecting a few and pressing send, the two of you delved into a discussion on his ferret-like looks.

Turns out, he could carry a conversation talking about what animals you both looked like the most for longer than expected. By the time you realized how long you'd been at it, it had almost been half an hour.

y/n: wait. aren't you supposed to be at work by now?? not texting me about ferrets hyunjin: oh yeah, about that hyunjin: i took today off, was thinking we could spend some time together and go out

This was strange, to say the least. Hyunjin was normally quite engrossed in making sure his work was finished. A few months back, you had to convince him to call out of work when he had a high fever and could hardly stand up from his bed.

y/n: what's gotten into you so suddenly hyunjin: what do you mean? y/n: you? hwang hyunjin? calling out of work for me? hyunjin: well of course, why wouldn't i y/n: idk

It took a few tries of writing out variants of 'you're not my boyfriend' before settling on the text you sent. Such official behaviors by a man so scared of labels drove you mad. It was almost perfect, almost.

hyunjin: talk to me y/n: later, okay? hyunjin: how about when i take you out then? y/n: sure

Being so bland over text made a pain swell up in your chest. You wanted to be open and honest with him, but pushing him past his limits had grown to be a massive fear in your mind. The harder part would be figuring out what to say.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to tell him. You'd found Hyunjin to be one of the most understanding people to walk to earth. The last time you'd pushed at all for labels was almost three months ago and you'd given up since.

What was there to say, anyways? 'I want you to be my boyfriend or I'll explode'? It was certainly accurate to how your mind had made it seem. The idea of being exclusive with Hyunjin was exhilarating but terrifying.

hyunjin: can i come get you in an hour? y/n: yes

You turned your phone off and set it face-down, sighing and looking at the ceiling. The uncertainty was building, but you had made a decision: it was time to ask. You couldn't keep dancing around the issue. You had serious feelings for him.

So, you kept checking the time as it grew closer and closer to when Hyunjin would come get you. With thirty minutes left, you were already dressed and finishing getting ready. Your heart raced at the thought of him.

The minutes dragged on, but the time finally came. Feeling a ringing buzz in your pocket, you saw his name and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" His voice came from the other end of the line.

You slightly smiled at the sound of him, but responded. "Hey. Are you outside?"

"Yeah, you can come down now, if you're ready."

"Alright, I'll see you in a minute."

Hanging up the call, you composed yourself to the best of your ability and headed down towards him. The wait as you took the elevator was tense, but the second you stepped out of the building and saw him everything else fell away.

Every time you saw him, it was like the first time all over again. His long, black hair and defined features had your heart in a twist. You approached him with a smile on your face, and one matching on his own. He pulled you into a tight hug, smelling his perfume.

"Hey," He said, his voice muffled into your shirt, "How's your day been?"

You pulled away and smiled at him, taking his hand in your own, "I've been okay, missing you like I always do."

Hyunjin chuckled, reaching his free hand up and stroking your cheek softly. "I've missed you, too. That's really why I called out today."

"You missed me that much?"

"Of course."

Before you could bring anything else up, he was calling you over to his car. He had a cafe he planned on showing you, telling you a bit about it as he began to drive towards it. The whole way, you caught him sneaking glances over at you from the driver's seat.

When he pulled into the parking lot outside of the cafe, he opened your door for you and walked you inside, his fingers laced with yours. He read over the menu with you, pointing out a few things that sounded good to him and a few he thought you'd like.

You picked out an order and he was quick to get to the register, paying for both of you without a second thought. You found a table as he waited and brought you drinks, sitting down right opposite you.

"So," He said with a sigh as he took a sip of his drink, "I was worried about you this morning."

"Worried?" You looked at him slightly puzzled, "What would you have to be worried about?"

"You were just.. distant. I could tell when you suddenly texted differently, and I was scared I said something to upset you."

"Oh." You looked up from your drink at him, seeing the way his eyes gazed back fondly into yours. This was the opportunity, if there ever was any.

You took another long drink and took a breath to stabilize. "Hyunjin, I've been thinking about us. I guess I first have to ask you, what are we?"

Hyunjin frowned slightly and you watched his hands fidget on top of the table. "That's.. not an easy question to answer. You're an amazing person I like to be around all the time. That's all I know."

You felt your heartstrings pull. "Hyunjin, I want more than that. I'm done with just being someone you hang out with and buy all sorts of things. I really like being around you, and I really like you. But I can't keep pretending we're dating in my head when we aren't."

Hyunjin looked at you silently, his expression utterly unreadable. His eyes were slightly widened, and you could only see his uncertainty.

You continued, "I can't do this constant push-and-pull, Jinnie. I want to be yours, and if I can't be that then I need to move on and save my own feelings. I'm sorry."

With that, you set your own hands on the table across from his, looking at him. He sat for almost thirty seconds without speaking, looking down at the table and then back up at you.

"I.. don't really know what to say."

You held your breath, but he continued on after a second of silence. "I've been unfair to you, I know. With my last relationship, I had so many doubts and fears.. I was just so comfortable in having us. I didn't want to worry about labels.

"I never realized that's not really what you wanted. It's not your fault that I didn't. So, don't say sorry. I'm sorry. I can't lie and say it's not a bit scary to say, but I like you too. A lot. So much it made me stupid. So I'll be yours. If you'll have me."

You couldn't contain the smile that spread out onto your face, and his followed. He reached across the table and took your hand in his, and you couldn't help but feel like crying. "Hyunjin.."

"Please be mine. I swear, I'll be a better boyfriend than I was a weird situationship."

You nodded vigorously. "Of course I'll have you," You said through a choked-up laugh, "Do you know how many times I almost introduced you to my friends as my boyfriend?"

He grinned and shrugged. "Well, now you can! I just.. I wanted to take it slow, but I guess I didn't stop to ask you how you were feeling after we first decided that."

You stood up from the table and he did as well, pulling you into a tight hug. "Thank you for putting up with me," Hyunjin's voice shook slightly, "And letting me be your boyfriend."

You pulled away from the hug and nodded. "Thank you for understanding when I said something. And, you know, being my boyfriend."

Hyunjin snickered softly and pulled you into a kiss. Maybe it wasn't so bad, after all.

[mariposa-writes]

The Rumor Mill

Pairing: Travis Kelce x Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Overview: The truth hurts more than the rumors.

CW: infidelity, betrayal, emotional distress, and relationship complications.

As the rumors continued to spread, you couldn't help but feel a jumbled mix of frustration and hurt. Every other day seemed to bring about a new headline or TikTok video speculating on Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift's supposed relationship. You knew that it shouldn't matter. After all, you and Travis were nothing more than friends with benefits. Despite all this, it didn't make the rumors sting any less.

You wouldn't have agreed to being fuck buddies if you'd known what laid ahead. In the beginning, it sounded like a great idea; both of your jobs were too time consuming for any kind of committed relationship. Yet after some time, you started to develop feelings for the six-foot-five tight end, and you couldn't help the ball of anxiety that continued to grow in your stomach, knowing that you'd be the one walking away with a broken heart.

It was Travis's fault, really, for being so infuriatingly perfect. He went above and beyond to make sure you felt cherished, both inside and outside the bedroom. From ordering takeout on your busiest nights to ensuring that your pleasure surpassed his in every encounter, he always left you feeling valued.

He texted you this evening, asking what you were up to. You knew this was his way of inviting himself over for sex. Typically, you'd be all for it, but with all the rumors going around, you decided against it. Sorry, not feeling too good. Started my period. That was the response you gave him. It wasn't completely false - your period had indeed started and you weren't exactly feeling your best either. However, Travis usually didn't mind when you were on your period and the amazing orgasms he gifted tended to ease away any cramps.

You didn't bother waiting for his reply, instead tossing your phone on the white fluffy rug and heading for your kitchen. All you wanted to do was curl up on your couch with a tub of ice cream and watch reruns of love island, to make yourself feel a little better about your life.

You grabbed the rocky road from the fridge, doing just that as you snuggled into your comfy couch. You only made it through one and a half episodes, before your door bell was ringing. You groaned, throwing the blanket off of you and heading for the front door.

It was probably your stupid neighbor lady, wanting to complain about how you didn't hid your trashcans well enough. You yanked open the door, ready to go off on the poor soul standing on the other size, but to your surprise Travis was there with flowers and a grocery bag in his hand, a Walgreens bag specifically.

"Brought you some things to help you feel better," he announced, his tone gentle and caring, making your stomach flutter. Without a word, you stepped aside, inviting him into your space.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he placed the bag and flowers on your spotless kitchen counter. The vibrant bouquet added a touch of color to the room, and you couldn't help but appreciate the gesture even though a knot of mixed emotions still clung to your heart.

"Thanks but you didn't have to do that," you said, your voice laced with genuine gratitude and a hint of reluctance. You wanted to convey your appreciation, but the complicated nature of your relationship with Travis made accepting such kindness a double-edged sword.

A scoff escaped your lips, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes as you turned away from him. If you truly held a place of significance in his life, why did he talk so casually about his potential involvement with Taylor Swift on his podcast? That single conversation had been the catalyst for all the rumors, and deep down, you couldn't completely dismiss the possibility that they might be true. After all, the two of you rarely shared the intricate details of your day-to-day lives.

His brows furrowed, his concern evident in his furrowed brow. "What was that about?"

"Nothing," you mumbled, refusing to meet his gaze.

He persisted, a determined note creeping into his voice. "It was clearly something."

You hesitated, the words lingering on the tip of your tongue. The turmoil of emotions within you was too tangled to unravel in this moment, but Travis deserved to know your thoughts, even if they were filled with uncertainty.

Sighing, you finally spoke, your voice tinged with vulnerability. "It doesn't matter right now."

He rounded the kitchen island, his steps purposeful as he positioned himself squarely in front of you. In a decisive move, he gently but firmly grasped your wrists, his touch demanding your full attention. "You can tell me if something's wrong," he persisted, his eyes locked onto yours, his determination unwavering.

You drew in a deep breath, your mind racing with the weight of the question that had been gnawing at you. Maybe it was best to confront it head-on, to rip off the bandage, even if it meant facing an uncomfortable truth.

"Are the rumors about you and Taylor Swift true?" The words slipped from your lips, laced with a mixture of anxiety and longing. You held your gaze steady, searching for any hint of honesty in his eyes. "Are you two talking, or dating, or anything like that?" The silence that followed your question stretched, urging you to speak again.

He sighed, releasing your wrists and rubbing his chin, his actions speaking louder than words. The lack of an immediate response told you more than you needed to know, and a wellspring of emotions surged within you.

"Seriously?" you questioned, taking a step back from him, anger seeping into your voice. "I thought you had enough respect to at least end things with me before pursuing an international superstar." You were furious, and the betrayal you felt was palpable.

When you and Travis had embarked on this arrangement, you had agreed on one fundamental rule – exclusivity. Despite the lack of a formal commitment, there was an unspoken understanding that you wouldn't be sleeping with other people, even if your connection wasn't officially labeled as a relationship.

He knew about your past, about your parents and your father's infidelity that had marred your childhood. He knew that infidelity was the one thing you despised above all else. He knew it was the reason you had been hesitant to pursue conventional relationships or believe in the concept of love.

You took a deep, steadying breath, your efforts aimed at quelling the storm of emotions inside you. "You need to go," you said, your voice firm and resolute. When he remained rooted in place, you added with an urgency, "Now."

"I'm sorry," he whispered softly, his voice laced with remorse as he retrieved his keys from the kitchen island, his footsteps carrying him toward the front door.

Your silence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken disappointment, as you waited for the telltale sound of the door closing behind him. When it finally did, it was as if a dam had burst within you, and the tears flowed freely. Each tear felt like a piece of your heart breaking, and the pain was almost unbearable. You had believed Travis to be a good guy, someone different from the men you had known before. Yet, in this moment, it seemed he had let you down, just like so many others had in the past.

[7s3ven]

NOBODY’S SON, NOBODY’S DAUGHTER. luke (pjo) pt 3

PART 1 > PART 2 > PART 3 > PART 4 (last pt)

( masterlist )

IN WHICH… being the boyfriend of Zeus’ daughter is easy for Luke but their relationship is tested when a new arrival has his eyes set on someone in particular; Y/N.

“You’re in the wind, I’m in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.”

Warnings : Luke ain’t gonna betray anyone this time, don’t worry, not following plot, communication problems, relationship problems, Y/N and Luke are little rocky together, a little bit of angst

—

TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbaby @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree

—

Life was good for Luke. He was still the most respected swordsman at camp, the Hermes cabin was as energetic as ever, and he had been dating his longtime crush for months now. Everything was perfect.

“Hey Sparky.” Luke said as he walked into Y/N’s cabin without a second thought. She was still lying in bed, glaring at him with her E/C eyes that he loved so much.

“It’s six in the morning. Get out or be quiet.” Y/N waved him off but he was persistent.

“You promised to train with me.” Luke frowned, hurrying over to kneel beside Y/N’s bed.

“Tomorrow.” She muttered, closing her eyes so she could sneak in a moment more of sleep.

“You said that yesterday. And the day before. At least hold my water bottle!”

Y/N couldn’t resist Luke when he looked at her with those puppy eyes. Eventually, she found herself standing in the centre of the arena dressed in loosely fitting armour and holding a heavy sword. “I never agreed to this.” She muttered, furrowing her eyebrows.

She wasn’t even fully dressed, still in her pjs under the armour, while Luke was ready to go. He took a huge gulp of cold water from his bottle, grinning.

“Just one round, Sparky. Fight me like you mean it and I’ll let you sit out.”

But fighting Luke was never an easy feat. Five minutes later, Y/N was still locked in a complicated battle with her brown-haired sweetheart.

“Slow down, will you? I just woke up.” She muttered, sloppily blocking a blow that was aimed at her chest. Luke merely chuckled, swinging his weapon even faster.

“Sorry, Sparky. But I’ve got to train somehow.”

“By almost maiming your girlfriend?!” Y/N exclaimed as she ducked. She quickly rolled across the ground and stood up behind Luke.

“Yeah. Something like that.” He sent her a mischievous wink as he spun around, metal clashing against metal. Y/N scoffed, kicking his ankles. She liked to play dirty. In one of their first capture the flag matches, Y/N had bit Luke. And had drawn blood. That was the start to their close relationship.

“I’m tired, Luke.” She complained, slouching. “Let me rest.” Despite wanting to continue training, Luke let Y/N off easy. He knew he wouldn’t get another mock fight out of her in this state. She happily skipped over to the bench, lying down on it.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Luke’s lips as he stared at Y/N. Her head suddenly turned and Luke bashfully looked away. Nothing could make him shy… nothing but Y/N. She laughed at him, knowing the effect she had on Luke.

“I’m going to change. And maybe get some last-minute sleep. You wanna come or are you gonna stay here and train?” Y/N raised her eyebrows as she took her armor off. Luke was quick to drop his sword and unbuckle his chest-plate.

“I’ll come with.” He said. Y/N muffled her laughter and simply knocked Luke to the side with her hip.

“New kids sure are pouring in.” Y/N mumbled. Just yesterday, another boy had arrived. He was around Y/N and Luke’s age, which was uncommon for newcomers. How had he managed to avoid the monsters for so long?

“Remember when that girl tried flirting with me last week?” Luke asked, chuckling to himself. Y/N quietly snickered as she nodded her head.

Just last week, a new girl had began flirting with Luke. People tried to warn her but she didn’t listen. Y/N hadn’t even stepped out of her cabin before Clarisse pinned the newbie to the cold ground and forced her to stay away from Luke.

“Clarisse sure is working hard to prevent anybody interested from approaching us.” Y/N found it amusing because Clarisse never cared about couples until Y/N and Luke started dating.

“So. You up for training again tomorrow?” Luke questioned, changing the topic. Y/N playfully scoffed.

“Luke, you know your my second favourite boy… but no.” Y/N didn’t know how many more late nights and early mornings she could take.

“Second? Who’s first?” Luke sped up slightly, furrowing his eyebrows at Y/N.

“Percy.” She shrugged, “Sorry, Luke, but he’s a better breakfast buddy. And he doesn’t wake me up at the crack of dawn.”

Luke lightly pouted. He knew Y/N was joking but there was no way Percy was ranked above him. “I won’t wake you up early anymore.” He uttered, making Y/N pause.

“I guess I’ll have to change my list then. Percy’s been demoted to number two.”

Immediately, Luke’s eyes lit up. If he were a dog, his tail would’ve been wagging back and forth. Luke opened the cabin door, letting Y/N walk in first before he followed.

“We still have an hour before breakfast so Luke, don’t disturb me. Do whatever you want as long as it doesn’t wake me up.” Y/N sternly pointed at him and he mockingly saluted.

“Yes, ma’am.”

