#didn’t add it in there but i love how you could reasonably argue that he has the serial killer gene from Riverdale | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

i-like-writing-stuff · 6 months ago

Text

the other five [ five hargreeves x reader ]

request: Hello! This is my first time desperately requesting a fic because the new season is SO bad 😭 Can you write a fic where the reader finds out about everything that happened between Five & Lila and then she gets taken away by one of the Fives at the deli and promising her that he’ll treat her better than OG Five (You can also add a part where OG Five finds out about this and lives to regret it)

a/n: AU where everything in that trash season was the same, except when five made the first jump in s1 he made it in his 32 yr old body bc i will not have y/n pull a zach justice (lmao)

even if lila did 😭😭

anyways basically everyone is the same age

i like to think of the five that comforts y/n as the five that explained everything to five in the last episode because that one literally felt like the five we were supposed to get, the five that was there all the first three seasons

sorry i cant stop trashing this season you guys 😭 i’m just so disappointed

summary: after breaking up with five, you make up with… well, five

part two

“Leave me alone, Five!” You yelled in despair, pushing the man before you away, “Actually, first take me back home, you psycho! I have nothing to say to you!”

“Y/N, please, just hear me out!” Five tried to reason with you, as if anything he would say could make your heart glue itself back.

You were standing in the subway station after Five had blinked himself and you away from the family- or what was left of it, watching him at loss of words. You didn’t recognize the man before your eyes, as much as you tried. You didn’t even have time to gather all your thoughts since there was yet another impending apocalypse on its way, so your mind was completely all over the place.

Five Hargreeves was not the same Five Hargreeves you fell in love with all those years ago. He was not the same man who had stolen your heart and made you feel like you were the most precious person in the world. He wasn’t your partner anymore, he wasn’t your lover. Your boyfriend wasn’t there. You looked at this person and there was a stranger, acting as if he was the same who had hugged you, held your hand, kissed you all those many times. You were questioning everything about him now.

“Take me back!” You yelled again, ignoring his same pleas, curling your hand in a fist, “I’m this fucking close to making you ash!”

As your pure anger got the best of you, you were ready to let your powers take over for a second. Obviously you weren’t actually going to hurt him, no matter how much you wanted him to feel your pain, at least physically.

You met him six years ago, during the first time you tried to stop the apocalypse. You were also one of the extraordinary kids, but luckily enough, Reginald Hargreeves didn’t manage to adopt you- more so, purchase you. You only met Five not long after he managed to time travel back to his family in 2019 after spending all those decades by himself. Before you knew it, you were dragged into the Hargreeves family and your relationship soon after developed.

Your six year relationship that was so merry a few hours ago. Now it was crumbled, trashed.

What hurt was that it was six years only to you. Five managed to block himself seven years away from you, only in the presence of Lila.

“This is so fucking stupid,” You scoffed, fighting back the tears in your eyes, “It’s fucking over! Do you want me to spell it out for you?!”

“I want you to listen!” Five didn’t give up on arguing, “I thought I’d never see you again!”

“You didn’t want to see me again!” You screamed, wailing your hands in the air, “Fucking save it- It’s over! I don’t want to ever see you again if we survive this apocalypse! You ruined our relationship, you ruined your brother’s marriage, family! For fucking Lila!”

You hated him absolutely. The mere thought of his infidelity, of the nerve to act as if he still loved you, it was all despicable.

You grew to love all of your boyfriend’s siblings, and also your nieces and nephews, even if you and Five were not yet married. You planned to be a part of the family officially, but still wanted to focus on your careers, you wanted to adjust yourself to your old life, back to your origins.

“Y/N, please!” He tried to step, towards you, but you started stepping away.

Thoughtlessly, because of all your anger, you just walked towards the first train approaching you, fully intending to be away from him at whatever cost.

“If you don’t want to take me back, I’ll fucking find my own way!” You hopped onto the train, watching as he tried to catch up with you.

But he was too late.

In hindsight, maybe it was not the smartest idea, but you were just so devastated nothing made sense to you anymore. You spent the past six years thinking that you are set for the rest of your life, now that the world wasn’t ending anymore. You reconnected with your family, you built a career for yourself and were living happily with Five, you had literally just finished settling yourself in the new house you bought together. You couldn’t understand how he could do this to you.

You couldn’t understand how Lila could betray your friendship either, especially Diego and their kids.

You tried to make it make sense, be reasonable- it was only a few hours to you, but they were lost in this subway system for seven years.

But then again, Five was lost in the future 45 years by himself and he didn’t give up on trying to return to his family once.

Now he did, he gave up on trying to return to you.

That’s definitely another aspect that stung.

“Fucking piece of shit,” You mumbled, as the train approached its first station, “How do I fucking get out of here?”

You stumbled out of the sub, taking in your surroundings. It was yet another crumbled down station, but if you were to be at least a tiny bit fair, it was maybe a bit better kept. You looked around curiously, trying to figure out where to go from now on. Your fire-based superpowers were totally useless in this situation, so you hated to admit that you were in a bit of a pickle.

You rolled your eyes, as Five rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks, watching you with widened eyes.

“You again?” You sighed angrily, “Take me back or get out of my sight, Five.”

Five raised his brows, putting his hands in his pockets curiously. He didn’t say a word yet, as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He slowly stepped towards you, not taking his eyes off you once. For a split second, you stopped as well, sending that something was up.

You took in his features, trying to make sense of what was going on, realizing that he didn’t have a coat on him. He was wearing the exact three piece suit an black tie, he was wearing the same silver watch on his left hand, but he didn’t have his coat on.

“Y/N,” He smiled, stopping in front of you, “I never thought I’d see you again, more so here.”

“What the fuck is going on?” You calmly asked, over-analyzing the man before you.

His smile didn’t drop. It was a genuine one, a smile you hadn’t seen in a while. Things between you and Five were okay a few hours ago, but he hadn’t watched you with this look since you first met. His eyes were sincere, taking in every single feature of yours, traveling all over your body.

“I take it your Five danced the devil’s tango with Lila,” He sighed deeply, raising a hand to gently brush away your tears.

When did you even start crying?

Your mind was scrambled all over the place, but at that exact moment you couldn’t say another word. You just melted into his touch, feeling warmth. It really hadn’t been that long since Five touched you, but this touch felt different. His hand rested on your cheek, as his thumb caressed you lightly. His touch was so intoxicatingly sweet, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m so sorry I’m a literal shitface in some other timelines,” He lightly shook his head, “I’m so sorry.”

“What is going on?” You asked once again, calmer this time.

For whatever reason, you relaxed in an instant. You couldn’t tell if it was because of his gentle touch or simply his presence. Ironic, since just ten minutes ago you were ready to set him on fire.

“Come with me, my love,” Five said, grabbing your hand in his, “I’ll explain everything.”

You didn’t fight his touch, locking your fingers with his. None of you said a word, as you watched you hands fit so perfectly in one another. How could your relationship be over when you were so good together?

You followed Five through the subway station, rounding the same corner he appeared from. You watched as he turned his head to give you a reassuring smile, lightly squeezing your hand in comfort.

After a few more steps and going down a couple of stairs, you widened your eyes seeing a literal deli tucked away in this godforsaken out of order subway system. The headlights above the front entrance were lit up, writing Max’s Delicatessen. You saw inside a huddle of people as you entered, gathering everyone’s attention.

When they all turned to look at you, you literally couldn’t tell whether you or the huddle of people was more shocked.

They were all Fives.

There was music playing inside, as the deli was full of different versions of your boyfriend, whether they were customers sitting at the tables, drinking coffee or having a meal, reading the newspaper or having a chat. There were also other Fives working around, waiting tables or cooking in the back.

Nonetheless, they all stopped to look at you.

“Yeah, yeah, Y/N is here, carry on, you guys,” The Five that was holding your hand waved the others off with his free hand, “She needs a moment, stop being creeps.”

“I can’t tell if this is a dream come true or my worst nightmare,” You said, looking around the deli, as Five guided you towards an empty booth.

You sat down as the other picked up again whatever they were doing, still watching you with the corner of their eyes. Five took a seat in front of you, still holding onto your hand on top of the table, using his other hand to rub small circles on your skin.

“I am not the Five that dragged you here, in case you didn’t tell yet,” Five managed to say, “But I’m pretty sure that you did, since I know you’re smarter than he gives you credit for.”

“He did mention that this subway system is the knot to multiple timelines,” You sighed, as Waiter Five set down two cups of steaming coffee on the table.

You watched him curiously, as he looked yet again exactly like Five, wearing just a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, with a black tie, pantsuit pants and a server apron around the waist. He smiled at you warmly, setting down two small packs of sugar and a creamer.

“I’m sorry, my love, we don’t have any Irish Capuccinos around here, since you’re the first Y/N to set foot in here,” He apologetically smiled, “I can only get you a shot of whiskey, if you’d like.”

Of course they all knew your favorite coffee.

“Make it a bottle,” You said, cracking a smile for the first time, causing him to chuckle, before walking away to attend to your order.

“I can’t begin to explain how much I missed your smile, darling,” The Five before you said, as you turned back to him, “The Handler got to the Y/N in my timeline,” He added, as sadness took over his eyes, “I missed you so much.”

“I can’t understand how you’re the same Five that fell in love with Lila,” You said, before quickly adding, “I mean- technically, you’re not, but still.”

“Everyone around here is a different version of me, from a different timeline,” He said, “I’m one of the many that didn’t go down that road.”

“Thank you, I guess,” You laughed, making him smile again.

What a sweet smile it was.

“When I lost you, I was a total wreck,” He confessed, as you couldn’t help but place your other hand on top of his, “I love you so much, Y/N, I could never hurt you like that no matter what. This is all such a fucked up turn of events, but when I saw you coming out of that train, my mind froze.”

“I love you too, Five,” You said, “But I need to wrap my head around what is going on- Everything is insane, I mean I’m right now in the middle of yet another apocalypse, I just found out that you love Lila and there’s just so fucking many of you.”

“I know, my love, I know,” Five nodded, “I wouldn’t dare to ask you accept everything so fast, I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“Can you just… hold me?” You asked, watching as he didn’t waste another second and got up to slide ne t yo you in the booth.

Wrapping one arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest, he used his other one to caress your hair. You nuzzled your face into his shirt, taking in his scent, as you felt a wave of certitude wash over you. Five held you tightly into his arms, embracing you after years of your absence. He was grateful to have you in his arms once again.

And he was not about to let go anytime soon.

“I’ll always hold you, my love,” Five muttered, peppering small kisses in your hair.

The Five from your timeline watched from behind the window as you took comfort in his arms, but not exactly his arms.

This was only the beginning of his lifelong regret.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves imagines #number five x reader #the umbrella academy season 4 #the umbrella academy imagines #tua x reader #tua season 4 #tua netflix

2K notes · View notes

djljpanda · 1 year ago

Text

Lucifer Morningstar X Fallen Exorcist Reader

Ever since his split from Lilith Lucifer has been a reck feeling like no one can love him, need him, or understand him again

You have been an exorcist for a couple of thousand years now being one of the best exorcists Heaven could ever ask for

But deep down you always felt bad for those you had killed feeling like yes Hell is for those who have done wrong but what about those who did the wrong things for the right reasons

So on the next extermination day you tried to run away from it all but when Adam found out he took it upon himself to kill you

You were able to get away before Adam could finish you off but nothing could prepare you for meeting Lucifer himself

For some reason Lucifer took you in and helped you out and yes you did come out to him about you being a “fallen angel” and your ideals on heaven, earth, and hell

Lucifer just sat there and listened and for the first time since Lilith someone understood him

Now at first you two became roommates in a way, mostly helping him out with his work, giving him duck ideas, being his bodyguard and secretary, and you did try to push him into talking to Charlie more but you understood on why he couldn’t do it himself

You did face palm as when he called her all he did was tell her to have that meeting with Adam, at least it’s a start

Charlie dose know of you but saw you more as her fathers secretary or his best friend, like an aunt, she is happy how you think there is a way to get sinners in to heaven and how you told her if she ever needs help or to talk to someone you are just quick call

Lilith dose know of you and you may have never seen her face to face she is happy someone is keeping her ex happy

Now if you ever get together it would be the best for the both of you cause I’m sure you would want to confess first but with the thoughts of you killing his people and Lilith, it just made you hesitant but with a simple duck jester (making a duck quack an “I love you”) Lucifer confessed his feelings to you

Charlie I think would be happy for her dad to have found someone and yes at first she did see you as her aunt but she is happy to call you her step parent sand she isn’t afraid of telling everyone that either

That’s one of the major reason on why Lucifer likes you, his daughter loves you like a parental figure

This Lucifer is just a sad boy so if you just sit there and cuddle him he would love you forever and if add words of praise he is just melting

Definitely will vent to you cause he is that comfortable around you and he is happy that you feel the same way when you vent

You always support his duck creations and yes late nights would consist of you two role playing with the ducks, when you two started dating he made three duck versions of you, him, and Charlie all matching clothes sitting next to each other, this man had a whole collection of duck versions of you and he was embarrassed when you found out but you called it cute

When extermination day hits he could see how tense you get and when you told him on what happened before he found you he couldn’t help but hate Adam more and so every Extermination day Lucifer would hold your hand and comfort you may even play a little music and it just grew more loving when you two started dating

You do help out with Lu Lu World as it’s one of Lucifer’s passion projects and no one could believe how upset you were when Mammon created Loo Loo land, you almost put your exterminator skills to use but Lucifer stopped you and let Mammon have his way cause he didn’t want to argue with Mammon so you just had to let it go

You both do play music together as when you were both angels all you did was play music, duets and you can’t tell me you, Lucifer, and Charlie didn’t sing together once

You remember seeing Lucifer’s wings for the first time and how amazed you were as you kept complementing him and that just made his face all red and what made you stop was when he commented o how your wings could have been more pretty then his, you just smile at him

Now here you two have more of a bodyguard/ secretary and famous person kind of relationship even though he may not need it he likes keeping you around and that just help made his feelings grow for you

5K notes · View notes

lechrts · 2 months ago

Text

Dinner’s Ready. ✷ Lando Norris

Pairing: Lando Norris x Bestfriend!reader

Summary: Helping your bestfriend learn how to cook because his out of date freezer meals were a bit concerning.

Word Count: 2.1k

Disclaimer/s: Fluff fluff fluffff!! :3

Vera’s Voice! i liked this one tbh :3 wrote it during my lunch break today!!! hope u enjoy!!!

“Lando, you cannot be serious.”

“I am serious,” He replied, leaning casually against the counter as you stared at the horror show that was his freezer. “What’s the big deal?”

You turned slowly, holding up a frostbitten container of… something? You squinted at the label. Lasagna? Or… meatloaf? The date scribbled on top was from months ago. Possibly before summer.

“The big deal, you idiot, is that I’m pretty sure this thing is one microwave cycle away from mutating.” You held the container of mystery meat in your hand as you felt a gag creeping forward but you choked it down.

Lando scoffed with a grin, the dimpled, infuriating kind, like this was all a joke to him. “Survival of the fittest.” He shrugged.

“This is not funny!” You groaned, dramatically shoving the container into his arms like you’d caught him red-handed.

“You’re going to give yourself food poisoning one day. Like I’m honestly surprised you haven’t died already.”

“I’m built different.” He argued.

“You’re built stupid.”

He laughed loudly, unbothered by your scolding. “Okay, Mum, what do you want me to do?”

“You’re lucky I'm even here,” You shot back, spinning around to grab your grocery bag like some kind of control freak. “You’re about to learn how to cook a proper meal for once in your life!” A pause.

“God, this is what the rich does to people.” You muttered to yourself.

Lando groaned like you’d told him he had to run ten miles uphill. “Why do I feel like this is going to end badly?”

“Because you’re terrible at following instructions,” You teased, already digging out the flour, eggs, and the rest of your supplies.

He leaned over the counter to peek. “Wait. Are we making pasta?”

“Of course.”

“Why would we do that when the box version is right there? In the cupboard, I might add.”

You turned to him, jaw practically on the floor because he even suggested such a thing. “I’m gonna pretend you didn't just say that.”

“What's wrong with it?!” He scoffed.

“Because it won’t be made with love! And you, Lando Norris, need more love in your diet.”

Lando blinked, then snorted. “That’s the corniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Very appropriate since you’re the corniest person I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.” You quickly shot back.

His jaw fell. A hand to his chest. “You wound me.”

“Good.”

And soon enough, the two of you got to work and, somewhere along the way, the line between “teaching” and “flirting” blurred, though neither of you dared to point it out.

Standing shoulder to shoulder at the counter, the space between you shrank with every quiet moment. You guided his hands as he clumsily kneaded the dough, your fingers brushing his more often than necessary.

The air grew heavy with something unspoken, the sound of flour dusting the counter and soft laughter filling the silence. When you looked up to correct him, his gaze lingered longer than it should have, and suddenly the lesson felt like an excuse to stay close, to touch without reason, and to hide the butterflies neither of you could ignore.

“Like this,” You said softly, placing your fingers over his to press into the floury mixture.

“I am doing it like that,” He complained.

“No, you’re manhandling it.”

“It’s dough!” He laughed, twisting to look at you, his face unfairly close.

“Yeah, and it’s not going to trust you if you’re aggressive.”

Lando tilted his head, the grin creeping back. “Not going to trust me?”

You bit your lip, fighting back a smile. “I don’t make the rules.”

“Clearly you do,” He teased, though he didn’t pull his hands away from yours. You suddenly became very aware of the warmth of his skin beneath your palms, the way his shoulder brushed against yours as you leaned closer.

Your gaze flickered up, and that’s when you realized he was already watching you.

“What?” You asked softly.

“Nothing.” Lando’s voice dipped, quieter than before. His eyes were still on yours, unreadable but warm—too warm.

You swallowed hard, pulling back just a little too quickly. “You’re hopeless,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as you turned back to the dough.

Lando didn’t argue. He just smiled, like he knew something you didn’t.

Moving onto the sauce now at the stove, the pasta dough had been cut sloppily into fettuccine, now boiling on another burner. The kitchen looked like the scene of a food fight. Flour dusted the counters, your shirt, his hair—though Lando swore you’d put it there on purpose.

You were focused on stirring the sauce when he came up beside you, far too close for comfort. You could feel him there before you saw him: the shift of the air, the way the space seemed to shrink around him.

“Need something?” You asked suspiciously, refusing to look at him.

“I’m just watching,” He said, voice light but laced with something unreadable.

“You’re hovering.”

“I’m learning.”

“You’re distracting,” You muttered, stirring the sauce a little harder than necessary.

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Distracting, hm?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” You shot back, rolling your eyes.

When you finally glanced up at him, Lando was leaning against the counter with that insufferably lazy grin of his, arms folded, hair still tousled from where you’d flicked flour at him earlier. He looked at ease—too at ease.

“What?” you asked again, narrowing your eyes.

“You’ve got…” He gestured vaguely toward your face. “Something there.”

“Where?”

“Your cheek.”

You frowned, swiping at your face with the back of your hand.

Lando didn’t move, but the smile tugging at his lips grew. “Missed it.”

“Are you messing with me?”

“Would I ever?”

“Always.” You said flatly, but before you could react, he leaned in—just enough to make your heart catch. His thumb brushed across your cheek, slow and deliberate, the contact feather-light but enough to make your skin tingle where he touched.

It wasn’t fair how something so small could make your breath falter. Your brain felt like it short-circuited, stuck on the warmth of his hand and how close his face was to yours now.

“There,” he murmured softly.

You swallowed hard, eyes locked on his as his hand lingered—his thumb now gently tracing the line of your jaw.

Your heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else.

“Stop looking at me like that,” You said, barely above a whisper. “You've been doing it all evening.”

“Like what?” Lando’s voice dropped to match yours, quiet but steady. His eyes never left you, his gaze softer now, something unspoken lingering in the space between you.

“Like you’re about to kiss me.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but you saw the shift in his expression. His smile faded—just slightly—as his thumb paused at the curve of your jaw.

“…Would that be such a bad thing?”

Your stomach flipped violently, and you felt rooted to the spot.

Every thought in your head went quiet except for the sound of your pulse thudding in your ears. Lando’s eyes searched yours, still giving you time to say no—to pull away—but you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Slowly, achingly slowly, he leaned in.

Your breath hitched as the space between you shrank to nothing. He hesitated for just a second, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. Close enough to memorize the exact color of his eyes and count the faint freckles across his nose.

And then his lips met yours.

Softly. Gently.

The kiss was tentative, like he was testing the waters, waiting for you to pull back—but you didn’t. The butterflies swarmed in your stomach, your heart a mess of frantic flutters as you leaned into him, your hands lifting to clutch the fabric of his t-shirt like you needed to hold on to something solid.

Lando’s other hand found your waist, warm and steady, anchoring you as he kissed you again—deeper this time, but still careful. His lips moved against yours with the kind of softness that made your chest ache, like he was memorizing the moment, like he didn’t want to rush it.

You could’ve stayed there forever, standing in his flour-dusted kitchen with the sauce bubbling behind you and the rest of the world falling away.

The kitchen was still for a moment—too still. Your lips tingled from the kiss, the air between you and Lando thick with something unspoken but undeniable.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe properly. Your heart was still racing in a way that had nothing to do with the pasta you were supposed to be making.

Lando’s forehead rested gently against yours, but his presence, his warmth, was too close, making everything feel so very real in a way you weren’t sure how to process.

Then, slowly, with the faintest chuckle in his voice, he pulled away—just enough to look at you, but not enough to break the contact completely.

He was standing behind you now, just a hair’s breath away, his hands slowly finding their way around your waist again, pulling you against him in a soft but secure hug. You froze as his arms wrapped around your body, his chest pressed lightly against your back.

You could feel the steady beat of his heart, feel the warmth radiating from his body into yours. His chin nestled just above your shoulder, his breath warm against the side of your neck.

“Lando…” You mumbled, the words almost slipping from you without thought, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Mmm?” He didn’t move. His voice was low, soft—a stark contrast to the playful teasing from earlier. “You okay?”

You swallowed hard, your face growing warm from the closeness. “Think I’m having trouble breathing, if I’m honest.”

His lips brushed the back of your neck, a soft, teasing kiss that sent an electric shiver down your spine. “Not surprising,” He murmured, his tone now laced with a playful cocky edge. “I do have that effect on people.”

“Oh, do you now?” You replied, trying to sound sarcastic, but your voice betrayed you—weak and breathless.

“Definitely,” He said with a chuckle, squeezing you tighter, and you could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “I mean, I’m not just a great driver, you know. I’m also pretty good at making hearts race.”

You let out a soft groan, hands gripping the counter for balance as you felt your heart actually race. “You are so cringe, it hurts.”

He grinned against your shoulder, his voice lowering. “Am I? I was starting to think you liked me.”

You could feel the heat creeping up your neck, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “I don’t,” you muttered, though you weren’t entirely sure if you believed it.

Lando leaned in a little closer, his lips brushing lightly against the side of your neck. “Really?”

You couldn't help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Think you and I already know the answer.”

The air between you both hung heavy with the playful tension, but just as you thought it was about to become too much, Lando pulled back slightly, his arms still around you as the sauce seemed to be finished.

