#he did take all the forehead kisses from us

[itneverendshere]

the thought of rafe taking care of his newborn. maybe mama went to shower and she comes out and she hears the baby just hard crying and she checks on them, and rafes covered in spit up and he’s trying to sponge bath her in the kitchen sink softly talking to her

mini version of myself livin' in me - r.c

pairing: pogue!reader x rafe (bartender!reader universe) warnings: none.

the warm spray of water and the scent of lavender swarmed around you like a hug as you stood under the pressure shower.

it had been one of those long days—your baby girl's cries louder than usual, her needs more demanding, and your sleep-deprived body feeling drained. but the thought of rafe taking care of her while you finally took a moment for yourself brought a giddy smile to your face.

once you were done, you turned off the water, wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel, and stepped out, only to still be welcomed by the sound of your daughter’s cries across the house, louder and more urgent.

your heart thudded as you reached the source, feet still damp against the wooden floor.

the sight in the kitchen made you stop.

rafe stood by the sink, his broad back slightly hunched as he leaned over your baby girl. his shirt was splattered with spit-up, damp spots spreading across his chest and sleeves, a wet dishtowel in hand, and completely focused on autumn.

your baby was in the sink, squirming and red-faced. he cradled her with one arm while using the other to gently sponge her down with a damp cloth. his hair, usually perfectly messy, stuck to his forehead in damp strands, and there was a smear of baby lotion on his cheek.

autumn's tiny fists waved in the air, her cries coming in shuddering gasps, his thumb tracing delicate circles on her belly, his expression infinitely tender.

“shh, i know. almost done. i promise,” he planted a soft kiss on her forehead before continuing to gently wash her. she let out another hiccuped wail and his voice continued as a low, soothing hum, “hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he cooed, running the cloth over her chubby arms. “daddy’s here.”

her cries came in hiccups now, and you watched, heart swelling twice in size, as rafe chuckled to himself despite the chaos around him.

“you’re tough, just like your mama."

you leaned against the doorway, a warm smile spreading across your face. there he was, the man you fell in love with, completely wrapped up in his role as a father, covered in spit-up and unfazed.

he must have sensed your presence, because he turned, his blue eyes lighting up with relief when they met yours. “hey,” he said, a little sheepishly. “didn’t hear you come in.”

“looks like you two had fun,” you mused, moving closer. your gaze fell on the little face that looked back at you, blue eyes wide and tear-streaked. the hiccupped sobs had quieted, and her tiny fingers now curled and uncurled, reaching for something familiar.

“yeah,” rafe said with a lopsided smile, running a hand through his hair, leaving it even messier. “but we’re good, right, little lady?” he leaned down and rubbed his nose lightly against hers, eliciting a soft, surprised coo from autumn.

you rested your hand on his damp arm and he shifted slightly so you could see her better. you stroked her chubby cheek, your fingers tracing the perfect features that were a blend of both of you.

“she’s calmer now,” you said, the tension in your body unwinding as you looked at your husband.

“only because you’re here,” he replied, turning his head to plant a quick, affectionate kiss on your temple. the way his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes made you fall in love all over again.

“you’re soaked,” you laughed, brushing your thumb over the damp splotch on his shoulder.

“hazards of the job,” he said, smirking. “but she’s worth it.”

suddenly, the tiniest sound broke—a quick, unmistakable baby fart.

there was a second of silence as rafe’s eyes widened comically, and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up.

“did she just…” you started, your voice already filled with laughter.

rafe’s expression changed from disbelief to a look of exaggerated dread. he shot you a pleading look, brows raised. “i don’t even wanna check. please, for the love of all that’s holy, tell me she didn’t shart on my hand again.”

you covered your mouth, failing to stop a giggle from spilling out, and took a step forward to peer at your daughter, who now seemed quite content, eyes wide and bright. “oh, she definitely did,” you nodded.

he groaned, head tilting back as if appealing to the heavens.

“why me?” he asked, half-joking, half-resigned, though the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement.

“because you’re her dad,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “and she already knows you’re wrapped around her little finger.”

rafe rolled his eyes, looking down at autumn, who gave a soft, innocent coo. “yeah, yeah. you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“she’s definitely yours,” you added, brushing your hand over her growing hair. “she farts just like you.”

his jaw dropped, eyes wide. “excuse me?” he sputtered, hand on his chest as if you’d just hit him with the worst insult imaginable. “are you serious right now?”

you laughed, the sound coming out so naturally that even your baby seemed to sense the lightheartedness, letting out a warbling giggle of her own. “i mean, the resemblance is uncanny,” you added, doubling down.

he leaned in closer. “for the record, my farts are silent,” he declared, trying to keep a straight face.