While Y/N lay down, Luke resorted to looking around the cabin. There wasn’t anything of significant interest apart from the closet shoved into a deserted corner, which Luke ignored. The last time he opened a mysterious closet, he was dragged into it. Of course, it was a prank meant for an Athena kid but they were too smart to fall for it. Especially when said closet was placed in the middle of a flower field.

Luke looked at Y/N, who was already sound asleep. He smiled, creeping over to the side of the bed. He found peaceful solitude in tracing his eyes over Y/N’s soft features. He would’ve stared at her for hours if she didn’t groggily wake up five minutes later.

“You’re distracting.” She groaned, glaring at Luke.

“I’m not even doing anything this time, Sparky!” Of course, as Y/N’s boyfriend plus friend, it was his job to annoy her. “How am I distracting?”

“Your staring is distracting. Come over here.” Y/N motioned to the spot beside her on the unusually large bed. Luke gleefully climbed in, immediately hugging Y/N. He was as affectionate as ever, even more so now that they were officially together.

Y/N hummed as Luke tilted her chin up, lightly kissing her. “Luke.” She mumbled against his lips, “I wanna sleep.”

“Five more minutes.” He uttered those famous words.

“Sleep now, act like a couple later.” Y/N pulled away, lying down on Luke’s chest. She closed her eyes, sighing deeply.

“Can I come with you when you teach the newbies to sword fight? I’m in the mood for watching you pummel them.”

Luke chuckled, hugging Y/N even tighter. “Sure, Sparky. I’ll try not to embarrass myself too much.”

Y/N sat on the bench, beaming at Luke. His eyes remained glued to her despite one of the younger kids tripping over their own feet.

“Hey, you’re Y/N, right?”

She almost jumped when someone sat beside her. Suddenly, Luke’s face shifted. Y/N turned her head, glancing at the boy beside her.

“Oh. Yeah. Um, you’re one of the new kids, right?” Y/N questioned, tilting her head to the side.

“Yeah. I just got here yesterday. I’m honestly still a little confused so it’d be great if you could show me around.” He smiled, showing off his pearly white teeth.

“I guess I could try? I’m a little busy because of my duties as head counsellor. By default, of course. Because I’m the only one in my cabin.”

“Oh, who’s your godly parent?”

Y/N hesitated for a second before she cleared her throat. “… Zeus.” She wasn’t proud of having him as her father. He was unbearable, especially when he ignored her for so long then proceeded to act as if he hadn’t.

“That’s cool. Can you control lightning or something?”

“Perhaps. Percy has some water powers so maybe it applies to me too.” Y/N shrugged. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Luke excuse himself from the campers across the arena.

Y/N watched him with bated breath as he approached her. “Hey. Is there something wrong with your armour?” He asked the boy beside Y/N. “Because we’re going to start mock fights soon. Clarisse will be monitoring.” Luke jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.

“Ah, no. Everything’s good. Don’t worry. My armor’s fine.” The unnamed boy stood up, walking over to the rest of the group.

“What was that for?” Y/N softly asked, “He was only asking for some help.”

“He was flirting, Y/N.” Luke cooly replied, sitting down next to her. “I know guys like that. Their way of flirting is asking for help.”

“You don’t know that, Luke.”

“Yes. I do, Y/N.”

“The overprotective nature was cute at first, Luke. But you can’t assume every guy who talks to me is interested in me.”

“I see the way they look at you. I mean, how could they not? You’re beautiful and kind and great at fighting and on top of that, you’re Zeus daughter.”

“I chose you, Luke. Not any of the other guys desperate for my attention. You think I’m not jealous when I see girls giggling at you? Of course I am. But I know that you’re mine. And you have to know that my heart only belongs to you.”

Luke cracked a small grin. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m sorry, Y/N. I just got jealous.”

“It’s okay, Luke. I’m sorry I called your overprotectiveness annoying. It’s not. I still think it’s cute. I was just caught up in the moment. I guess I just didn’t want to feel helpless. A daughter of Zeus should not be helpless.”

“You aren’t helpless. Whoever thinks that you are needs a major reality check.” Luke shook his head, glancing over at Clarisse. “You wanna get out of here?” He whispered, nudging Y/N.

“I, um, actually agreed to show him around.” Y/N mumbled, pointing over at the boy. Luke pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Okay.” He gently said, nodding his head. “I’ll keep Annabeth company while you show him around. But if he tries anything funny, I will punch him.” Luke warned.

“I know, Luke. I know.” She smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. She was partly hoping that the boy from before saw their interaction so he would put whatever sneaky schemes he had to rest.

“So, let me get this straight, Annabeth found out Percy was Poseidon’s child when Clarisse cornered him in a bathroom… and shoved his head into a toilet?” Y/N raised an eyebrow as she picked another strawberry, placing it in the straw basket Luke was holding.

“Yeah. And then Percy practically attacked her with toilet water.” Luke chuckled to himself as he bit into a strawberry. “Annabeth told me all about it. It was hilarious.”

“Sounds like Percy.” Y/N replied, plucking a few more berries. She handed one to Luke, who took it like a child being given candy.

“So, how was showing that boy around?”

“Well, I thought his name was Alston and it took about two hours for me to realise that his name was actually Allen. He never corrected me so I never knew.”

Luke huffed in amusement as he slung his arm around Y/N’s shoulder. “Sounds like you. Any idea of what cabin he’d gonna be in?”

“Ares.” Y/N immediately answered, taking Luke by surprise. “He’s hungry for power. He has a thirst for it. And he can’t seem to tear his eyes off the Ares kids, it’s like he’s drawn to them. What about you?”

“Good guess. Ares as well for me.”

“Are you sure you aren’t just copying me?”

Their playful banter went on for quite some time. It was normal for the couple to tease and push. That’s how they were before they started dating too.

“Have you ever tried chocolate on strawberries?” Luke asked, picking up another red berry.

“I’m not obsessed with them like you are, Luke.” Y/N was never much of a sugar person. She liked desserts for a certain extent and chocolate wasn’t her favourite like Luke’s was.

“How come I have a cute nickname for you and you don’t have one for me?” Luke questioned, gazing down at Y/N.

“I’m not big on pet names. And I could hardly call Sparky cute. Unless you want to be called messenger boy, don’t push it.”

“I’ll message you my heart.” Luke grinned as he pulled out a slip of paper that was stamped with a red heart.

“What’s this?” Y/N turned it over but Luke stopped her from opening it.

“Read it when I’m gone otherwise I’ll be too embarrassed. It’s just a little gift for my amazing girlfriend.” Luke quickly kissed her before he hurried off, taking the strawberries with him.

Y/N sat down in a sunny patch and opened the letter, staring at Luke’s neat handwriting. “A love letter…” She whispered, her eyes widening. She has received plenty of love letters before, mostly before she came to Camp, but Luke’s felt special. He was pouring his heart out to her through his inked words and messily drawn hearts.

“Hey Y/N. What ya reading?”

She held back a small scoff as Allen approached her, hands clasped behind her back.

“Something private.” She said, hoping he would get the hint. But he didn’t.

“Is it a love letter? Who still writes those, these days?” Allen plucked the letter from Y/N’s grasp and before she could stop him, he dunked it in a nearby puddle. “Oops.” He merely smirked.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N seethed, watching as the ink bled out from off the paper and Luke’s beloved words floated away.

“You’ll get another love letter. No need to be so uptight.” Allen laughed, not noticing how Y/N’s vision flashed red with anger. She was never one to get furious but Luke’s gifts meant the world to her.

“Are you crazy? Stupid? Perhaps mentally impaired? Why would you do that? Even if the letter didn’t mean much to me, you have no right to grab it and ruin it!” Y/N stood up, wobbling from side to side. Her body felt unusually heavy.

“It was just a joke, Y/N.” Allen reached out to touch her. He grasped her wrist but was suddenly flung back by an unknown force. As he lifted his hand, he yelped. It had been burnt, and badly. His skin was sizzling and some parts were even charred black.

“Don’t touch me again.” Y/N muttered, storming off. Allen clicked his tongue, watching her leave.

“Crazy bitch.” He muttered under his breath. He went to the infirmary and got his hand patched up before returning to the Hermes cabin.

“Yo, what happened to your hand?” Chris asked almost immediately. Luke’s eyes flickered over to the bandage that was wrapped around Allen’s hand.

“Y/N. The crazy girl went ballistic after her little love letter fell in water. I grabbed her and then she flung me back. I didn’t even know she could do that.” Allen scoffed.

Luke didn’t wait around to hear the rest. He was out of the cabin before Allen could say another word. He burst into Y/N’s room, making an instant beeline for her figure hiding beneath the blankets.

“Go away, Clarisse. I told you, I don’t want to talk.” Y/N said, shifting around.

“It’s not Clarisse, Sparky. What happened? Why’d you burn Allen?”

Y/N slowly slid the covers off her head. “I didn’t mean to. I was so angry that I didn’t know what was happening. He dunked your letter in water, Luke! So I snapped at him and he tried to stop me from leaving by grabbing me. And I don’t know how it happened, but I burnt him and sent him crashing into the strawberry bushes.

“Oh… are the strawberries okay?” Luke furrowed his eyebrows together, concerned.

“Luke,” Y/N glowered at him, “This is about me! Not the strawberries!” She hit his chest. “It’s not like it’s my fault he touched me. He deserved it anyway.”

“I know, Sparky. I know. I’ll take care of him. You just focus on calming down. It’s not your fault. I’ll write you a million letters if you need.” Luke hugged her, pressing a long kiss to the side of her head. She laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Thanks, Luke.” She mumbled, pressing her face deeper into his shirt.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Y/N froze. She stiffly rested in Luke’s embrace, staring blankly at his bright orange shirt. An awkward silence rested between the pair and even though Luke didn’t comment on her lack of response, he still wondered why didn’t she reply?

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair how we’re always fighting against the Hermes and Athena cabin?” Clarisse said as she sharpened her sword. She clicked her tongue.

“It is a little unfair. Annabeth is always one step ahead of us.” Y/N sighed. She clenched her jaw when she spotted Allen walking towards her. “Oh, great. Jerk alert.” She whispered to Clarisse, rolling her eyes.

“I’ll leave you to beat him up.” The Ares girl replied, shoving her way past Allen.

“Y/N. Hey. I just wanna say that I’m sorry. I didn’t know the letter meant that much to you.”

She stared at him, unimpressed. “Okay.” She murmured.

“Okay? That’s it? I apologised to you and all you say is okay?” Allen scoffed.

“Just because you apologised doesn’t mean I forgive you.” Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes in fear they would get stuck. She spent so much time being annoyed with people.

“Do you have to be such a bitch about it?” Allen snapped.

Y/N deeply inhaled. She stiffly smiled at Allen before standing up. “I have to go.” She uttered, brushing past the boy. But just like last time, he grabbed her hand and unfortunately for her, there was no electricity to save her.

“Accept my apology.” He said, gripping her arm so tight he may as well leave a bruise.

“I told you not to touch me.” Y/N tried to pull her arm out of his grasp but he was relentless.

“Leave me alone, okay!” She exclaimed, lifting her other hand and slapping Allen’s check. “Stay away from me, you creep! Honestly!”

Y/N scoffed in disgust, storming off. She went to go find Luke, but she found him on the porch of the Aphrodite cabin, talking to the same girl that tested their relationship before it even started.

Y/N slowly licked her lips and looked away, fidgeting with her hands. She decided to leave Luke alone for now, ignoring the dull ache she felt in her chest.

After months of pure happiness, everything was coming crashing down. And there was nothing Y/N could do to stop it. She sighed, collapsing on her own wooden porch. A new game of capture the flag was going to start soon and she didn’t have time to brood.

“Hey, you good?” Clarisse asked as Y/N slid her helmet over her head and the first conch blew. Y/N simply smiled, nodding over at her best friend.

“Yeah. I’m good. Don’t worry about it, Clari.” She smiled again to reassure Clarisse. She glanced over at Luke and the Aphrodite girl, whose name was Lana. They were laughing together. They had been for the past few days. Y/N didn’t know if it was her or Luke but lately, they hadn’t been talking at all.

Clarisse followed her gaze and pieced everything together. “You can switch positions with someone else.” She offered because they both knew Luke was going to be the one to get the flag. “Today feels like an offence day for you anyway.”

Y/N silently smiled at Clarisse as she switched jobs with one of the Ares kids.

“Thanks, Clari.”

“No problem, baby. If it weren’t for Luke, I might’ve dated you myself.” Clarisse playfully smirked while Y/N laughed.

“If it weren’t for him, I might’ve taken you up on that offer.”

Communication was important in a relationship but for some reason, Y/N and Luke could never talk peacefully. It always turned into argument and one, if not both of them, would turn away hurt.

Y/N was ready to go by the time the second conch blew. Usually, she guarded her team’s flag but today, she was hunting through the woods. Each of her opponents were more surprised than the last to see her because it was always Luke’s job to duel against her. He was really the only one who could beat her.

“We surrender.” The blue leader said, hands help up. Y/N smiled, slinging her spear over her shoulder.

“Easy peasy.” She said to her teammates, who laughed with her. “This might be the quickest game yet. Let’s grab that flag and get outta here.”

Y/N didn’t know who she was expecting to be guarding the blue flag. Maybe Percy or Chris or even Annabeth herself. But not Luke.

He easily disarmed her teammates, leaving Y/N for last. “Rematch, Sparky?” He uttered, mockingly swinging his sword.

“Really? We don’t talk for a few days and that’s all you say?” Y/N replied as she blocked the blow.

“Well, last I recall, you’re always busy with Allen.”

“Not willingly. You know that.”

“What was he doing in the arena with you then?”

Y/N scoffed. “Annoying me. What are you and Lana always talking about?”

“Don’t turn this on me, Sparky.” Luke warned as he stepped to the side, barely avoiding Y/N’s weapon.

“We really need to figure our shit out, Luke. Maybe somewhere that’s not on a battlefield.”

Y/N and Luke were both headstrong and stubborn, which is what made communication so hard in the first place.

“Lana’s only a friend, Y/N. Barely that. I’m only helping her. What do you call Allen?”

“An obnoxious fly.” Y/N whacked Luke in the head, taking him by surprise.

“You seem closer than that. He’s always touching you.”

“And every time he does, I wish I could burn him. Are you sure you aren’t jealous?”

“Are you sure you aren’t? Your eyes are always on Lana.”

“Because she likes you, Luke. And she hasn’t gotten the hint that you’re taken.”

Y/N’s teammates exchanged looks and quietly crawled away from the now private conversation.

“Why don’t you trust me, Y/N? You know I’d never cheat on you.” Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he wiped away beads of sweat with the back of his hand.

“You have to trust me first. Why would I choose Allen over you? That seems like an unfair deal.”

“Maybe you just like the attention. I mean, you didn’t even say you love me back.” Luke shrugged, stepped back to avoid his leg from being slashed by Y/N’s blade.

“I’m not ready for that, Luke! You know what,” Y/N paused gripping her spear tightly. “I’m sick of this. I’m sick of arguing and not trusting each other. A relationship requires trust and despite being friends before all this, we’re doing a lousy job of it. So…”

Y/N pursed her lips as she trailed off. “So, maybe we’re just trying to make something impossible work.”

Luke suddenly froze, realising the small argument was going somewhere he didn’t want it to. “You don’t mean that, Y/N.”

“… I do. Luke, we’ve been avoiding each other and over what? Stupid things. You’re blaming me for talking to guys and I’m getting mad at you for even looking at other girls. Luke, we’re not in a stable relationship. We’re both insecure and there’s no communication between us. Don’t you see it? I think the best thing to do here… is take a break.”

It was silent, save for the chirping birds. In the distance, Y/N could hear Clarisse let out a battle cry. Luke sighed, stepping aside. “Just… take the flag, Y/N. Take it. I don’t care about it anymore.”

“We’re going to talk about this later, Luke.”

“Yeah. I know, Sparky. Just… go.” He heaved another heavy sigh, almost shaking. Y/N gripped the flag, sparing Luke one more glance before she sprinted through the forest.

Luke watched as she not only stole the flag but also his heart with it.