“Come on, dinner’s ready.”

like, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated ^_^ !!

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox

587 notes · View notes

marsdql · 2 months ago

Text

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ p. childhood boyfriend!sim jaeyun ⤫ 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳﹒wc: 9.2к﹒g. romantic drama, emotional romance, angst, slowburn, light fluff﹒cw. emotional distress, ghosting and abandonment, suidical thoughts, mental health struggles, manipulation, past trauma, reconciliation and healing, triggers of emotional abuse, toxicity, high levels of angst and emotional intensity, mild references to past toxic relationships. @wheretheheckis-ssaki

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ synopsis ﹒During middle school, you and a boy in your friend’s class—named Sim Jaeyun—were inseparable, you both had your own friendg roup, he was a popular guy on the soccer team while you were a normal girl, yet would talk to each other on the phone everyday the second the bell rang. You both eventually fell for each other but had to keep your relationship private due to drama with girls. A year later—after everyone found out about you guys, he unexpectedly distanced—then disappeared. 10 years later, when you move to France for a few weeks due to a project in uni, you and Jake cross paths once again. (NOT PROOFREAD)

Sim Jaeyun, he was the best boyfriend I could ever think of having, he was my first love, definitely. It started in the seventh grade, when he was in class 7G—the same class as my friends. I remember when my bestfriend first told me about how he’d catch people playing Roblox in class and signal it to the entire class—that’s when I started teasing him—he was my best friends locker buddy, so I’d see him everyday.

Everytime id see him—when he would be arguing about something stupid with his classmates, I’ll snarl at him, “shut up Jake! Go play your Roblox!”. For some odd reason, he was REALLY talkative, but the second I’d say that, he’d just shut up. He’d smile at me and continue packing his things to get to the bus, forgetting about the entire conversation he had with the people next to him.

Until one day, another normal day of me telling him the same line, he actually responded this time. ‘How about you go play Roblox, huh?’ He said. ‘Okay, I will then, make sure you join me in jayjay simulator!!!’ I replied—I don’t know why I said “jayjay”, it just came out—soon enough, that would be the name all the girls would start calling him—because of me. As I walked away with my bestfriend—heading to the bus, I whispered to her, “hey, you know, Jake is kinda cute.”

— rest below cut ! —

Later that day, I decided to add him on my phone, message him—tease him a little bit more, he was funny—his reactions. He wasn’t like other boys, when you’d argue with him, he’d do it in a goofy way, he wouldn’t say actual harmful stuff—not to me Atleast.

- Jake: who is this?

- You: You didn’t join me in jayjay simulator. :(

- Jake: Hehe, yes I did!!!

He was so cute, even his messages were adorable. Whenever I’d playfully roleplay and fake random situations, people would call me childish, but with him, he’d play along, fully convincing eachother that everything we said was real.

I was determined to talk to this guy everyday, I’d find a random topic that has been spreading around our grade so that everyday, after school, I’d message him, using it as an excuse to talk to him. And it worked! I noticed that he’d even find some stuff too, so that he could message me. Once, he asked me for anime recommendations even though everyone knows him and his friendgroup hated anime, they made fun of it—except for blue lock of course—since it’s football related.

During my pe class, his friends that were in my class were destroying me in badminton—they weren’t that good…..but I just sucked at the sport! He peeked in, hoping to waste time from his class, and I screamed “Jake!!! Help me, your friends are bullying me…”

he was such a nice person to me, I’d tease him and say that he was rude in order to keep talking to him—in my mind, if I was accusing him of something, it’d be another reason for him to keep responding to me— and of course, it worked, I’m just a genius.

We were genuinely so funny, we both wanted to talk to eachother whenever we had the chance, but didn’t know how. Our biggest highlight was when we’d send random emojis to eachother for 4 hours straight just because we had no conversation anymore.

On February 14th, at the valentines dance, we were pressured to hug by the crowd. At this point, I had the biggest crush on him but nobody knew. Since he was popular and quiet talk compared to the other boys(puberty hit him the earliest), most of my friends fancied him. I was stuck, how could I tell my friends that I liked him first, when I never told them? Anyway, we didn’t hug, we’re both so awkward and to be honest, I’m glad we didn’t, it’s too cringe hugging like that!

When we got home, he messaged me, telling me he’s sorry he didn’t hug me because….. his teacher was watching and didn’t want him to tell his parents??? What a stupid excuse… That’s not the point, Y/n get back into the topic! I don’t remember how we got to the conversation but we were talking about crushes, who we liked. I kid you not, it took us 3 hours to confess, and it was so obvious we were saying we liked each other! We kept asking each other for hints, obvious ones. But eventually, we both said each others name at the same time. I remember so vividly that I was playing cards with my brother, unable to focus because of the joy I was feeling after reading my name pop up.

Now that I look back at it, I realize how mature we were for our age, even though we confessed, we didn’t do anything about it, we didn’t start dating or anything—just got really awkward, stopped talking in real life after that…

Fast forward the summer of 7th grade, when we got together July 2nd at 2am. To be honest, it wasn’t the way I expected it to be.

A girl from my grade messaged me:

- g/n: Hey! You’re close to Jake, right?

- You: Hi g/n! And yeah, I am, why?

- g/n: well… me and him have been messaging for 2 weeks now and I kinda like him. I was hoping you’d help me?

I beg your pardon? Me? Help you? I don’t even know this girl, all I knew was that she was some popular girl in a big friendgroup. That friendgroup was always around jake’s, they craved their attention so much—it disgusted me. But, it’s not like he’s my boyfriend, who am I to say no, maybe he likes her.

I helped her that entire night—telling her to text him certain things that only I knew he’d enjoy. They started doing the same thing me and him did on Valentine’s Day, guessing each other’s crushes, it took me aback, I self sabotaged myself—for no reason at all. During all of it, he was messaging me at the same time, acting a sweet to me. For no reason at all, he sent me this out of context message, “Y/n, I enjoy messaging you a lot.” Seconds later,

- g/n: He was taking too long to tell me his crush so I just told him I like him and asked if he wants to get together!

What? Did I just read that right… I acted as if I didn’t see her message and went to respond to jake’s instead. “Oh really?” I questioned him, my heart was beating so fast at this point, I didn’t know what was going to happen, it has been months and we’re still in a talking stage, surely he wouldn’t get with a girl he started talking to just 2 weeks ago, right? That’s what I thought until another message popped up.

- g/n: GIRL OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU HE JUST SAID YES OMGOMG.

the second she said that, he responded to me, “yeah, I really do, you’re my favourite person to talk to.” Oh heck no. I’m hysterically sobbing—what the hell?

Okay I can’t do this deep detail stuff, fast forward again—he told me and the girl goodnight—well actually, he only told the girl goodnight, I’m the one who told him goodnight before he could say anything else because I was so close to blocking him. But, I couldn’t hold it in, I had to confront him.

- You: Jake, I know you’re not asleep, respond

- Jake: What’s up?

- You: Tell me now, who’s your crush?

- Jake: you already know who

- You: no I don’t, who is it

- Jake: you

- You: then why did you just ask out g/n?

- Jake: who told you

- You: it doesn’t matter who told me, answer me.

- Jake: I promise you I’ll tell you when you tell me who told you

I tried so hard to keep my composure, but I told him everything. Then, I asked him politely, “who do you want? Me or g/n?” no intention in making him choose between us, I genuinely wanted to know because I didn’t want to be lead on if he liked g/n—and I didn’t want g/n to be lead on in this relationship if he liked me. I never made him choose between us, I simply asked him who he liked because he just agreed to dating a girl 2 hours ago and is now telling me he likes me, anyone in my situation would’ve done that, right?

- Jake: you I pick you

- Jake: I want you

- Jake: I’m so sorry I was just desperate for someone and I thought you liked one of my friends at this point, I was so desperate I just agreed to her.

We got together right after he broke up with her the following morning—maybe it was kind of stupid of us to do it so soon, but we were both waiting in eachother since the day we confessed all those months ago, it was summer, everything felt right, we had a huge conversation that night and talked about eachother and all our hidden secrets til 4am. In that conversation, we also made it clear that we would keep our relationship private because he had friends who liked me and I also had multiple who liked him.

Riingg ! — back into reality.

8:00am, you get up, brush your teeth, and your hair, wear a basic outfit you barely looked at before picking, and walk to the train station—waiting a few minutes for it to arrive.

There goes your alarm, woah, you just experienced your entire love story with Jake again, in a dream—you almost thought it was real. You're now 22, can’t believe that all happend 10 years ago. It feels as if it happend yesterday. Although, a lot has changed since then, You're not the same as before, you arent in middle school, or high school at all—but rather studying medicine in one of your dream universities. Your personality has changed a lot, the way you act has matured a lot aswell—you now know that you don’t need to be a brat in order to get people’s attention, hah…

Although your life has changed, the place to where your mind wanders hasn’t. You still remember the time you and Jake risked a day to go on a field trip downtown to a haunted house in the 8th grade—right after summer. You remember all the stares you got as you walked together—not even holding hands or anything, just simply walking. Everyone would ship you guys together—yet got so mad when they suspected that you two were dating.

A few days—not even—a few hours after the field trip, pictures of me and him were spreader everywhere. I was officially done for. My friends had left me a little before it all, I was already dealing with that loss—and now, I had to deal with the entire population of girls in my grade hating on me—simply for hanging out with a friend everyone knew I was close to.

I just didn’t get it. Everyone would ship us, everyone knew we were close, we didn’t even kiss—or hold hands—or hug—or anything! Why did everyone get so mad? They didn’t know or get the confirmation that we were dating—so why did I get ignored by everyone so secretively? Nobody talked to me about it, rumours spread about me and only me—about Jake—just me. The worse thing was, I didn’t have a say in anything. Nobody could say anything to my face, it was all behind my back, nobody dared to say anything while I was around, I never found out what they said—only small details of my last remaining friends that would overhear small stuff from crowds.

That’s basically how my entire 8th grade was like. I know some people would see it as a compliment that nobody could say anything to my friend—not even humiliate or bully me for it, but I felt as if it was the biggest curse ever. I never had a chance to speak about it, talk my feelings.

The worse part is—Jake said it was going to be okay, he didn’t care about what people thought about us. But just a month after the entire incident—he ghosted me for two weeks, came back to say sorry then did it again for two weeks. Then, it became a month and came back later to talk about how he was moving to France at the end of the year. I knew about it already, I was the only person he told, but it felt so much wise because he was talking about it during a period where he was just constantly ghosting me.

It was soon going to be his birthday so I decided to send him a huge paragraph:

I’ve deleted every single person off my Snapchat to make sure we keep that “you and Jake have been each other's number one best friend for 2 months!” Even though it’s been almost a year since we had it, you know it only changes from 2 weeks, 2 months and two years. Yet still, you lost it. So so busy of you to lose that feature, texting someone else. I saw you online for a good 3 hours. How are you busy?

I said I don’t mind if you’re busy because we each have our own lives, but you’re completely ghosting me.

I can’t take a single apology from you anymore it makes me even more angry and frustrated I hate how much you take advantage of me because you know I’ll be the first to say “it’s alright” or “don’t think about it too much, I forgive you” and completely forget about every single breakdown I’ve had because of you.

I hate all of your sorry messages I hate the way I felt so happy each time you apologize even though you never changed, I hate when I begged you to stop calling you a bad boyfriend even though you are not only a bad boyfriend but the worst newest person that entered my life, I hate how much I can’t stop loving you despite all of the pain and hatred I’m getting from you, I hate how much I miss the times you were actually excited to text me, I hate it when I actually believed that you’d love me forever, I hate it when we talked about our future together and how we both prayed to be soulmates, I hate how you’re always the first thing that comes to mind when I wake up, do something, cry, laugh, lay down, work, and every single other thing I do in my life. I hate how much I love you more than you love me and I hate even more how much I’m aware of it. I hate the night you killed me inside and still found a way to make me happy in the end with your tricks. I hate how happy you look in real life when I see you with your friends knowing I have one friend and always have to plan ahead if she’s not here, how I have problems with everyone and even that current friend I’m not happy around, compared to you and your amazing friend group where everyone loves you and you love them.

I hate how you still manage to have a smile on your face even when we’re not texting. I don’t understand how much I hate you right now but it’s not hate as in how much I hate my old friends, it’s a hate of sadness and of “how could you do this to me” hate. I hate you so much I can’t get rid of you. I love you too much and that’s why I hate you. I hope to one day look back at my 8th grade and hopefully say that all this pain was all worth it in the end because I’ve ruined my childhood so much 7-8th grade because of you.

Tomorrow January 12 2024 will be the day me and you met last year. We’ve known each other for a year. Why does it feel like I’ve known you my whole life and I’ve felt miserable since birth? I can't do this anymore.

I wish I could be as happy as you when you’re with your friends, I wish I could be as careless as you, I wish I could go months without texting their partner just like you, I wish I didn’t need to worry if someone’s going to leave me or not, I wish I could have peace and calmness in my life, I wish I had friends I actually enjoyed, I wish I didn’t need to feel so lonely all the time, I wish I didn’t have to look down whenever I see you in the hallways so that I don’t embarrass myself, I wish I wasn’t always so angry, I wish I didn’t care so much about everything, I wish I wasn’t sensitive, I wish I was crying right now, I wish I could leave and forget everyone I met last and this year including you, I wish I didn’t start talking to you, I wish I was your first and only option, I wish I didn’t think of you everytime a song came up, I wish I didn’t think of you when I see something that I know you like, I wish I could find an end to all the things that come up to mind that don’t stop flowing when I’m writting these, I wish I didn’t waste all that money on you, I wish that Snapstreak I paid back for because you lost it, wasn’t lost again because you just didn’t feel like doing it anymore, I wish I didn’t cry to sad songs because they remind me of you, I wish I didn’t see myself in every mentally unstable situation, I wish I could go to sleep peacefully, I wish you were there when I needed you most, I wish you felt the way I felt, I wish you experienced the stuff I went through, I wish you could understand how I feel, I wish you would listen to me for once, I wish you’d understand the things I feel, I wish you knew how much I’m hurting, I wish I could tell someone about all my problems without feeling guilty afterwards, I wish I could shut my mouth up and stop talking so much especially when nobody enjoys it, I wish you’d snap-text me the way we used to, I wish you’d randomly tell me how much you love me like before, i wish you would beg me for forgiveness when you’d forget to reply for like 5 mins unlike how you leave me on delivered on purpose for 2 days now, I wish you felt grateful for me still being here, I wish I could move places and forget everything, I wish my sins weren’t all on my back even though I’m trying to move on, i wish I could move on from you, I wish I could forget about you the way you so easily forgot about me, I wish I could go to sleep without crying, I wish I could stop listening to my thoughts, I wish everyone would like me like you, I wish you’d understand everything and everyone I lost because I was with you, I wish you’d see how much people hate me because I’m with you and they were jealous, I wish you realize that i didn't care about how I have no friends because I knew I’d be able to talk to u when I get back home, that’s why I’m hurting so much now.

I wish you could ignore the girls that try to hit you up, just like how I do with the boys that simply want to be my friend, I wish you understood how stupidly I miss you, I wish you could treat me how I wish a man could treat me, I wish you’d never leave to France, I wish you never find a new person in France, I wish you’d understand how I can’t live without you anymore and it’s all your fault, I wish you’d see and understand that I feel so worried because I don’t want to lose you, I wish you’d comprehend that I wouldn’t get jealous for no reason and that I was overprotective but rather that you’re my first love and I’m scared of losing you, I wish you’d understand how much I try to talk to you and be around you, I wish you know and see how I finish all my work early or do it later just to try and be able to talk to you as much as I can, I wish you’d know how I’m writing all of this right now instead of revising for my test tomorrow. I wish I wouldn’t feel so tired after crying about you for just a few minutes, I wish my eyes weren’t always heavy because of you and crying because of you, I wish I could stop loving you forever.

Happy birthday Jake! Whenever I write ur name it always pops up as “JAKEEE” and it might sound stupid but I smile everytime I see it. I’m writing this at 11:19pm, on a day where you’re ghosting me, again for the second time. I don’t know what’s the reason this time, knowing you couldn’t keep your promise of not doing it again that you said not even a week ago.

I hope you’re aware I’m not stupid, I see when you’re online, I know you’ve left me on delivery for two days on purpose. When I said I don’t know about your reason “this time”, I in fact don’t know a lot of things that you do. When you’re in trouble I know you go on your phone for a couple minutes, you just decide to not even check up on me with that time. It sounds pathetic and unimportant but in my point of view it’s the most gut wrenching thing to know because I would, without a doubt, pick you out of everyone to talk to if I was going to die and had one last chance to talk to someone.

I’m typing all of this and I’m not even sure if we’ll make it till your birthday but, I’ve decided to completely forget about you when it hits 2024 if you still kept ghosting me because I wanna turn into a new person and throw away my past and all my old mistakes behind me that have been affecting my present. I try so hard to give myself excuses about you not texting, maybe you’re doing something with your parents like you said you were doing, maybe it was a surprise trip! But then I think more and realize that if you wanted to text me and say why you couldn’t text, you would’ve and if you couldn’t, you would’ve tried.

I hate how much I love you and I hate how much I’m aware that you don’t love me the same amount. My December is the absolute definition of “Hell”. I decided to wait for winter break to talk to you all about it and make myself better. What a fool I was for waiting and thinking you’d still text me the same. I hate how we text now, I don’t care about anything I just wanna feel special texting you the way we used to.

When I used to always tell you how tired I am based on how tired you are(like when you weren't tired and I was, I’d lie and say I wasn’t either, don’t know if you know what I’m talking about) I’d say it because I know myself, I know how if you were sad I’d be sad, if you’re happy I’m happy, when you’re not around I’m sad and when you’re around I’m happy.

You don’t understand the times I Thanked god each time you texted me back, even when it turned into an argument. I rather argue with you instead of no contact. That's how much I enjoy texting you. No matter how much I’ve cried and felt miserable being with you at times, I can’t seem to let you go. No matter how many boys that have liked me and I’ve never told you about, I decided to ignore and move on with my life. No matter how handsome they were, I myself don't understand why I see something in you that I don’t see with anyone else. Not being able to let you go is what kills me and I physically cannot live without you.

I can’t live a few hours without you, especially when I don't know the reason why you’re gone. When you told me you leave the people you don’t like texting on delivery, you told me that February 2023, a few days before the Valentine’s dance. If I told my February 2023 self that I’d be one of those people you keep on delivering, I’d laugh and start talking about how you’re such an amazing person.

And what’s worse is, I still laugh at myself and talk the best about you, even when I know deep down all the things I would rather swallow glass than go through again when I was with you.

I remember all our memories like it was yesterday, Jan 12, the first conversation when I added you on discord and you asked me “who is this” and i replied with “why didn’t you join me in nana simulator”. That day when going in the bus I told ____ “hey that Jake guy is kinda cute” but didn’t think it would get this far.

The time you made that stupid lie about not hugging me because mister ____ was there and u didn’t want ur parents to know.. I knew it was a lie, and I wasn’t upset that you didn’t hug me, I was uncomfortable as well at that moment, I was upset because someone hit me.

The night you got with g/n that was the same night you got with me. Every single conversation we had I remember it, even the stupid moment when you said you only liked g/n 40%. You say a lot of stupid things that turn out funny, that’s why I try to make myself feel better thinking you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, but I forget that you’re not a child and you know everything you do.

I seriously wish I was lying when I say I never cried this much in my life except when I met you, even now. Right now, you’re even active on Instagram and of course I’m still on delivery. I’ve never felt so pathetic and embarrassed in my life, just looking at that “delivered 2D” thing on ur name. How I watched your name go from “jake” to “Jake❤️” to “jaeyun” to “j” to your original name on snap that you have on default. “⚽️”.

I love you so much that even my mother loves you. Whenever you weren’t texting me (practically the entire December), my mother would ask me about you a lot, I knew she loved you so much and I didn’t want you to have a bad look to my mother so I’d lie to her for you and tell her that you just texted me that you couldn’t text and whenever she’d ask me again, I’d tell her that you were saying the truth and u haven’t went online ever since, even though I knew that you were online half of the time.

I’ve tried seeing you all the time at school just to look at you and act if we are still texting, even if it meant crying a bit in class while thinking about you because I was left without explanation and you always look so happy, despite my absence in your life.

I keep lying to myself and saying that you mean the words you say to me but I know you don’t try to see me in every person you come across the same way I do, you don’t think of me the second you wake up at night the way I do, you would never look for me In a room full of girls.

I wake up from dreams in the middle of the night and even if it was a nightmare my first thought would be you, even if most likely the nightmare would have something to do with you. When my phone is next to me and I wake up, the first thing I do is put my phone down and in my head I say “please say you texted” knowing that each time it’s never you. I go back to sleep and wait for a message knowing I’d never wake up again if it were the case. I say I wish you could communicate more so I could understand how much you love me but, do you not love me as much because you lack communication or do you lack communication because you don’t love me as much.?

I don’t really know how this happy birthday thing turned into a whole story about my love life with you and how miserable I’ve been ever since school started again. It’s 2:01am now and I just can’t seem to fall asleep when you’re on my mind. My head hurts thinking so much about you, my head goes dizzy and my eyes start to pump as if they have their own heartbeat, disgusting..

I love you so much I wish I could forget about you for my own well being.

7 snaps in the morning, none of them are you. So many boys on my phone yet you're still the only one I wish would text me. My head knows ur bad for me but my heart doesn’t wanna leave you, I’m scared of losing every opportunity of being able to be with you, but I guess I’m just wasting that time with my own well being.

3 days doesn't sound like a lot but when you’re always online and ignoring me on purpose, it sure is a long time. I wish I could leave you on delivery for that long. I tried to ignore you a few times but I couldn’t last more than 4 minutes. It hurts how much we are different in this relationship and how much love is we feel is unequal

I tried as much as I could to keep you as my number one best friend on snap. I told my entire best friend list that I couldn’t talk so that nobody would go up, and it still managed to get ruined. Lina spent her days spamming me and making me reply to stories she posts so that she could take the number one best friend list on my list, and it worked. I doubt I was still yours anyway.

It’s funny because it’s news years and 2 years ago, this was the day i met the online friend who left me.

The one I was attached with for 2 years and ruined my entire mental health throughout 6 and 7th grade. The one that YOU replaced. The one I talked about for hours with you on TikTok, the one I told you I would tell everything and ever since he left, you were the new person I started acting as if it was him.

That guy, that nasty guy I was best friends with, blocked me for fun and ghosted me just to see me suffer without him, and you’re just repeating all of it.

I know you’re never going to message me, yet I realize I keep checking my lock screen every 5 minutes, your Instagram status, your reposts, your snap score, everything. I keep myself on not disturb but keep checking to hope that maybe, just maybe, you would’ve decided to check my messages and reply.

If I knew that night was gonna be the last time we were gonna talk to each other, I would’ve listened to my gut and begged you to stay. I’ve repeated many things, this entire “paragraph”(more like a book lol.) is in scrabbles because I don’t know how to explain myself, I write so much each time and just keep feeling the same, no happiness.