“...if you say so,” you drew out the words with mock skepticism.

rafe’s mouth fell open in playful indignation. “hey! i barely fart in front of you!” he said, defensiveness in his voice as he pointed at you.

“sure, sweetheart,” you replied, giving him a patronizing pat on the arm. your grin widened when you saw his eyes narrow in faux irritation.

“no, really!” he protested, shaking his head and trying not to smile. “you make me sound like i’m just walking around the house, letting loose left and right.”

you leaned in, your voice low, “rafe, there was that one time on movie night—”

“oh, come on! that was once!” he said, throwing his hands up in exaggerated defeat. his sudden movement made your daughter wiggle in his arms, and she let out a content gurgle as if agreeing with you.

“see? even she remembers,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

“great. now i’m outnumbered in my own house,” he muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching up.

you pressed another kiss to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin.

“don’t worry, daddy. we still love you, gas and all.” rafe was already halfway through a shit-eating grin when you rolled your eyes so deep into the back of your skull. “grow up,” you scoffed, arching an eyebrow. “you don’t have to smirk every time i call you ‘daddy.’”

rafe chuckled, entirely unapologetic, “what? it’s not my fault you say it in that voice!”

“i hope she shits on you again.”

he let out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest in feigned betrayal. "wow. cursing me with more spit-up and sharts? you’re cruel.”

autumn let out a loud noise, drawing your attention back to her. she gazed up at rafe with wide, adoring eyes, her tiny fingers wrapping around his thumb.

his voice softened as he looked down at her, completely captivated. “guess i wouldn’t mind a few more spit-ups,” he confessed, a look of pure love in his eyes.

you smiled as you watched them. “lucky for you, i don’t think she’s done with those anytime soon.”

i cannot confirm or deny if this was also inspired by mads fart video on ig

[greengoblinswifey]

Symbol of Love— Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— based off sofia and rafe’s cute moment in s4 ep 9 so slight spoilers. rafe is on mission to catch groff and he gives you something to treasure before he leaves.

warnings— spoilers, fluff, mentions of death.

a/n— saw the scene and immediately decided to write this, my heart is melting omg ugh that should be me and him. these new batch of episodes have been such a roller coaster, can’t wait to finish and see how everything plays out <3

Rafe’s hands were tense as walked around the sand, jaw tight as he tried to process what he’d just learned. Chandler Groff had stolen his money, and he boated off the island. You leaned against the tree, eyes wide as you tried to absorb the news. Hollis’ death had hit you harder than you let on, and whispers were circulating that JJ Maybank might have been involved. Nothing felt certain anymore, but what you did know was that Rafe had always been the one constant—until now.

“Okay, but listen,” Rafe said, his voice sharp and urgent. “Unless I catch up with Groff now, that money is long gone.”

“Where is he, Rafe?” you asked, your heart pounding. You didn’t want him to go, especially not alone, but you knew you couldn’t stop him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he muttered, his gaze fixed somewhere past you. “I’ll track him down. I’ll get it all back.” There was a steely resolve in his voice, a familiar determination that reminded you of just how far he would go to keep what was his.

But before he could take off, he turned to you, his eyes softening just and took a deep breath. “I want to say something first.”

You opened your mouth, the confession about Hollis and everything that happened burning on your tongue. “Rafe, I- I need to tell you something too.”

Before you could finish, he startled you by dropping to one knee, pulling out a beautiful ring from his pocket. Your heart skipped a beat, and suddenly you felt like the world was spinning.

He held it up to you, his gaze never leaving yours. “It was my mom’s,” he said softly, his voice breaking just slightly. “Been in my family forever. I know it’s some kook bullshit, but I just- I wanted you to have it before I left. So you’d know this, us- we’re real.”

“Rafe, wait,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I- I did something. It’s about Hollis. There’s more I didn’t tell you—”

He cut you off, shaking his head and cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “Don’t. There’s things about me you don’t know. And trust me, they’re way worse than anything you could say. I don’t care what you did, and I don’t care to know.” His voice softened, but his eyes stayed intense. “I want you, and that’s all that matters to me.”

You could barely breathe, tears leaving your eyes and he slipped the ring on your finger, his eyes pleading.