[stevie-petey]

we thought love was something (we weren't meant to find)

﹂ season two of "come home"

as you approach a year since will's disappearance, things seem to be back to how they were. you still have jonathan and the boys, hawkins is boring again, and you and steve harrington aren't really friends. you convince yourself that it's fine, but time can't heal all wounds, and you sure as hell have your fair share of them. when will starts having episodes and your brother hides a literal monster from you, junior year becomes a lot more painful than it already was. (and because you can never win, steve gets dragged into it). (more complicated feelings arise). (as usual).

episode one: MADMAX - what does steve fear more ? you or the plague ? currently it's you, some guy with an awful mullet stares you down in the parking lot (gross), nancy invites you to a party from your nightmares, and you become an official unlicensed therapist for will. yay for junior year !

episode two: trick or treat, freak - you and nancy have a bonding session in the library (kinda hot tbh), billy gives jonathan and steve a common cause to unite on: Protect Y/N, you're a chauffeur to a very sad steve harrington, and dustin uses will's trauma to his advantage.

episode three: the pollywog - you lecture jonathan about daddy issues and then have an intellectual debate about healthy relationships, you play Mr. Love Dr with Steve, nancy and jonathan go on a sick side quest (and actually inform you this time !), meanwhile: you're about to put a leash on your damn brother.

episode four: will the wise - jonathan is gone for one day and suddenly all hell breaks loose, your hesitant friendship with steve is already rocky (thanks billy) but steve is hot when he's angry tbh, you become a couple's counselor to lucas and max (sorry dustin), and you're now officially the world's worst cat owner ever. and babysitter. but what else is new ?

episode five: dig dug - you and dustin bury a body and con your mother into fleeing town, great sibling bonding time ! you play hockey with a monster, dustin gets ghosted by his friends, and now it's your turn to kidnap steve (technically dustin does, but you don't stop him) who later gives you some terrifying realizations.

episode six: the spy - dustin and steve haggle a butcher, you throw some meat at steve and then have a weird conversation about love, you stop dustin from becoming an incel, and then you wrestle some demodogs like any real woman would. side note: steve is hot protecting the kids.

episode seven: the mind flayer - jonathan is back and has a lot of questions and you have even more for him, the gang gets back together and ties will to a chair, you tell the kid a story to distract him from his demons, steve is a confused mess but at least youre with him, and someone makes a surprise appearance (her name rhymes with shell).

episode eight: the gate - you encourage nancy to take your place (everyone is shocked), you and steve are the newest babysitters in town, billy ruins things as always, tunnels are weird when youre concussed, you remind jonathan of an old promise, and when the snowball comes you make your own promise with steve that you know you can keep.

⌑ set between seasons 2 and 3

﹂ episode nine: the fall - surprise ! life still carries on even with minor brain damage from constant concussions :( on the bright side, you and the gang all become homies. meanwhile, steve grapples with the warm fuzzies and parental issues before his worst nightmare happens: you meet robin. the horrors !

⌑ status: FINISHED

⌑ season two title based on this song x

⌑ blurbs set within "come home" can be found here x

⌑ “come home” season masterlist

*note: this is a part of my stranger things rewrite, “come home”, and other seasons can be found linked above :)

[rambling-at-midnight]

Second Chances (Part 2)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Vigilante!Reader, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne & Reader

Summary: Your and Jason’s relationship gets off to a rocky start in that, well... it doesn't have a chance to start, because the whole universe is conspiring against Jason. Everything comes to a head when a particle collider in STAR Labs malfunctions.

Word count: 5.8k

Six days after Jason discovered your regeneration abilities finds him waiting at a coffee shop at 8:53 a.m. He anxiously checks his watch again. You agreed to meet at 9, which really means you’ll be there by 9:10. He didn’t want to drink his coffee too quickly (how long did coffee dates last? He looked it up online and the results were inconclusive) so he drank a cup at home before leaving to sate the caffeine addiction every vigilante in Gotham suffered from.

It hadn’t made him more alert. Just more jittery.

Jason’s knee jogs beneath the table. It felt too high school prom to ask what you planned on wearing beforehand, so he used his best judgment (Damian would say Jason’s judgment was never good, but what did Damian know) and wore his only pair of jeans and a plain gray t-shirt. He knows a suit is too formal for a coffee date, and his usual sweats or gymwear is too casual. You’ve seen him in all kinds of clothing, so his appearance barely even matters, but at this point he’s going to sweat through the t-shirt before you even get here.

Instead of fiddling with his clothes, Jason combs his bangs back again.

As he walked through the door, Jason’s stomach had flipped like it was freefalling. A hundred little thoughts occurred to him, like, What if the shop’s closed today or What if this is the only coffee shop in Gotham that requires formalwear?

All his fears were unfounded. In the corner, a hipster wearing a fedora sips on his iced macchiato. Two tables down is a gaggle of GCU students that look like they’re cramming for finals. No one even looked over when he sat down to reserve this table for the two of you. It’s right next to the big ornamental bookshelf in the back of the shop, so hopefully you two will have a little more privacy.

Everything should be fine.

Everything is fine.

Jason checks his watch again: 9 a.m. sharp.

Shit. Should he order you a coffee before you get here? Is that presumptuous? Jason knows your usual order, but what if you have a different one here? What if you’re running even later than normal and by the time you get here all the ice is melted and you drink sad, watery coffee to make him feel better?

He should order your drink. Or maybe he should let you order your drink, and he should buy your pastry. Jason stands, then checks his phone to see if you’ve texted. You haven’t.

There’s no line, so he has no time to ponder the decision. When the barista asks what he wants, Jason panics and orders two drinks and two pastries. He saw something on the internet the other day about how women don’t like that anymore because then they feel obligated to stay at the date, but you know that he won’t pressure you, right? Like, sure, he’s never been in a relationship before, and Jason’s pretty sure he’s been in love with you since before he died, and he also wouldn’t be mad if you moved into his apartment tomorrow and never left, but he doesn’t have any expectations for today.

He thinks you two are compatible. Jason hopes so.

He checks his watch again: 9:04. A terrible thought occurs to him. What if you sleep through your alarm and never show up?

At 9:07, Jason’s order is ready, and when he turns around with two drinks and a bag of pastries in his hands, someone says, “Hi,” at his elbow.

Jason is a highly trained vigilante. The sight of him makes criminals crap their pants. He’s mastered over twenty styles of combat.

Jason jumps and drops the coffees.

Because you’re also a highly trained vigilante, you catch them without a drop spilling. “Hi, Jay,” you say again, eyes crinkling with your smile. You look… nice. More than nice. Just like you’ve seen Jason dressed any way, he’s seen you wear anything, and you never look anything less than perfect. But he appreciates that you put in the effort today.

Jason swallows. “H—” His voice cracks. “Hey, Y/N.” He cringes internally. So smooth.

You check the labels on both drinks and tape a sip of the one for you. “Thanks for ordering. Sorry I was late. Wanna sit down?”

“Yeah, sure,” says Jason. He sits in the chair across from you, then feels awkward with his hands. Should he put them in his lap? Keep them in sight?

You, on the other hand, seem completely at ease. Your eyes flick over him as you take another sip of coffee. Jason’s whole body flushes at your examination. He busies himself with his drink.

After about thirty full seconds of silent coffee drinking, you tilt your head and ask, “So how have you been?”

“Good,” Jason says. “I’ve been—good. You know. Recovering.” Internally, he curses his twisted tongue. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good,” you reply. Take another sip of coffee. Maybe you’re just as nervous as he is.

Jason nods. “That’s good.”

After another brief silence, you sigh and lean forward. Your eyes sparkle, like you’re trying to share a secret just between the two of you. “This is awkward, isn't it?”

Oh, God. You’re about to tell Jason that you two are better off as friends. “I mean, first dates are supposed to be a little awkward, aren’t they?”

“Well, yes, but because you’re essentially meeting a stranger. We’re not strangers, though. I know basically everything about you, and you know all about me.”

“Oh.” The thought of meeting up with a stranger to establish a relationship doesn’t appeal to Jason, honestly. He doesn’t think he could ever love someone he didn’t know. He doesn’t think he could love anyone more than you.

You cover your mouth with one hand. “Holy shit. I totally forgot. This is your first ever date, isn’t it?”

Jason feels his cheeks flush scarlet. “Well, technically, but—”

“Yeah, hanging out with Janie Morris in the library in seventh grade doesn’t count.” You wave your hand. “I’m so sorry. I’m totally ruining your first first date.”

“I wouldn’t call this ruined,” says Jason. He asks hesitantly, “Would… would you?”

You smile sweetly. “No. I’ve just never gone on a date with someone I liked this much. I’m a little nervous.”

Jason’s stomach flips. He opens his mouth to say something, but the sound of gagging cuts him off.

Damian and his friend, the youngest Kent kid, stand in line for coffee behind an absolute dickhead wearing a Blüdhaven police officer uniform. Dickhead has his back turned to you, ordering for the ungrateful kids, and Damian’s lip is curled while Jon Kent has his tongue out and finger pointed at his mouth, pretending to retch.

“What are you doing here?” you and Jason ask at the same time, but with vastly different tones.

As soon as he pays, Dickhead turns around and grins brightly. “Hey, guys! So you’re the reason Dami insisted on getting coffee before school.”

“Did Alfred give permission for that?” you ask.

Jon shoves his hands in his pockets and whistles. Damian suddenly finds the ceiling very intriguing.

Jason checks his watch. “He’s going to be late,” he says pointedly.

Dick shrugs. “That’s okay. I was late almost every day to Gotham Academy.”

“Yes, because you were a teenage delinquent. Those of us that actually care about our academics—”

As Jason continues to argue with Dick, Damian turns to you and says plainly, “You could do so much better, Y/N.”

“Come here, Dami.” You beckon him forward, and he sidles over reluctantly. You rub at his cheek with your sleeve. Gently, quietly, so he isn’t embarrassed, you chide, “That’s not a nice way to talk about your brother.”

Damian scowls. “He is not—”

Suddenly, the cash register topples over, pushed out of the way by Kite Man’s expanding kite.

You shove the kids behind you. Jason shoves you behind him. Dick shoves all of you behind himself.

Kite Man shouts at the underpaid barista, “What do you mean no one ordered my special drink this week?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the barista says. “Nobody wants green raspberry lattes.”

“Green raspberry?” Jason asks in disbelief. “Does that even exist?”

Kite Man whirls around. “Yes, it does, and it’s fabulous!” He stands in front of the door and shouts, “Nobody leaves until you all have tried my signature drink!”

Well, of all Gotham’s rogues, Kite Man is relatively harmless. It’s probably easier to just try the drinks and tell him that it tastes good instead of fighting.

Judging by the look on your and Dick’s faces—mutual exasperation—you’re all on the same page.

Unfortunately, the hipster in the corner doesn’t agree. He throws his fedora on the ground and raises his fist in the air. Presumably he has something motivational to say about nonconformity or whatever they care about nowadays. Unfortunately, the shop’s glass windows shatter, and four men with Penguin masks and large guns enter.

“Hey!” Kite Man complains. “I was in the middle of holding these people hostage!”

A squat figure waddles into view. “Fly away now, little birdie, or you’ll find yourself between my minions and a hard place.”

Kite Man shakes his head. “Just because you buy into your bird theme doesn’t mean we all have—”

One of the goons cocks his gun.

“Fine,” he huffs, “I’m going. But I’m telling everyone that you stole my heist.”

Cobblepot rolls his eyes. “You do that.”

Clothes rustle behind Jason, and when he glances over his shoulder, your date clothes have been replaced by your Ghoul costume. How did you even do that?

The Ghoul mask has no visible eyes, but Jason sometimes thinks he can see yours through it. “Get down.”

“Ghoul—”

“All right!” Cobblepot shouts. “Everyone, hands up and wallets out. As long as you’re smart birdies, I’ll let you all fly the coop.”

“Speaking of flying, has anyone here ever seen a flying idiot before?”

Cobblepot pauses. Everyone slowly looks up, and up, until they see you perched on top of the ornamental bookshelf.

“They’re about to,” growls one of the goons. He raises the barrel of his gun, but you’re already jumping to avoid the spray of bullets, feet out and aimed right for Cobblepot’s middle.

The force of your jump sends him across the shop. You land much more gracefully, put your hands on your hips, and say happily, “Now everyone has.”

The goons open fire.

Jason flips the table up, then crouches behind it. He pulls Damian down and curls around his soft human body. The Kryptonian kid will be fine. In fact, he’s in front of Dick, doing his best to use his invulnerable skin to deflect any bullets that fly in their direction.

Jason’s teeth grind. He hadn’t brought his helmet because he’s an idiot. There are a couple knives tucked into his left boot, and one handgun hidden in his right, but bullets spew so heavily over their heads that he doesn’t think he can join the fight without his armor.

Bodies hit bodies and people grunt. A man grunts, and you cry out. You grunt, and one of the men cries out.

Dickhead finally does his job. He twists around, face twisted into a snarl, and tackles someone out of sight.

“It’s Signal!” one of the goons screams.

Jason squeezes his eyes shut and covers Damian’s when the force of the sun lights up the room. Judging by a couple screams, the goons weren’t so smart.

When Jason straightens up, two of the goons roll around on the ground, clutching their faces and screaming about going blind. Dick has the other two handcuffed, and Signal has Cobblepot pinned.

Where are you?

Jason scans the entire shop, but he doesn’t see you.

“Todd!” Damian tugs his hand. “This way.”

Jason lets the kid steer him through the shop and out the back door. After a second, he realizes that the kid is following a trail of blood.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You’re in the alley behind the coffee shop, wedged between two dumpsters. Judging by the smear of blood in front of the one meant for recycling, you collapsed in front of it, then dragged yourself between the two to hide. Blood stains your pale suit from the trail of bullets in your stomach. One of the goons managed to hit you with at least seven. They’re all in a straight line across, too, and Jason would admire the marksmanship if it didn’t mean you’re bleeding out in the middle of an alley.

You rip the fabric of your suit until the torn skin is visible. Then you reach into one wound with your bare fingers. Sharp, pained gasps escape your mouth, sounds that would be screams had you more strength.

You pull out one bullet. It rolls away underneath the dumpster.

Jason drops to his knees. As much as he knows, intellectually, that you won’t die, it’s something else entirely to watch you bleed out. “Ghoul?”

Your helmet lolls. You cough, and red stains your mask from the inside out. “Hey, Jace. Sorry. Give me a sec.”

Damian pushes past Jason. You manually push your legs out of the way so he can crouch next to you, ignoring the puddle of blood growing around his shoes. They’re black, so the stains won’t be visible.

“Hey, bud,” you say weakly. “You okay?”

Damian nods. “I am fine.”

“Fucking Gotham,” you mutter. “Not even nine-thirty…”

Someone gasps behind Jason. He whirls around, ready to defend you when you’re unable to.

Dickhead has one hand over his mouth and another over Jon’s eyes, even though the alien can probably see right through his fingers. “Oh, that’s not good.”

“S’okay,” you say. Try to give them all a thumbs-up. “They nicked my spine, actually, so I can’t feel anything.” You cough again, make a choking sound, and go limp.

Jason feels it when you die. His heart twinges, and everything in his vision goes half a shade grayer. There’s less color when you aren’t in the world.

“Oh, my God.” Dick pulls on his hair. “Oh, my God, they’re dead.”

Jason tilts his head. “You don’t know?” He looks at Damian. “He doesn’t know?”

“I don’t know what?”

“Ghoul’s healing abilities are more advanced than we were led to believe,” Damian says briskly. He pulls tweezers out of somewhere and roots around in your wounds, extracting each small bullet with expert precision.

“Dami, stop that,” Dick says. He pulls out his phone. “We need to call someone. Jason, you stop Damian—”

“He has to remove the bullets before they can heal around them,” Jason says.

Dick stops dialing whatever number he’d thought of. He stares at Jason. “What? Jay, Ghoul’s—”

“Dead.” Jason’s mouth is sticky around the word. “Yeah, I know. But not for long.”

“Whoa,” breathes Jon. “I can see them healing.”

“Okay, someone had better explain to me what’s going on right now.”

Jason opens his mouth to, but then you suck in a deep breath and sit up, patting your stomach to check that you’re intact again.

And. Well. That pretty much explains it all.

You and Jason try to plan a makeup first date four days after, just a quick lunch on your work break, but that’s interrupted by a last-minute order, and you cancel when Jason’s already outside the building with flowers in hand. Then you stop by Jason’s apartment for a bookshop trip, but find him passed out on the ground from several stab wounds, and ‘patching Jason’s wounds and ordering takeout’ doesn’t quite count as a first date. Every time Jason visits, Damian is already there with a smug smile to belittle everything he says. Your relationship deserves a proper first date, with nice clothes and the right setting, and he can’t do that simple thing for you.

Two weeks go by, and Jason still can’t take you out on a proper date. The whole universe, and especially Damian Wayne, are conspiring against him.

But tonight will be the night. Tonight, Jason set up a (fake, he doesn’t want to set the whole building on fire) candlelit dinner in his apartment. Tim has been thoroughly bribed to keep Damian busy no matter what, Cass and Babs are handling Crime Alley, and Nightwing is patrolling your usual stomping grounds. Bruce accepted all this as measures to keep Gotham nightlife on its toes, so Jason doesn’t expect any issues from him.

Tonight, nothing will go wrong.