I know I said if you don’t text before it hits 2024, I’d forget you and erase you from my life because I’m trying to change, but the truth is, I’m sure that even if you text me after, I’d reply the second I see your name. Although I might be still a little too confident thinking you’d text at all. I don’t want to leave you, even when I know it’s better for me. I want to text you “I wanna break up” so you could make some sense when you’re half swiping my message and quickly reply, but I’m scared that you wouldn’t question it and instead just say okay and leave for good.

I hate always being the one that gets attached in relationships, especially when the other isn’t.

I hate how when you came back after ghosting me for 2 weeks before ghosting me again this time, you were acting as if you were embarrassed and very guilty about what you did, you made me feel bad for you. While I was the one suffering and crying every chance I got, I was the one comforting you. “You don’t need to say sorry, I knew you wouldn’t do this without a reason, I know you wouldn’t mean it.

Even before you came back and said sorry, I had forgiven you. I just want you to focus on yourself but please, communicate with me next time, I’ll understand you.” Those were the words I told you. Why can’t anyone comfort me the same way I comfort people? Why were those the words I wanted to hear? Why are you, the one who makes me smile and who makes me wanna die as well, why are you the only reason I wanna keep living? Why do I see my life only as Important because I know if I died I wouldn’t be able to text you anymore?

I see you use Snapchat by your snap score going up, gosh it feels so pathetic to know I’m still on delivered. Stop doing this to me please I beg you it hurts too much I can’t handle any of it anymore. My eyes are constantly stinging and it hurts so much, I don’t deserve this, all I ever wanted was for you to be happy, with me, not at the look of me going crazy over you not texting me. I’ve been crying for hours and usually I’d run out of tears to cry, why is it that I keep gaining more this time?

Oh please, come back to me, I bear seeing anyone else with you. Our stupid conversations about getting married and lasting forever with eachother, why have you forgotten all of it?

I would’ve never thought i'd feel this way, i thought I loved my life and the only stress I had was school, why am I on winter break and going absolutely insane in the bathroom and in my room over a person like you.

I would’ve never thought id ever wanna die, why do I feel like it’s my only option to peace right now? Suicidal? No way! But I seriously can’t escape from the thought of you, I need you out of my life, but that would be worse, I just wish I never met you, that’s also a lie. I wish you never changed, I miss the times you would care about how I felt.

This month, December, is my worst year. I needed you most at this time, why did you make it harder for me, purposely? Remember when you got mad at me for playing with ___? Haha I was so sad you were ignoring me again and you admitted you didn’t wanna talk, I loved how overprotective you were acting, but why were you jealous about him when he treats me better than you? Why do I love you more than someone who treats me so much better?.

Wow, when I finished writing that, you checked my message. Dec 31 7:14. Opened. Let me guess, you’re gonna start apologizing “MY BAD MY MAD IM SO SORRY I GOT IN TROUBLE.”

And would you look at that, I wrote in my notes app:

Yup, just as a I thought, Jake: MB MY PARENTS TOOK MY PHONE. I sent this to him, all he had to say was he needed time alone and said “see u” when I said “byeee” what the hell. If I killed myself it wouldn’t be enough for this man..??? He doesn’t text me properly for almost a month and he needs TIME ALONE??? Ugh! Happy new years! I told him happy new years on 12 exactly and all he said was “thanks u to” and I said I was gonna become nicer and he said “cool” so I’m going to be straight up with him and ask if we are breaking up. I don’t wanna wait anymore t’il HE'S READY. All he said was no. Wth — His last words were; I love you so much, I'm sorry, I'll message you when i get the chance.

It’s safe to say, I really was going insane. He never texted me again in 8th grade after that—until, the summer before 9th grade. I remember how he asked if we could talk when I have time, he was in France by now by the way. I told him that I was surprised that I’m hearing him again, and said sure. All he had to say was, “I’m sorry for everything I did, I’m sorry for ghosting you and all, I was really going through it” I beg your pardon?

That’s all he wanted to talk about? Quickly, I respond with:

- you: No, Jake. I want to know what happend , why did you do that?

- Jake: I promise you, It was personal problems y/n

He was so stubborn, I know it wasn’t the reason, we would go through things but we’d go through them together—not the way he did it. But, i always saw the good in him, even in that moment, i wasn’t angry at him. When I was with him, he was amazing—so I always wanted to keep that image of him and not swifch up so quickly just because he ghosted me for practically a year now. But still, i had to do what I had to do so—I asked him the big question:

- You: you know, we never properly broke up, so, what is it? Do u still like me? You haven’t talked to me in forever, you’re supposed to answer this.

- Jake: you first

Not this again.

- you: Jake no. You’re the one who left so you’re the one who answers it.

- Jake: no no just please you first

- You: Jake. What do you want from me? opened.

There he goes again, that was for real the last message. I never heard from him again-

“next stop, _____ university” —

There’s the train—perfect timing.

Today’s a weird day—maybe because it’s snowing, maybe because its the month he first started acting weird. Usually, you think of him before bed, not during the entire morning… You miss him, it’s been a while—You still wonder where he is now.

Sometimes, you wonder if you should drop out of university and become a famous model—maybe then he could recognise you and reach out.

You can barely remember his voice, you lost all my old videos from before you even started texting—those were the times you actually heard him speak, the rest was small talk and then completely no contact. Even when you guys were dating, you never spoke in real life—too scared and nervous.

You're finaly off the train—heading to class now, exams are coming up. You never got to experience it with Jake since he left to go to high-school in France, did I mention that already? You say to yourself. Actually, he had never removed his name from your school so when you had attendance on the first day of nineth grade, he was called in every single one of your classes. What a coincidence, you had never gotten in the same class for two years but then could’ve got all your first semester classes with him if he hadn’t left—what a way to play with your reason to live.

University isn’t like highschool anymore—it’s quieter, people are more focused on themselves than things that people have to say about eachother. You have a small group of friends that you met In highschool, you're glad you're still in touch despite how many years it’s been.

9:09am—huh??? Your class starts in a minute, shoot!

You dont know why you rushed to get to class so quickly… it’s too boring, You're bout to fall asleep. As you were about to lay your head on the desk and doze off—you heard your professor mutter something a little interesting for once.

“Okay students, this doesn’t have to do with our major but the board entered my name to do a small project out of context. Today, and for the following month, there will be 15 people from this class and the class that starts in 2 hours who will travel abroad—more specifically to France-“

That’s all you needed to hear—you didn’t care about the rest, you heard France and knew that you were going to be participating in this activity. It’ll be fun, you say, i'll get to experience how Jake lived in France, you say. You say it all, with no intentions of actually meeting Jake. You just wanted to experience what he experienced, maybe it'd make you feel a little closer to him. Like always, you made everything in your life, about him. It’s like he was famous in your mind.

You needed a break from your current place anyway, everything was all over the place, you felt as if you’ve been living the same days over and over again. Maybe this was an opportunity to change things a bit—get you out of your comfort zone.

You signed up so quickly to the program my teacher talked about a few days ago. You already found a roommate to stay with for the time you'll be staying there.

The guy you arranged to live with was a little bit younger than you, but you didn’t mind—you just needed a place to stay for a bit. You soon learned that he goes to the same university that you’ll be studying in, which is nice—you’ll have someone to help you around everything.

You’re counting the days until you leave—you called with the roommate and found out a few extra things about him. His name was ni-ki, he was also a foreigner except he’s permanently staying there. He’s in the same major as you and as you exchanged schedules, you saw that you guys had 2/4 classes together—that’s nice, already got a buddy to be with for half of your classes!

You're now in France, heading to your apartment—ready to meet Ni-ki. Right before you can manage to knock, he opens the door—as if he was waiting for you by the door. "Hey," he speaks, his voice low and deep. He was tall and slim—it reminded you of Jake. You don't know how he looks like anymore, you haven't in a while. The last time you saw him, he was tall, above all the boys in your grade, you don't know anything about him anymore actually.

Before you could continue being lost in thought, Ni-ki speaks up once again. "How about you go get some rest, you look tired. You can tell me about your trip in the morning. Sounds good?" You nod, you were exhausted, the trip was long and you could barely close your eyes in the plane.

'Oh and, y/n, by the way, i'll invite some friends over for a bit, if that's alright with you?' 'yeah that's fine don't worry, I bet you i'll be so deep in sleep that I wouldn't even wake up if you guys bomb the place.' What a lie. You couldn't fall asleep at all.

right as you thought you were going to fall asleep, you heard the door burst open, the people Ni-ki invited finally arrived. You could hear like—five people? Oh wait—no—a sixth one—who.. Sounded a lot like—Jake.

You couldn't remember his voice but when you heard something like him—you just knew. What a great discovery, even if you were going to finally get some sleep—you definitely aren't now. You sat in the bed you were assigned to sleep in, listening to the boys downstairs chatting—the guy who sounded like Jake wasn't really talkative, maybe its not him—actually, you're sure its not him—you're just eavesdropping so that you could pretending that you're listening to Jake's voice.

In the morning, Ni-ki had to wake you up for your class because you were still used to your old timezone. 'y/n... we have class in like 30 minutes...' 'Five more minutes... Get off of me, let me sleep!' 'I'll rip up all your clothes if you don't get up.' 'What? What! Okay, okay I'm up!'

You both ran to class, your apartment wasn't on campus but it was still close. You were introduced to the first two classes with Ni-ki by your side, you followed him everywhere for those first two periods—but now, you two next are alone—and you have no idea where to go.

Luckily, you spotted one of your teachers from your morning classes, they had to go fill out some papers and correct tests so they couldn't give you a tour of the school—but guided you to Ni-ki's class so that he could be excused out of his class and help you.

You walked into his class behind your teacher, not bothering to look at anyone to try and find him—too scared you'll make awkward eye contact with anyone who isn't him.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your lesson, Chanelle, but could we please steal your student Nishimura Riki for a period? We have a new foreign student who knows him and needs a tour of campus." Your teacher said to the one who was currently teaching Ni-ki's class. "Oh why of course, and don't apologise, i needed this few second break..." She responded. "Nishimura, get down here"

As she called him over, you follower her eyes—trying to spot Ni-ki. Then, you found him, laying back on a chair with his feet on the table, surrounded by 6 boys—probably the ones from yesterday.

'Hey ni-ki, whos that girl next to the teacher? You know her?' The purple haired boy asked. Just as you were going to smile and wave at him, your eyes spotted one of the boys who stood out a bit brighter than the rest—due to his immersive stare at you. Jake. There he was. Yes you haven't seen him in a while, but those eyes never change. it really was him—right infront of you. It was Jake.

You didn't utter a single word—turning quickly and just waiting for ni-ki to get down. You always imagined what you'd do when you saw him again—you just didn't expect it ever to be like this.

In the afternoon, after both you and ni-ki got back to your apartment. You built up the courage to ask him, 'Hey, ni-ki, who were those boys you were with when I came into your class searching for you?' 'Oh them, those are my best friends. Heeseung, the purple haired one you heard, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon and Jake. We've been friends ever since i got here, but they've been childhood friends since they were little—except Jake, he came during highschool, but that's still a while ago! Y/n? Are you listening-' 'Yes! Yes! I am indeed!' 'Oh okay, well yeah. Actually, they're coming over again—i'll properly introduce you to them then!'

Excuse you? Coming over? Again? How many times do these boys come over? They just visited yesterday... "Again?" you spoke, voice a little lower than you hoped it'd be. "Yeah, they come over all the time, you'll love them, trust me!" He said, love filled in his eyes as he spoke about his friends—completely unaware of what you were currently thinking.

Minutes passed and suddenly, the doorbell rang. You instinctively froze, Ni-ki jogged to go get the door, leaving you in the living room alone, awkwardly waiting. "Guys, this is the girl from earlier, this is y/n, shes my roommate" One by one, they entered the room, you got up and kindly greeted all five of them—until it was turn for the sixth one who took a little longer to remove his coat after hearing ni-ki's words.

When it was Jake's turn, your heart sank, you looked at him from close up—he was different. His face had matured, his hair had thickened, He body looked a lot fuller and grown up than you last remember. A lot changed—but it was still so easy to tell it was him. Perfect nose, flawless face, the same eyes you fell in love with.

"Y/n?" Jake spoke, in a questioning tone, way lower than how he used to speak. You were surprised that he even said something, if you two were in 8th grade, he wouldn't even be able to look your way, head down as he walks past you to make it seem like he didn't see you—while you would stare at the lockers, the opposite direction of him. "Long time no see" was all you said, though your mind was saying alot more.

"You two know each other?" Jungwon asked as you both nodded. "What a small world!" Sunoo added.

The rest of the night was awkward, both you and Jake sneaking glances of each other, trying to admire everything that changed. We haven't seen each other in 10 years, It's normal. For a split second, you both had eye contact—his eyebrows lower than usual, his eyes in a weird shape, like if it was an apology.

He used to be so active, so energetic—but tonight, he was even quieter than when I heard him yesterday from upstairs.

Sunghoon and Heeseung requested to watch a movie. You tried distracting yourself by helping Jay pick out snacks from the pantry, but his gaze was burning you, you could feel it no matter what you do. All of a sudden, ni-ki requested Jake to go grab some drinks. As he walked past you to the fridge he whispered, "Y/n, can we talk?"

It was starting to get late, each member leaving, keeping you and Jake alone. You didn't want to talk in the apartment with ni-ki so you both requested going outside the apartment, take a little walk as you talk.

It reminded you of when you went on that field trip, walking downtown with lights everywhere, as if you were in a movie, as if the world was only you and him, nothing else mattered. After minutes of silence, he broke it, Jake finally spoke.

- I didnt expect to you again. He said

- I didnt either.

- I wanted to apologise for everything, I know i said that the last time we spoke, but i really mean it this time. I know that whatever the reason was, I should've never acted that way.

- But Jake, how many times have we been through this before? Its been 10 years and yet you still say the same thing. I don't even know why I'm still here, listening to you say all of this, even after all the time that passed.

- I know I was always wrong, i know. My parents forced me okay? They didn't think I'd be able to focus on my education if I kept talking to you. My graders were dropping and they thought it was because of you when really it was because i was fooling around with my friends. I know you asked me if it was because of my parents and I said no but I was just so scared I didn't know what to do, I didn't want to disrespect my parents either and tell you that they were telling me to leave you.

As you were trying to find the words to respond to him, he continued.

- I know i was a jerk, and i dont expect you to forgive me so easily especially that im saying all of this so late, I didnt know if you would want to ever see my face again anyway. I needed to say this all because i cant keep it in anymore.

At this point, he’s sobbing, unable to even walk anymore—he just sat there, on the side of the road. His hands covering his face and trying to wipe his tears as fast as he face—now, avoiding your gaze at all times.

You’ve never seen him like this, he never cried, never spoke about his feelings, he never thought he should because he wanted to look strong all the time. “okay Jake, I forgive you, I forgave you a long time ago, just please, get up Jake. Let’s go to your place, I can’t leave you like this, please.” You pleaded, feeling sorry for him. You knew he had a kind heart deep down despite everything, your heart ached at the scene in front of you.

You got to his place, helped him wash his face, his face flushed, embarrassed that he did all that after seeing you just once aft all those years. Everything was weird, despite the entire scene, everything was still unspoken, leaving plenty of things to discuss about.

As you sat him down on his couch, he said, "Y/n. I promise you for real this time, i'll tell you everything, I'll explain everything right now, I want to fix things even if it takes another 10 years to cure it all."

"Okay." you said, everything felt like the day you two confessed, explaining the unexplained, answering the questions you both were wondering about each other's actions back there.

Maybe it was going to take a while to get everything adjusted again, but you didn't mind, its not like you waited 10 years already, you know how to wait. None of that mattered right now, you were just relieved that finally—you have answers.

Maybe, it was worth it—having you famous in my mind.

372 notes · View notes

revelboo · 23 days ago

Note

HI HI HIII!

soooo I read your Drift, Rodimus and the Scavngers 18+ and it got me falling over heels.

I swear, some authors whom I asked and answered my asked are such goddamn talented people and it makes me wanna give em a chefs kiss

*Chef kiss to the 18+ I mentioned*

ANYWAYS

Could you possibly do another Scavngers 18+ or perhaps all the Lost Light crew members +18?

Sure! 18+ Mass displaced mechs 🌶️

You have no idea how hard it was to not be a gremlin with Minimus

Minimus: Can we just interface normally tonight? Human: Nope, put on the Magnus armor and mass shift.

MTMTE Scenarios/ Snippets

Scavengers

• Optics brightening and head lazily lifting from where it’s resting on your belly, Fulcrum vents when you grin up at him, wearing his stolen goggles. “Little thief,” he says, shifting to crouch over you as your thigh slides against the outside of his. “You know what happens to thieves?” And you’re completely unrepentant, pushing his goggles up on top of your head to make your messy hair even wilder. Hand sliding over your hip, servos splayed on you to surf even higher up your body. Tracing curves and hollows to make you wiggle.

• “Jealous because they look better on me?” You tease as he moves over you, then his mouth finds yours. Reaching up you hook your arms around his neck and feel him nudge your thighs further apart. Glossa stealing inside as his spike brushes the inside of your thigh. Laughing when he tries to find you and slides against you instead to make him nip your bottom lip in a soft reprimand. Then the head of his spike is stretching you, your back arching on a moan.

• Groaning as he sinks deep, he rocks himself against you, smiling against your neck. And then groaning for a whole different reason when the door opens and Crankcase and Misfire come in, arguing and stop short. Because living on a cramped ship with four other mechs means having very little alone time. Or privacy. It’s not like they’ll leave if he asks, so he tries to ignore them. Hard to do when he’s mass displaced and they’re huge. Is this how you feel all the time?

• “You didn’t invite us? I’m hurt,” Misfire says, leaning his elbows on the berth you and Fulcrum are on and propping his chin on a hand. Apparently intending to watch Fulcrum frag you. Glaring at him upside down as Fulcrum’s thrusts falter slightly with the audience. The poor guy more embarrassed than you are. “Little tip, buddy, you need a little more leverage to hit that angle Tiny likes,” Misfire adds and you’re going to smack him first chance you get.

• Hears you hissing at Misfire to shut up as he tries to focus on you, the feel of you under him, wet and tight around his spike. Pretending it’s just you and him. “What kind of rhythm is that?” Crankcase growls and Fulcrum hides his face against your neck. “You should just let Tiny ride you if that’s the best you can do.”

• Glaring at both of them as they just grin at you completely unbothered, you cup Fulcrum’s face in your palms forcing his head up. “Don’t listen to them. Misfire only lasts one minute tops anyway,” you taunt just to watch the Seeker’s wings flick. Know he’s going to get revenge for that comment later, but right now you focus on Fulcrum. Rocking yourself under him. “I want you.” Helm bumping against your forehead, he begins moving again and you lift your hips to meet him. “That’s right. Right there.” Head falling back as he thrusts deep and by some miracle, the other two don’t make any more snide comments. Letting you focus on the feel of him moving against you.

Rung

• Smiling up at him as his servos feather through your hair, optics staring down at you as you kneel between his thighs, cheek on his leg. “Are you sure you want, I mean, you don’t have to,” he mumbles, looking almost embarrassed as he stumbles over his words. And you love that you can do this to him. Make the well spoken, calm bot struggle just to speak. In answer, you lean down to run the tip of your tongue against the mesh of his inner thigh seam and he shudders, servos fisting in your hair. But he stops protesting and finally frees his spike for you.

• “I know I don’t have to,” you whisper, lips ghosting against him, your breath warm on his spike. That wet tongue sliding along the seams around his spike, before your mouth glides along the underside of it. “I want to.” Little fingers tracing every ridge and node, following the pulse of his biolights. And those lovely eyes look up at him before you take the head into your mouth.

Tailgate and Cyclonus

• Servos curling into fists, hips lifting slightly, Cyclonus grits his denta as your mouth moves on his spike, tongue sliding against him as your head slowly bobs. Watches through hooded optics as Tailgate shifts behind you, hands on your hips. And you moan around his spike when Tailgate buries his own spike inside you. Knows Tailgate enjoys being bigger than you, hears the smaller bot groan as he rocks himself against you.

• Servos tightening on your hips as he ruts against you, he glances up at Cyclonus to find the other mech watching him, lips parted as you take your time with his spike. Suspects Cyclonus only tolerates you to indulge him, but the bigger mech is always willing to let you both sleep sprawled on top of him without any complaints, making Tailgate suspect he’s starting to soften towards you. Hips snapping against you, he watches Cyclonus grit his denta, head tipping back as he cups the back of your neck.

• Tongue sliding against the underside of Cyclonus’s spike as Tailgate’s thrusts become more urgent, shifting behind you so his next stroke sends you over the edge. And tailgate is driving deep and rocking himself against you in shallow thrusts before he’s releasing inside you. Your head lifts from Cyclonus’s spike on a moan when Tailgate slips free, hooking an arm around you to drag you with him when he sprawls on his back with you on top. Hear Cyclonus snarl as he shifts to cover both of you, spike finding you and driving deep. Trapped between them as Tailgate’s servos slide against you, his other hand grabbing onto Cyclonus’s arm as you hook an arm around the bigger mech’s neck as he moves inside you.

Rodimus

• “Stop, you’ve got to stop,” he groans, servos gripping the surface under you as he shudders. “Just give me a klik.” Legs hooked around his waist, you dig your heels into him, wiggling and grinning up at him as he shakily laughs. “You brat.” There’s no real heat in his words, though as he leans over you, mouth finding yours.

• Hands wandering on him, he tries to distract you with his mouth while he gets himself under control. Knows his plating is heating up and just needs a moment. Because you’re both literally playing with fire, risking his outlier ability flaring up. Something that can’t happen with you and he’s too embarrassed about his lack of control to admit what’s wrong. Mouth lazily moving on yours, he slowly rocks himself against you. Too scared to go fast and rough like he’d like.

Ultra Magnus/Minimus Ambus

• Mouth brushing the back of your neck, he interlaces his servos with your fingers as he moves against you. Listening to those little sounds you make as his spike strokes deep. And he doesn’t feel too small, dwarfed by everyone else like he normally is with you. Doesn’t have to be Magnus to matter. He’s enough.

• Breath hitching as he drapes himself against your back, hips rocking as his spike stretches you, you can feel when he vents against you. Too tired and relaxed to care much about chasing a climax, just enjoying the intimacy. When his frame strains, servos tightening on your hand as his mouth opens against your shoulder to muffle his groan as he releases inside you. How many times is this now?

#transformers x reader #scavengers x reader #rung x reader #minimus ambus x reader #rodimus x reader #tailgate x reader #Cyclonus x reader

260 notes · View notes

kaisentine · 1 month ago

Text

IN WHICH; you and kaiser get into an argument over a stupid reason which leads into a hard launch after his match.

a/n: do NAWT speak to me about how unrealistic the last scenes are. i KNOWW how crazy fans can be and they’d probably be mauling/trampling you guys to death😭 also say no to telling me to put my ear to your mouth and listen what you have to say (kaz ref…) only to tell me this is ooc leave me alone pls. & not proofread lolz

cw: swearing, arguments -> making up, my writing

“i could stay for tonight.”

it was sickening coming from your tongue because kaiser knew he didn’t want you only for tonight. he’s coming close to crushing you with how hard he’s squeezing your body like he never wants you to leave.