You were crying now, overwhelmed by the depth of his acceptance. You could feel his hands tremble as he slid the ring onto your finger. “Say yes,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “There’s no more pogue bullshit, okay? No more of that. I want you to quit that job and move in with me.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a promise, and you nodded, barely able to find your voice. “Yes, Rafe.”

He smiled, relief flooding his face as he pulled you into a kiss, his hands cradling your face as if you were something fragile he had to hold onto. You kissed him back, fingers curling into his jacket, your tears mixing with his warmth.

When you pulled away, he pressed a key into your palm, closing your fingers over it. “It’s to the house. I’ll be back in a few weeks. Stay there for me, okay? At my—no, our place.”

He brushed a kiss across your forehead, and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” And with one last look, he turned, walking toward his boat as you watched him go.

The salty breeze whipped around you, and you looked down at the ring, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. It was beautiful and strange, the symbol of a life you were about to share with him, a life you’d always dreamed of. You traced the ring with your thumb, marveling at its age, its history, a part of him that would stay with you even as he left.

Tears blurred your vision as he boarded the boat, but you stood there, rooted, until he was nothing but a speck on the horizon, clutching the key and the promise he’d left behind.

As you watched Rafe disappear over the horizon, a wave of fear washed over you, heavier than the ocean air around you. You knew how dangerous Groff could be, how far he was willing to go to keep what he’d stolen. And now, Rafe was chasing him down. Your heart twisted, the thought of something happening to him tugging at every corner of your mind. But then you shook yourself, forcing the doubt back. Rafe was tough, stronger than anyone you knew. He could handle himself. He’d be okay.

He’d come back.

You took a deep breath, letting the thought settle over you like a warm blanket. He’d come back, and when he did, you’d spend the rest of your lives together. There would be reward, there would be sunshine after the storm. Your love, this wild, all-consuming love, could survive anything. It had to. Everything was going to be okay.

You glanced down at the ring he’d placed on your finger, feeling its weight, its history pressing against your skin like a quiet promise. Your fingers tightened around the key in your other hand, holding onto it as if it could anchor you to this moment, to him. This key was a piece of him, a piece of your future together, the home you’d share, the life you’d build once he returned.

With one last look out at the horizon, you whispered a silent promise of your own. Then you turned back holding the ring and the key close to your heart, holding onto the hope that soon, he’d be back in your arms.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[5:24 pm]

"Nice try, we don't believe you guys," your friend laughed sarcastically as they walked through your front door to catch sight of you and childhood best friend!Jeno pressed together looking like a loved up couple.

For some reason, over the nearly 20 years of friendship with Jeno, it had become some kind of ongoing bit for the two of you to act like a couple. Usually you had good reason, like someone being annoying and not leaving either of you alone, or someone hitting on either one of you but not getting the hint.

Other times, it was just to mess with your friends, your friends who were far too used to it and tired of it. At least 80% of the hang outs you all had would start with you and Jeno claiming you were a couple. The first few times they fell for it, but now it was just the normal. They weren't tired because it wasn't funny, it was kind of funny. Funny because the two of you were so clearly in love with each other yet refuse to act on it.

Jeno never protected anyone the way he protected you. You didn't care for anyone the way you cared for Jeno. You both had so many inside jokes that the others would never understand. You both could have conversations with just your eyes, you both knew things about the other that no normal friends would know about each other. You were both each other's first call when something went wrong, the first text in the morning, and your last text at night (if you didn't fall asleep while on a call). You both refused to get into relationships with other people, because somethings always felt "wrong."

Yeah, your friends had all decided that you were both idiots and the "wrong-ness" was always just that the potential partner wasn't you or Jeno. However, tonight you and Jeno had decided to commit. Your friends were going to believe it if it was the last thing they did.

"We're actually like really together this time, today is officially one week and 3 days," you tell your friends as you all settle down on the couch to start your movie marathon.

"We've fallen for that too many times now. Just give it up," your friend waves off.

"Yeah, start the movie," another friend sighs.

Jeno gulps, standing suddenly, "I think we would really just appreciate the support of our friends as we navigate our new relationship."

"Look guys, it's the same routine every time. You guys claim to be together and the only difference is that you take your usual affection to another level of annoying. If you were ever actually together, you wouldn't feel the need to announce it every few weeks or still be on dating apps. I mean, Jeno, didn't you ask me just a few days ago why you were still getting Hinge emails?" Your first friend asks, crossing their arms.