Only two minutes after the arranged meet time, you knock on his front door, and Jason trips in his haste to answer it. He almost brings down the entire table, but his hand narrowly misses hitting the edge. Jason catches himself against the wall and wrenches the door open.

“Hey, Jay,” you beam. You’re dressed somewhat nice, not that Jason’s complaining, but now he feels overdressed in his button down. At least his feet are bare. Speaking of, where are his socks?

“Hey. How are you doing?”

“I’m good, I—”

You stop short at the sight of the dinner. Jason swallows. Is it too fancy?

Then you snort.

Jason’s chest hurts.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” you say immediately. “Just—I didn’t think you were the kind of guy to celebrate every milestone.”

“What?”

“Well, I mean, this is our two-week anniversary, right?” You step further into the room and shed your jacket. “It’s sweet, Jay, really, but it’s really not necessary. Between the two of us, I’ll probably forget our one-year anniversary, so at least you’re good with dates.”

“Hang on,” Jason interrupts. “What do you mean, it’s our two-week anniversary?”

“Um, yeah?” You give him a weird look. “It’s been two weeks since we started dating. Or did I get the dates wrong?”

“We’re dating?” Jason squeaks.

You squint, open your mouth, and check the date on your phone. You close your mouth and say hesitantly, “Aren’t we?”

“You never told me that!”

“I didn’t realize it needed to be said!”

Jason splutters. Of course it needed to be said! “I never asked you to be my partner!”

“Well, duh, but you asked me out and brought flowers to my work.” You put a hand on your hip and pop it out. “I thought we would work out the details later. Look, am I wrong? Did I interpret this all wrong?”

Jason could rip his own hair out. “I’ve been trying to take you on one good date this whole time!”

Your face is blank for a while. Then you cover your mouth too late to hide your snort. “Sorry, sorry.” Your hands flap in the air, then you give him an apologetic look and set them straight at your side. “I’m being serious. Just, hon, what about the other dates weren’t good?”

Jason bluescreens at the nickname. He’s not sure how long he stares at you, but once his brain reboots and he realizes he’s standing like a creep, he wipes his chin to make sure there’s no drool on it, then says, “I didn’t even say anything to you when I dropped off the flowers!”

“Yes, I was on call, but I appreciated the gesture.”

“Then that other time, I nearly bled out and stained your clothes with my blood.”

“Yeah.” You bite your lip. “That was kind of stressful, but you weren’t in any real danger of bleeding out. I would have freaked out a lot more if that was the case. Besides, I like taking care of you.”

You have got to stop saying cute shit like that, because Jason’s whole face heats up like a tomato and he can’t muster up any real words. What is it about you that turns him into such an idiot?

“Every time I go to your place, Damian’s there.”

“Damian is literally always at my apartment. I’m afraid that you’ll see even more of your brother if you really start dating me. Since we haven’t been already.”

Jason sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as you sidle closer and grab his other hand. Your fingers intertwine with his. “I guess that was kind of stupid of me, huh?”

You shrug. “Not stupid. A little silly. But still cute.” You bounce on your toes and give Jason a look, and all he can think is Oh my God.

Because this is it.

He might have read everything else wrong, but Jason is pretty damn sure that you want him to kiss you for the first time. He might be awful, might be the worst goddamn person you’ve ever kissed, but he’s willing to practice until he’s the best.

Jason’s neck cranes. He leans down and you lean up, eyes fluttering shut, and…

Your phone rings.

Everything pauses. Your eyes open, and a crinkle appears between your brows. “I should take this.” You silence the sound, then look over the electronic screen. Jason doesn’t peek, although his Bat-paranoia is begging for him to.

“Isn’t your ringer always off?”

“Yeah, it’s, um… it’s an alarm,” you say.

You’re a terrible liar.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” You smile, but this time it looks forced. “I’ll see you later, Jay.” Instead of trying for a kiss again, you trap his arms to his side in a bear hug, then dart out the door.

Jason sticks his head into the hallway and shouts, “Are we still getting coffee tomorrow?” That was his backup plan for if something fucked up this attempt at a first date.

And something did.

You’re already gone.

He goes to your weekly coffee spot anyway in the vain hope you’ll show up. Nine o’clock passes, then nine-thirty, then ten.

After two hours of waiting, Jason has to concede that you’re not showing up.

The moment he stands, someone clears their throat, and when he looks back, Damian is in the chair across from him.

“Do you ever go to school?”

“At approximately nine-forty last evening,” started the brat, but Jason cut him off.

“Not interested in whatever tantrum you’re pitching now.”

“Sit down, Todd.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I know where Y/N is.”

Jason sits down.

Damian clears his throat again. “At approximately nine-forty last evening, Barry Allen sent a distress signal to the Justice League. Batman went to Star City to investigate, and he took Ghoul with him.”

“Why would he do that?”

“How should I know, you insufferable hooligan?”

Seriously. Victorian child. It was honestly ridiculous.

Damian lost a bit of confidence. “I am…” He bit his lip. “Worried.”

“Why?”

“I have not heard from Father or Y/N since their departure.”

Shit.

Jason shot to his feet. “Do we have a zeta to Star City?”

Damian scoffed. “Of course.”

“Good. We’re going to use it.”

“Affirmative.”

Jason drags the kid by the collar of his shirt. His bike is too far, so Jason hotwires a car and hauls ass to the Cave. Everyone else in this stupid nocturnal family is still asleep, so no one interrupts them when Damian turns off the zeta’s parental override and plugs in their coordinates. It’s a good thing he keeps a spare suit in the Cave; he hadn’t even thought to grab it from his apartment.

Jason takes a deep breath before stepping through. He’s had some time to think, so he knows exactly what he wants to say. He’ll apologize. He’ll ask to work through why you think your pain is such a non-issue that you’ll throw yourself at death headfirst. You’ll explain your thoughts, and agree to start thinking about your own health, and then maybe you’ll say ‘I love you’ to each other and kiss and live the rest of your lives happily ever after.

Jason steps into a tornado.

A metal plate zips by so close it nearly shears off his nose. Jason cries out and stumbles back, tripping over Damian as he emerges from the zeta.

“Are you sure you took us to the right place?” he shouts over the whirlwind screaming in his ears.

“Of course!” Damian yells back. “I do not make mistakes.”

“Then what the hell is going on here?”

“Unclear! The zeta should have put us in STAR labs!”

Jason stares at the big metal contraption in front of them. “I think it did.”

“What?”

He shouts, “I think it did!”

If Jason is ever going to look at a machine and think, Wow. That looks exactly like a time machine, this is that machine. It’s almost too massive to take in. And something is definitely wrong with it, unless lightning is supposed to be crackling around it and its metal plates are supposed to be peeling off.

Why had the Flash called Batman to help? What could Bruce do that a speedster couldn't?

“He’s gonna kill me for bringing Robin here,” Jason groaned.

Damian shouted, “What?”

“Nothing!”

Something yellow zips in front of them, and all of a sudden Jason can hear. His stomach just about falls out between his teeth when he pukes.

Damian doesn’t puke, although he does look queasy.

They’re now in another room in the lab. Thick glass windows separate them from the tornado. Watching the metal whirl around is kind of hypnotizing.

“Sorry,” says the Flash. “That happens a lot, actually.”

When Jason looks up, Batman and Ghoul are glaring at him. Funny how he can tell, even though neither vigilante’s mask exposes much (or all) of their face.

“Red Hood,” growls Batman, “what are you and Robin doing here?”

Jason looks past him and says to you, “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

Flash looks between you and Jason and coughs into his hand, “Awkward.”

You roll your eyes beneath your mask. “I thought this would take an hour, tops.”

“Things have gotten… out of hand,” says Batman, which is akin to someone else screaming about the apocalypse and end of all humanity.

“Two important pieces in the collider disconnected early this morning,” says Flash.

“Okay,” says Jason. “So put them back together?” Aren’t these two supposed to be Earth’s smartest heroes?

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“Quantum mechanics,” says Batman. “Too complicated to explain.”

You whisper behind your hand, “He’s been trying to help me understand all night.”

“So there’s technically good and bad news,” says Flash. “Good news: the malfunction is fixable. Now. It wasn’t before. Bad news: holding the machine together while it resets will kill you of radiation that unwinds your DNA. Good news: if I vibrate at just the right frequency, I may survive.”

“Okay, great,” says Jason. “What are you waiting for?”

“For you four to get out of range of the blast zone, mostly,” Flash says. “There is a small non-zero chance that the whole building will combust.”

“Five minutes should do it,” Batman growls. “Come along, Robin.”

Instead of coming along, Damian says, “What is that?” and points over Batman and Flash’s shoulders.

Everyone turns to look.

“I don’t see anything,” says Jason. He turns around to see Damian’s arms wrapped tight around your middle. By the time Flash and Batman turn back around, the boy’s arms are crossed over his chest as if nothing happened.

“Apologies,” Damian says stiffly. “I must have imagined it.”

Batman knows his son well, and he eyes Damian suspiciously, but at that moment a piece of debris hits the glass at the right angle, and shoots into the room. Flash jumps out of the way and it buries into the wall behind him.

The tornado’s cacophony is even louder, if that’s possible. Flash blurs into motion, and the ground pulls away from Jason. When he stops moving at the speed of light, he’s crouched beneath a desk next to you. Damian and Batman are together under the desk to your right.

Jason peers around the edge. All he can see of Flash is a yellow blur darting all over the machine. For a moment the wind stops, and every piece of debris clatters into the walls, then onto the floor. Jason’s ears ring.

“Is that it?”

There’s a tremendous crash, and Flash slams into the wall. The force of it holds him there for a moment, and then he tumbles to the ground, unconscious.

Batman darts out from the desk to pull the man’s body to safety. He taps Flash’s cheek, but the man doesn’t stir.

Well, shit. How long can they wait for Flash to wake up?

You say something, but Jason doesn’t hear. He shouts, “What?”

Your hands pull at your mask, and you yank it off, ruffling your hair. Jason smoothes it away from your face on instinct.

“Just tell me what to do,” he shouts.

Your eyes close against the wind. Tears escape the corners of both.

Jason feels your gentle fingers around the edge of his mask, and he helps you remove it. “What is it, Y/N?”

“I’m sorry,” you say. “This isn’t fair.”

“We can—why are you saying this?” His eyes dart between you and Batman. The tornado in the other room is growing worse by the second, but he’s just looking at you two like some soap opera.

“Hey!” Your fingers latch in the front of his collar, and you yank Jason’s surprised mouth down onto yours. Your noses bump, and he forgets to breathe (he should joke that you take his breath away when all this is over) but it’s… It’s perfect.

His first kiss.

Damian yells, “Gross!”

You pull back. A brilliant smile lights up your face. “Hey. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jason breathes.

Metal clicks around his wrist.

Jason looks at the handcuff, not really understanding your plan until you latch the other cuff around one of the desk’s bolted-down legs. “Don’t you dare,” he says. Jerks his wrist back. The cuff clatters but holds.

“I’ve got a chance.”

“Not a good one!”

“I’ll see you in a sec.” You stand up.

“What are you doing?” Damian hollers.

“Don’t do this!” Jason shouts. He fights with the handcuffs, and they creak, but he won’t get out of them in time to stop you. Anxious desperation courses through his veins. “Y/N, get back here!”

Damian’s head whips between you and Jason. His eyes widen, and he lunges out from behind the desk to stop you, but Batman catches him around the middle and hauls him back kicking and screaming.

You shout to Batman, “Get them out of here!”

The cowled man looks at you for a long moment. Jason’s spirits rise: will Batman stop you?

But then he nods smartly, giving you permission to exit the room and enter the tornado. Batman tears the door handle off seconds before Robin hits it, banging his fists on the metal and screaming your name. He lets Robin tire himself out doing that and crosses over to Jason. “Will you fight me?”

Jason stares at his father, tears brimming in his eyes. “How could you let them do that?”

Voice completely emotionless, Batman says, “It was the most practical risk to take.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s okay.” Batman crouches and reaches a hand out. He strokes Jason’s hair twice, the way he used to when they were younger, and Jason hates the way he leans into it. “I’ll be back for you, then.” He straightens and barks, “Robin, to me!”

Damian whirls around, teeth bared in a feral snarl. “I will not leave Ghoul!”

Jason can’t hear whatever Bruce says to him, but somehow he persuades Damian to help pick Flash’s limp body off the ground. With a flourish of capes, they disappear, and Jason’s left alone, handcuffed to a desk, listening to the tornado in the next room tear apart the love of his life.

The wind crescendos.

Abates.

The building holds its breath, and then—

Whoosh.

Jason curls up into as tight a ball as possible, teeth gritted against the terrible flooding heat. If not for the shelter of an entire wall and desk separating him from the flames, Jason would be burnt alive. No one could withstand—

Jason whirls around and screams, “Y/N!” The stupid fucking handcuff, he pulls against it, and it bites into his wrist, drawing blood. “Fuck, I’m being so fucking stupid—”

Jason braces the metal chain against one of his knives and applies pressure until it snaps. Then he’s up, feet skidding over glass and metal shards, and he bursts through the door to the particle collider. “Y/N! Ghoul!” He can hear his own panicked breathing, but he can’t regulate it.

You’re okay. You have to be okay. You survived a broken neck, severed spinal cord, and seven bullet wounds to the abdomen. Just because Jason can’t find your body doesn’t mean anything. Just because the room is filled with ash and dust and dirt and no fucking body doesn’t mean anything.

Jason screams your name until his throat is raw. The particle collider is ruined, partially collapsed, and Jason slices open his palms on jagged edges trying to shove it away. Are you stuck beneath it? Jason doesn’t even know what parts were broken.

Something clatters behind him, and Jason whirls around, but it’s just Batman.

Surveying the damage, the man abruptly looks old beyond his years. He barely spares Jason a glance before beginning his own search for you.

“Y/N! Please!” Jason begs. “You can’t be dead, you promised—”

“Red Hood,” Batman says, and his voice is so raw that Jason whirls around.

There’s a pale-clothed arm in Batman’s arm. Jason gasps.

Then he sees that it’s attached to a torso.

Batman grunts and tugs, and the rest of you slips out from under a thick sheet of metal. “Oh, fuck,” Jason says hoarsely. He stumbles over the mess and falls to his knees in front of you. “You smart little asshole, you—” Jason feels for a pulse.

Nothing.

What had Flash said? The radiation unwinds your DNA? Is that something Professor Pyg’s sick experimentation could protect you from?

“Hood,” Batman says.

“No.”

“Hood—”

“Fuck off, B.”

Instead of fucking off, the older man pulls down his cowl and sinks to Jason’s level. “You’re bleeding, son.”

“It’s fine,” Jason mutters. His hands are rubbing it onto your suit, but you’re good at getting bloodstains out of the fabric. It’ll be okay. “Come on, Y/N.” His lower lip wobbles, but Jason resists the stone forming in his throat. You’re fine. You’ve always been fine.

Maybe you just need to breathe better. Jason rips off your mask, but that doesn’t help. Maybe he needs to breathe. He removes his own helmet, but that, too, makes little difference.

Physically, you look fine. Jason doesn’t see a single wound.

Of course, it would be hard for the naked eye to recognize unwound DNA, wouldn’t it?

Jason abruptly has a rush of sympathy for Dr. Fries. He doesn’t give a shit how long it takes or if the technology hasn’t been invented yet, your DNA is getting re-wound.

Then you suck in a deep breath. Your eyes fly open.

DC taglist

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forever taglist

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit  @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

[enha-stars]

hi! can you write hc's about what enha would do on your 1 year anniversary? can be sfw or nsfw (or both) whichever you prefer!