“just for tonight?” is a question he poses. the air around you two remains silent and it angers him—are you thinking about an answer? for there is no other answer than accepting defeat and staying in his arms, forever.

you try squirming around to wiggle your way out of his hold because it was getting warmer than you’d like it to be. “yes, micha. just for tonight.” you start whining at this point but he does not budge no matter how hard you try. he’s only growing more irritated by your response paired up with the nickname you call him to be affectionate.

affectionate his ass—you’re basically admitting you hate him. as much as he loves being seen as an enemy in others’ eyes, he hates when you perceive him in such a manner. “don’t call me micha.” hes huffing out and you can feel the vibrations in his chest

“okay mr. football prodigy.” your tease is muffled by his chest. in most situations, he’d take it as a compliment to feed his ego but he knows you’re deliberately trying to egg him on. and though he currently can’t see your face because of the position you guys are in, he swears he can feel your eyes rolling at him.

“i still have a life… and a job.” now it’s your turn to get fed up by his behavior. “am i not your life?” he’s sounding like you genuinely just offended his whole bloodline and hell, maybe even very distant ancestors. you want to say he’s joking but judging by experience, he most certainly isn’t.

one thing you understood when you first started dating him was that he would not give up his career for you and using the same logic, you didn’t have to either. now can some mind reader tell you why this is happening? why is he being so stubborn about this in particular? not like kaiser isn’t dramatic or stubborn most of the time but he’s never been this stubborn over a matter like this.

“michael that’s not… i just—i can’t just give everything up for you.” oh, now you’re calling him by his full first name? perhaps that wasn’t the best way to word it because you feel grip shifting to the back of your head to keep it in place, he does this because he doesn’t want you seeing his face. “why not?” he barks a lot quieter than he normally does.

“what do you mean by ‘why not’? this has been my life, even before i met you.” you try holding in the scoff that you were trying so hard to avoid but it’s obvious now.

as if it wasn’t already tense but it feels like it bloomed into a raging silence. you believe he’s thinking of an answer but in reality, he isn’t. he’s thinking about anything else other than him opening his mouth because only the heavens know what words would spew out of his mouth if he were to—imagine how worse he’d make this petty argument.

you hate this.

you hate silence.

you hate him being silent.

and you make the dumb decision to add salt to the injury—the one thing kaiser didn’t want to do. “do you actually want to argue about this? if so, i’m not staying at all.” there you go, saying things you don’t actually mean. “do you mean that?” oh he actually responded. you did try to choose your words carefully but your mouth moves faster than your thoughts.

“and if i did?” you’re lying through your teeth, but he takes the bait.

that was what unlocked his vile mouth that should be censored on television after losing a match. “you really are annoying, you know that? i hope you didn’t because i didn’t know that either when i started liking you. or were you just leading me on? i don’t care if you aren’t staying anymore. just fucking leave.” he’s lacing his words with cyanide.

he’s second guessing his thoughts of wanting you to stay forever if you were just going to be acting like that. his grip on you is finally loosening and it’s easier to slide right past his arms. you take the chance and peak at his face. it wasn’t the look you want to see on him normally but it is justified in this situation. he has a scowl on his face but he still looks so pretty like this. he’s looking at you too, albeit not with the admiration you’re doing.

it isn’t the best idea to stay silent and so you don’t.

“fine then.” you say while walking away from him to head towards the entrance and like expected, he doesn’t follow you. you take the bag from the front-door rack and slip on the shoes he gifted you.

you spare no time opening the door, not even glancing back when you shut the door as well. kaiser is the one looking, glaring at the back of your head before you disappear behind his door. after he knows you’re off completely, he goes over to lock it shut but also ends up smelling the slight scent of your perfume floating in the air.

looks like you won’t be staying tonight anymore. and now that this happened, will you ever? did he want you to?

this argument could have been so minor if both of you had just sucked it up.

were you still together? it didn’t end in clear closure, just him telling you to leave and you did.

did you still want this? did he still want this?

in all honesty, he just wants you. no matter what form, no matter what, he still wants to say he knows you. it didn’t have to be this way.

safe to say neither of you had good sleep that night.

kaiser has many ways to express his aggression. be it words, physical contact (past), or what he’s doing right now—football. he hasn’t contacted you ever since that day and you haven’t either. makes him question what he still is to you.

why does he care? if you don’t want to talk to him, neither do you. if you hate him, he hates you.

however, whenever he does take his anger out of the field, he dominates it. effectively becoming the king of the field. from the get-go it was obvious bastard munchen would win the match against some other team they were playing against.

you could tell too, setting aside the fact you were sitting pretty far from the game. what made you want to watch the match even if you thought he was probably your ex already? you didn’t know. it’s like you just gravitate towards the stupid rat tails man, he’s an annoying magnet to you now.

and like everyone betted on, bastard munchen did win.

the team immediately celebrates by huddling together, slapping each-others hands, carrying each-other, and what not? you unconsciously smile at the scene, it was small, you could still feel it but you couldn’t help it.

kaiser is celebrating with his team, being somehow lifted on-top of ness’ shoulders (which he is really annoyed at and he’s wondering how the fuck he’s doing that, what is wrong with him?). he ultimately scored the last goal they needed to win. it wasn’t a surprise because when he plays, he wants to—needs to—win.

despite that, his teammates couldn’t help but realize his anger, leading to yoichi asking him a question that makes kaiser want to choke the black-haired man on the spot.

“the hell was that?” he asks (referring the stupidly impossible goal kaiser was able to score, but you know… he doesn’t believe anything is impossible.) “i have a question for you too, yoichi. what the hell is that kind of question?” he’s laughing out, still on ness’ shoulders. but he’s laughing so hard his whole body starts to shake, making ness stumble a little.

still, yoichi was able to tell something was off.

“uh… what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”

but before kaiser could answer that with going off on him, he’s being pulled into an interview.

what made that goal possible?

“it was never impossible.”

what do you feel after winning?

“as if we weren’t going to win.”

boring questions he didn’t want to answer but he was obligated to—for he was basically the star of the show, like always. that was until a certain question was asked that made him look around the stadium for the first time.

that was quite an impressive goal.

“of course.”

is there anyone you wanted to watch that shot?

he’s silent. he’s thinking of you as he gazes around the bleachers—embarrassingly thinking everyone has your face and accidentally making eye contact with crazy fans that go berserk when he does. the only reason he never looked before and during the match was because you wouldn’t be there.

what a desperate reason, right? row after row, he’s scanning every seat, even the ones that are empty and imagining you’re the one sitting in it. 3rd to the top row, he scanning and not expecting to see you.

the fuck? is that you?

is he looking at you? kaiser is looking in your direction and in the area you’re seated but you’re so high up you can’t tell and it’s very unlikely he is but he keeps staring. you’re awkwardly looking away and around your section to hide your face.

oh but he’s already gotten a look of the face he so desperately wanted to see and he’s not going to look away, nor will he stand in one place. like a lunatic who just escaped some mental hospital, he’s booking it from the interviewer who stands shocked.

oh ok... he totally saw you which defeats the total point of you sitting so far away, was he lying to you when he said his eyesight wasn’t the best? probably. anyway, that was your sign to also walk away.

screams of fans were deafening and you felt like your eardrums were going to burst anyway.

who cursed you? because it was such a coincidence that kaiser comes out the way you were going to exit. he didn’t count how many fans who were asking all sorts of things he ran past to get to you.

as soon as you saw his face, you tried playing it off cool and spun the other way to walk away but he was by no means dumb and he saw you do that. he clicked his tongue in annoyance.

it felt like when you ask your friends to chase you and they actually do and now you’re screaming your lungs out trying to outrun them. obviously it was futile because he was so much faster than you.

no words could explain how fucking loud the crowd was, first when he ran, second when he entered the spectator area, last (hopefully) when he hugged you tightly from behind, stopping you from running.

like that night, he was warmer than you’d like him to be. arms wrapped around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. “are you running away again?” he’s whispering into your ear and despite the crowd + the booming voices around you… ++ the paparazzi basically stomping on people to get a photo, he’s unbelievably close to your ear, you have no trouble in hearing him.

“kaiser.” you breathe out in the same shock the interviewer was probably in. “don’t call me that. answer my question.” he huffs—he hasn’t heard you call him that in for like… forever! (unless you count other arguments)

“should i want to run away?”

“i don’t want you to.”

the grip is getting tighter and it slightly stops you from breathing for a second. you don’t want to run away, you don’t hate him.

you were thinking the same as him, whether or whether not he still considered you his. but you know his ego is way too high for his own good so you do him a favor and ask him instead.

“are we still something?” you ask and it hurts him that you do—did you not think that anymore? his eye is twitching with uncertain emotions. “…tell me your answer first.” there’s hurt evident in his voice because he doesn’t want to jump into conclusions and hurt his ego even more than he already has fighting for his way to get to you.

“i don’t know, are we?” he’d flick your forehead with full power if he wasn’t trying to make up with you. it’s barely audible but you hear “i still want this.” a frown is on your face and he took it as a bad sign.

“i do too, micha.” you admit, he’s spiraling by how you say his name.

as much as he wants to say that he did want you to stay with him forever, that he didn’t want you to leave him, that he doesn’t actually find you annoying, that he loves you. he decides on doing only the second and last option because he’s kept himself, you, and the fans waiting far too long.

(you also wanted to say you didn’t mean it.)

he’s spinning you around to face him.

“don’t leave me, ever.”

he holds your hands in his, leaning forward to kiss you.

and though you guys still have so much to apologize, discuss, and everything in between… you both would rather leave that for a private matter. just stay in this moment, in his arms for now? if not forever.

oh and now you hoped this was the last time the crowd got as rowdy as it was.

GERMAN FOOTBALL PRODIGY; MICHAEL KAISER AND HIS SUPPOSED PARTNER MAKE IT PUBLIC! WHO IS THE LUCKY PERSON? EVERYTHING WE KNOW RIGHT NOW…

locknessmonster : bro wtf

291 notes · View notes

seiwas · 1 year ago

Text

₊˚⊹。look my way, you’re what i crave | gojo satoru

wc: 2.6k

summary: you and gojo made a promise to yuuji.

contains: f!reader in mind but no pronouns used, food trip/taste-testing, many food descriptions, a little bit of (playful) jealousy, pouty gojo, yuuji calls reader sensei, established relationship (but no label).

a/n: a small extra scene that takes place some time between col 2.5 and col 3! not a food expert nor am i japanese, so food descriptions are just based off first-hand experience and some research i’ve managed to do! there are some switches in povs (gojo-reader-gojo) but i tried to keep it as distinct as possible! this is also my birthday gift for you, niku @stellamancer!! thank you for sharing this idea with me and for loving the col couple as much as i do!!

collection masterlist: conversations on love 2.5. and my body keeps saying (it's yours) <- you are here -> 03. so this is what it means to be in love + (extended scene) too good to be mine

‘Losing’ isn’t a word in Gojo’s vocabulary.

If it is, it’s usually addressed to the other party.

He’s been a winner ever since he was born, two blue eyes and an extra four hidden, holding power that manifests itself only once every few centuries. Some argue that he was born for that reason: to win, without doubt, incontestably.

And he supposes, most of it is true—which is why he can’t believe the loss he’s feeling right now, standing in front of the Daifuku stall across from you.

Never in his entire life did Gojo ever anticipate himself losing to anything. But with the way you’d casually nodded off, signaled so nonchalantly that you’d follow him but clearly didn’t—it has his head turning, finding you midbite a singular, shared stick of Yakitori.

He thinks he might have just experienced his first loss.

And the victor is none other than Itadori Yuuji.

You made a promise to Yuuji.

Back when he was still up for execution by virtue of being Sukuna’s vessel, you’d laid your confidence in Gojo.

“Sensei, do you really think it’s possible?” he asks, voice hesitant but eyes tinged with hope. You were discussing the ways his execution could go down—if it even will go down.

Shoko’s always pointed out that the most dangerous thing about you is hope, and how you hold onto it so deeply that you pass it onto others like a disease, spreading it to seep into skin and bones.

Gojo calls it your hidden technique, the trump card you pull out when everyone’s knocked down, spirits low. It’s what sets you apart, he thinks, how you’re able to survive in a world that serves as an antithesis to the values you hold.

“If Satoru said to leave it up to him, he’ll find a way,” you answer immediately, like you’ve known it all this time, experienced it first-hand—a memory. Then you add, an affirmation that sounds so close to fact, it reassures him, “he always does.”

“Let’s go to Osaka and eat all the street food when everything’s done.”

You made a promise to Yuuji, and here you are now, with Gojo, keeping it.

The streets of Osaka are bustling, crowded pretty much any time of the year—carts of all sorts of street food lined up with restaurants hidden in every corner. Neon banners and LED signs light up overhead, a twinkling food heaven reflected in Yuuji’s eyes.

It must be his first time here, you surmise, because he’s looking at every food stall like he’s ready to devour. You glance at Gojo, hands tucked in his pockets with his blindfold sitting snugly on his face. His presence is bright, blending in with the light, and he turns his head to you slightly, flashing you a small smile.

You tell yourself the warmth you feel is because of the heat radiating from all the vendors’ stoves.

“Sensei, what do you want to try first?” Yuuji interrupts your train of thought, but you’re sure he doesn’t mean to. He’s just excited, and his energy has always been infectious, spreading to both Gojo and you.

Gojo isn’t too big a fan of savory things, so you know you’re going to end up having to choose. You take a look around you to survey each stall, before turning back to Yuuji with a plan on how exactly you’re going to eat and conquer.

Gojo watches—the way you zig-zag across the street, following Yuuji as he walks up to each vendor. It’s both amusing and endearing seeing you being just as, if not more, enthralled at all the savory options in front of you.

Between the two of you, he’s always had the sweet tooth, so it tickles something in him that even when you don’t, your food-tasting game plan still consists of alternating savory-sweet-savory food.

Yuuji’s first pick is of course, Okonomiyaki, an iconic must-have in Osaka. He orders one piece at first, but you insist on two, knowing that the boy is more than capable of finishing a single one on his own. On the frying sheet lie columns of the pancakes–a simple mixture of flour, eggs, and cabbage–fried and coated in flavors bursting of sweet, savory, and smoky. The lady vendor is generous with the toppings and sauce she pours over it, packing the two pancakes in separate plastic containers before handing one to you and the other to Yuuji.

You turn back to find Gojo a few steps behind you, so you beckon him closer.

“Let’s share,” you whisper, once he sidles up next to you. The plastic crinkles in your hand as you try to slice a piece, Yuuji’s muffled ‘whoah’ heard from the side.

You blow on the slice, lips shaped into a small ‘o’; he doesn’t want to stare, not with Yuuji right there and neither of you having made anything official yet—

—but this is really tempting him to kiss you.

He doesn’t know if you can tell—any hint of his desire concealed by his blindfold, but you shove the slice right to his lips. And while it isn’t graceful at all, with the sauce probably smeared all over his mouth, it’s a good distraction from how much he wants you instead of the food right now.

The texture of the Okonomiyaki hits right every time, the crunchy and creamy combination providing a great contrast that complements how sweet and savory it is. The bite you take after his has your expression mirroring Yuuji’s, and he takes out his phone to capture this memory.

“Gowo-shunsheh! Tek a shulfeh!” Yuuji shouts, mouth still full as he lifts his fingers up into a peace sign. You grin, ear-to-ear, evidence of your happy tummy; he wants to pinch your cheeks.

“Okay, copy!” he raises his phone up at an angle, fingers hovering over the volume button as he grips the edges, “ready! 1…2…3… say Okonomiyaki!”

Only Yuuji shouts it, and when Gojo reviews the photo, you’re halfway through a fallen smile—face contorting into disbelief that he said something that cringey, in typical, loud, Gojo fashion too.

“Hey!” he points out, zooming into your face in the photo, “Again! You’re not smiling!”

You shoot him a look.

“We can try it with a .5 this time, the kids love it these days.” he suggests, flipping the phone and gathering you and Yuuji closer.

He takes two photos: one with flash and one without, and the moment he counts down, you mumble right by his ear to please not say ‘Okonomiyaki’ when you have to smile—he chuckles.

And he says it again. Both times.

You expected no less, but at least you tried.

“You should be our human tripod next time,” you tell him, letting Yuuji go ahead.

The photos look good, with you tiptoeing as you balance a hand on Gojo’s shoulder, Yuuji at the back with his hands raised, holding the empty plastic that used to house his Okonomiyaki.

“Knew you were just using me,” he pouts, hand reaching behind to rest at your lower back.

It’s been the subtleties with him this trip, tonight especially.

“Yep,” you play along, smiling oh-so-sweetly, “I knew those freakishly long arms were good for something.”

Before he can retort with something cheesy, along the lines of: ‘to hold you’ or ‘to hug you in your sleep’, you move away, catching up to Yuuji.

Your pick, for Gojo, is Taiyaki. It’s not his favorite thing to eat, but it’s sweet, and is still a good, nostalgic dessert, you’d like to think. Batter is poured all over the fish molds before being filled with the red bean filling. Then, after a few minutes of waiting, it pops out perfectly, ready to be eaten by the three of you. You ask for two again, only because this time, you know Gojo can finish one whole.

But when his eyes land on the Taiyaki you’re biting from and he realizes very quickly that it isn’t his, he feels a pinch.

It's a good thing the crunchy outside and soft, full inside of the Taiyaki is enough to make him shrug off the feeling. For now.

As the food trip goes on, you end up in many more stalls—

—a Takoyaki one, where Yuuji’s ‘ooo’s’ and ‘aaa’s’ are heard every time the balls are flipped and formed. The cooking on it is perfect, the pieces of octopus sitting just right with enough bite as flavors of soy and Worcestershire come through in its glaze. Gojo only eats one from the set of six that you ordered, and he wishes he just waited, because now Yuuji is eating half of the last one you couldn't finish.

—a Kushikatsu one, deep fried beef and vegetables coated in crispy, crunchy breadcrumbs and dipped in Tonkatsu sauce. Yuuji ends up finishing three whole sticks, while you manage to eat one. It’s an animated conversation between the two of you that Gojo can’t seem to insert himself into. A part of him feels a little pathetic now, tailing you both like a dog, but he just wants a little bit more of your attention.

—a Soba shop (not so much a stall) that serves amazing Cold Soba he definitely isn’t missing out on. Yuuji is practically buzzing, excited for anything noodles; it’s the main reason you’d suggested Osaka in the first place. He ducks in the shop last, Yuuji first with you in the middle, and when you settle in your seat right beside him, he snickers endearingly. Gojo can see everything, you’re reminded of that everyday and in moments like this especially. Right now, it's the way you sigh as soon as you release the top button of your pants immediately.

You pout at him as you’re served an order each, the dipping sauce in small ceramic as the noodles lie in bamboo boxes. It’s refreshing and light, just the right balance of sweet and savory; the buckwheat noodles have a lovely bite to them, not at all mushy. When he glances at you, halfway through your bowl, he can tell that you’re already full.

But just as he offers to finish yours—

“Sensei, are you going to finish that?”

—there’s Yuuji.

You shake your head, pushing your bowl towards him; Gojo feels that pinch returning.

A few good minutes of walking find you on the way to another stall—

—a Yakitori one that Yuuji practically skips to, as if he didn’t just finish a bowl and a half of Cold Soba, three sticks of Kushikatsu, three and a half pieces of Takoyaki, a half of one Taiyaki, and a whole order of Okonomiyaki.

Gojo decides to sit this one out, eyeing the Daifuku stand across the street. He’s gone here plenty of times before, but never with you—and if there's anything he wants you to try out here, it's fresh, special mochi, all soft and delectable, delicate in the way its decorated.

He takes off his blindfold, ruffling his hair. With Yuuji having gone ahead, it’s just the two of you.

“I’m going to buy Daifuku, there’s a special one I want you to taste,” he whispers excitedly, wiggling his eyebrows.

The expression on your face is the last thing he was expecting.

Your eyes are dazed, half-lidded, almost like you’re sleepy, and you blink at him twice before you’re able to fully process what he just said. You could be having a food coma right now, just standing.

“Oh, okay,” you hum, nodding as you smile, dopey, “I’ll follow.”

He considers just waiting for a bit, because he wants you to go with him. But you insist and shoo him away, telling him that the Daifuku might run out by the time Yuuji reaches the front of the Yakitori line.

So he goes, and maybe it’s a little petty, and immature, and stupid-silly, but he hates how this entire food trip has felt like a battle for your attention between him and Yuuji.

Even though he’s probably the only one who feels it.

So it’s one-sided. Definitely.

And he’s losing. Terribly.

Each individual piece of Daifuku looks majestic, pink mochi with red bean filling, sliced in the middle to leave room for a whole syrup-glazed strawberry. He orders two boxes to bring back home and an extra two pieces, one for the two of you to share and the other for Yuuji.

Gojo’s mouth is watering and he really wants to take a bite already, but you aren’t anywhere near him. So when he turns around and spots you, mid-chew on the last few bites your stomach can take from that shared Yakitori stick—he feels that pinch again. Because throughout this trip, all you’d done was split savory food with Yuuji, and all he wanted was a bit more attention, sharing half-bites with you.

When you finally meet his eyes across the street, signature blue amidst bright reds and neon greens, he’s pouting, and he hopes he’s making it very obvious that he wants (needs) you to go to him.

Your eyes widen before crossing the street, Yuuji right on your heel.

“Whoah, Gojo Sensei! That looks good!” Yuuji’s voice booms, earning a few looks.

Gojo holds one Daifuku on each hand, the other two boxes tucked in a plastic bag hanging by his elbow.

“It’s their special one!” He smiles at Yuuji, handing it over.

You look at him curiously, head tilted to the side as you watch him closely—how his smile doesn’t really reach his eyes.

Once Yuuji moves out of earshot, his series of ‘mmm’s’ blending in with the bustle of market chatter, you face Gojo and open your mouth wide, “Aaaah,”

Gojo doesn’t move for the first few seconds, but you meet in the middle eventually, his hand inching towards feeding you while you move your head closer. He keeps his palm open under your chin, cupping it to serve as a catch tray for any filling that might spill out.

There’s something about the look of you, half-sleepy and asking to be fed, that makes him feel warm and fuzzy—like that pinching feeling earlier never existed. Like he’d gladly do this everyday if you asked for it.

The soft, plush exterior of the mochi touches your lips, and you bite, the filling oozing out just enough for you to get a good portion of it. Flavors of red bean and strawberry hit your palate, and the filling doesn’t leak, but the syrup coating the strawberry catches onto your nose when you move away.

At the tip of your nose is a shiny red spot, glistening under the busy lights. The expression on your face is pleased, content—your head doing that side-to-side sway whenever you like the taste of something.

“Mmm,” you smile at him, “it’s yummy.”

And he doesn’t know what it is, if it’s the look you’re giving him, or if it's something in the air tonight, but he feels warm and full and still very much like he wants to kiss you.

So he decides, damn all the passersby.

He does one quick scan around him, making sure that Yuuji, at the very least, is away from the immediate vicinity. And when it’s all clear, he leans in.

Gojo kisses you on the nose in the middle of a busy street food road, and his lips are soft, almost feather-light, swooping in quickly before anyone can notice. You’re stunned into silence, but the moment you come to, he’s already swiped the strawberry syrup off you.