"Plus, I think you guys would be that annoying couple that would be shameless and kiss in front of us all the time," another friend pipes up.

Jeno's face falls into a serious look, he grabs your hand and tugs you up. Your chest crashes into his own as your eyes widen in surprise. The plan had simply been to cuddle, giggle, and maybe sit in his lap.

Your friends all paused, eyes full of caution as they watched the two of you. Jeno's breathing was uneven and nervous as his eyes searched your own.

You blinked and his forehead was pressed against your own and as you gasped in surprise his lips met your own. He was still for just a moment, giving you the opportunity to pull away, to smack him, to tell him he was crazy, but you didn't.

Instead, your breath hitched as you kissed him back. His lips were soft and his hands even softer as he delicately cupped your face. Your lips moved in sync, slow, tentative, but meaningful. You could feel your heart pounding in your ears, his heart was beating just as fast under your hand.

Your friends all eyed each other awkwardly. This had never happened before. It was only when your hand moved from Jeno's chest to gripping the cotton at his waist to pull him closer that they all got the message and left while high fiving each other on the way out.

You and Jeno were far too entangled in one another to even care. One of hands went from your face to your waist and the other went to the back of your neck. His gently tilted your head up to kiss you more deeply.

Everything was slow and passionate, but it felt right. There were explosions happening all around you, remnant sparks from Jeno's lips that shot right down your spine. Why had you waited so long to do this? Why had you deprived yourself of this feelings for all these years? You couldn't even fight how your body melted against his as your grip on his shirt became desperate and your lungs burned for air. You couldn't find it in yourself to pull away, too greedy for more, more, more.

Jeno pulled away first, lips swollen and chest heaving as he caught his breath. His forehead was pressed against your own, "I don't think we can be friends anymore."

A choked squeak escaped your throat involuntarily, "I'm sorry?"

"No, don't be sorry. I could have said that better," Jeno chuckles, his hands softly cupping your face to keep you from looking away. "I can't be just friends with you when I don't have friendly feelings for you. I can't believe it took this long, it's always been something in the back of my mind, but I think I love you-- no. I know I love you."

"After that kiss, I don't have friendly feelings for you either. I guess when I think about it, there's no one else that will get me like you. No one will ever know me better than you or understand me like you do. I love you too, Jeno. And I really, really want to keep kissing you," You confess breathlessly.

"I don't think they'd like it if we keep kissing, unfortunately," Jeno sighs, despite his words leaning in toward you again.

It's then that you notice how quiet your living room is. You pull away to look around the room, finally noticing that it's just you and Jeno in your apartment. "What the... when did everyone leave?" You wonder aloud.

"Who cares? Let's keep kissing," Jeno replies, tugging you closer. And who are you to argue?

[melobin]

thinking about being on holiday with boyfriend sungchan who takes you away. an all inclusive holiday where he packs for you, plans everything for you and only asks for you to be there. it’s sweet, romantic, relaxing. everything you could ever ask for. the only thing is when he said he’d pack for you, it happened to be all brand new clothes he brought you, most of which happened to be a little too small.

especially your bikinis.

they were too small, the bra barely covering your nipples and the bottoms struggling to hide your heat from his prying eyes. sungchan swore it was fine, no one would see you due to the private beach you had outside of your vacation home.

it’s okay baby, it’ll just be us. ending his sentence with a gentle kiss to your forehead and his fingers circling the skin of your hips.

granted, sungchan had been excited to see you in one of the bikini’s but he hadn’t anticipated how eager he’d be to get you out of it too. he swallowed back a groan when you approached him, tits bouncing with each step due to the tightness of the straps. he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, already feeling his cock harden at the sight of your body so exposed to him.

his calm demeanour didn’t last long, as soon as he saw you laid out on the blanket he had set down he was done for. sungchan found himself sitting beside you, resting one hand on the floor as the other slowly made its way down your body, pressing flat against your skin as it did. he took note of the way you sighed shakily, eyes hidden behind a pair of sun glasses. he couldn’t tell if your eyes were open or not, but he knew you wanted him to keep going.

his fingers grazed over the hem of your bottoms, tips pressing over the fabric as he pushed them aside and found your clit with ease. he knew you were already wet, neither of you were dumb enough to know why sungchan picked out such small bikinis for you. it was in his nature to be perverted, especially when it came to you.