✧ one year down, forever to go

pairing: enha hyung line x reader (fluff, smut)

summary: it’s your one year anniversary with your boyfriend, and he is so excited

warnings: fluff, kissing, sex, standards will be raised

a/n: tysm for this request! i love anniversaries so much. i just know all four of them would do the most

✧ heeseung;

all he’s been thinking about for the past four weeks is your one year anniversary; he’s excited and he’s nervous and he wants it to be perfect because you are

he spends hours deciding what he wants to do; how he wants to celebrate a year of love and happiness with you

eventually, he decides that the only way to spend your anniversary is to spend the whole day with you; he decides on three restaurants (breakfast, lunch, and dinner), he buys tickets to your favourite places, and he brings you back to all your first date places, reminiscing the beginning of a beautiful relationship

he doesn’t let you worry about a single thing, wanting you to have only the best time; so, when you ask him questions before the date, he plays them all off like he isn’t buzzing with excitement

the entire day, his body is somehow touching yours; his hand on your lower back or pinkies linked, he needs to touch you, and when his needs grows to be too much, he’s kissing you; slow and messy

once you both are back home, exhausted yet inexplicably happy, he lets you wash up before he sits you down on the bed and pulls out his final and favourite gift of the night; a promise ring that he designed during one of his late night gaming sessions

he watches your reaction carefully, eyes focused only on you as your lips part and your eyes glaze over, nothing but fondness in them as you look up at him

“i know it’s only been a year, but it’s been the best year of my life and i want to spend every year with you until we’re eaten by worms.”

he grins widely when you reach behind you and hand him a small box, a pink blush reaches his ears when he stares at the ring in the box, knowing he would only ever replace it with a wedding ring

and when he makes love to you that night, he does so slowly and sensually, making it all about you; he’s between your legs for hours before he even considers his own hard on, finding the most pleasure in pleasuring you, tongue against your core as he loses himself in his favourite meal

he doesn’t tease you, doesn’t ask for anything; only wanting to feel you around him as you suck him in; and he fills you up that night, a lovesick smile on his face as he watches himself spill out of you

✧ jay;

he’s been thinking about your anniversary for six months and begins planning everything three months before, wanting it all to be perfect

he has a few nights of panic when he realizes that nothing he wants to do seems enough; not for you, the love of his life

one night, after you’ve fallen asleep in his arms after you had a rocky day; he realized that the best way to celebrate your anniversary would be to spend it at home, alone and in the comfort of yourselves

a month before, he texts your friends and makes a plan with them; they’ll keep you preoccupied the day before your anniversary and when you come home that night, after midnight, he’ll be waiting for you with candles and rose petals littered everywhere

he watches you as you simply stare at him, a smile widening on your lips as he stares at it; so mesmerized that he promises himself to make you smile like that for the rest of your life

he's usually romantic, but he's pressed against you the entire night, making sure you feel incredibly loved and wanted, making sure that it was all about you

that night, he spends hours in you; making love to you like he had all the time in the world; kissing and biting your body as he wraps your legs around his shoulder, and pushes himself deep within you; wanting you to feel how much he loves you, reaching so far in you that it has you seeing stars

he's awake before you are, preparing your breakfast in bed and even when you waddle into the kitchen, he simply picks you up bridal style and brings you back to bed, wanting to eat with you while you're both comfortable

you both spend the entire day lost within each other; cuddling and talking, finding comfort within your barely clothed bodies as he makes sure to show and tell you how much he loves you, and how this anniversary is one of many

in the evening, after you both eat a delicious dinner that he doesn't let you help with, he gives you your final gift; a delicate necklace with the first letter of his name and at your awe, he shows you his, the first letter of your name hanging directly above his heart

"you know i love you, but i wanted to keep you close, as close as i can, because it belongs to you, only you. my heart, i mean. forever."

✧ jake;

he's nervous, has been for almost two weeks because he wants to buy you a house and a fridge and everything a house needs but he needs to be patient because it's only been one year; one out of many, but still one nonetheless

unknown to you, but he has spent a total of 76 hours on the internet trying to find the perfect way to celebrate your anniversary but he likes none of the options; because none of them scream YOU and HIM finally, in his dreams, a brilliant idea comes to him and he wakes up with a start, typing it all in his phone before he wraps his arms around you again and lets himself drift off, warm and content

the next morning, he calls his cousin that works in the amusement park you used to visit when you were a child and asks him for a huge favour, yelling out his thanks to the phone when everything goes smoothly

the morning of, he's all over you; making you breakfast in bed and kissing you softly, his heart about to burst out his chest in excitement and love

he sits you in his car and drives you to the secret location, hand on your thigh as you try and ask him questions, words dying on your lips as you see the familiar roads and signs again, smashing your lips against his when you realize he rented out the whole place for you

he grins at you with wide, heart eyes as he follows you like a lost puppy, taking all the rides you want and playing all the games you glance at; he takes pictures of you on the mary-go-round and wins you all the stuff animals

at the sound of your laugher, uncontrollable and loud, he pats his chest a few times; willing his heart to calm down, but it begins to beat rapidly when he gifts you a bracelet at the top of the ferris wheel, small charms of your favourite items and hobbies dangling from it

unknown to him, you pull out a bracelet and hand it to him, the same goofy smile on your lips that he supported as he gently slips on the bracelet, kissing the small heart that was looped through it

emotions high and arousal deep, the car ride back is quiet and filled with nothing but delight, his thumb rubbing circles on your inner thigh as you play with your bracelet, completely in love with it

that night, when he kisses you deeply, he whispers his quiet promises to you, needing you to understand that his entire being was yours, that although it had only been a year, he knew where he belonged and it was with you

when he makes love to you, he spends majority of the night buried between your legs, his tongue and fingers finding home before they move up and down your body, obsessed with the taste of your skin

he lays beside you, holding you tight to his chest as he pushes himself deep within you, mumbling small praises, and when you let go, so does he, and he continues rocking his hips, the images of a house with you flashing through his mind

✧ sunghoon;

he likes to think he's very nonchalant about most things but he has been freaking out for a week; having been so nervous and excited that he pushed everything till last minute, the fear of not doing something spectacular had crawled up his chest

a few days before your anniversary, as you nap in his laps, he realizes that he feels incredibly safe with you; knowing that he had found his person and that he wanted to share everything with you

quietly, he pulls out his phone and texts his old coach, asking him a huge favour; he plans everything in that single hour, his hand rubbing up and down on your stomach as you sleep peacefully, unaware of his plans

the day of, he wakes you up by pressing soft kisses to your body, pressing his tongue in the crevices of your body, smiling when you guide him between your legs, a soft smile on your face as he smiles at you before kissing you right where you needed him

you both make breakfast in the kitchen side by side, laughing and bumping hips as you eat, standing across each other; not wanting to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere that had been created

with bright, mischievous eyes, he picks out warm clothes for you and then drives you both to the ice rink, laughing as your eyes light up in excitement; having been deprived of his skills due to his shyness and fears

he smiles at you with nothing but tenderness as he laces up your skates, gently guiding you onto the empty ice, having booked the entire rink just for you both, wanting to let you in completely

you laugh and smile as he holds you, skating around the rink with ease as he shows you different tricks and shows you a part of him he had kept hidden away; your heart feels full and his heart feels fuller, softness leaking through his skin

“i really really do love you, you know? i feel the safest here, with you in my arms as you cling onto me”

he takes you on an evening walk, hands linked together as he guides you through the park, his smile widening each time you find a small gift he had hidden in the grass earlier

when you push him against a tree at kiss him messily, he concludes that he would willingly do anything you wanted him to do as long as you kisses him like this, for years and years to come

that night, he pushes you up against a wall and sinks to his knees, his nose trailing from your stomach down your legs; he lifts you right leg and rests it on his shoulder before he clasps a beautiful anklet around it, his name grazing his cheek

he pushes your legs up to his shoulders as he makes love to you, obsessed with the sight of the anklet on your ankle; the sight alone is enough for him to beg you to let him fill you up, the need of feeling everything around him too strong

[yuquinzel]

SIX WAYS TO SAY I LOVE YOU — itoshi sae.

ಣ₊˚. contents — (4.2k) wc, f!reader, pure fluff, reluctant friends to lovers??, mutual pinning, roommates!au

ಣ₊˚. synopsis — itoshi sae has known you for six summers, and he's told you he's loved you in six different ways.

i. ( like the fleeting warmth of sunsets in winter. )

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❝ i don't hate you. ❞

the first time you meet itoshi sae, you're fifteen and he's sixteen and you're almost certain no one in his life has ever told him to shut up. you can't stand him, he's rude and all too full of himself, and he rebuffs all your attempts at being friends. you take it as your hint to not be involved with him at all.

which would've worked if you weren't classmates and neighbors. sometimes you end up at his house more often than you'd like —courtesy of your mothers being old college roommates— and you try offering your fair shares of polite greetings of “oh, hello” and good morning or good night texts.

he either leaves you on delivered —seen 6hrs ago if you're lucky— or he prefers to stare at you like you've said the dumbest thing known to man, a curt nod is his way of acknowledging your presence but not bothering to reply back.

it's a sappy cliché. parents beings friends so naturally you and sae must spend a lot of time together except it's anything but that and you're sure he hates you. you're not a big fan of his casual glares either. you come to accept that the two of you are nothing but strangers with threads of chance meetings tangled unfavorably in your lives.

sae sits three desks away from you in the next row and yet he feels a world away from your reach. sometimes your eyes meet in the hallway and you've long since given up on smiling or waving, so that's where it ends.

you eventually become friends with rin, he's a year younger but much more tolerable than his older brother. sure, he's stoic and awkward but at least he doesn't look like he wants to kill you every second. rin walks you home every day, because you're friends. sae tags along, because his mother insists on being nice to you.

six months pass in the blink of an eye, the chilly wisps of winter beginning to gnaw away at your skin. you're sixteen now, and your relationship with sae is as rocky as always. rin's not walking with you today, so it's just you and him. there's not much talking between you and sae. you don't acknowledge his presence, maybe he prefers it that way. you call a friend instead— because as sae has come to notice, you're not a fan of long (awkward) silences— chatting away about adjusting to a new life and a seatmate that's been bothering you who just won't take the hint.

sae scoffs, and you pause.

it's been a long, tiring day and the absolute look of disdain on his face hits the last nerve, “is there a problem?”

“no,” he says flatly.

sae walks ahead without so much as sparing you a glance. he's about ten paces ahead when he turns back, “you coming or what?”

“i'm sorry if me talking is such a bother. but i'm not talking to you. why're you even here? you and i both know you'd rather be anywhere else. i know you hate me and all, but you don't have to act like you're doing me a favor. because you're not.” you spit, it's harsh and biting like the cold gusts of wind caressing your hair. heat begins to settle in your cheeks— in anger or in response to the cold against your skin, sae isn't sure.

silence creeps up in the heavy atmosphere, you think he'll disregard you as always. then, “is he bothering you too much? what, does he stalk you or something?” straightforward as always, you're not sure if sae's mocking you or feigning concern.

“why do you care? because your mom asked you to?” you cross your arms.

sae clicks his tongue, “that's not what i asked.”

he knows you're stubborn. he knows you don't have the kind of relationship with each other where you come to talk about your problems and offer solutions, so he's not surprised when you brush him off, “it's none of your business.”

you walk past him, the distance between you two feeling larger and heavier than ever. “i don't hate you.” but not enough that you don't hear him.

the next day your seatmate is bowing his head in hastened apologies and stumbling over his own words, frantically avoiding your gaze, “i'm sorry, y/n! i swear i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable! i didn't stalk you or anything, i should've taken the hint! please forgive me, I'm sorry!”

you're taken aback by his trembling hands and staggered voice, the sudden modesty of apologizing.

sae doesn't walk with you that day. rin does and you ask him if he said something to your seatmate. “what seatmate?” he'd replied. you remember you didn't tell him anything about anyone bothering you.

you didn't tell anyone besides your friend who lives all the way back in Hokkaido—

— and sae.

ii. ( like the first spark of festival firecrackers. )

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❝ call me by my first name.❞

the festival spirit is exuberant per usual. the night-time adorned with food stalls coupled with fumes of spices and sizzling meet, children running through tents, and the blossoms of juvenile love confessions filling the air with the laughter and cheering of people attempting at festival games— it's enchanting, catching you in a trance.

you'd somehow convinced sae to join you, “we'll just go and watch the fireworks show. you'll have fun, i can guarantee that much.”

sae turns seventeen before you, his life falling into a rhythm of soccer practice (as much as he can), classes (mandatory, unfortunately), back home and exercise (lots of it), then watching the clips of the matches of every opposing team (he loses track of time). 

the stone of walking home with you everyday is thrown somewhere in there, with the ripples in its wake stretching comfortably in his life. it's no longer at the instance of his mother. out of habit or choice, you wait for him everyday until his practice is over and sae doesn't mind it too much. he never really did, it might just be something he looks forward to. (you don't need to know that.) he'll say a lot has changed— he's not sure if you can be called a friend but somewhere along the way, awkward silences turned into comfortable breaths of matching paces as you walk, eyes meeting by chance outside of class and sae doesn't mind being the one to wave first, he turns on his notifications just so he can reply to you in time albeit dryly, you've learned to not take it personally.

it did take efforts from both of you— sae being just a little more careful with his words around you, a little more patient. his responses are quick and sharp as ever, but not dismissive anymore. when you talk to him, it doesn't feel like a one-way conversation. he's figured he likes listening to you talk more than initiating any conversation. and you've learned that while sae will rarely be the one to break the silence, he most definitely hates it as much as you do.

one step at a time— matching paces to walk together, waiting for the other one to catch up, that's how you and sae work.

so when he'd initially refused to your suggestion, he's quickly learned that you're a lot more persistent and criminally good at convincing him than he'd like. this is how he now finds himself with you, laid out on a hill in the north of tokyo prefecture, empty boxes of food lying beside and the wistful blues of post-sunset before the two of you.

“see, sometimes its not bad to enjoy the good things in life, itoshi.” you hum, lightly pulling at the grass beneath you.

“i do enjoy the good things in life. soccer is good.”

“yeah, yeah. but taking a break like this is pretty fun, isn't it? don't be shy, admit it already.” you joke, and sae doesn't reply. when you turn to look at him, he's already staring at you.

“what is it?” you ask, reeling back a little. it's a little unnerving, being the centre of sae's attention. it makes you feel small— for reasons you can't name. but it also makes you feel a little special, that's just one of the many things about sae you dont think you'll ever understand.

he draws just a little closer, the air shifting with him, “you still call me itoshi.”

“what?”

sae doesn't inch back, if anything, he's looking at you like he can't tear his eyes away, “nothing. you just don't call rin by our last name."

oh. that.

“uhm, so do you want me to?” you ask, a little hesitantly.

“i don't mind if you call me by my first name, y/n.” there's a certain lilt to the way he says your name, as if he's emphasizing on first name basis. he's always used your first name, and you've always noticed it sounds different wiith him.

he says it like it always rests there at the tip of his tongue, like an unspoken word finally leaving his lips. he says it like it's the answer to everything, like it's so natural that it's you— there's yes and there's no, and then there's your name.

you feel the heaviness of his gaze as if in anticipation, waiting to hear you say it. so after a moment of reticence, “okay, sae, first name basis it is.”

if you didn't know better, you'd say he looks... satisfied. something wavers in his eyes and he looks away, you find yourself missing the way his gaze lingers on yours.

later that night you'd lay in your bed, events of earlier playing in your mind in a loop.

sae.

his name rolls off your tongue as you bring a finger to trace your lips. you repeat it to yourself over and over and over again until it leaves a sweet, luscious aftertaste. it simmers in your voice and sounds like a lullaby. a melody of his name sung like secret whispers, one that calms you and eventually puts you to sleep. you think you like how it sounds, much like how your own does in his voice.

iii. ( like a lovedrunk gaze finding yours at 2 am. )

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❝ i don't mind if it's you.❞

you. sae. roommates.

the idea is laughable. downright idiotic. fifteen year old you would've bet a snowball's chance in hell that you and sae could ever be roommates. plenty of reasons for this to be impossible. one, for example— sae and you attend different universities. two— sure, you've gotten closer as friends but sae isn't exactly roommate material. well, he did mention he'd never even shared a room with rin so you can guess he's never had much experience either.

you'd suggested it as a joke, thrown it among the laughs and snarky comments in the games of uno you'd been winning for the past hour, “if i let you win the next match, will you let me move in with you?”

he'd scoffed at you, throwing a draw 4 card with a smirk because you're down to one card, “you lose.”

“you can't end the game with a wild card, smartass."

“sure can. players make the rules, and i just won." he says flatly.

“that is not what we agreed—”

“i win.”

“you're just making that up, sae, take it back this is gonna be my tenth win.”

“but i don't have any other card, what did you say about moving in?”

you pause at that, you didn't think he'd pay attention, “i was joking, you know I'm looking for a place near college.” you say as you pick up the deck of cards, shuffling them again to deal because arguing with sae is like arguing with a wall that sends death glares your way, you don't entertain that idea very much.

sae ponders your words, wonders if you mean it or not. he briefly imagines it, being roommates with you. then the words leave his mouth before he can think about it, “it's not a bad idea.”

you halt in your movements, letting silence take form. he almost regrets saying anything because what if you were just joking? what if you'd wanted him to brush it off as a joke too? did he overstep?— until he sees you gaping at him like an idiot. then he relaxes, and you think you hear him snicker, prompting you to come back to your senses. had you heard him right?