His cheeks are starting to turn pink, the sides of his neck already as red as the signs on the food stalls. And he can tell you feel it too, with the way your sleepiness seems to have faded into what now looks like surprise.

Still cute though.

(Always will be, in his eyes).

So, ‘losing’ isn’t really a word in Gojo’s vocabulary.

But if it is, he thinks he’d gladly lose to you.

(Still not to Yuuji though. He maybe still has to keep an eye out for that one).

thank you notes: to niku for being there always!! from answering my questions, brainstorming together, and just all-around everything!! col wouldn't be what it is now without you!! i love u, i hope i gave your love for food justice, niku!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

1K notes · View notes

meowzfordayz · 8 months ago

Text

how they speak up for you — mitsuri, shinobu, kyojuro, sanemi, muichiro

Author’s Note: short and sweet, and hopefully a lil funny too. 😆

how they speak up for you — mitsuri, shinobu, kyojuro, sanemi, muichiro

Kanroji Mitsuri x Reader, Kocho Shinobu x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tokito Muichiro x Reader

Word Count: ~800

CW: explicit language, mild sexual content

Emergency Request Fulfilled: could you write comfort for when Their S/o like absolutely hates speaking up for themselves, like someone could be walking all over them and they'd be like "Oh, its fine" bc conflict= worst enemy? I would like to request Muichiro (love him sm) and Sanemi if that's okay, and the rest you can decide (-if you want to add more.)

~faqs~

Mitsuri will be all over the situation (in a good way, ofc 😌)

“Baby, didn’t you want your drink hot?” —> she’s already staring daggers at the barista who made your drink 😒

“Hm?”

You do your best to conceal the pinch of your eyebrows, as well as the goosebumps raising on your arms 🥶

“I thought cold drinks made you cold, and you don’t like being cold?”

… “Hm?”

She’s not buying your nonchalance 🙃

“That’s it.” Uh oh. “I’m getting you your drink made right.”

😳🫣🫠

“Nonono, Mitsuri, it’s fiiine.” 😭

Arms crossed, her lips purse, eyes narrowed as you weakly grin and take a big sip 😄

“If you won’t let me get you another one, then at least wear my sweater?”

🤯 “Okay!” 🤭

So maybe she’s wearing a cropped tank top underneath — you’re only a mere mortal after all

— #oops my thirst made an appearance 😅

Short girlfriend = scary girlfriend

And that’s a compliment 😎

Shinobu doesn’t need height, bulk, or a dick to defend you

Her scathing tongue and unnerving stare are plenty

Not to mention, she’ll go full Karen if need be, but the more eloquent, calculating, deceptively sweet version 😌

She can make anyone feel like a complete idiot in 2-3 sentences, give or take

Which does include you, but you don’t argue too often 😅

Basically:

It’s highkey hot when she speaks up for you 🤭

But it may or may not make you cry when her sharpness is directed toward you 🥲

Fortunately, you in distress is also one of few things that immediately softens her — at least, when she’s the reason for it 🥺

Kyojuro always tries to solve your problems for you

Not bc he thinks you’re incapable, and not w/o your expressed consent/prior communication

But he just hates seeing you unhappy, uncomfortable, unsafe — really anything that isn’t grinning and laughing

He understands there’s a time and place for more difficult and painful emotions, but why on earth wouldn’t he go out of his way to ensure those times and places are as few and far between as possible????? 🤨

So, obvi, he more than willingly goes out of his way ☺️

“Do you want me to say something?” his quiet breath warms your ear, softening the frustration growing in your chest

“I dunno,” you sigh, gesturing hopelessly at the person who’d just cut you in line, “We’re all going to the same place anyway.”

“True,” he shrugs, “But that was quite rude and noticeable of them.”

“Do you want to say something?” you tease, elbowing his side with amused fondness

“Not if it discomforts you.”

“It wouldn’t discomfort me,” you mumble, cheeks darkening nonetheless, “You’re so cute.”

Albeit, you aren’t sure whether to feel proud or embarrassed when he somehow intimidates the person who cut you into leaving altogether 😅

On one hand, you know Sanemi has your back ☺️

On the other hand, you aren’t 100% positive that that’s a good thing 😬

“I swear, does that bitch even know I exist?!” 😤

… 🫣

“I bet she doesn’t! Otherwise she wouldn’t dare treat you like-” 😤

“And this is why she doesn’t know you exist.” 🥲

“Pardon?” 😐

“Sanemi, I love you, and I so appreciate how ready to go to war you are for me, but-”

“Ooh darling, you have no idea. Go to war? I will be the war for you.” 😤

“So sweet,” your eyes roll, “How about you just let me handle it?”

“And how are you handling it?” he scoffs, “With smiley face emojis?” 🙄

…

“You deserve kindness and honesty. Not her manipulative bitch shit.”

“I’ll block her.”

“You what?!” 😳

“Would that suffice?” 😅

“Actually… yeah.” Sanemi is very surprised. Gushing now, “I’m so fucking proud of you.” 🥰

It’s kind of alarming when Muichiro speaks up for you

Bc you get a faint taste of what he was like before he’d really opened up to love 😕

And that Tokito Muichiro is sharp and cold as steel w/ a -139% tolerance for bullshit

Impossible to impress 😬

But your Muichiro hugs you when you’re feeling low, rests his chin on your shoulder while you do your best to draft a stern, confident text msg to your asshole “friend”, and is more than happy to tell you what he would do were he in your shoes

… you usually ignore his advice 😅

Buuut sometimes he reaches over and hits SEND before you can stop him 🫠

“MUI! I was going to delete some of that!” 😭

“Nah, it’s great as is.” 😎

#headcanons #modern au #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kanroji mitsuri #mitsuri x reader #kocho shinobu #shinobu x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x reader #tokito muichiro #muichiro x reader

848 notes · View notes

saleeba · 1 year ago

Text

fool ; jude bellingham

summary ♡ betting on the phenomenon of unrequited feelings, you and jude have never dared to make the first move with the other until a reunion forces new questions to be answered.

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, cursing, kissing, both jude & reader are pining idiots, fingering, p in v sex, marking, missionary, unprotected sex (jude pulls out but still pls practise safe sex!!)

a/n ♡ she's baaaack :D but first☝🏽alexa play fool by nct 127 !!!! the lyric "you’re a goddess but i’m a fool, what should i do?" was written for this fic in particular i just know it was :] anyway hehe this fic is based off this request so tysmm to anon for sending such an exciting prompt !! i hope yous enjoy 🫶🏽💗 WAIT P.S this isn’t proofread bc i lowkey am not rocking with it so i didn’t wanna put myself thru having to read it again & again … im sorry for any mistakes :’)

you had just gotten off work to a stream of relentless texts from your best friends’ groupchat — phone pinging off the rails whilst you were on shift, muffled buzzes from your bag making you wonder what on earth was worth blowing up in that whatsapp group on a random friday afternoon.

on the train back home, you tap open the green app, anticipating yourself easily spending the entire journey catching up on the three hundred-plus texts from your closest mates. you decide to start right from the beginning of the influx, thumb scrolling nonstop and eyes blurring from the rapid movement until they focus back on the screen where you stop, finally having reached the destination of the first text that set it all off.

it was from none other than jude bellingham, and you were nearly embarrassed by the way your face instantly lit up upon reading his message. the groupchat’s golden boy had popped up after weeks of minimal contact, asking if he could take everyone for a night out tomorrow to make up for it, stating that he finally has some small gaps of free time between hectic pre-season schedules to allow him to do so.

it honestly warmed your heart that the first thing he wants away from football is to see you all. you’d been a band of good friends since the first year of secondary school, contact not necessarily strained as you all had a lot of love for each other but rather unspokenly reduced after leaving school two years ago and falling into busy university or career ventures.

instead of scrolling through to read and react to the plethora of follow-up texts after his, you ignore them and jump straight to typing your reply to his invitation, casting aside that nagging voice asking you: doesn’t that seem too desperate?

no, right? i’m just accepting his invitation, getting straight to the point, the convo ended half an hour ago anyway. you’re arguing with yourself now, feeling the need to give unnecessary excuses to nonexistent accusations. if you were to be honest with yourself, you were always self-conscious of the way you behaved around jude, even now debating on whether to add your signature heart emoji or if it’d come across as you trying too hard given your feelings for him; albeit them being feelings that no one knows about, not even him. you made sure for it to be that way.

with a mental note to get over yourself, you send an affirmative ‘i’m up for it!’, signature heart included, and quickly shut off your phone. heart beating so rapidly, you scolded yourself for getting so worked up over a mere reply and for definitely not getting over yourself. god knows how you’re going to handle seeing him in person.

a sudden double buzz from your device does nothing to calm you down, instead dampening your hands with sweat when you grab it and see a pair of messages from him.

jude 🌟: heyy i’m so glad you can make it tomorrow :)

jude 🌟: can’t wait to see you!! ❤❤

he had messaged you separately for some reason and he had included two hearts… the overthinking starts for you again, without even beginning to think about what to reply this time, and you question why he couldn’t have just replied to you in the groupchat or why he couldn’t have just left the end of the messages with a ‘x’ like he usually does or why he would even say what he said in the last message. mind frantic and unable to clear itself, you thank yourself for having your read receipts turned off so you can have your mini meltdown without worrying about jude knowing you’d seen his messages multiple minutes ago. god, you were down so bad.

you force yourself to open the messages app and send the most casual reply you can type.

you: can’t wait to see you too! ❤

you try to keep it short, sweet and nonchalant even if your fingers are itching to type more – more about how much you had missed him, more about what he was planning to wear tomorrow night so that maybe you could match your own outfit with him, more about your true, unfiltered feelings for him. it’s pathetic really; you hadn’t seen him in two years and the first thing you wanted to do was throw yourself at him, spilling all the secrets you’d been holding close for so many years. you leave it at that, put your phone on do not disturb mode and head on home, waiting for the long hours of friday evening to pass and saturday night to arrive.

***

and so saturday night rolls around and you just about finish touching up your makeup and smoothing out your dark blue dress before the doorbell rings, and you’re whisked away to the club by a couple of your girlfriends.

as soon as you step your high heels into the building, you’re met with the sight of flowing booze and the noise of noughties r&b beats bouncing around the brightly lit walls. dragged by the hands of your friends, you find yourself standing next to a booth at the back of the club, the rest of the group now welcoming you latecomers with a loud cheer.

“finally, girls. you took your time!” one of your male friends remarks, ushering you all to sit down.

“oh god, what have we missed?” you beam, trying to scan the group amongst the strobing lights to catch a glimpse of the person you were really there for.

“nah, you’re just in time because… first round’s on mister madrid!”

the callout breaks your friend group into a raucous holler as your gaze fixes onto the six foot-one footballer who stands up with an amused grin and a sigh of feigned defeat. your heart quickens and your smile turns into a state of near disbelief over how good jude looks right now – graphic white t-shirt hugging his biceps in all the right places and hanging over a pair of smart-casual black trousers.

“yeah, yeah, anything for my groupies,” he winks at no one in particular but your brain almost convinces you that he was looking at you while doing it. you send a shy smile his way just in case but what he says next has your mouth running dry. “help us out, will ya, y/n?”

you hesitate for a second too long for your liking, stumbling over your words while your friends peer at you. “uh… uh-huh, yeah, of course.” you answer as quick as you can, standing up on your feet slowly as to not trip over your now-shaking legs and send yourself flying into jude, and to avoid embarrassing yourself more than you think you already have.

he responds with a grateful smile and you follow him to the bar where he places an order for a round of drinks and some shots to be delivered to the group by the two of you. there’s an odd unfamiliarity to the silence between you both and you realise that you aren’t normally this quiet around jude, and neither is he around you; you would always joke that he’d be eligible to talk for england if he wasn’t already playing football for them. he’d retort with a comment about how his ears could almost fall off with the amount of chatting you do, and you’d dryly reply with a ‘well, they’re too big for your head anyway. look at the size of them!’ the pair of you were always as thick as thieves in the eyes of everyone else. which is why you didn’t expect it to be like this, especially after two years of not seeing each other – there was so much you wanted to catch up on from his world and so much you wanted to share from yours. you decidedly gain some courage and take the initiative to spark some conversation, get something going at least.

“soo, how have you been, then?” you’re both facing the bar, your head barely tilting in jude’s direction to indicate that yes, it is him that you’re talking to and not some random like he assumes you are with the way you’re positioned away from him, eyes just about turning to steal a glance of his figure but not to hold eye contact. “how’s la vida española?”

jude finds amusement in your sudden flaunt of the spanish language, a smile breaking out on his face, unseen to you since he’s still facing the same direction that you are, preoccupying his eyes with the myriad of bottles on the shelves while his mind searches for an apt reply.

“yeah, it’s been great, i think i wanna stay there forever,” jude laughs, his fingers tapping on the black surface of the bar. you can’t help the selfish feeling of your heart dropping at his confession. “i miss you, though, y’know… a lot.”

this one confession forces your whole body to turn itself towards him, eyes now chasing after his to seek some form of sincerity, to see if he was just messing about or if he really meant what he just said. he shifts his head to face you now, a bashful look painted onto his features. the expectant silence says it all really; of course i mean it.

you gulp and decide to break the quietness with a sarcastic, jesting “ugh…”, jude’s face dropping at what he thinks is genuine disgust from you. you realise your attempt to denounce the awkwardness has backfired.

“oh my god, you dickhead, i’m joking,” how is it that mere moments ago you were shaking at the sheer real-life presence of him but now you’d transformed into having this confident playfulness? and all of it without a drop of alcohol in your system as well – you’re quietly proud of yourself. “i missed you too, jude… a lot.” you coyly repeat his words.

upon your turn of the confession, the bartender sets down your drink orders and the two of you wordlessly carry the trays over to where your friends are situated, the silence way more comfortable now that you’re both basking in assurance, unbeknown to the other that your hearts were racing at a hundred miles per hour.

***

not even two hours and an innumerable amount of shots later, you’re all a drunken mess; definitely not a surprise to a single one of you. what is a surprise is the way you’re strewn across jude, right leg wrapped around his left, head on his chest, swirling and sipping from what’s clearly an empty glass to any sober, sane person. you grumble and mutter a complaint about the lack of liquor in the booth, taking it upon yourself to head to the bar and order another round for everyone.

“i’ll come with you,” jude announces over the pounding of the music, standing up so quickly that his next five steps are staggered and he has to cling onto your arm to steady himself. “i’m fine, i’m okay.” he assures nobody that asked.

the two of you stumble your way into the path of the bar, determined to drink until the sun comes up and forget every strand of stress until the hangovers come knocking. jude’s soft grip on your arm has you being led in the opposite direction all of a sudden, though.

“uhm, where are we going?” you question, head still turned to where the bar is located, about to ask him if he was so hammered he couldn’t walk in a simple straight line to get to where you’d planned to go. “jude?”

he’s silent, save for humming his way to his desired destination, and you question if he even knows where he’s leading you. before you make the choice of going along with him or leaving his clearly confused self to go cop your next cocktail, you find yourself in the disabled toilets, pushed up against the sink with the door not even shut properly, gasping at how rough jude is handling your body compared to his soft touches from before, and how close his face is to yours, warm breath fanning the skin of your lips. you weren’t strictly against it all but how the hell have you ended up like this? The alcohol and the questions come at you fast, dizzying your brain but you can’t help but feel so keenly anticipative.

“i’m sorry, i just…” he pulls away from you, eyes fluttering closed so he can re-evaluate his actions, exhaling through his nose as if he was letting go of all doubts before continuing. “am i okay to do this?” he places his hands on your waist, pushing himself back into your space, his full lips more or less about to take yours. you have to refrain from letting the effects of alcohol take over your tongue and uttering back with a breathy ‘you can do whatever you want to me’.

instead, you answer with an earnest, eager nod, inviting his lips to finally do that one thing you had been dreaming of for so long, to kiss yours so silly that they’re left with the imprint of him. and jude does just that.

his mouth takes in yours so determinedly, shyness and hesitation now long-dissolved feelings for you both as your hands find home around the back of his neck, pushing his head further onto you, feeling the need to taste him more and more until you’re both consumed by each other.

it’s a messy makeout, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but it’s oh so hot, the way he gasps into your mouth from breathlessness and pleasure, running and gripping his large hands over the material adorning your waist and hips as the need to rip it off you nearly overtakes him. to you, he’s so utterly intoxicating that a gallon of alcohol would pale in comparison to how dizzy his skin on yours makes you feel.

you release a moan at the meagre thought of jude all over your body, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue over yours, filthy noises of wetness and carnality from the both of you reaching high pitch as jude somehow simultaneously pushes you against the sink and pulls you against his chest, his manhandling of you getting you even more hot and bothered before you’re both interrupted by the hub of people passing by and huddling right outside the bathroom, their self-occupied shouts and cheers dragging you out of the bubble that the two of you had wrapped yourselves in, almost sobering you up on the spot.

you push jude out of your way, gentle but abrupt, and give him a look of apologetic regret. “i-i’m sorry,” you say, jitterily walking past him and exiting the room without a second glance or word, heading straight to the booth where your friends are hollering and hurraying, occupied with shot-drinking contests.

your girlfriends offer to go home with you when you lie and tell them you’re not feeling very well, but you decline them, instead telling them to have fun on your behalf and letting them know that you’ll try to text them once you get home safely. you can tell they’re confused by your shaken state and the absence of jude but you grab your bag and make your exit before the interrogation can even begin to brew.

you manage to grab a taxi back home, surprised by how competent you are despite the alcohol in your bloodstream and confusion in your brain. on the way there, you can’t stop the bouncing of your knee nor the racing of your psyche, asking yourself how and why whatever went down with jude went down like that. you curse at yourself for being so impulsive in starting and finishing the whole ordeal with him in the way that you did – you don’t know if it’s the empty, depressive drunk thoughts or just clarity from the whole jude thing that makes you feel like there’s no coming back from this at all. you feel like crawling into your bed and never coming out from it ever again.

the taxi driver has to call for your attention multiple times until you reach earth again and pay him the journey’s fee. you go skulking all the way up to your front door, only letting out a breath that you feel like you’ve been holding since the beginning of the night once the door shuts behind you.

the rest of the night is quiet and orderly for you, telling yourself to not invite any more chaos into your brain and to simply drink some water and to go to sleep. waking up tomorrow morning is going to be painful in more ways than one.

***

you spend the rest of the weekend nursing a ferocious hangover and a frazzled heart, only contacting your friends to tell them that you got home fine and to joke that you probably need a century or two for this hangover to be gone. you thank the high heavens that they don't bring up the topic of you and jude

you try not to think too much about jude, you really do, but sunday night has a couple of taps landing you on the instagram app and you learn that he’s already back in spain, pictures of him in training sliding across your phone screen on his story along with selfies with his teammates. usually, you tap that small red heart at the bottom and hope that he sees it amongst his millions and millions of notifications, a tiny ritual of yours that now has you feeling so pathetic that you don’t dare to do it anymore.

running a hand over your weary face, you set your phone down and opt to nap the night away, finding comfort in the non-intrusion from your friends and the no contact from jude, hoping to keep yourself busy and distracted with whatever the work week brings.

a ring from the doorbell rips through your flat just as you’re organising your pillows, forcing you to stop what you’re doing and ponder who could be at the door on a sunday while the clock ticks some minutes past one o’clock. you don’t recollect ordering any food nor are you expecting a delivery, especially not this late.

trudging your way to the front door, you open it to find jude bellingham standing there and you feel an instant pang of regret, wishing you had peeked through the window to see who it could be, wishing you had pretended to not be in, wishing the ground would open up right now and swallow you whole – anything to escape the confrontation that you’re now having to face. your face heats up with embarrassment and nerves but you manage to rupture the silence before your mouth can turn dry.

“j-jude, hi,” you try and keep your greeting as polite and cordial as you can, even when all you really want to do is to chase him off your doorstep. “what are you doing here?”

your query has jude visibly gulping, hands fiddling with each other as he attempts to hold eye contact with you, his vision a bit blurry from exhaustion. “y/n… sorry, can i come in?”

you oblige, holding the door open wide before you guide him to the living room and invite him to sit down on the plushness of your sofa, settling yourself on the opposite end of it. you silently prompt him to say what he came here to say with a nod of your head.

“uhm, i’m sorry for turning up unannounced, and so late…” ever the courteous. “i had to sneak away from the lads and catch the last flight to here so it was all a bit down to the wire.” he lets out a small, uneasy laugh.

you cut off his rambling with a curt “what do you want, jude?” you don’t mean for it to sound so rude but you still hold the attitude of wanting to get this over and done with, already feeling annoyance at yourself for even letting him into your home.

“right, yeah, i actually wanted to talk about what happened on saturday,” he goes back to fiddling with this thumbs, eyebrows furrowed but he avoids looking at you this time. not that you can blame him because your own vision shifts to anywhere but his direction. “i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable a-and please tell me if this is inappropriate, but i haven’t stopped thinking about last night, i haven't stopped thinking about you, i-i’m sorry, i know this is all so silly and you probably don’t even feel the same bu-”

you stop him right there, this time with good reason as you can’t bear holding back your real emotions, not when he’s practically given you the green light to spill the contents of your heart.

“no, jude, i didn’t feel uncomfortable at all,” you assure him, gaze now on the footballer in front of you and you almost can’t believe the words leaving your mouth right now. “i wanted it to happen, i’m glad it happened, you know, i think i’ve had dreams about it happening,” you try and offset any tension with a timid chuckle before turning quite pensive. “i really like you, jude, i have for a long time… god, sorry, this is so embarrassing.” you return to making light of the situation you’ve put yourself in, the timidness sinking back in as quick as the relief lifts you up.

jude moves closer to your now-cowering body, knees touching as your heartbeat surges with worry and self-consciousness all wrapped up into a tight, miserable ball. he puts his sweat-dampened hands into yours and squeezes in silent assurance before raising them up to his lips and laying a chaste kiss on the heated skin.

he can’t help but break out into a sweet smile, eyes threatening to crinkle at the edges. your face is still sketched with tension and now confusion has joined the mix.

“i can’t tell you how long i’ve waited to hear that from you, how much i needed to hear it,” your eyes meet his, widening in surprise a little. “i’m a fool for not telling you sooner… i like you, y/n, i really like you.” he repeats your own words back at you, leaning in with a smattering of amusement dancing in his vision.

“can i kiss you?” the question leaves your lips faster than you can even process it in your brain.

jude wastes no time in replying with a firm pressing of his mouth on yours, deepening it within seconds, the need to cement his feelings for you being told through the way he cradles your head in his hand, leaning you back onto the arm of the sofa to further intensify the kiss. your lips move along with his, the soft weight of his body pressed against yours making you whine into his mouth in ecstasy.

he lifts off of you with a puckering of his swollen lips, the both of you taking the chance to draw in some air and attempt to regulate your breathing pattern.