he rubbed slow circles against the bud, watching as your thighs quivered lightly at the feeling before he put more pressure against it. sungchan loved foreplay, he loved the tension that built and how soaked you always ended up once it was over but today his patience was running thin. he needed to be inside of you. now.

he moved to kneel between your legs, draping both of them over his thighs before reaching over to push your sunglasses off of your head, the plastic falling onto the sand behind you. he wanted to see your face properly as he slid into you.

he held your thigh, his thumb keeping your bottoms pulled aside as he gripped the base of his cock in his hand. sungchan’s eyes were trained on your cunt, he found himself instantly mesmerised by the way your hole swallowed him. he pushed into you slowly, letting out a breath as he did.

god, he loved being inside of you.

“i knew you were hard” you let out a breathless laugh, your eyes shut as you took all of him. your voice was weak as you spoke, sungchan only groaned in response, the laugh in your voice only causing you to tighten around him.

his free hand dropped down to grip your other thigh, he squeezed the skin as he slowly pulled out of you before thrusting back in, being sure to sink all of himself inside of you as he did. he repeated the movement, eyes shamelessly falling onto the way your tits bounced with each sharp thrust. he found the material struggling to hold them in to be arousing more than anything else, watching the fabric slowly come apart and reveal the rest of you to him.

sungchan suddenly thought he was the smartest man alive getting you to wear such a sultry piece of clothing, he smiled to himself knowing the rest of your bikinis were just the same. maybe he could even convince you to go completely nude instead, under the guise of the fact your bikinis would be ruined anyway, being in the way as he tried to fuck you. knowing they’d end up covered in both his and your cum after.

he pushed the thought out of his mind for now, opting to focus on you instead, already excited at how the rest of your holiday would go.

[httpsdana]

hey!

love your work! i was wondering if you could do one about pau cubarsi and they get a pet and she pays all her attention to the pet and pau gets jealous or smthg?

thank you sm 💕

Puppy Love~Pau Cubarsi

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

this has got to be one of my favorite fics I've ever written. I need a Pau outside my door asap. enjoy <3

request from here

master list -> part 2

players/drivers I write for

From the moment y/n and Pau brought home their new puppy, Mochi, it was pure love. They'd both been so excited, planning out every little detail: his bed, his toys, the cutest little collar, and spending way too long debating whether “Mochi” or “Tofu” was the perfect name. Eventually, Mochi won out, and now here he was, a fluffy little ball of mischief that they both adored like their own child.

Pau was obsessed from the start. He would cradle Mochi in his arms, cooing, “Mi amor, look at him! He’s already the most handsome boy in the world. Right, Mochi? You’re perfect.”

She'd laugh at his cuteness, running her fingers through Mochi’s soft fur. “Wow, I think I have some competition now.”

Pau smirked, giving her a wink. “Sorry, cariño. Mochi and I? Unstoppable duo. He’s basically my mini-me.”

“Oh, so he’s already dramatic about meal times and leaving crumbs everywhere?” she teased with a smile

Pau gasped, clutching his chest. “Excuse me, I am not dramatic, and I clean up my crumbs… sometimes.”

The early days with Mochi were filled with laughter and cuddles, both of them cooing over every little thing he did. The two of them doted on him together, taking turns waking up in the middle of the night when he’d whimper or need to go outside, racing each other to see who could make it to Mochi first when he called for attention.

But soon, Pau’s schedule got a bit busier. He was away more for practices and games, and y/n found herself spending more and more time with Mochi. While Pau was out, she'd have little “puppy and me” dates, complete with treats, belly rubs, and mini photoshoots where she would send the funniest pictures to Pau, captioned with things like, Look at your competition or Mochi says he’s the new man of the house.

Pau would text back immediately. No way. Mochi can’t be half as charming as me. But then he’d send three heart emojis and demand more photos.

One evening, after a long day, Pau came home, eager for some quality time. He walked in to see y/n sprawled on the couch with Mochi stretched out across her chest, his tiny head resting comfortably as she scratched his belly.

Pau stopped in his tracks, crossing his arms and giving her both an exaggerated pout. “I’m gone for a few hours, and this is what I come back to?”

She looked up, stifling a laugh at the face he was making. “Jealous of Mochi, are we?”

He put a hand to his chest, looking utterly wounded. “Me? Jealous? Absolutely. This used to be my spot, you know,” he grumbled, nodding at the spot on her chest where Mochi was curled up. “I used to get those head scratches, too.”