“it's not?”

sae shrugs, a little more confident in his words this time, “it's not. you know my place is near your college. you're tolerable, i don't mind having a roommate if it's you.”

he doesn't mind having a roommate if it's you. he doesn't mind spending a significant amount of his time in the same house, under the same roof with someone even though it goes exactly against the very reason he got a place for himself— if, and only if, that someone is you.

you'd be lying if you said that didn't just boost your ego and swelled your heart a little.

you try to bite back a smile, but fail anyway, “you're serious? when'd you get so generous?”

he doesn't say anything, offers you his signature scoff instead. well, if he knew what to say, he probably would. sae doesn't know why he suggested it. he's sure he would've said no before anyone else could throw the question. but then again— you're giggling and making fun of him and doing a little victory dance in your spot every time you win. it's 2 am, he remembers. and he's sitting in the living room of his apartment playing uno with you when he's not even sure he understood the rules.

he doesn't mind this too much. he thinks he can handle losing every match every night— if it's with you.

“you don't expect me to clean and cook for you right?” you joke, and sae takes a look at his card, and you catch the way his eyes flash with disappointment —he knows he's gonna lose this time for sure— “again, not a bad idea.”

“i mean if you pay me enough, i might—”

“that's not how that works.” he sets down a blue 5.

“that's exactly how it works.”

“i'm not the one looking for a place to live.” he says dryly, but you hear the amusement in his voice.

“hey sae,” your voice is close to a whisper, and sae hums. he waits for you to put down your card, or say something witty like you usually would. when you don't, he looks up at you, a pretty smile on your lips, “thank you, really.” you say before putting down a blue draw 2 card, but suddenly sae can't really focus on the game.

iv. ( like a breath of relief at the sight of home. )

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❝ because i wanted to. ❞

“sae, what the fuck?” you groan, rubbing your temples to ease the damn headache you woke up with.

“i thought i told you—” he begins, stirring something in the pan before grabbing a bowl, “—to stay in your room. everything's fine here.” he says, but nothing is fine, actually.

to put it simply— it's a fucking disaster.

you're not surprised, truly you're not. sae in the kitchen is always a disaster waiting to happen in the name of accidents and “i was just trying to warm the leftovers.” the sink is filled piles upon piles of dishes and something is burning in the pan to which sae isn't really paying attention to.

“have breakfast if you're here, you look like shit.” he says casually, as if there's not smoke slowly filling the air.

“i feel like shit too, but what are you trying to do?”

“making breakfast, obviously. well, yours is ready, you can take the scrambled eggs over there.” he beckons to the plate set on the table, and it's the only thing anywhere close to normal and edible.

“but it's my turn, you're on dishwasher duty.”

sae spares you glance— more like he shoots you a look of are you stupid? and did you seriously just say that, then clicks his tongue as he goes back to making whatever it is you don't dare question.

“didn't you have a headache?” he says at last.

“that was last night sae, i mean it still hurts like a bitch but not as bad as before. and anyway you didn't know that, so why?”

“because i wanted to. now pipe down, you talk too much.” he brushes off your words.

and you realise he's not gonna say it out loud. he's not gonna actually verbalise it like “you had a headache last night and i was worried you'd still be feeling like crap so i just thought I'd make you breakfast— even though i might burn down the kitchen in the process”, he'll instead say, “well? I'm not gonna hand feed you.”

and thats okay, you've long since learned to read between the lines and connect the slip-ups of his words. sae isn't one to swallow his own words, he says it like it is, for what it means. but there are times some meanings lie in his actions, not his unspoken words.

so you say nothing more, having heard him loud and clear. you sit down, eyeing your breakfast carefully. then, very calmly, “sae, this has eggshells in it.”

his head whips faster than an owl turning to you, “the fuck? shit—”, he takes the plate from your hands, “wait just a minute, this'll be done in seconds.” he beckons to the fried rice in the pan, the one you're sure was burning minutes ago.

“that's your breakfast sae—”

“’m fine, I'll have cereals.”

“you... hate cereals though?”

“do me a favor and shut up.”

you laugh at that, a sweet and warm laugh, “seriously, what are you doing sae? the kitchen's a disaster and I'm sure whatever you're making is not edible. you don't have to do this, i can have cereal too.”

he pauses at that, turns to you instead. he finds you smiling at him, and his shoulders relax ever so slightly. “you stayed up late last night with all those damn projects, i just thought breakfast would be nice.”

“thank you, that's really sweet of you. but you know what would be really nice? we have cereals, then we watch reruns of friends, and after that we can just laze around the whole day, get nothing done. you and me, it's the weekend.”

sae looks at you— really looks at you. the worry lines blurred on your forehead, the spilled darkening highlighting below your eyes, the tired haze in your voice, the warm but exhausted smile you wear.

he thinks you're beautiful, with your morning hair and still a bit of sleep in your eyes— you're beautiful and he cant find it in him to look away.

“okay,” he breathes— a sigh of relief and warmth and gratitude.

“okay,” you repeat.

v. ( like the union of heavens and the earth. )

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎❝ you don't know what you do to me.❞

sae's not sure how he ended up like this.

the first semester of second year in university has started, the wind carries the smell of wet earth after the first showers of spring, a touch of the scent of lemongrass lingers in the air— and you're stumbling on your feet with your already slurred words and bubbling laughter sputtering through the air.

he's amused really, because you're sober enough to at least remember who he is but tipsy enough to push forward with your insistence on reminding him how pretty he looks.

“saeee, i missed youuuu,” you whine, head falling back against his arm as it goes around to rest on your shoulder.

“you saw me 4 hours ago, and we live together.” he says, watching the way you frown at his words.

“but i still missed you, you should've been with me.” you purse your lips, the way you do when you try to hide your smiles.

“yeah, i think i should've, you're a mess.”

“and you're so pretty,” you slur, bringing your fingers to brush over the smooth skin of his cheeks, “your eyelashes are prettier than mine.”

sae holds you by your arm, a firm and protective grip. he walks patiently, making sure you don't trip on air, “is that so?” he chuckles, betting on the possibility that you'll likely not remember this.

“were you always this pretty, sae or am i too drunk?” you giggle, stumbling forward into his arms.

sae holds you still, “you're drunk, idiot.” they say people are honest when drunk, so surely you mean what you said? god, he's glad you can barely keep your eyes open because he can feel his ears burning.

“but you're pretty, so pretty, i could kiss you right now.”

sae thinks he feels the ground shift beneath his feet— or was it him that tripped a little? heat begins to settle in his cheeks, you've very successfully knocked the air out of his lungs with just a few words, “shut up, I'm taking you home.”

“why, you don't want to?” you tilt your head, cheeks round and wholesome and sweetly puffed.

fuck— a drunk you is very dangerous. sae makes a mental note of never underestimating your flirting skills when you're tipsy.

“you'll hate me for it later, just quiet down.”

“i won't. never, i promise.” the playful way you're grinning at him right now with warm hues favouring the color of your skin, sae frowns at that.

it's unfair, he thinks. you can't just get drunk and then call him pretty with amused eyes and playful grins, you can't just compliment him on his eyelashes and tell him how much you missed him. it's not fair you get to say you want to kiss him even though you might not remember it when he most definitely will think about it forever. he's not even sure if you mean it as a joke because he sure doesn't. and god it's really not fair how you're just standing there, breathing and smiling and holding onto him for support— and still look so goddamn beautiful. you're looking at him with glimmering eyes, waiting for him to take a step forward.

he wants to take a chance. he wants to run his fingers through your hair and guide your arms to loop around his shoulders. he wants to taste the alcohol faint on your lips and breathe your name like you belong to him.

he wants to kiss you. and to have you kiss him back.

he thinks maybe— just maybe, if he takes a step forward, you'll take one too.

so he does, “god, you don't know what you do to me.”

his lips crash with yours first, you'd hoped him to. it's warm and soft, slow and delicate, like only you know sae can be. it's long-awaited, you can feel the desperation building up under the hastened patterns sae's hands begin to trail down your arms, slithering round your waist as he pulls you close and closer. when you bring your hand to cradle the side of his jaw, sae melts into your touch. he feels his own heart ricochet like comets inside his ribcage— reducing all his thoughts to white noise. he pulls back once —to breathe, to accept, to admire— and then draws you back in. when your lips part for a final time and breaths tangle as one, you feel time freeze in that moment.

vi. ( like the first ray of sunshine through the window. )

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❝ i love you. ❞

“don't you fucking dare,” sae sneers, his hold on you tightening to keep you in place.

“sae come on, i have to make breakfast. do you want me to starve?” you protest, struggling to wrestle yourself out of his hold.

but sae's strong, and he's stubborn.

“breakfast can wait, i don't wanna get up yet.”

“how is it about you? i'm hungry sae.”

“and I'm tired, we don't even have breakfast this early on weekends. just lie back down, you know you want to.” sae tugs on your arm, and he's right— his arms held out look big and warm and welcoming.

“i really don't know what to do with you,” you let his arm snake around your waist once again, and pull you back under the sheets, “you're impossible.”

“and you can't resist me,” you think he looks pretty this way— the sunlight highlighting his smile as he pulls you closer, determined to not allow even an inch of space between you both.

“no, i can't resist running away from responsibilities.”

“i love you,” the words roll off his tongue before he can stop himself, it's not really intentional— it's just you and the scent of your shampoo and the flutter of your eyelashes against his cheeks, the curve of your lips on his and the warmth of your skin. it's certain and precise and so full of love— to sae, the idea of loving you comes as naturally as breathing. so it's natural the words are pulled from his throat like it's all just a part of him and spilled between morning mellows and fond chuckles.

“i love me too,” you joke, nuzzling closer into his chest.

“say it back—”

you shut him up with a kiss, “and i think i love you too.”

© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

i wrote this last night and then cried myself to sleep why isn't he real i want him 🥹

[hueningsloverr]

౨ৎ kiss her you fool !

pairing: established relationship!beomgyu x reader summary: dating beomgyu was rocky, simply because he didn't know how to kiss you. or how to ask. or when. luckily, he had his friends to guide him through it. word count: 1.0k extra: inspired by kids that fly's 'kiss her you fool'! apart of my valentines day series

beomgyu was not one to do things simply because it was asked of him. he 'marched to the beat of his own drum', or so his mom always told him growing up. and while it was his best quality, it was also his fatal flaw.

"no, we haven't kissed yet." he groaned, throwing his head back on his pillow as kai and taehyun laughed at him. it was an embarrassing thing to admit. six months dating, and he still hadn't worked up the courage to ask to kiss you.

he'd never kiss you without asking. his mom had raised him 'right'. and soobin would kill him if he tried.

kai continued snickering, even after beomgyu had practically rocket launched his pillow at the younger teen.

kai of all people was not one to laugh at others romantic endeavours, not with the state of his own love life.

"you gotta just ask man!" taehyun howled, falling back on himself as he clutched his sides, laughing so loudly beomgyu worried his parents would hear.

"you try to have a significant other!" beomgyu shot back, "a partner, who at that, is the prettiest person alive!"

kai's voice held a mocking tone, and then it was taehyuns turn to harass the boy. "it can not be that hard man!" kai giggled, as if he was a teenage girl on the phone. "just be like, hey, your lips and my lips would make an awe- ow! taehyun!"

taehyun grinned, turning his attention back to beomgyu. "the idiot's not wrong. just be polite. she's probably waiting for you to kiss her."

bviously, beomgyu was aware of that fact. he had long since stopped making excuses of his behalf, at this point it was simply a lack of guts. he had the rest of his life to live, so what if he embarrassed himself once in high school?

"don't be afraid dude," kai chimed in, and taehyun had half a mind to tell the teen to shut it. yet, kai was kai. he always made somewhat decent points at the end of the day. "dreams aren't found, they're made."

taehyun cackled, an exasperated, unbelievable, cackle. "shut up man!" he laughed, but beomgyu drowned out his younger two friends. they both were right.

quickly grabbing his phone, he texted you to meet him outside your house in 10 minutes. and with that he set off.

"i'll be back in a bit, you guys can leave whenever you want." he mumbled to his friends as he grabbed his coat and scarf off of his desk chair and sped out the door.

kai and taehyun were left completely clueless, but still giggling like mad men.

a quick walk through the park by your side, you practically freezing the entire way, was all beomgyu needed for a confirmation. he knew in most situations in life, he had endless attempts, yet somehow in that one moment it felt like he only got one chance.

stopping briefly at the steps to your house, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. he had half the mind to check it, but then he noticed you walking away.

"hey," beomgyu called out, his hand loosely reaching to grasp your wrist. it felt like every cliche moment in a movie ever. you always liked watching those movies this time of year. when the snow piled up so high outside it was a surprise school wasn't canceled, and the only thing left to do was watch movies.

"hm?" you grinned, turning back to look at your boyfriend. the streetlamp above gave you an etherial glow, and beomgyu felt his heart stop beating for a moment.

"don't go just yet." he whispered, inching closer. "there's more i want to say - more i want to do."

a soft look of surprise coated your face, and suddenly it was far too hot for it to be the middle of february. "what was it you wanted to say?" you mused, leaning closer to your boyfriend.

he felt his brain shut down.

there was no where to go.

no place to hide.

life presented him with two options, and neither seemed truly appealing. he could either let you go, or ask.

"i really like you," he blurted out, noticing how antsy you had become. you looked as uncomfortable as he felt - how fitting. "and i was wondering, you know, since we've been going out for so long…"

you leaned in again, as if following so closely behind his words you could guess what would come next.

"can i kiss you?"

your words caught him off guard. it wasn't supposed to go down like this - he was supposed to be the one to ask. it was supposed to be his romantic gesture.

beomgyu felt as the heat rushed to his cheeks, and he felt like all his defences had been knocked down. "oh," he managed to let out, eyes wide yet still so soft. all he could do was nod; a hesitant nod that said it all.

'i've been waiting for this'.

and before he could react, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his in a gentle yet determined kiss. his heart skipped a beat as he melted into the embrace, his mind going blank as he lost himself in the moment.

pulling away, beomgyu let out a soft gasp, and he watched in awe as you melted away from his grasp, up the steps, and into the warmth of your home. he could slowly feel the world around him shift back into focus, and the cold breeze began to penetrate his jacket.

it was still february after all.

and so, as he made his way back home, stumbling like an idiot drunk in love, he finally remembered to check his phone. his home screen was littered with notifications - mostly mundane things like a 394 day streak on duolingo to uphold, and pinterest board recommendations - but the most prominent was the oldest.

a simple text from taehyun that read "kiss her you fool!"

authors note: part 3!!! i've yet to have my first kiss... this may be wildly inaccurate. it most likely is. idk. also this is so late oh my god i meant to post it on like tuesday or wednesday but kept rewriting the kiss part😭

©2024 — all rights reserved to hueningsloverr , please do not plagiarise or translate any of my work

[tadc-harlequin-au]

RagaPom fan kid when🥺?

Jk but I ADORE your art so much i might as well be called a believer of it 🙇‍♀️

Harlequin!Jesterdoll fankid - Anya!

I gotchu homie I should probably also clarify that the fankids aren't canon-

This is Anya, or Aanya Belle. She is Pomni and Ragatha's child, and is the second child puppet to ever grace the world. Quite possibly the most emotional one too, earning her the title "Little Sensitive Poppet". She's sweet and empathetic like Ragatha, but she doesn't have a temper. She instead inherited her harlequin mom's intense emotional reaction, but for other emotions. Her classification is a Mannequin.

She gets scared quite easily and ends up crying for hours, which made Jax give up a teddy bear he had been keeping near and dear to him. Aanya has been never seen without the teddy bear ever since.

Yes, to everyone's surprise, Jax is good with kids.

She has the largest sense of empathy out of anyone, a trait clearly inherited from Ragatha. So much so to the point that she's willing to abandon her "safety spot" (which is any furniture she can hide behind) and comfort you with her teddy bear if she so much as senses you're upset.

Her relationship with her half-brother was a little rocky at the start; Cade was overexcited over the idea of a new playmate (that wasn't Bubble) and kept wanting to bite her fingers off, and so had to be kept in his favorite box to calm him down, and make him get used to his new half-sister's presence. Soon enough, he learned to get along, and eventually, their sibling bond strengthened.

Cade would hug Anya if he notices that she's distressed (which is something that my irl baby brother does and I used it as inspo here) and would not hesitate to step in the big brother role to protect her if there's a threat.

He also attends her miniature tea parties, although for some reason he likes to stay in his box when the tea party commences. He never touches the teddy bear either, and even seems to want to avoid to touch it. Pomni thinks it's because he doesn't wanna end up ruining it.

When Cade turned six months, Ragatha started avoiding Caine, which made the puppetmaster confused. There were no more invites to tea parties, no more friendly talks, and no longer did Ragatha ask Caine if he had another vinyl she could listen to. All the more, Pomni looked extremely guilty everytime they would talk, and looked like she really wanted to tell Caine something.

Caine didn't prod at the girls' relationship, since he knows it's not exactly his concern/nor is it his business. But when one day that Pomni came rushing in to his office for help because Ragatha collapsed in pain, Caine wasted no time rushing to her aid.