“please take me to the bedroom,” you beg, breathless from the sheer sight of his dark eyes and pretty pout. there’s no fight nor denial from jude as he picks you up and prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, quickening his pace once you point in the direction of your room.

he lays you down on the bed so gently, lips latching onto yours once again before they travel down your jaw and over the warm skin of your neck. the light touch of his fluttering eyelashes married with the pressure of his soft lips has your head spinning, hands tentatively laid on top of your sheets since you don’t trust yourself to not grab his head and bring it back to your lips. his fingers tinker with the waistband of your pyjama trousers, stretching it off your skin before he asks permission to peel them down your legs.

once they’re cast away in some corner of your bedroom, jude divides your legs by the underside of your knees, tucking himself into the now available space between them, turning onto his side and resting on his left forearm. he leaves a small kiss over your covered cunt and you try your best to not just clamp his head in between your thighs and smother him with your growing wetness here and now.

“need to get you ready, baby,” the sudden mention of the petname has you throbbing, squirming even more when he traces a line from your clit down to where there’s a small damp spot forming on the dark material of your underwear.

“jude, please,” you whine out, lifting your hips in a desperate bid to get the boy to strip your lower half completely.

he shushes you in his own charming way, making sure to comply with your demand by getting up onto his knees and discarding your soaked panties in a matter of seconds, the cold air generated by his large hands whipping them off you hits your exposed pussy, making you hiss through gritted teeth.

jude returns to the gap between your spread legs, sitting back but still on his knees, his higher position causing you to shift onto resting your body weight on the palms of your hands in order to peer at his actions – which start with him re-tracing that same teasing line from your aching clit to your hole with his thumb, the feeling now so intense on your unclothed skin. he hums in what sounds to be satisfaction when you throw your head back in pleasure, taking it in his favour to slip his index finger into the tightness of your pussy.

you release a guttural groan at the feeling of finally having some part of him inside you; you of course don’t want this to be the only part but you’re still so very grateful, so fucking grateful he’s now rubbing at your clit in delicious rounds, thumb tracing circle after circle while his fingers form a pair, pistoning in and out of you so easily due to the way your cunt douses itself with every move of jude’s.

“fuck, baby,” jude moans at the sight of his soaked digits every time they barely pull out of that pretty pussy, his thumb torturing your sensitive bud increasingly so, the cries and whimpers spilling from your lips an incentive for him. “feel so good and tight around my fingers, can’t imagine how you’ll feel around my dick.”

his words have you absolutely reeling, writhing against his hand to try and chase that moment of release.

“please, jude, i’m so close,” you’re warning and demanding at the same time, almost begging him to not stop or even think about moving his fingers out of you. “god, please, i need it,”

jude suddenly retracts both of his hands, leaving you bare and empty. “no way, baby, need to have you cumming on my cock or not cumming at all,” he comments with a shake of his head, denying you the opportunity of leaking your cum over his hand. upon seeing your bewildered face, he makes up for it by putting on a show of licking your juices clean off his fingers, the digits popped inside his mouth and dragged right back out with a low moan, him praising the way you taste.

“move up the bed for me, angel,” he orders, watching you while he stands up and unclothes himself as quick as he can. you scoot backwards, legs still spread open like they’ve been locked in that position, before pulling your oversized t-shirt off of you, chest void of a restricting bra . “good girl,” he praises, crawling up to hover his body over your laying one, cock in hand as your legs come to wrap around him. “are you still okay with this? we can stop at any point, okay?”

the sincerity of his voice has you melting. some would remark that the bar is in hell for you but the truth is that you hadn’t been with anyone like this for more months than you could count on your hands. you've been touch-starved and lacking words of affirmation for so long, and you needed something to be only about you for once.

“i’m more than okay with this,” you smile up at him, nodding to make your approval fully known. “and yes, i know i can stop you if i need to.”

jude reciprocates the same smile before leaning in and smothering your lips with his, pushing his cock into your tight wetness, so tight that your pussy almost pushes him back out, not used to being penetrated by something so thick.

“oh my god!” the feeling of tightness/fullness has you both gasping out the same thing at the same time, erupting into quiet giggles when the two of you realise your matching reactions.

jude’s mouth finds its way back home in the embrace of your lips and you swear this is heaven, the way his cock slides in and out of your sopping cunt, set at such a perfect pace, the slight friction causing you to grow even wetter – the filth of it all contrasts so well with the sweetness of his muffled moans and tender kisses on your neck, moving down onto your collarbones and tits.

a particularly harsh thrust of his cock has your back arching, chest pushed up to his heated face, and he takes this golden opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipple, spending a good while sucking and tugging on the skin around it. you’re amazed at how his cock doesn’t relent inside you, the speed still so quick and consistent even when he’s so occupied in painting splotches on your tits with his mouth.

“there,” he pants out, pulling his head back and marvelling at his own creation. “now, there’s no doubt that you’re really mine.” the smile he gives you is a killer.

you whine at his declaration of you belonging to him, scratching at his shoulders and calling out his name to indicate that it’s all too much for you, that you’re so, so close to cumming on his cock and really giving him what he wants rather than pleasing yourself. you figure that’s you gone now; you’re more willing to put the boy above your own needs because you’re down that fucking bad for him.

“fuck, jude, i’m gonna cum!” you sob, your moans becoming more frequent and higher pitched, legs starting to shake from the intoxicating mix of exhaustion and delight. you’re frantically chanting “please, please, please” into his mouth which parts to swallow your whimpering, wet lips kissing your trembling ones.

“go on, baby, cum for me, cum all over this cock,” he groans out, eyes squeezing shut when the feeling of your pussy clamping down tightly on his thickness proves too much to handle, face finding refuge in the crook of your neck. he knows you don’t need his permission, he would’ve let you orgasm as many times as you wanted to, would’ve let you use him like your own personal sex toy, but the words were only there to keep you going when his hips felt like faltering – he needed you cumming on his cock like he promised before, and he wasn’t about to fuck it up himself.

a final scream rips from your throat as you cum hard around jude, pussy clenching and pulsating around his cock so sporadically you thought you were having two orgasms at once. jude can’t handle it anymore, pulling out with a myriad of moans as he pumps his shaft with a hand, decorating the expanse of your lower abdomen with warm, white liquid. you’re still squirming, slowly trying to wheeze out the remaining whimpers from your lungs which you’re finding hard to do with the way jude pants and moans above you, the boy so spent he can’t help but breathe like he hasn’t had access to air for the past hour.

he flops down by your side, arms and legs sprawled like a starfish, chest rising and falling as he attempts to recuperate from the mindblowing sex you two just had. the image is so unserious that you can’t stifle your giggles but you decide to take another step of courage to lay on your side resting your head on his shoulder, fingers stroking his abs and playing with the curly hairs of his happy trail.

the room is quiet now with the scent of sex wafting through your nostrils on occasion but it’s the most comfortable silence you’ve experienced with jude, the feeling of his hot skin on yours so soothing to you.

after a period of panting, jude clears his throat and your ears prick up at the presence of sound. he turns his head towards you and you lift yourself up and off him out of instinct – you want full attention on him.

“i don’t want this to be a one-time kinda thing, y’know,” he proclaims, biting his lip from saying too much in one go.

“what, is this your way of saying you want round two already?” you joke, nose crinkling at the way he rolls his eyes playfully.

“shut up,” he delivers a poke to your side. “i mean, well, i don’t want either one of us to see this as a spur-of-the-moment thing, i just…” you look at him expectantly, silently telling him to continue. “i want you to be my girlfriend, y/n.”

you’re nearly knocked back by his words, wondering if they’re real or if you’re simply just hearing things. you thought dialogue like that, coming from him, was only reserved for your imagination, kept secret and only spoken to you in late-night mental scenarios that would comfort you on your way to slumberland.

you let out a laugh that’s an odd mix of relief and disbelief, quickly replying “yes, yes, of course” to his awaiting face, which releases a look of relief itself before jude captures your lips with such passion you’re both knocked back onto the plush pillows, giggling into each other’s mouths until your hands find themselves running down the defined muscles of his abdomen and over his hardening cock.

#girlies i’ve never had alcohol in my life so i hope the way i wrote reader & jude being drunk was ok !!! 🫶🏽#then again i’ve never had sex in my life and i write extensively about it so u know . 😭😭😭#guys imagine if before every smut fic i wrote a disclaimer like ‘guys i-i’ve never had sex before but i hope i did okay with this 🥺🥺' LMAO #ALSO omg im sorry abt the inconsistencies in tone + tempo i legit wrote this over a 5 month period + came back to it at times when i didnt #feel like writing + i was just tryna get to the good bit iykwim ( ͡ ° ͜ʖ ͡ °)#˗ˏˋ 📝 ˎˊ˗#˗ˏˋ 💬 ˎˊ˗#jude bellingham #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x y/n #football imagine #footballer smut #footballer imagine

1K notes · View notes

jinwoosbabyboo · 2 months ago

Text

Nika's Open Mic Night!

𝕎𝕖𝕝𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕪 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕟 𝕔𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕓/𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕠𝕓𝕚𝕟

Calling all the LADS writers of Tumblr

Please read → Everyone and anyone is free to join. Write something for the prompt and tag someone who you'd like to see participate. You can do it in a reblog to this post or make your own post. Your character can be a self-insert, your MC, or an OC If you make your own post please add me in your taglist or tag it with #nikasopenmicnight I love reading you guys work. I'm going to be making an ongoing list with links to all the stories of everyone who chooses to join. There is no deadline have fun !

Okay I'll shut up now here's the prompt

the prompt: running into your main lads man (boyfriend) while you're out with your second favorite lads man (as a friend) and how they would react. [Credit: Anon]

I'll go first....Who's next?

This was supposed to be a quick trip, in and out, get what I need and leave. I should’ve gone to a different store because I knew better than to think I'd make a ‘quick trip’ to target. Dumbass. Nothing was ever a quick trip when me and Raf hung out. So here I am buying all new decor for my library at home. Rafayel stood by giving his opinion even when I didn't ask for it “How many blankets does one girl need?”

“There’s no such thing as too many blankets” I giggled as I squat down to chose a fluffy red blanket. I knew Sylus would like this no matter how much he likes to act like he doesn't care for them I see how he throws one over his lap when it’s within reach. “Thinking of me?” I jump at the sudden sound of his voice looking up to see his tall frame looming over me. It wasn’t uncommon for him to pop-up on me considering he has my location. I couldn’t help the smile that split my face in two as I looked up at him. I stood up and shoved the blanket in this direction. “What do you think?” His hand gently ran up and down the fabric, but his intense stare was fixated over my shoulder “It’s nice”

I turned to see Raf giving Sylus a just as intense stare, but instead of a frown like Sylus he had a smile on his face. His smile didn’t reach his eyes and I could practically feel the lightning cracking between them. Am I in the middle of some kind of pissing contest? Men. “Sylus stop being rude he's my friend” I poked him in his side which made him jolt, but he finally looked at me. His gaze softened slightly as our eyes locked. “Princess i’m not doing anything” He poked me in my forehead and I swatted his hand away; he knows I hate when he does that. “Don’t play dumb” I scowled at him and all he did was give me that sexy ass smirk. Sometimes I wish he was ugly …. no I don’t. Sylus put his gaze back on Rafayel and pulled me impossibly close to him by my waist. “Apologies if I'm interrupting, but we have an appointment with a tailor that we can’t miss”

Why is he lying? This is the first i’m hearing of said appointment. I struggled in his hold trying to pry his fingers from my waist, but he gave me a few small squeezes making me snort with laughter.

Raf didn’t even try to argue he threw his hands up in surrender “No worries I have paintings to finish” he grabbed his items that he tossed in the cart, gave my nose a pinch along with a quick “I’ll talk to you later” and sauntered off. The second Rafayel was out of sight I managed to wiggle my way out of Sylus' iron grip “What appointment are you talking about?”

“There isn’t one I just didn’t like the way he looks at you” He said in a matter-of-fact tone as if I was supposed to know that. “How exactly does he look at me?”

“The same way I look at you” I narrowed my eyes at him inquisitively; he returned the same look and I knew he was mocking me. “So you don’t trust me” It was more of a statement rather than a question.

“And here I thought your deductive reasoning skills were improving” he shifted his weight as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I trust you sweetie I don’t trust him he wants to be more than a friend” something was off although he seemed annoyed I could tell that it wasn’t me he was upset with. All of his tells were on full display by the way he avoided eye contact with and how his fingers absentmindedly tapped on his bicep. “Are you jealous?” I teased poking his chest repeatedly. He glowered at me as I tried and failed to stop the evil grin that spread across my face. “You’re enjoying this a little too much for my liking”

“You’re so cute when you're jealous” I reached up to pinch his cheek but as always he grabbed my wrist before I could even get close. “Enough” he’s so sick of my shit, but it’s not like he’s going anywhere. "Don't worry no one can steal me from you"

tagging w/ no pressure ;

@who-mentioned-rhys-larsen @irandial @ollieneedsamilkshake @phoenixiaxia @luxis-journal

@deepspacenova @world-of-hearts @comatosebunny09 @leighsartworks216 @awesomephilosophus

@ersharyzst

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus lads #sylus lnds #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #lnds rafayel #l&ds rafayel #lads rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #lads #lnds #nikaaaaimagine #nikasopenmicnight #nikaaaajusttalkin

166 notes · View notes

rosyhoneydew · 6 months ago

Text

I Simply Say (Baby)

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek | Day 2: nicknames and terms of endearment.

“Uh, hey, I’m gonna take this for a sec, you want another beer when I come back, Eddie?” Buck asks, already en route to the kitchen.

“Yeah, thanks,” Eddie says, a knowing smirk on his face.

There’s not really any need for the secrecy, Eddie saw the ‘Tommy ❤️’ contact light up on Buck’s phone, and even if he hadn’t, there aren’t many people Buck would pick up for on guys’ night. But, he still hasn’t quite gotten around to filling Chris in yet. It’s not like he tells the kid about everybody he dates, but this is Tommy and he’s their friend and it would feel too weird keeping that from him.

Chris got back from Eddie’s parents’ place just over a week ago, and Eddie’s pretty intent on making things feel, as much as possible, like he never left. Buck gets it. Chris leaving was shitty for him, he can’t bring himself to think about how hard these past weeks have been for Eddie.

“Hey,” he sighs out as he answers the call.

“Hey.” Buck can hear the smile in his voice and it fills him with warmth. He loves that smile. “How’s guys’ night?” Tommy asks.

“Yeah, yeah it’s good.” Buck leans against the counter, ears tuning in to the light giggles he can hear from the living room. It’s felt like forever since he saw Eddie this carefree. “It’s nice. Feels like old times, you know?”

Tommy hums a response.

“Hey, you should come next time,” Buck adds.

“Me?”

Buck huffs a small laugh, “Yes, you.” He makes for the fridge, grabbing two beers and cracking them open with the phone wedged between his shoulder and ear. “I mean, Eddie would love it, Chris hasn’t seen you since he left, and that way,” he grabs his phone again, bringing it closer to his mouth like a secret, “I won’t have to miss you all night while I’m here.”

“Oh yeah? Well, it’s hard to argue with that logic.” Tommy responds.

Buck smiles, it feels good, flirting like this with Tommy. It’s so easy with the two of them, he’s not sure it’s ever gotten so good so fast with anyone else he’s dated.

“You finished up your shift?” He asks, guessing the reason Tommy called.

“Mmhm. Pretty smooth night. I’m headed home now, you going to be a bit?” Tommy asks.

“Uh, maybe?” Buck reenters the living room, carrying their drinks, to see Eddie and Chris have put away the Xbox, but already queued up a movie. “Yeah,” he amends, “definitely gonna be a little while.”

Eddie’s such a sucker for the kid right now, he’s probably planning on letting Chris stay up all night if it means spending as much time as possible with him.

Tommy laughs on the line. “All good, sweetie, have fun, okay? Tell them I say ‘hi.’”

“Buck! Hurry up, we’re hitting play,” Chris calls out.

“Okay, love you, baby,” Buck says to Tommy, quickly hanging up the phone.

He gets a few steps closer to the couch before he realizes he said all of that out loud and in front of Eddie and Chris. Oops.

“Who was that?” Chris asks, teasing note in his voice. God, that kid is more and more like his dad every day.

“Uh, that- that was Tommy. The pilot from Harbor station?”

“I remember Tommy,” Chris says. “You called him ‘baby.’”

“Yeah, uh, we’re sort of together now.” Buck sets their beers down on the coffee table for something to do.

“Like boyfriends?”

“Yep.”

“Oh,” Chris says. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Good question.

“Well, I guess I just… I didn’t want to surprise you too much?” He finally settles into his spot on the couch again.

“I don’t care who you’re dating.”

Buck laughs at that, finally feeling the tension break. There wasn’t much, Chris is a good kid, but he can’t help that knee-jerk reaction for a second when he’s telling someone new.

“Well I do care who you’re dating and I’m happy for you and Tommy,” Eddie finally chimes in, smiling between the two of them.

“You know, I thought maybe he could come over next week for guys’ night?” Buck offers.

“Sure,” Chris says, “Tommy’s really cool.”

“Yeah, he is, huh?” Buck says. Because Tommy might be the coolest, best person he knows.

“Works for me,” Eddie says, leaning over to hit play on Close Encounters, “but we are not watching Star Wars with him, again.”

Chris laughs and Buck rolls his eyes fondly as the music fades in on the TV. A few minutes later his phone chimes and lights up again with a message, I love you too, honey ❤️.

#911 abc #bucktommy #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #tevan #kinkley #bucktommy ficlet #tevan ficlet

280 notes · View notes

kaisturni · 7 months ago

Text

bewitched | m. sturniolo

→ matt x fem!reader

→ oc! created for the plot

→ plot; you and matt attend the wedding of your best friends, and he comes a realization about you that he should’ve known all along.

→ warnings; absolutely NONE. tooth aching, cavity inducing, sickly sweet fluff.

→ a/n; i’m so sorry i reread this and literally had to post

NOT PROOFREAD KINDA

——————————————————————————

“ready, man? big day today, huh?” matt shook, his best friends shoulders lovingly, excited to watch nathan get married, a sentiment you two always talked about together, the future wedding of the person that grew up beside the both of you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧

“what do you think about charlotte?” he asked you whilst taking a sip of the milkshake you were sharing at dinner.

“oh, she’s the one.” he furrowed his eyebrows at you, confused by the certainty of your statement.

“how can you be so sure, they’ve only been together six months or so?”

you looked off to the side, giggling at his question, fiddling the straw wrapper between your manicured hands.

“she’s just so right for him, y’know? i’ve never seen him do the things he does for her, for anyone. they take care of each other. call it the honeymoon phase whatever, that’s going to last with them. oh man, have you seen the way he looks at her? that never goes away. when you know you know? right?”

he shrugs his shoulders, “yeah i guess so”

he had no reason to argue with you about your reasoning for why exactly charlotte was the one for nathan,

“only time can tell” he adds

“exactly right, matty. but time is all they need”

even then you had such an optimistic look on love. it was natural, real, and easy. you had no reason to believe a love like that couldn’t exist. but to put it bluntly, he didn’t exactly have the same compass as you when it came to love. he too had no reason to not believe a love like that was real, but that wasn’t something he could tell you. his relationship with you had only been a couple of weeks down the line. matt wasn’t ready to lose you just yet, so he kept those thoughts to himself.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧

“i’ve waited for this day since i met charlotte, when you know you know, am i right?” fixing the cuff links on his slick black suit,

deja vu hit him, and he thought of your words in a conversation you had years ago,

“for sure, now get out there and marry her”

the pair hugged, and nathan disappeared out to the venue, excitedly finding his way to the altar, the ceremony was about to begin.

of course, it wasn’t just him in the room, his brothers nick and chris, and nathan’s other groomsmen were also in collective. each got to walk down the isle with a member of charlotte’s party, you included, being her maid of honor after, and him as nathan’s best man. you were the ones to introduce them, after all. he faced the mirror on the other side of him, watching the men around him mingle and laugh. he fixed his own cuff links and tie in the mirror, almost letting himself think it was his own big day.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧

the wedding party lined up, waiting for their cue to enter, you and matt being first. he hasn’t seen you yet that day, too busy scrambling; helping charlotte all day, getting ready yourself, and making sure everything was perfect for your best friend. right now, his mind could only imagine how beautiful you looked.

to be fair, he already knew how striking you were. since the day you two met, you were always the one to catch his eye. he could never focus on anyone else but you. in his mind it was young love; the love that makes you dumb, and wild, the kind that doesn’t truly last. now that years have passed you’ve been dating, and you’ve grown together, his dress shoes suddenly didn’t fit and the collar of his shirt was too tight on his neck, the thought of letting you go one day made him feel uncomfortable.

matt shook the thought out of his head, right on time to hear the music, signaling him to walk in to the ceremony.

you enter the same time he does, and his entire body felt weak at the sight of you.

matt knew you were never one to dress up, always in something casual and comfortable, unless necessary. he never gets to see you like this, the seldom times being prom and a handful of your own college formals. but nothing compared to this.

the black strapless dress hugged your skin perfectly, accentuating all your curves, paired flawlessly with white heels, yet you still fell short under his height.

your hair was neatly kept in an updo, soft curls falling in front of your face, he always loved seeing you with your hair up.

your delicate hold of the bouquet in your hands, french tips on your nails, as always.

your whole body glowed with radiance, and you met his face with a warm smile, which he gladly returned. he couldn’t help but think how strikingly perfect you looked; every detail of you he took in, there was no part of you that was a mystery to him.

matt has seen you be beautiful in every stage of life you’ve known each other, and this time it was astonishing as the first time around.

his mind trailed back to when you two were in high school and university; when you were still a girl and he got to call you that.

his girl.

but that was not the person standing in front of him, you were a woman now.

his woman.

you brought him out of his daydream, with a soft “hi,” soft enough that only his blessed ears could hear.

he mouthed the same back to you, and offered you his arm which you gladly took, effortlessly shifting the bouquet to your other hand. he looked forward at his best friend standing at the altar, nathan’s gaze bouncing between you and matt, smile growing exponentially bigger.

you and matt made your way down the isle, the trail of the others behind you following shortly after.

his mind went back to the thoughts he had earlier of what his wedding day would be like; walking down a similar path, similar people as his own groomsmen, but different decorations and maybe some different guests, but one constant was there,

and it was you.

meeting nathan at the end of the walkway, matt hugged him first and you following,

“thank you,” nathan whispered in your ear, you broke the hug, giving him a silent ‘of course’ as you shuffled to your side in front of the other women.

an instrumental began to play; charlotte was about to walk in. you could barely contain the excitement of seeing your best friend marry the love of her life. you felt a little proud about being part of the reason her and nathan started dating, but you were always humble about it.

matt on the other hand, he wasn’t thinking about charlotte; hell, he wasn’t even thinking about nathan. he could only think of you, and how you were beaming with joy in the moment.

would you be the same way on your big day?

‘Wrapped me in your arms

Leaned in and whispered

"Keep me in your heart"

‘I'm so bewildered

What's this new desire called?’

‘I didn't know that much at all 'bout love before

But now, I think I'm learning’

in all honesty, he never paid much attention to the lyrics, just knew that you liked it. but for once, his ears tuned in.

‘You bewitched me

From the first time that you kissed me’

that was true. your first kiss together was sweet and innocent, shared after only one date at the most dive style restaurant in boston. even from that day, he was hooked on you.

‘Waited all night

Then we ran down the street in the late London light

The world froze around us, you kissed me good night’

the grand doors fell open, and there she was. charlotte was glowing. a perfect bride on her perfect day, everyone turning their entire bodies to look at her. but matt’s eyes never left you.

‘You bewitch me

Every damn second you're with me’

he watched your eyes become glossy, tears almost immediately streaming down from your face as you happily wept at the sight the girl you’ve known for years.

‘I try to think straight

But I'm falling so badly, I'm coming apart’

matt had to force himself to rip his gaze from you, now looking at nathan, who was biting his lip, doing little to nothing to stop the pools of tears coming from his eyes. matt could only think how lucky he was to get to experience this. to marry the woman he’s been so sure about for so long.

‘You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart

And bewitched me’

deja vu hit matt again, and it hit him hard.

“only time can tell” he remembers exactly how those words came out of his mouth that day.

“exactly right, matty. but time is all they need”

you were right. you were always right. now he knew. time was all he needed.

‘You're not even gone

I already miss you

What's going on?’

he was too caught up in thinking that all good things come to an end, that his first love wouldn’t last, and it would only be a matter of time. you were the only good thing he didn’t want to end.

‘I've never been through

This all-consuming fire fuming

Cursing at the moon and losing all control and crying

'Cause I think I'm falling’

a shaky breath released from his mouth, feeling the guilt of not realizing he wanted to marry you sooner, how you always did things for him, things you wouldn’t do for anyone else; you took care of him.

he lost count of how many times he pulled himself into reality from his own thoughts today, and as charlotte made her way to hold hands with nathan, she whispered an ‘i love you,” to you, matt finally felt his eyes gloss with tears, at both the sight in front of him and the thought of you. all of you.

he knew he wanted you all to himself, forever.

your eyes finally met his, not knowing he was looking at you this entire time. you gave him that smile again, a tear dropping down his face.

“i love you,” he mouthed, you let out a gentle breath at his words. he knew were usually the one to say it first, not like he never said it. he said it all the time; but you were quick to steal those three words from his breath without even realizing.

“i love you,” he watches you mouth back, doing your best to not interrupt the moment happening in front of the two of you.

he vowed silently to cherish you forever, love you ljke there’s no tomorrow, vow to make you his wife. vow to show everyone the way he looks at you, because that will never go away. matt almost selfishly knows you feel the same way, thinking about how you predicted the future of your best friends only half a year into their relationship. why would you stay with him if you didn’t feel that, too?

because when you know you know? right?

218 notes · View notes

sfehvn · 1 year ago

Text

intruder

Part 2 | Part 3

Description: A year has since came and went following Astarion's ascension ritual. He is no longer himself, but then... Where is he? Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 1,717 Characters: ascended!Astarion x Tav

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Tears threatened to spill as you gazed upon the man before you. One that you so loved, so craved; one that you have proven loyalty to time and again. Nervous fingers fiddled with the luxurious silk that adorned your body. The material was something you had always eluded before. When your heart was still pumping and breathing was a necessity. You didn’t have much use for those actions anymore, yet you still felt the deep red gown to be constricting.

“My, red really is your color, isn’t it darling?” Astarion’s words encouraged your eyes to wilt towards the floor in submission.

“Yes, love.” They didn’t sound like your own anymore, regardless you still spoke. A gnawing ache permanently etched into your chest as you had come to realize. How long have you been doing this dance with him now? Time was simply a construct of another time for you. One reserved for your long-gone, rosy-cheeked self. Your heart weighed heavier than you could comprehend these days.

Your master’s pale fingers effortlessly land under your chin leading your eyes to his own. His brow furrowed with indignation, you assume at least. “What’s got you down?” He questions, eyes never faltering. You wanted to laugh, though you didn’t; of course. What a ridiculous question it was. You could have prepared a book on the things that are wrong.

The ridiculously lavish gowns you are confined to, for starters. So different from the armor that had once adorned your body when you had first met the fearful spawn. The complete lack of your feelings. The fact that you weren’t allowed to freely-think any longer. Astarion would argue that letting you pick the color of the sheets in the bed-chamber was sufficient enough. You missed the daylight. When light flooded from the doors of the manor, you fantasized of running out. Of making a bed out of the fresh flowers blooming in Baldur’s Gate and basking in the warmth of the rays above. Parts of you longed for it no matter the banishment those same rays would cast on you.

“I’m fine.” You utter instead, a weak smile splaying saddeningly across your face. The lack of attention from Astarion in the past months had taken its toll. Mind convinced he no longer wanted you for love as you had desired. The reason you had given your life to remain in the shadows for its eternity.

“Do not lie to me, darling.” He spoke firmly, a gentle thumb brushing your surely paled cheek. Instinctively your eyes shut and you lean into the touch yearningly. “What is wrong?” It came more as a demand but you were too distracted to comprehend his words. It had been so long since he had shown you the attention he showers you with now. Too long. A soft sigh escapes your lips as his free hand comes up to rest on your shoulder, cold fingertips caressing your cold neck, lingering over the raised flesh of scar tissue.

“I miss the sun.” You spoke hesitantly, your eyes fluttering to meet him once more. He nodded in encouragement, a silent word spoken for you to continue. “I miss being able to come and go as I please.” Your words became more confident. “And I hate this dress.” This elicited an amused chuckle from Astarion.

“What else, pet?”

“I miss you Astarion. Most days I can’t tell if you’re bored with me or not. I am reduced to shadows while you galavant over Baldur’s Gate. I-”

His eyes hardened, an indication to you that you had spoken too freely. “Galavant.” He sneered in distaste, releasing his hold on your chin and dropping his hand from your shoulder. “You think what I’ve been doing is galavanting? I work, without thanks, might I add. I did this for you. To ensure you can have a comfortable existence. To ensure you would never have to put yourself in harm's way again. So that we could spend eternity together. As we are fated.” The distaste in his words seared you.

This was a mistake you had decided. “Right, I’m sorry.” Quiet and meek, you pondered if he knew exactly how frightened you had become of his ruling hand. He had never hit you, no. He did not need to. You felt like another pawn in his game, and here you had let your guard falter just for him to bare his teeth again. Sleep, eat, fuck. That was the comfortable existence you were to live. If this was fate, she had a cruel and unkind hand played to you.

“The dress is nice on you.” Astarion added flatly. “The least you could do is be grateful and wear it without complaint. That is your duty. You look the part, you act the part. That includes not sulking around the manor and ruining my good day.” He sneered, his previously sweet demeanor gone. “I expect you to help me greet our guests. They will be here soon. You will not embarrass me with your sour mood and you will be a dutiful hostess tonight.” Without another word he leaves the bed chamber.

Stinging tears pooled in your eyes. You often wondered if your Astarion was still in there. The one who speaks charmingly to you when he does, the one who touches you sweetly to allow you the briefest moment of comfort and relief in his presence. Or has he just become an expert at fiddling with your strings, at manipulating you to get exactly what you’re thinking out of you. You suppose that is more likely. Astarion had often said the old him died the day of the ritual, something you had chalked up to a figure of speech until recently.

The old Astarion really did die that day, and you were stuck with a monster who moved about in his beautiful skin. You know that now.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“You were a good girl tonight.” Astarion delights as the two of you prepare to rest. His body bare, while yours is adorned in the finest nightgown the gold in his pockets can buy. You say nothing as you blindly pull each pin out of your hair. Running your fingers through the strands you discover another pin. Your maid had done an intricate updo in preparation for her master’s guests earlier in the evening, and you had only wished there was a way for you to admire her handiwork. Suddenly a pair of strong hands are on your shoulders. “I believe a reward is in order.”

You stiffened. “Something I receive every night can hardly be viewed as a reward.” You mull as you begin brushing through your hair. The grip on your shoulders tighten in contempt and just as quickly, they loosen.

“Tav?” Fear stricken words grace your ears, and you can’t help but turn quickly, his hands dropping to his sides. Astarion was never fearful. Not anymore. Your eyes are wide with confusion, desperation as your eyes shift over Astarion’s face. “Gods, what has he done to you?” Your stomach sinks. For a split second, you think of just how sickly you may look.

“A-Astarion?” You sputter, wide eyed. His eyes held an admiration you hadn’t seen since the ritual had taken place, since the Astarion you loved dearly had fallen prey to his own quest for power.

His knees buckled beneath his weight, head bowing into your lap. “What have I done?” His body shakes as sobs erupt from him, back rising and falling with each heartbreaking sound emanating. Naturally your hands reach for him, hands splayed over the deep scars on his back. Your own tears stream silently down your cheeks, unable to comprehend whatever is going on.

“Astarion… Is it you?” Carefully spoken, afraid of being deceived once more. What if this was some sort of sick test? What if you're banished to your bed chamber for two months again? You can’t do that again… You won't.

His head lifts slowly, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. “It’s me, my darling. It’s me.” It is spoken brokenly, voice cracking in defeat. “I’m not sure how long I have. I, gods, I’m so sorry.”

“Wait, what do you mean? Please don’t leave me again Astarion.” The thought of being punished pushed to the back of your mind. This is him. You both grabbed at each other with sorrowful hands. “What do you mean you don’t know how long you have?” Louder than you expected, desperation oozing from every word. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’ve no choice.” Astarion’s voice is weak. “I’ve been trying to break through since the ritual, love. He…” He trails for a moment, “He’s too strong.” He shakes his head, disgust evident on his tongue. “I’m so sorry, my love.” He begins, stating his apologies over and over again, as if he was stuck in a melancholic daze.

“Where will you go- where are you?” The tears sting at your eyes again, moving down your face and you don’t bother brushing them away, feverishly lavishing in every second you have left with him. “Are you in pain?” You ask shakily.

“I’m here. I’m not in control.” He shakes his head, eyes distant. “It’s dark. The only pain I feel is being away from you.” Infinitely succumbing to darkness, the very thing Astarion had wanted to avoid. His body has become a vessel for something evil. “I can’t-” The words were painful as he seemed to struggle internally.

There is a brief flash of pain upon his face before that same face of contempt reappears. His eyes are dark and he swiftly stands to his feet. He would not kneel to you. Perhaps it was because he had been bested by the soul that lurks deep in his depths, the embarrassment too great, he simply leaves the bed chamber.

You’re left disoriented. You were momentarily glad that the other Astarion wouldn’t punish you for the indiscretion of indulging the spawn that had fought his way out of the darkness for a juncture, perhaps it would come at a later time.

Your mind was plagued, but at the forefront was your love. Suspended in time, in darkness, alone.

#astarion x tav #ascended!astarion x tav #ascended astarion #tav #astarion x reader #ascended!astarion x reader #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

492 notes · View notes

petals2fish · 2 months ago

Text

The Golden Globes Incident

James Potter cannot get a decent interview in with Lily Evans. It's mostly because any time they get together it's all banter and wit, which leaves the couple no time for seriousness. one shot. Victoria on Tumblr asked me to re-create the Andrew Garfield interview at the golden globes but with jily, and this is the result. READ ON A03 (and yes I do plan on writing the chicken shop date @joyseuphoria for this to add onto)

“I heard Lily Evans is going to be here.” Peter, James’ cameraman, said sneakily as he set up his tripod, “you going to act like an idiot again?”

“James always acts like an idiot when Lily Evans is around.” Marlene, James’ producer, said with a tinge of annoyance, “and the reason I am here and not in the studio.”

James shot his producer a sheepish grin, “you act as if you have better things to do with your time.”

Marlene waved the cards in her hands at James, “I brought cue cards, in the hopes I can keep you on topic around the woman, although after the last interview I highly doubt it.”

“I can be professional.” James argued as he straightened his bow tie, “she’s the one who got me off topic last time.”

“You guys spent twenty minutes comparing cows to cats,” Marlene deadpanned, “forgive me for lacking faith in you.”

“We don’t even know if she’s truly going to be available for interview.” James reminded them, “or if she’s even here.”

The screams from the fans across the road announced her presence first. People begging for her to look their way, to come over, and to acknowledge their existence. James would honestly do the same for her attention, had done so, back when he was nothing but a footballer and she was a child star trying to live a normal life. Going to American high school and being two of the three brits on site had placed them both in similar crowds, but nothing had ever come of them but friendship.

But this wasn’t high school, and now they were basically strangers, acquaintances at best. James had done his football thing, retired early due to a poor shoulder, and became an entertainment host for ABC. Lily had propelled from her childhood sitcom on Disney into an impressive acting career that had landed her at the Golden Globes that night. They saw each other around, mostly at these events, but every time he was reminded just how much he missed seeing her every day in high school.

Then she appeared and James felt as if his breath left his lungs at the sight of her.

There she was, walking over to him with the biggest grin plastered on her face. Lily Evans’ cheeks were shining with glitter painted on like freckles, and her green eyes were shadowed with golden dust. She wore a stunning dress that made her pale skin look tanner than usual, or she’d just gotten back from an ocean-based vacation.

God, she was just beautiful.

She wasn’t going to come over to him though, no, the last time they’d seen each other had probably scared her off for good. He turned towards the cameraman, pretending to be interested in a nonexistent conversation. He tried to look nonchalant. He didn’t dare look at her until after he was sure she’d passed by. He couldn’t take rejection, not from her.

“James.”

Lily was standing directly beside him and hadn’t passed him by. James turned halfway and looked at her. She stood eye to eye with him since she wore heels. She was even more goddess like up close and personal. James looked back at his coworkers for confirmation that he could start an interview with her. Even though he never managed to talk to her normally, in any situation.

Peter nodded at him, and Marlene made a motion with her hand that meant the camera was rolling and they wanted him to interview her. Right, James had to do his job.

Lily, however, gave an awkward wave to the camera and turned her back to the camera. James touched her shoulder with the microphone, and she cackled, turning back to face him, and allowing the camera to angle down her body for dress shots.

“Looking lovely.” His voice cracked like a twelve-year-old boy, bloody hell.

“Oh, you are interested in talking to me?” She pestered him.

“Of course.”

“I just saw this…” Lily gave an imitation awkward smile and turned away from James, pretending to be him five seconds ago when he’d seen her coming and hadn’t known whether to run away or die on the spot.

“No, I didn’t do that!” He sniggered off his awkwardness, she always gets him laughing when she’s around.

“You did!” Lily pressed a fresh manicured hand to her red tainted mouth, “you’re like a capybara in the wild”

“No!” He felt like he wanted the red carpet to swallow him up now that he knew she’d seen how awkward he had been at the sight of her. “I was smiling!”

“Good.” Lily brushed a strand of her auburn hair back, “I thought you were going to pretend you didn’t know me.”

“I was smiling! I was like…” his smile was strained because he was aware of everyone within fifteen feet watching them. “Happy to see you!”

“It was not! It was this…” Lily did a perfect imitation of James’ side eye. He had to laugh at that, because she looked preposterous, which meant he’d been even more stupid looking.

“No, I was happy!” He cried, touching her shoulder, and forcing her to bring her eyes from her feet to his face.

There was a playful fire in her eyes that made his stomach twist into knots as they stared each other down. It was if she were daring him to give in and make a move, declaring her mutual attraction. James tilted the corners of his mouth into a quizzical expression as she stuffed her hands into the folds of her gown.

“Can we start over?” Lily and James both looked over to the camera man and his producer, who currently had her arms crossed and had interrupted their little reunion. “This isn’t usable material.”

“Right,” James cleared his throat and then pointed the microphone at the actress. “Professional.”

Lily bent down so her mouth pressed into his microphone with a sly little, “hi.”

He couldn’t resist matching her smile with one of his own smoldering grins as he brought the microphone back to his lips to respond to her just a coyly. “Hi.”

The sparks flying between them were undeniable. She looked beyond happy to be standing in his shadow. There were no words in the English language that could describe how he was looking at her, at least none he could remember.

He started to ask a question, but Lily bent back, face ecstatic and she winked at him as she said, “Fancy seeing you here.”

Her red hair was also dusted with gold, making her look as if she were hand painted by an artist. James would love for one afternoon to sit and paint the way her smile lifted her cheeks. He’d love to sketch every feature to perfection. He’d taste her skin with his—nope wrong time to think about that.

The last time they had run into each other had also been an awards show. He’d complimented her cat, asked her if she liked pizza, and made some off-the-wall comment about her leg hair. This time, for the golden globes, he ought to be more refined. There was something about Lily Evans that brought out his worst and best parts. The last time they’d met, he hadn’t gotten even a reel of good footage to use. It had all been banter and wit.

That’s what led James to start with a polite, mildly flirtatious, “we must stop meeting like this.”

Lily snorted, brushing off his claim with a wave of her hand, “I only ever want to see you.”

His voice dropped an octave. “What?”

He cannot comprehend what Lily just said out loud, thankfully he could rewind the tape a million times when he got back to the studio. Meanwhile, Lily was still talking like a mile a minute.

“At an, on like a—“ And then Lily saw James’ shocked expression and she quickly covered his hand on the mic. James felt like he might feint as he was now holding her bloody hand. “No, that’s not the end of—“

“What?” James asked again, tugging her up and closer to him.

Lily paused, as if mesmerized by him, before shaking herself from her stupor and adding quickly, “—the sentence! That’s not the end of my sentence!”

James licked his lips, “Care to clarify?”

“I only ever want to see you in this kind of sort of situations.” She seemed to wince, but James didn’t know if his eyes were able to do anything beyond gape at her, let alone deduce her actions fairly. “I mean, I like to see you in these situations.”

“What about other situations?” He asked boldly, or stupidly,

“Not--” Lily’s face was tomato red as she glanced at her publicist who nodded thoroughly at her for whatever answer she was about to give. James arched a brow. So, Lily was being babysat that night. He wondered if it was due to him, and the last viral interview they’d had. Lily turned her eyes back on James and said without an ounce of truth, “not interested.”

James clicked his tongue with feigned disappointment. “I was gonna invite you to my birthday party!”

Lily’s publicist hit herself with her notepad when Lily grabbed James’ elbow and inhaled, “wait, when’s your birthday party?”

“March.” James said, “all our friends will be there.”

“We have mutual friends?” Lily giggled, fucking giggled, in his direction.

She was flirting.

She was flirting so much that everyone watching was picturing what he might say next.

“Oh loads.” James lied. “We miss each other on all the big outings.”

“Well then I should invite you to my birthday.” Lily said, “how rude of me!”

“What astrological sign are you?” James asked, seeing Marlene throw her que cards on the ground in frustration as he once again pulled the interview into a mad direction.

“I’m an Aquarius,” she said, “and yours is Aries.”

“How’d you…” he cut himself off and glanced over his shoulder at the camera crew literally gaping at them, speechless. He would hate himself forever if he didn’t be wholly honest with her now. Screw Marlene and her cue cards. “Did you know that if you have a sun, that’s the same as the sun sign of someone else…”

Lily grew worried by how serious he had become, “is it not good?”

“Nah,” he leaned into her space again, feeling quite courageous. “it’s good.”

They were compatible without all the astrological signals. Hell, he had been attracted to Lily from the first second he saw her walking the hallways of their old school. Everyone had known he’d had a crush on her, everyone but Lily. He had been determined to take her out, but it had always been the right girl at the wrong time. He hoped the timing was finally right.

“Oh, so it’s good that we share a sun or a moon?” She rocked in her heels, “well that’s interesting.”

“Why?” He stepped into her with a cool smirk, his knees brushing the edges of her puffy gown. “Is that an issue?”

“Well because, I don’t…I don’t think we should explore this.” She said faintly, but her eyes weren’t leaving his, almost like she was begging him to just kiss her already.

“Okay, well, I’m not even asking to explore it.” He resisted the urge to tuck her red hair behind her ear as it tickled her sparkling cheek.

“I know, but I’m just like really kind of…” Lily’s voice trailed off as looked at James like she wanted to push him against the nearest wall and find out just how compatible they could be.

He wouldn’t argue, and told her as much with a clever arch of his brow and a seducing brush of his teeth on his lower lip.

“Okay,” Marlene, his producer, retorted boisterously from beside the camera, “we need to do an actual interview you two!”

Lily pretended to not look flustered as she stepped back from James a bit. “Whoops, sorry, he’s just so into me.”

“I’m sorry,” James tried not to flush red and he casually brushed Lily’s wrist with two fingers. “You’re the one who’s obsessed with me.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” She said, motioning at all of him like he hadn’t been joking with her. “I’m scared of what it could turn into.”

Holy shit.

Was she being serious?

Was she being serious and not joking right now?

James’ heart was beating a mile a minute.

“Ugh, okay.” James scratched his head, unsure of what to say because Lily Evans was having a crisis on camera in front of him, about him.

“And I’m not ready for that kinda thing.” She seemed to be talking more to herself than to anyone else. “it’s not you, I just am not ready to really dig into that, right?”

“It would be too much,” he deduced, offering her an out that he didn’t really want to give.

“I’m not ready for it.” Lily confirmed, but she confirmed it a little too hastily as she glanced at her publicist who gave her a thumbs up.

Something was keeping her from bluntly asking him out, and that something was her publicist. James wondered if they had some other plan for her romantic life, a marketing relationship to get her more screen time. James doubted Lily wanted that because she acted like she wanted him instead.

“Oh okay,” James placed his hand on his chest, “well, I am ready whenever you are.”

“Wait.” Lily froze in place, her eyes widening with astonishment at his admittance. “Fuck.”

James realized he had thrown her off and quickly tried to backtrack. “You’re nominated tonight, congratulations.”

“Thank you very much.” Lily still looked like she was sweating, she kept glancing at her publicist who seemed at a loss for words or advice for her client.

James couldn’t remember the questions he had prepared. He felt like a dunce standing in front of her. He willed his brain to come up with something. “You have, I feel like you have an affinity to playing religious characters.”

“Are you serious?” Lily’s face cooled down as she cracked another tickled smile. “That’s what you want to talk about? Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to ask a serious question?” she argued, “this sounds like you pulled it out of your arse because you forgot what you were really going to ask me.”

James shrugged, “I mean if you don’t want me to interview you—”

Lily took a deep breath in through her nose and then let it out. “You aren’t going to ask any serious questions?”

“Fresh out, sadly.” He admitted, winking at her.

“I knew you would do this!” She hit him with her little Prada bag.

“Ouch,” James gripped his arm dramatically making Lily roll her eyes.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t try acting after football.” She baited him, loving the banter just as much as he did.

James glared down at her, “I’ll have you know, I’m an excellent actor.”

“Hey! Focus!” The producer called to them both. “Please for the love of God, focus!”

“Sorry Marley,” James shot his producer a grin, “old friends—you know the deal.”

“No I don’t know,” Marlene snarled, “but I do know this isn’t an interview!”

Lily grinned sheepishly at James when he looked back at her for confirmation that they were both being yelled at, “No. Go on then. Let’s see what we can do. Let’s see if we can do it.”

Was she talking about them?

Or the bloody question he still hasn’t made up?

“You seem to have an affinity…” he bit his lip, and she let lose a bubble of laughter, “to playing…”

Just then a man, an actor, in a black tux ruined any semblance of an attempt at a normal conversation. He pushed between James and Lily, and the camera, cutting them both off from the camera pointed in their direction. His bodyguard followed him, also blocking the camera.