Once all symptoms were described to him, he immediately managed to connect the dots that Ragatha's die was also housing two souls, and that it went on for so long, it was already starting to kill her off FOR GOOD. When the puppetmaster asked why she had kept it a secret, Ragatha admitted that she felt guilty; Cade was already in this world and that she had no right to have a child with Pomni, yet here it was.

Caine was immensely disappointed, but not because of the little soul's existence. Instead, he was upset that Ragatha would rather risk her very own life for something so non-trivial, and that the doll was freaking out over nothing. After an intense and dangerous procedure since the incomplete soul's grip onto Ragatha was stronger than Cade's was, Caine managed to extract and transfer the soul, but Ragatha remained unconscious for three moons because of the exertion it took.

He told Pomni to keep the die for now, and wait until Ragatha wakes up, so they can both decide whether they want to keep the little one or not. Pomni, guilt-ridden, questions why he's remained calm, and not exploded over the fact that she and Ragatha created a new existence without his permission, and Caine simply replies "Whoever told you that you both needed my blessing for it, needs their heads bashed in"

Eventually, Ragatha wakes up and apologizes to Caine for giving him so much trouble. The puppetmaster is quick to comfort the mannequin, and that he's relieved that Ragatha survived. He then reassures both Puppets that they didn't have to keep secrets like this from him out of shame, since their polyamory relationship was consensual from both parties in the first place. After a reconciliation, Caine asked the question: Will they keep the soul, or not?

They chose to keep it. And in only a few months thanks to Caine's prior knowledge, Anya was officially welcomed into the world.

[livlaughloveluke]

𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫- 𝐣.𝐜

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you meet jack’s family for the first time at thanksgiving dinner

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: i COMPLETELY made up the members of his family, mentions of thanksgiving although if you don’t celebrate its only briefly mentioned so you can just imagine its a regular dinner ☺️

𝐚/𝐧: happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate! j will most likely not be posting until this sunday, although it might vary

you finished your light makeup by applying a swipe of lipgloss. your auburn dress was the perfect length, being both cute and appropriate for the occasion. you were going to have thanksgiving dinner with all of jacks family. 

there was one issue. in your six months of dating, you had never met anyone related to him. you would have liked to meet his mom earlier, but got as a rising actress, you got caught up in work and were constantly traveling to different states for events. however, from what jack described, she seemed precious. 

but what if she didn’t like you? what if something goes wrong and you embarrass yourself in front of everyone? oh god, this dinner was really messing with your head. 

“you almost ready, babe?” jack exclaims from the other room. you slip on your shoes and exit your bedroom, entering the living room where jack was. he was wearing a sweater that matched the color of your dress, and a pair of jeans.

jack stands up, and kisses your forehead. “you look good, y/n. my family will love you.” jack said, making you blush. his charm never failed to make you smile. 

you hop in jacks car, leaving your hotel room. you bounce your leg up and down, nerves taking over you. jack places his hand on your thigh, the coldness of it sending shivers down your spine.

“seriously y/n, don’t stress. if it makes you feel better, you are a lot better than my last girlfriend.” he said to you.

he was right, his last relationship had been a little rocky, and the girl he was dating wasn’t exactly the nicest person out there. it pained you to know that someone could be so mean, especially to jack.

jack was the sweetest boy, who treated you with the respect that you lacked from other guys. he stood with you at your lowest points in life, and helped you grow as a person. you flourished during your relationship with him, becoming the best version of yourself.

and you helped jack, too. when he was alone and heartbroken, you swooped in and provided the love he so desperately deserved. when he fell down, you were always there to help him get back up. he was happier and better person with you around.

the car came to halt, as you pulled into the driveway of a small cozy home. a few other cars were already there, and you presumed that it was his family. 

from what you heard, his aunt and uncle would be there, along with his older brother and his brothers wife. his grandma and grandpa would unfortunately not be attending, for they had caught a mild cold the day before. his sister-in-law had two daughters, one newborn and one six year old. you were great with kids, so they wouldn’t be an issue. you had spent your teenage years as a summer camp counselor.

you took a deep breath, and stepped outside of the car. jack interlocked your hands, and you both walk up to the door. he didn’t have to knock, and just walked in. everyone looked to see who it was, and when they did, a roar of greeting came from the crowd. jack hadn’t visited his hometown in a while, so there enthusiastic reactions weren’t unexpected.

the family then turned their attention to you, and you greeted them with a smile on your face. they smiled back, and started welcoming you.

“this is my girlfriend, y/n!” jack introduces you, and you start shaking everyones hands. you then got everyones, except the kids, names. jacks sister-in-law was named jessica, his aunt was shannon, his uncle brian, and his older brother was named joey. 

then, jacks mom, anna, invites you, jessica, and shannon come help set up. jack heads off to the living room with the boys, and the rest follow anna to the kitchen.

“so, how long have you and jack been dating?” his mom asks, and you immediately reply with a joyful tone. 

“around six months. i wish i could have met you sooner, but i’ve been nonstop traveling for work. also might i add, you did an excellent job raising him. he’s the sweetest and most caring boy i know.” 

“you’re to kind! now tell me about yourself!” anna replies, and you start informing the group of your origin. you share silly stories about jack, and laugh uncontrollably together while finishing dinner.

you hear the shy voice of a young girl coming from the doorway, and look over to see jessica’s oldest daughter walking in. she walks over to her mommy, and tugs on her dress. the bashful kid whispers something into her mothers ear, and they both look at you. you start to feel slightly embarrassed, worried as to what they were talking about.

“oh, thats uncle jacks girlfriend, y/n! why don’t you go say hi. i’m sure she doesn’t bite.” jessica says out loud, and your cloud of worries clear up.

she walks up to you, and you squat down to her height. you can tell she’s a little nervous, and you try your best to seem welcoming.

“hi! i like your dress. its very pretty.” the young girl whispers out.

“thank you! i love your hair! it looks super cute.” you respond back, and she giggles and thanks you.

“do you wanna play barbies with me in the play room?” she asks, and you look back, making sure it’s okay that you stop helping with the food. everyone nods and encourages you to go with the small child, so you follow her to where her toys where.

you sit down, and she gives you a doll. you start playing with her, and the girl, evelyn, seems to be having a blast. you giggle and joke with her, glad you can get along with her.

“shhh you can’t tell uncle jack i said this, but he told dad that he really, really likes you. and he also said you’re the prettiest and funniest girl he’s ever met.” evelyn informs you, and you can’t help but blush. you continue chatting with her, now seeming to be a little more at ease.

anna calls the guys to the dining room, for dinner was almost ready. however, before she sends jessica to grab you and evelyn, she begins to say something to jack and the rest of the family.

“you know, i really like her. i think she’s the one.” everyone agrees with anna, and praises  you for your generosity and amazing personality. jack loves hearing the groups words of approval, and he smiles, knowing you were definitely liked by his family. 

the feast begins, and you chat with everyone in attempt to get to know them better. it was an excellent dinner. the food was amazing and the conversations were plentiful. time flew by, and before you knew it, you were saying your goodbyes.

as you drove back to the hotel, you and jack began talking. you couldn’t up but light up at his words.

“i think they really like you, y/n.” 

taglist- @nowitsmissing, @nikoschrissis, @lvndryyhoe, @ieattoesforbreakfqst, @sevenheavxns, @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome, @imkillmyselfxoxo, @lumaxstans-blog, @ilovejackchampionnn, @hyeyulove, @jackchampiongf13, @sebastiansallowsgf, @michaelangdonsslut, @1212valee, @teenagedramaqueenlisa

some names wouldn’t let me tag :(

[yikesharringrove]

Steve had his mom have had a fairly rocky relationship.

When he was really little, they were close. She was a stay at home parent, and she genuinely loved playing with her toddler every day. Teaching him the alphabet, playing with dolls and trucks on the living room carpet, putting him in his high chair so he could watch her cook.

Things got tense when he started middle school. Steve was going through a severe awkward phase, and he didn’t really like anyone looking at him for too long. Including his mother. He started pushing her away, and she let herself be pushed. She started volunteer work with some other women in Hawkins, throwing galas and fundraisers at the country club.

Once in high school, Steve refused to be a momma’s boy. He was finally good looking, and he didn’t want girls to e weirded out by the fact that he spent more time hanging out with his mom than anyone else. He’s heard the donuts about Jonathan Byers. No thanks.

But, something happens in 1981. Something that meant Steve was about to bond over with his mom.

Princess Diana.

They are both obsessed. Steve’s mom let him stay up all night with her to watch the wedding live on TV. Steve would come home from school to see magazines with Di on the cover and riffle through it as fast as he could so he could talk to him mom about the latest photos, the latest philanthropical endeavor, the latest fashion moment.

It was something they always shared. Even when they didn’t share anything else.

When Steve fell in love with a man. And his parents cut him off. When he and Billy fled to the city at eighteen, nineteen.

Steve hadn’t even spoken with his mother in nearly a year, when she called him to ask if he’d seen the news, that Princess Diana had shook hands with an AIDs patient.

They talked for hours, and Steve cried on the phone, and he cried after. Because the last time he’d seen his parents, his mother called him disgusting and his dad had called him something even worse, and now his mom was calling him because Princess Diana didn’t wear gloves to shake a man’s hand.

Steve’s parents got a divorce six months after Diana did. Steve bought his mother a cake and an apartment five miles away and a recreation of the revenge necklace.

His mom pounded on his front door a few months after that. She was sobbing when Billy answered the door, and she hugged Steve Rochester than she ever had when she told him that Princess Diana was gone.

They both cried, and Billy made them tea and didn’t say anything because he thought their obsession was a little silly, but he would’ve killed Diana personally if it meant his mother holding him like that.

And nearly fifteen years later, at his mom’s funeral, Steve spoke about the two women that raised him. That his mom taught him how to forgive, how to be kind, and how to love, because Diana taught her those things. And Billy surprised Steve by playing Candle in the Wind on the piano.

[chelseachilly]

tired of loving from afar

pairing: mason mount x reader warnings: none, mostly fluff with a tiny bit of angst! word count: 5.3k

a/n: not me writing for someone other than ben lmao?? been really in my mase feels lately so here's a fluffy little long distance relationship fic (also was very happy to read this morning that he's likely going to be back after the international break! my heart has been hurting for him this season 🥺) have a great weekend loves 💓

-

Of the three years you’ve been with Mason, the past six months have been the hardest by far. 

You’d overcome other hurdles in your relationship, like adjusting to the exposure and demanding schedule of a professional footballer, learning to cope with your life being somewhat public and thousands of girls being in love with your boyfriend. None of this was nearly as challenging as having to adjust to him living 200 miles away from you. 

His move to Manchester was bittersweet - you were so proud of him for getting a spot at such a massive club and finally receiving the appreciation and recognition he deserves. You knew he was happy to have a fresh start and a chance to prove himself as a player. 

At the same time, it was incredibly emotional for him to leave his boyhood club, his friends, his family, and you all at the same time. You would’ve given anything to go with him, even if it meant leaving your own friends and family in London, but you were about to start your final year of uni there. You couldn’t just pack up and go, no matter how much you wanted to do so.

You’re passionate about your studies, and you knew it would all be worth it when you graduate and get a job in your chosen field - and in the same city as the man you love. You knew it was only a year.

That didn’t make it any easier to say goodbye.

You’ve both made a massive effort to see each other as much as humanly possible, going up to Manchester every time you have a break from classes or a weekend without an exam or assignment due. Mason has also come back to London any time he gets the chance, sometimes flying out just to see you for the day. You’ve been making it work, but it’s not nearly the same as living in the same house as him. Even when you were both super busy, you at least got to see each other when you woke up and before bed, and now all you have are texts and FaceTime calls. 

On a night like tonight, when you’re exhausted from the week and you just want to be wrapped in his arms watching a film, FaceTime really feels like a poor replacement for the real thing. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” Mason says, a sleepy smile on his face as he answers your call. “How was your day?”

“Hey, Mase,” you say, curling up with a blanket and admiring his face in the soft glow of his bedroom lamp. Judging by the fact that he’s in bed by quarter to nine, you figure he’s as worn out as you are. “It was okay, felt long. I finally turned in my essay, though.”

“Good work, babe, I’m sure you aced it like always.” 

You blush a little, never growing tired of how he takes every opportunity to praise your intelligence. Any time someone asks about your studies, he does a full spiel about how smart you are.

“We’ll see,” you say. “How was your day, love? Any updates at physio?”

The way his smile instantly fades makes your heart drop to your stomach, fearing the worst.

“Yeah, um-it’s looking like a bit longer,” Mason says, and you can tell he’s trying to keep his voice steady so you don’t worry too much. “Maybe another few weeks. They’re not sure.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” you sigh. “I’m sorry. I know how frustrating this is.”

The hardest part about being away from Mason has unquestionably been watching him struggle from afar without being able to properly support him. From the rocky start to the season, to being out due to injuries basically ever since, it’s been torture not being there for him. 

You went up straight away when he first injured his calf in November, needing to both emotionally and physically care for him, but you couldn’t stay long before your exams started. Since then, you’ve done your best to help from London - sending him care packages, calling him as much as your schedule allows, asking Luke and Anouska to keep an eye on him and let you know how he’s holding up. 

In moments like these, though, what you really need is to hug him and tell him everything is going to be alright. 

“Yeah, it’s a bit tough,” Mason admits, fiddling with his hoodie string. “But at least I’m back in partial training, it could be worse. I could’ve done my ACL or something, you know? I’ve been pretty lucky in my career so far.”

One of the many things you love about him is his infectious optimism, how he always sees the best in situations and in people. 

Right now, though, you’re not sure you fully believe the words leaving his mouth. He looks so disheartened and downtrodden. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask, frowning. “I know it’s not the news you’re expecting, you’re allowed to be disappointed.”

“I’ll be fine, angel, don’t worry about me,” Mason reassures you. “Just missing you a little extra today.” 

“Me too,” you murmur, touching the screen and wishing it were his face. “I’m sorry I can’t make it up this weekend, but this group assignment-“

“Don’t apologize, baby, I know how busy you are this term,” Mason cuts you off, just as he always does when you try to apologize for being so far away. 

You do the same to him when he tries to say he’s sorry for uprooting your life together, for not being there when you’re stressed about school or just having a bad day. Truthfully, neither of you are at fault, it’s just life. But it still sucks sometimes. 

“We’ll see each other in a few weeks when I have my reading break,” you remind him. “Just a while longer.”

“I know, I’m counting down the minutes,” Mason smiles. 

You talk for a little while longer before you reluctantly have to go so you can get ready for bed, and you promise to call him again tomorrow night. 

The sad look on his face when you say goodnight lingers in your mind as you shower and do your skincare routine, and by the time you climb into bed, you’ve made a decision.

First, you message your group for the assignment you’re working on and ask if you can push your planned meeting to Monday rather than Saturday. Next, you text Luke and ask him to make sure Mason doesn’t have plans tomorrow night.

Lastly, you book a train to Manchester, because you’ll be damned if you don’t go cheer up your man when he needs you.

-

The moment you arrive at the train station in Manchester the next day, you hop in an Uber and make your way straight to Mason’s.

You know that he’s still at training and will be for at least another hour or so, as you’ve been texting Luke for updates so Mason doesn’t get suspicious. It’s not unusual for you to ask how his day is going, but you don’t typically ask for the exact time he plans on leaving Carrington or instruct him to go straight home after training.

Using the key that Mason gave you when he moved in, insisting that it was still your home even if you don’t live there the majority of the time, you let yourself into his house.

You drop your bags and immediately get to work on creating the perfect cozy, romantic Friday night in.

By the time you get the text from Luke that he’s on his way back with Mason, having devised a fake plan of coming over to play FIFA after training to ensure Mason didn’t make other plans, you’re just finishing up.

You’ve successfully transformed his house, which he bought furnished and has put very little effort into making homey, into a much more welcoming environment. 

You ordered flowers for the kitchen table, as well as enough groceries to make dinner for him tonight and to replenish his far too empty fridge. You did a bit of tidying, deciding to do a few loads of laundry for him when you noticed there was quite a pile forming, and it must have been a week or so since the cleaning service he pays for came. 

You put some soft music on his speakers and lit a few candles in the kitchen as well, popping a bottle of white wine into the fridge so it’s ready for your dinner. 

You’ve just started chopping a few veggies to get a head start on dinner when you hear the sound of the front door opening followed by distant voices, one of which you immediately recognize as Mason.

“Do you hear that music?” 

The sound of your boyfriend’s voice after weeks apart fills your stomach with butterflies - you’re just as giddy to see him as you were in your early days of dating. 

“Probably the neighbours, mate,” Luke responds, still playing along with your ruse. 

“I don’t think-“

Finally, the guys turn the corner into the kitchen, and you see Mason come into view with Luke trailing behind him. His eyes widen in surprise for a moment, slightly startled by there being someone in his house, and then he realizes it’s you and his mouth falls open in shock.

“Surprise,” you say shyly, while Mason is still at a loss for words. 

He immediately drops his training bag to the floor and makes a beeline for you, pulling you into a tight hug and lifting you off your feet before you can even hug him back properly. 

You relax into his arms right away, squeezing him just as tightly as he’s squeezing you and breathing in the familiar scent of his soap and aftershave, freshly showered after training. It’s the same scent that lingers on the t-shirts and hoodies that you steal from him every time you come up, wearing them until you regrettably have to put them through the wash. 

“Baby,” Mason mumbles into your neck, pressing little kisses there. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I’m here,” you confirm, wrapping your legs around his waist as he refuses to set you down or let you go. “I missed you way too much to wait another three weeks.”

He pulls back far enough to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, his hands sliding down to your thighs to support your weight as you kiss him back. You can feel the pieces of your world shifting back into place, your heart settling in your chest as you sink into his warmth.

Mason presses a few more quick pecks to your lips before reluctantly setting you down, arms still wrapped around you. It’s only then that you realize Luke is still here, shuffling awkwardly in the corner. 

“Thanks for your help, Luke,” you say with a shy smile, moving to Mason’s side. 

“Of course, the man never shuts up about how much he misses you, so it’s really a favour for me as well,” Luke jokes. “I’ll leave you guys. Enjoy your evening.”

“Thanks, mate,” Mason says with an eye roll and a grin before turning his attention back to you, pressing kisses to your head. 

“Night, Luke! Give my love to Anouska and the kids,” you call out, though you’ve also turned back to face Mason and bury your face in his chest. 

You remain in each other’s arms, just holding one another and breathing in and out for a minute or two. 

You knew you missed him, but you don’t think you realized quite how much until right now. It’s taken such a toll on both of you being apart for so long.

“How long are you staying?” Mason asks quietly, almost like he’s afraid of the answer, as he lightly rubs your lower back. 

“Until Monday morning,” you say. You wish it were longer, but three nights together is the best you’ve gotten in a long time. 

“Really?” Mason asks, pulling back and looking at you with bright eyes. “I thought you had to do your group assignment tomorrow?” 

“I pushed it to Monday, I had to come see you after we spoke last night.”

You reach up to cup Mason’s face with one hand, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. Judging by the way he’s avoiding eye contact with you, you know you were right to come. He’s obviously been struggling with the disappointment of the never-ending injuries, all the uncertainty it’s brought. 

“I’m okay,” he says softly, turning his face to press a kiss to your palm. “Now that you’re here, everything’s okay.”

You melt at his gentle words, but they don’t do much to ease your worries about his emotional wellbeing. 

Mason gives you a quick peck on the forehead before looking around the room, noticing the food you’re preparing and the cozy, romantic vibe you created for your evening. 

“What’s all this?” he asks, a small smile on his face. 

You’re not keen to drop the subject, but you don’t want to ruin your rare weekend together by bombarding him with questions either. You know he’ll talk about it when he’s ready. 

“I just ordered some food for dinner and restocked your fridge a bit,” you explain. “I figured you would be happy to stay in tonight, so I got stuff to make your favourite pasta.”

Before he can respond, the dryer beeps, signalling that the load is done. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Are you doing laundry?”

“I just threw a couple loads of your clothes in, I noticed you were running behind,” you shrug. 

Mason looks at you with complete awe, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he says softly. “You being here is enough. It’s more than enough.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck once more. 

“I know, but I wanted tonight to be perfect and relaxing,” you explain, pecking his lips. “No stressing about football or school or anything else. Just you and me.”

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” Mason sighs, squeezing your waist. “Can I help you cook?”

“No, but you can pour us both a glass of wine from the bottle in the fridge and sit down and tell me about your day,” you smile, kissing him one more time before pulling away to return to your meal preparations. 

Mason does as told, sneaking another few kisses when he brings you over your glass, then sitting at one of the stools at the kitchen island.

You treasure this domesticity more than almost anything with him - the simple act of chatting about your days while making dinner is something you’ve missed terribly.

When the pasta is ready, you dish it out into two bowls and bring them over to the table. 

“God, I missed your cooking,” Mason grins as he dives into his portion, obviously starving after a day of training. “It’s delicious, babe.”

“Thanks, Mase,” you reply, pouring yourself a little bit more wine. “You want some more?”

“Might as well, it’s not like I’m playing tomorrow,” Mason says, the offhand comment hurting your heart much more than he intended. 

He’s still smiling at you as you pour his drink, but you don’t believe for a second that it’s real. 

“Do you want to go tomorrow?” you ask after a minute of silence while you both eat. “I know you usually go to the home games, right?”

Mason shrugs. “Yeah, we can if you want.”

Once again, you don’t press him further, listening as he changes the subject and starts updating you on Ben’s latest girl troubles. 

After you’ve finished and cleaned up, you head into the living room to catch up on the new episodes of Drive to Survive. You always save your favourite shows for when you’re together, sometimes dodging spoilers for weeks just so you can enjoy it properly with Mason.

The moment you sit down on the couch, Mason pulls you into his arms for the first real cuddle you’ve had in weeks. You very contently lean into him, resting your head on his chest and humming in delight as Mason slides his hand under your hoodie and begins to gently stroke your lower back. It’s not with the intention of anything sexual, though you’re sure that will come later, it’s just an innate need to be as close to you as possible. 

It’s the most relaxed you’ve felt since he left your flat in London three weeks ago, your body and mind decompressing with every moment spent in his arms. 

A few hours pass, and you can feel yourself growing tired, but you’re enjoying Mason’s commentary on the Alpine rivalry far too much to interrupt and suggest you go to bed. Your yawns are betraying you, though, and Mason begins to gently run his hand through your hair.

“You ready for bed, sweetheart?” he asks softly, kissing your forehead. 

“It’s so early,” you murmur as you glance at the time on your phone, barely past 9PM, yet you can’t contain another small yawn which makes Mason chuckle. “Sorry, I guess I’m tired out from the week.”

“No worries, we have the whole weekend,” Mason smiles. “Honestly, I’m a bit worn out too. Wanna go upstairs and I’ll get us some water?”

You nod as he stands and helps you to your feet, pressing one more gentle kiss to your forehead before heading into the kitchen. You make your way up the stairs to his bedroom and head into his ensuite bathroom. 

It occurs to you as you’re flicking the light on that you forgot to grab your toiletry bag from your suitcase in his room, and you’re just about to turn back for it when something catches your eye. On one of the shelves above the toilet, there’s an array of products that wasn’t here last time you visited. More specifically, there’s a version of just about every hair and skincare product you use on a regular basis, and you really doubt that Mason has taken up doing hair treatments or using Drunk Elephant serums.

Maybe it shouldn’t mean as much to you as it does - he’s always been thoughtful, and you know the expense of buying all this is nothing to him - but for some reason, the simple gesture nearly brings you to tears. 

Mason appears in the doorway a moment later, smiling softly at you.

“You okay, love?” 

“When did you buy all this stuff?” you ask, gesturing to the shelf. 

“Oh, uh, a couple days after the last time I came to London,” Mason says casually. “I took pictures of everything in your bathroom to make sure I got the right stuff, I just wanted to make it easier for you when you visit.”

As you look into his soft, sincere gaze, your love for him feels more overwhelming than ever. 

Which means your guilt does, too. 

“Mase, I’m so sorry I haven’t been up to visit more lately,” you say, your voice unsteady. “I know you’ve been struggling, and I know you’ve been keeping a lot of it from me because I’m busy with uni, but you’re my priority and I should’ve-“

“Hey,” Mason says gently, interrupting you with a hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “Don’t ever apologize for focusing on your studies. I know how hard you’ve been working, and I’m so proud of you. You don’t need to worry about me, I’m gonna be fine.”

“It’s not fine,” you shake your head, tears now streaming down your face. “You’ve always been there for me, and now you’re in a new city and a new club and you’ve been dealing with injuries and I’m all the way across the country.”

“Y/N, we knew this would be hard, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t,” Mason says, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. “But it’s not your fault I moved clubs while you still had a degree to finish, or that I’ve had a tough season. Some things are out of our control.”

You know he’s right, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Hearing his sad, defeated voice on the phone after a disappointing medical assessment or bad game and not being able to hold him has been one of the hardest things you’ve ever done.

“I just worry about you being here all alone,” you say quietly. “I know you have your teammates and you spend a lot of time with Luke, but in London you had me and all your friends and your family was closer and - I just hate that I’m not with you.”

“You’re here right now,” Mason says, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment. “You dropped everything to come see me today, babe. You have no idea how much that meant.”

“I would do it every weekend if I could.”

“I know,” he says with a sad smile. “And I would leave all of this and spend my time helping you study and supporting you if I could, but this is our reality for a little while longer, angel.”

You sigh, nodding in agreement and staring into his big brown eyes that bring you so much comfort. 

“I’ve just missed you so much,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. 

His own arms circle your waist and tug you impossibly closer, his nose buried in your hair so he can breathe you in.

“I know, baby, I’ve missed you too,” he exhales. “So, so much.”

You hold him for a while longer, cherishing every brush of his hand against your back and every kiss he presses to your temple. You want to memorize the feeling of his touch, so when you’re back in your bed in London a few days from now you can close your eyes and try to imagine you’re still in his arms.

After a few minutes, you break apart to finish preparing for bed. You brush your teeth together then go through your skincare routine while Mason watches fondly, letting you put some moisturizer on him when you’re done with it. Then he strips down to just his boxers, teasing you lovingly when you obviously check him out, and passes you a comfy t-shirt from his drawer to change into. You make a mental note to fill up your suitcase with a few of his hoodies before you leave - the ones you have at home no longer smell like him. 

You climb into the bed together, noticing that the side you usually sleep on has all of its pillows in place and that the nightstand is almost empty except for the glass of water he set down for you. Like he’s still been leaving that space for you even when you’re not there to fill it. 

“C’mere,” Mason says immediately, tugging you into his chest. 

You relax against him, laying your head over his heartbeat and tracing his tattoos with your finger.

“Will you tell me how you’ve really been feeling lately?” you ask in a gentle voice. He immediately tenses, and you know he still doesn’t want to discuss it, but you’re not leaving Manchester without talking to him about this. “I saw the look on your face when I asked about the game tomorrow, babe. Please just talk to me.” 

“I don’t want to burden you with all this,” Mason says, refusing to meet your gaze. “I know how busy you are-“

“I told you, you’re my priority, Mase,” you insist. “And it’s actually more concerning when I don’t know what’s going on with you. If you talk to me, then maybe I can help.”

Mason sighs and moves into a more upright position, still holding your hand and playing with your fingers as a way of grounding himself as he gathers his thoughts. 

“I just never thought it would be like this, you know?” he mutters. “I thought that coming here would solve everything I was going through at Chelsea, but in a lot of ways it’s been even harder.”

You nod for him to continue, gently squeezing his hand.

“I thought when all the contract stuff was resolved and I was at a new club everything would be fine, but then it’s just been constant injuries and trying to adjust to a whole new life without actually being able to do the thing I love most,” he goes on, making your heart splinter even more. “Fifty-five million pounds and I don’t have a single goal to show for it.”

“You can’t help that you’ve been injured, baby,” you say softly, though you know he already knows that. “If you were in top form, you’d be scoring goals all over the place. I know it.”

He smiles slightly, always grateful for your neverending confidence in him. You’ve been his biggest fan from the moment you met, cheering him on through every high and low of his career. 

“Maybe, but I haven’t had the chance to try,” he mutters. “I’m just stuck here, being useless to the club and hours away from you. I basically upended our lives just to end up not playing for months.”

“Mase, if I’m not allowed to feel guilty for us being apart, neither are you,” you say firmly. “Coming to United was the right decision. It may not feel like it now, but I promise it will in the long run. And if not, we’ll find a new place for you to show everyone how amazing of a footballer you are. Even if it’s in a different city or another country, we’ll figure it out.”

“Babe, I feel bad enough that you’re moving away from London to be here next year, I’m not gonna ask you to move again,” Mason says, still fiddling with your fingers. “I have to make it work here.”

“And I’m sure you will as soon as you’re better,” you tell him, bringing your joined hands to your lips. “But if it ends up not being a good fit, I will happily follow you anywhere you want to go.”

“Even the States?” Mason jokes, making you roll your eyes and poke him the ribs. “It would be cool to play with Messi.”

“You are not going to the MLS any time soon,” you reprimand him. “But yes, I would go to Florida for you, babe. That is how much I love you.”

Mason laughs, moving your joined hands so it’s his turn to lay kisses on your knuckles.

“Wouldn’t be so bad. The weather’s good, and we could hang out with the Beckhams,” he says, smiling against your skin. “We could take our kids to the beach-“

“Oh, our kids, huh?” you remark, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, by the time I’m actually ready to play in the MLS…” 

“Alright, we’ll move to Florida with our hypothetical children in ten years,” you say decisively. “Then you can retire and stay home with them while I work.”

“I could take them to Disney World every day,” Mason sighs happily. “Oh, and the Harry Potter thing! Our kids would love that.” 

As much as you’re both joking, the thought of a time in the future when you’re settled with a family and not having to deal with all the separation and uncertainty makes your heart feel warm and fuzzy. You can’t wait to have a family with him someday. 

“In all seriousness, babe, you’ve already accomplished so much in your career and I know you’re going to do so many more amazing things,” you tell him, reaching out to cup his cheek. “And even more importantly, you are such an incredible person off the pitch.“

Mason blushes, leaning into your palm and holding it to his face so you don’t withdraw your touch. You know he struggles to take compliments sometimes, but you also know that this is something he needs to hear. 

“Which is why I refuse to listen to you call yourself useless when you do so much for your family, the community, for me - you make everything better, Mase,” you say softly. “That’s why are so loved. It’s why I fell in love with you, not because of your job.”

He takes a moment to soak up what you’re saying, still holding your hand to his face and pressing a few kisses to your palm. 

“You mean you’re not in it for the money?” he says after a minute, eliciting an eye roll from you. 

“It’s mostly for the money, but the abs don’t hurt either,” you tease, poking his stomach and making him laugh out loud for the first time in as long as you can remember. 

Mason pulls you into his arms again, leaning back and tucking you into his chest so your nose is pressed to his neck. You give him another tight squeeze, unable to get enough of his cuddles.

“Thank you so much, baby,” he mumbles into your hair as he slowly rubs his hand over your back. “For coming and for making me talk about this stuff. You always know exactly what I need.”

“Of course, my love,” you murmur. “Just promise me you’ll keep talking to me, okay? I don’t care how busy I am, I want to know what’s going on with you.”

“I promise,” Mason swears, squeezing your hand that rests over his heart. “And the same goes for you. I know how stressful this term has been, but I’m always here even if I can’t physically be there to help.”

“I know you are,” you smile. “And I know you’re the reason Ben or Woody brought me dinner or care packages before every midterm. They wouldn’t admit it, but I suspected they were under orders to check in on me.”

Mason chuckles. “Yeah, well, gotta send in the subs when I can’t do it myself.”

You hug him even tighter, throwing a leg over his and letting him shift you back into a more comfortable position for sleep. You’re yawning again, the exhaustion finally catching up to you now that the worry gnawing at your mind over Mason has been relieved.

“So, for tomorrow,” you say, your voice lower now that you’re both getting sleepy. “I think we should go to the game with Luke and Anouska, she already texted me and asked us to come over for dinner afterward. That way you and Luke can show your faces at Old Trafford and we can spend some time with them and the kids. Then, you and I can come back home and have a bit of a romantic night in.”

Mason doesn’t respond right away, and you give him a moment before you look up at him to see if something’s wrong. But when you do, you see only an adoring gaze and gentle smile on his face.

“Is that plan good with you?” you ask, “we don’t have to do any of it, I just thought-“

“No, no, it sounds perfect,” Mason cuts you off. “You’re perfect. I was just thinking about how much I love you.”

Your heart melts even more for him, if that’s possible, and you can’t resist leaning in to press another lingering kiss to his lips.

“I love you too,” you say, pressing a few more kisses to his cheeks and nose for good measure. “Now, let’s get a good night’s sleep so I can show you how much I love you in the morning, yeah?”

Mason nods with childlike enthusiasm, making you giggle again as you lay your head back on his chest. 

You can’t wait for the time to come that all of your nights end like this, curled up next to the love of your life, but for now, you’re grateful for this one.

No matter how many miles are between you, your heart is always gonna be wherever Mason is. He’s your home, whether you’re on opposite ends of the globe or in the same bed. 

You sleep better than you have in months.

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