James’ face fell. “Oh sorry.” He shouted after them sarcastically, “just in the middle of an interview here!”

Lily noticed James’ frustration and started yelling after their retreating backs too. “Yeah, go ahead. Cut in front you fucking bastards!” Then Lily looked at James warily. “Wait, are we live?”

“Kind of?” James said, having to kneel over because he was laughing so hard at her ‘fucking bastards’ comment. “Holy shit you’re hilarious Evans.”

Lily stared laughing too, and they leaned into each other as they cracked up over the situation they had found themselves in.

“Please ask your fucking question.” Lily said while still laughing, wiping her eye, removing some of the glitter from under her eye. “Before we’re rudely interrupted again.”

“You have an affinity for playing religious characters.” James continued, slowing down his breath as his laughter died. “I feel like you’re always playing a religious woman in some way.”

Lily put a hand on her hip and tilted it right. “That’s not a question,”

“Oh yeah, sorry.” He adjusted his glasses on his nose and then very cheekily added, “Why?”

Lily burst into laughter again and walked back a few steps, holding her face as her shoulders shook. The producer, the camera man, and Lily’s handler were all shouting at them now. James knew they were on borrowed time, and about to be separated for their nutty antics on the carpet.

“Wait, we can do this,” James motioned for Lily to come back over, “tell me your favorite food.”

Lily broke down with laughter again, doubling over in front of the camera this time. Her dress shook, looking like a waterfall as it vibrated against her skin. James brushed his fingers through his hair, chuckling, as she placed her lips near the mic, he was still holding it out between them.

“I’ll tell you my least favorite food.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” She started listed several foods.

James glanced over her shoulder when Sirius Black did bunny ears behind Lily without her noticing. Unfortunately, James didn’t look back at her quickly enough because she caught his interest moved elsewhere.

“You just looked over my shoulder. Is it someone more important?” Lily glanced back and spotted Sirius bounding away like a troublesome toddler. “Ah, yes, my costar.”

“Yeah, Sirius Black.” James joked, “can we like wrap this up because I need to speak to him about your terrible interview skills.”

Lily pretended to talk into a mic attached to her ear, “SB is coming in. I better bounce.”

James said speedily, “can I get your autograph before you go?”

“Wait this feels like a trap.” Lily said as he took a pen and paper from his pocket, balancing the mic on the crook of his elbow. ”Is this a trap?”

“No.” James said, “not a trap, just sign it.”

“I’m not going to read what it says.” She dipped the ink against the page and started writing with great big curly letters.

“It says…”

“I’m not reading it.” She repeated, handing the paper and pen back to James, “I won’t.”

“Okay.” He shrugged, “but full disclosure, it’s a best friend’s certificate.”

“Well then call me later bestie,” she winked as she was walked away, or rather, was pushed away by her exasperated publicist. “Bye James.”

James glanced down at the paper.

She had signed it with two hearts.

And her cell phone number.

#jily #james potter #lily evans #jily fic #jily fanfiction #jple

58 notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 11 months ago

Text

Because of My Family

Requested Here!

Pairing: David "Deacon" Kay x fem!wife!Street!reader (Street's sister)

Summary: When you return to S.W.A.T. after having your fourth child, you are fatally injured. Your family gives you a reason to fight.

Warnings: angst to fluff, depiction of gunshot wound (r is shot), 20-David is the best group of men in the world

Word Count: 4.0k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Hey, sleepyhead, you’re not on vacation anymore. We gotta get up.”

You sigh and roll closer to Deacon as you argue, “Maternity leave is not vacation. And I’ll remind you that it’s your fault.”

Deacon chuckles as he pushes your hair out of your face and kisses your forehead. “Your brother will kill me if you don’t come in with me.”

“You can take Jim,” you murmur as you press your face against Deacon’s chest. “Do I really have to get up right now?”

“Five minutes,” Deacon answers. “Or I’m pulling you out of bed.”

“I’m sure that was supposed to be a threat, but it didn’t sound like one.”

The baby monitor beside your bed crackles before you hear your family’s newest addition whine. Deacon pats your hip and reminds you to get up as he goes to check on his youngest child. You stand, too, and answer your phone when it rings.

“Good morning,” you greet as you walk to the bathroom to get ready. “And before you ask, yes, I’m up.”

“Whoa, take it easy. I’m just excited to have you back at work,” your brother Street replies. “You plan on being this grumpy all day?”

You chuckle at Street and smile when you hear Deacon having a one-sided conversation.

“Are you nervous?” Street asks.

“No, I’m actually really excited. I’ve loved being home with the kids, but I miss it.”

“You mean you miss me.”

“You’ve been here every single day, Jim. I wish I could miss you, but you don’t let me.”

“You love me.”

“Luckily for you,” you tease.

“How’s Deac? Nervous for you?”

You glance toward the nursery and lower your voice to say, “If he is, he isn’t showing it.”

Street hums before he says, “I’ll see you at HQ. Love you.”

“I love you, too. See you in a bit.”

You get ready quickly, growing more excited to get back to work. You love your family, but S.W.A.T. has been part of your life for a long time, and you missed it during maternity leave. While you anticipate what your first day may be like, Deacon lets your sitter into the house. When it’s time to leave, Deacon takes your hand and walks you to the car, promising to be by your side at work just as he is at home.

✯✯✯✯✯

“There they are!” Hondo yells when you and Deacon walk into S.W.A.T. HQ.

“So glad to see you,” Luca says. He smiles, hugs you, and whispers, “You look amazing.”

“Thanks, Luca,” you respond. “Thank you, all of you, for everything over the past few months.”

“She’s mostly talking to me,” Street interjects.

“You didn’t do it alone, Street,” Deacon argues.

“Okay,” you call, raising your hands. “Thank you Deacon and Street for single-handedly getting me physically ready to come back to work.”

Street smiles as he says, “You’re welcome.”

“Not like I’m the one who had a baby and then beat my PFQ records or anything.”

“No way!” Luca exclaims. “New records?”

“Shaved five seconds off my run time and got another pull-up. That obstacle course seemed pretty easy after dealing with four kids, too,” you answer.

“Congratulations.”

Hondo is smiling but looking at you a bit too intently.

“What?” you ask.

“I’m just wondering if we should apologize in advance,” he explains. “We’re going to be more protective than ever.”

“More than these two?” you ask as you point at Deacon and Street.

“Well, there’s more of us now. We just need to make sure you go home to all those babies every night.”

“I appreciate it, Hondo. And, trust me, I remember last time, so I’m prepared for the helicoptering.”

“20-David!” Hicks yells. “50 squad needs backup at a barricade in Norwalk.”

“Let’s roll!” Hondo adds.

Hicks smiles when he sees you, and when Street and Deacon arrange themselves on either side of you, he shakes his head. Whatever level of protectiveness you expect is underestimating how much your team cares about you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Rocker said they were called to a noise disturbance after the suspect barricaded himself in the house and opened fire on the responding patrol officers. Apparently he winged one of them, and they can’t track him in the house,” Hondo explains.

“What’s the plan?” Luca asks from Black Betty’s driver seat.

“50-David tried breaching, but the house has reinforced steel beams, and the pulls didn’t work. They suspect that he has more weaponry, so they don’t want to get too close.”

“What’s behind the house?” you ask.

“Uh, a tiny yard that backs up to an alley,” Street answers, looking at a satellite view of the area. "It has an Abingdon Street address, but there’s an alley between it and the house it backs to on Excelsior Drive.”

“Black Betty can’t pull from an alley, but we can hop a fence,” you suggest.

Hondo nods, flipping the map to find an approach route.

“Three side on the back… If we approach on foot from the other side of the alley, Grayland Avenue, he shouldn’t see us coming,” he says. “Let’s do it. Luca, you’re with me, we’ll join Rocker at Elaine and Abingdon. Street, you and Deacon lead the approach from the back.”

You nod when Hondo tells you to go with Deacon and Street. When Luca turns on to Grayland, you jump out of the back of Black Betty and move down the alley.

“Go inside,” you whisper to a child playing in an unfenced backyard.

Deacon raises a hand and signals for you to stop. Street stops directly to your left and waits for more information from Deacon.

“This is 30-David, I have visual of the house from the back alley. There’s a camera on the opposite corner from my location. Do we know if his surveillance works?” Deacon radios.

“One second, 30-David,” a tech back at HQ replies. “I’ll check.”

“This is a boring story,” Street whispers. “Your first call is a noise complaint gone wrong.”

“The automatic weapon adds a bit of suspense,” you reply with a smile.

“30-David, the camera is a fake. Clear to continue,” the tech alerts.

Deacon gestures for you to follow him in a single-file formation, and you end up in the middle. As you approach the fence, Deacon looks through the boards to see the back of the house and shakes his head.

“The windows are blacked out on this side, too. Except for one in the corner.”

“Then that’s the one we need,” Street replies.

Deacon jumps the fence and raises his weapon to cover the backyard while you and Street join him. He extends an arm toward you quickly when you land but moves it back when you nod.

“30-David, approaching the southeast window,” Deacon radios.

Before you take a step, the window slides open, and the barrel of an automatic rifle comes out.

“Go, go, go!” Deacon yells, shooting a nonlethal round into the window.

The suspect inside opens fire as the beanbag enters; the firing is unplanned and erratic. You duck toward the ground and follow Deacon toward the opposite side of the house to exfil.

“Deac, where are those shots coming from?” Hondo demands.

“Southeast window!” Deacon answers. “We’re moving to the west side.”

“Deac!” you call, watching as a matching window on the west side comes into view.

“Hondo, we’re stuck in a corner,” Street says. “Now would be a great time to say you have a plan!”

“We’re working on something, hold tight.”

“Kind of hard to do with someone shooting at us,” you mutter.

“Where’d he go?” Street asks.

“Both windows are closed now,” Deacon answers. “Maybe he saw the cops out front.”

You shake your head and point to a window further up. It’s blacked out but slightly ajar, so you suspect he’s still on this side of the house.

“Hondo,” Deacon radios. “Get a plan.”

“We’re trying, Deac,” Hondo answers.

“Try faster,” you add.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Luca, how would you feel about running Black Betty into the front of the house?” Hondo asks.

“What? Why?” Luca asks.

“They’re trapped at one of the back corners. Can’t get out without taking more fire,” Hondo says quietly, not wanting to concern the other police officers waiting nearby.

Deacon radios about getting a plan before Luca can answer. Hondo looks toward the house and doesn’t have time to reply to you before the suspect opens fire again.

The shots are concentrated at the back of the house, and Hondo rushes toward the front door and kicks it in while the shots are still ringing through the air. He takes careful turns as he moves toward the back corner. When the suspect comes into view, Hondo fires a beanbag round into his leg, knocking him to the ground.

“You’re under arrest,” Hondo says, kneeling beside the man as he handcuffs him.

“Deac, Street, someone give me an update!” Luca radios, moving toward the gate entrance at the side of the house.

“Suspect in custody,” Hondo alerts. “Deacon!”

✯✯✯✯✯

When the bullets begin ripping through the stucco on the exterior of the house, you, Deacon, and Street fall to the ground and cover your heads. Your adrenaline spikes as the shots continue. When they stop abruptly, you wait a moment before raising your head. The shots were close, so your ears ring as you move to your hands and knees.

“You okay?” Street asks though it’s muffled.

Luca asks something through the radio, but you can’t tell what he’s saying either. You drop your head and notice a growing puddle of blood underneath you. When you try to lift a hand to find the source, everything goes dark as you fall onto the concrete.

✯✯✯✯✯

Street yells your name when you tip forward, drawing Deacon’s attention.

“No, no, no,” Deacon repeats as he carefully turns you onto your back.

They see the blood pooling under you and have to fight not to panic. Deacon finds the hole in your vest and pulls his hand back up, swallowing as he sees your blood covering his hand. He moves out from under you to put pressure on the wound.

“Take her vest off and then go get the med bag from Betty,” Deacon tells Street.

Your brother freezes, and Deacon repeats himself. Street nods before he carefully removes your bulletproof vest, exhaling sharply at the sigh of the clean hole through the Kevlar. Deacon lifts you gently so Street can pull the vest from behind your back and checks for an exit wound, but as he suspected, there isn’t one.

“Med bag,” Deacon reminds Street.

As Street stands, Deacon realizes he can’t feel your heartbeat below his hands anymore. He moves one hand up to your neck, but as he leaves stains on your skin, he can’t find any sign of a heartbeat.

“Street!” he yells.

At Deacon’s pained yell, Street immediately turns back and rushes to your side.

“Keep pressure on this,” Deacon demands.

Street kneels over your thighs and presses both hands against your side as Deacon moves forward. It isn’t until Deacon begins chest compressions that Street realizes you’re gone.

“Tell… Hondo,” Deacon grunts between compressions.

“Hondo,” Street radios. “We need an R/A.”

“What happened, kid? We can’t get to the backyard from the front or through the house, so we’re coming around the back. You and Deac stopped respo- who’s hit?” Hondo interrupts himself when he realizes that he didn’t get a response because someone couldn’t respond.

Street says your name as he watches Deacon begin mouth to mouth.

“Hondo, get somebody to pass the med bag over the west fence,” Street adds.

Deacon hears Hondo yelling orders in the front yard, but his complete attention is on you. He tells Street to apply more pressure to stop the bleeding, and he begins another round of chest compressions. When he breathes into your mouth this time, you cough before gasping.

“Street!” Luca yells from the other side of the fence. “I’ve got the med bag.”

Deacon stands and pulls himself onto the top of the fence, taking it from Luca. When Luca sees the blood covering Deacon’s hands and smeared across his chest, he fears the worst.

“Pull this fence down if you have to, Luca. We have to get her out of here right now,” Deacon explains before jumping back down to help you. “Street, we’re packing the wound. She’s losing too much blood.”

“Deac,” you whimper.

“I got you, sweetheart. We’re not leaving you,” he promises.

Deacon nods at Street, and Street trades places with him. You stretch your hand out toward Street, and he takes your hand in his. When you notice that his hand is covered in your blood, you whisper a thank you for all they are doing to save you.

“I can’t breathe,” you pant.

Deacon looks up from your side and watches you take short, fast breaths. He asks Street to check your heart rate, and Street gives him an elevated number.

“Luca!” Deacon yells.

“Yeah, Deac?” Luca replies.

“Where’s the ambulance?”

“A minute out.”

Deacon licks his lips and turns back to packing your wound.

“Elevate her legs, Street. Twelve inches off the ground,” Deacon says. “Sweetheart, this is going to hurt. I’m sorry.”

You release a muffled scream as Deacon wraps a bandage around your torso and pulls it tightly to keep pressure on the wound. Sirens sound as the ambulance approaches, but there is no way to get you out of the backyard safely.

“Deac,” Hondo says, raising himself over the fence. He stops for a moment when he sees you, and Street and Deacon are covered in your blood, which doesn’t help his concern any. “We’re pulling the fence down right now.”

“Thanks, Hondo,” Deacon replies.

Deacon situates himself between you and the fence and keeps a hand pressed to your pulse point. When your elevated heart rate suddenly plummets, Deacon says your name. You don’t reply, and Deacon apologizes before he puts more pressure on the wound. The resulting adrenaline spike brings you back, and Deacon closes his eyes when you yell in pain. The fence comes down harshly and loudly, but you don’t react to any of it.

“Oh, no,” Luca mumbles when he sees you, Deacon, and Street.

“What’ve we got here?” the first EMT asks as he runs over the destroyed fence.

“GSW to the lower right abdomen and possible hemorrhagic shock.” Deacon lowers his voice to add, “Her heart stopped twice already and she’s still losing blood.”

“Know her blood type?”

Deacon nods and tells him your blood type. Two more EMTs join the first with a gurney, and Deacon has to pull Street away so they can move you onto it.

“Go with her,” Hondo says. “We’ll be by later.”

Deacon and Street climb into the ambulance and sit beside you. The EMTs work quickly, leaving Deacon’s makeshift tourniquet in place.

“Heart rate and BP are plummeting,” one of the EMTs alerts.

Deacon and Street can only watch, helpless, as the EMTs prepare the equipment to shock your heart back into a normal rhythm.

“Is she going to make it?” Street whispers.

“I- she’s a fighter, but I really don’t know, Street,” Deacon answers honestly.

✯✯✯✯✯

Hondo and Luca are waiting impatiently at S.W.A.T. HQ when Deacon finally calls.

“Deac, tell me you have good news,” Hondo answers.

“She- she’s in emergency surgery and they had some trouble finding all of the bullet fragments. Doc said she should be out in about twenty minutes, though, and her heart rate has been stable,” Deacon replies.

“Has been stable?” Luca repeats. “Was it not before?”

“Her heart stopped once in the backyard, and nearly stopped twice more while I was with her. Apparently there were a few more close calls when they first started the surgery.”

“Do they know if she’ll recover?” Hondo asks.

“They don’t know anything for sure. Just, uh, if you want to come down now, you can.”

“We’ll be there, Deac,” Luca replies. “Need anything?”

“No. Thanks, though, for everything.”

✯✯✯✯✯

As Deacon ends the call with Hondo, he gets another call from Hicks.

“Commander,” Deacon greets, hoping he won’t have to leave you.

“Deacon, I just wanted to tell you that I’ve taken 20-David off call, so you’re all free to stay with her unless there’s some kind of emergency,” Hicks says.

“I appreciate that, sir.”

“Just make sure she’s alright, Deac.”

A few minutes later, Hondo and Luca rush into the waiting room. Street and Deacon have changed out of the blood-soaked clothes from earlier and removed your blood from their skin, but they can still feel it.

“Deac,” Hondo sighs as he pulls him into a quick hug. “I’m so sorry.”

“Tell me what you need,” Luca offers.

“I already called our sitter, and she’s going to stay the night,” Deacon replies. “I don’t know what else I need to do.”

“You need to be here for her,” Hondo answers.

Luca moves to Street’s side to check on him as Deacon and Hondo sit down. Deacon recounts what happened, how one of the windows was open before the shots came through the wall.

Nearly an hour later, the doctor finally returns and says your name. Every waiting member of 20-David stands, eager to hear how you are.

“How is she?” Deacon asks.

“She is stable and in a room. She owes her life to your team, gentlemen. The first aid you performed and the speed with which you got her here is the only reason she’s still alive,” the doctor answers. “I can only let family come back at the moment, but I’ll ensure she knows you’re all here for her.”

Deacon and Street follow him into your room, and they’re both surprised to see you are conscious. You smile at them when they enter, and they rush to either side of your bed to hug you.

“The bullet damaged an artery in her torso, which we’ve repaired, and there was no other internal damage,” the doctor adds. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Where are the kids?” you ask Deacon. “The sitter-“

“Is staying the night. I called a while ago and told her what happened, and she was happy to stay with them,” Deacon assures you.

“And I can go stay with them after, for as long as you need,” Street offers.

You can tell that they’re upset, but you are too. Lying in your own blood like that and not knowing if you’d get to see your babies again was terrifying, yet there are only two things you want to do: hug your kids and go back to work.

“How long do you think I’ll be benched?” you ask.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Street responds as he rolls his eyes. “I’m considering quitting and you’re ready to go back?”

“Are you really?”

“I don’t know,” he admits while taking your offered hand. “That was terrifying, and I don’t want to think about losing anyone else.”

“Jim, you saved my life. And I will never leave you, okay?”

Street nods, and you squeeze his hand to remind him that you’re still beside him.

“Can I get some comfort now? Because I was covered in your blood earlier and just want a hug,” Deacon interjects.

You turn toward him and raise your other arm. Deacon hugs you, mindful of your side, and sighs against your neck.

“I love you,” Deacon whispers.

“I love you,” you reply. “And thanks for saving my life.”

“I didn’t-“

“I remember more than you think,” you argue with a smile. “Hey, is everyone here?”

“We’re family and you want Hondo and Luca?” Street asks obnoxiously.

You nod, and Street sighs as he pulls his hand away to get them for you.

“I need to hug our kids as soon as possible,” you tell Deacon.

Deacon smiles as he moves closer to you. “Soon,” he promises.

“Now that just ain’t fair,” Hondo says as he walks inside. “You still look like that after everything you’ve been through?”

“Don’t flirt with my wife, Hondo,” Deacon replies jokingly.

“I don’t know, I kind of like the attention,” you add. “Maybe we should do this more often.”

“Don’t ever say that again,” Luca demands as he lays a kind hand on your shoulder. “Glad you’re feeling good enough to make fun of us and our worry though.”

“Speaking of worry,” Hondo begins. “Street tells us you want to come back to work?”

You nod, and Hondo continues, “Then we will be with you through it all. Recovery, training, we got your back.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “Seriously. I know I’ve been joking, mostly to distract myself, but I wouldn’t even be here without all of you, and I can’t thank you enough for that. My- our kids wouldn’t have me anymore, and there’s nothing I can say to make you understand what all of you mean to me and how much I appreciate what you did for me today – and do for me every day.”

“Did your family grow while I was away?” the doctor asks as he returns.

“No, it’s always been this big,” you reply. “Ask them, they love me.”

The guys nod, and the doctor shakes his head before telling you and your visitors you should be healthy again in just a few weeks. Then he says that visiting hours are over and politely asks everyone to leave.

“I’m her husband,” Deacon offers.

“Oh, my apologies. You’re free to stay for the night,” the doctor replies.

“I’m her brother,” Street adds.

“Would you like me to gather cots for everyone, ma’am?”

“We’re heading out,” Hondo says with a chuckle. “We’ll be back by in the morning. Have a good night and call if you need anything.”

“Seriously,” Luca adds. “I live closer than Hondo, so call me first, though.”

Hondo and Luca argue as they leave, and you smile. The doctor talks for a while, but you focus on Deacon’s hand in yours. He cleaned his ring at some point because it is no longer covered in your blood. Your wedding ring is at home, but the silicone ring you wear at work was taken off when you got to the hospital. As you slide Deacon’s wedding ring off, he glances at you but continues listening to the doctor. With Deacon’s ring on your finger, you feel more complete, even if you are in pain and miss your kids.

“I’m going to go find some food,” Street says after the doctor leaves. “You want anything?”

You smile, and Street sighs as he agrees to find your favorite food.

“You’re the best brother ever!” you call after him. “I love you!”

“Luckily for you I love you too,” he replies with a wide smile.

When it’s only you and Deacon, you slide over and pat the bed, asking him to join you. He smiles at the sight of his ring on your finger as he sits, letting you lean against his side.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” you whisper. “But I’m glad you were with me.”

“I am too,” Deacon replies. “But when you’re released, we’re going home and sitting with all of the kids for as long as possible.”

“That sounds perfect. I love you, Deacon, and you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“I love you,” Deacon replies, kissing your cheek.

Street returns faster than expected, and when he pushes the door open and says, “I can’t believe I said your first day back was going to be boring,” you can’t help but laugh, even though it hurts your side.

You are alive because of your family, both your real family and your work family, though those lines blur more each day. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for all of them, and you know the opposite is true; they will be with you through everything, just as they promised. While you sit between your husband and brother, you know that you owe more than your heartbeat to your family.

#hanna writes✯#david deacon kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay #swat cbs #requests #fem!reader #tw: injury

284 notes · View notes