“Oh, bebé, come here,” she cooed, setting Mochi down gently before opening her arms. Pau took his chance, practically launching himself onto the couch to snuggle up to her.

“Finally,” he sighed dramatically, burying his face in her neck. “About time you give me some attention.” His tone was teasing, but he looked so adorable that she couldn’t help but laugh.

y/n wrapped her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Aww, you poor thing. Mochi just missed you. I missed you, too,” she said, rubbing his back soothingly.

“Oh, good. Because I was about to start howling for attention myself,” he joked, causing her to burst out laughing.

“Maybe Mochi has been teaching you a thing or two,” she teased, ruffling Pau’s hair just like she did with Mochi.

Pau grinned, snuggling closer. “So, you’re saying I need to be more puppy-like? Alright then.” He scrunched up his face and gave a dramatic little whimper, making puppy eyes at her.

She playfully rolled her eyes, laughing as she stroked his hair. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Ridiculously cute?” he asked with a hopeful grin, his eyes twinkling as he leaned in for a kiss.

“Alright, yes, ridiculously cute,” she admitted, kissing him softly.

Mochi, clearly curious about the attention shift, clambered back onto the couch, settling down between y/n and Pau, his little tail wagging as he looked up at the two of them.

Pau raised an eyebrow, looking at Mochi. “Oh no, you’re not stealing my girl again,” he warned playfully. “Go on, go chew a toy or something.”

But Mochi just flopped down, resting his little head on her lap, looking far too adorable to move.

Pau sighed, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. My own puppy is trying to sabotage me,” he said, though his face softened as he reached over to scratch Mochi’s ears. “Alright, fine, maybe we can share the lap.”

y/n laughed, leaning over to give Pau a kiss. “Face it, babe, we’re a package deal now. You, me, and Mochi.”

Pau’s face lit up as he kissed her back, pulling her closer. “As long as I get first dibs on goodnight kisses. Deal?”

“Deal,” she agreed, grinning as she wrapped herself up in his embrace, Mochi happily snuggled between them.

From that day on, Pau made sure to reclaim his spot in the cutest ways— “accidentally” bumping Mochi aside to curl up in her lap or dramatically announcing his need for “emergency cuddles” whenever he saw her petting the puppy. The three of them settled into a perfectly fluffy routine, filled with laughter, and many sweet moments.

In the end, they both knew they’d created a little family, with enough love to go around—Mochi included, of course.

[yinemw]

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: coloring Satoru’s eyelashes like the rainbow 🌈 (gender neutral reader)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: none, just fluff

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: Gojo Satoru from JJK

𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“You love me, right?”

Gojo immediately hummed at your question, chewing his mochi as he entered the kitchen. Placing the packaging of the other treats he had bought for the both of you on his way home.

“That means you’ll let me do anything to you, right?”

“I’m both intrigued and scared of where you’re taking this” he raised an eyebrow, taking a seat next to you and placing a kiss to your forehead like he always did when he got home. “But sure, I’m yours, do whatever you want” he shrugged, knowing he was fully devoted to you. There wasn’t a task in the world he wouldn’t do if it made you happy.

“Great!” You smile, taking ahold of his hand and dragging him to the bathroom. His unfinished mochi almost falling to the floor from the sudden pull. A muffled yell escaping his lips as he chewed the rest of the sweet treat.

“I kinda like you manhandling me like this” he smirked after you had physically lifted the 6’3 man onto the bathroom counter. Reaching out your hand to wipe away the powdered sugar on his lips before starting to rummage through the cupboard “But shouldn’t I be the one standing for this?”

“You’ve got the wrong idea” you wave your hand in the air, practically bouncing on your heels from the excitement. “I’m coloring your lashes” finally you find the mascaras you had bought a few days ago online, the colors ranging from a deep blue to a vibrant yellow.

“You’re doing what now?” He took off his sunglasses, white lashes and ocean blue eyes taking your breath away each time. “When did you even get these? I’m with you all the time, I don’t remember you ever ordering these” he picks up the pink mascara with his slender fingers, inspecting it closer.

“Remember the day you bet Suguru you could eat more mochi’s then him? And you passed out after the sugar rush?”

“No…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought” you giggle, opening the green mascara and giving it a few pumps to see the color. “This will work so well on your lashes Toru, I’ll just need to use a smaller brush to color each section of your eyelashes the different colors” you think out loud, already searching for said brush.

Satoru was patiently sitting on the counter, feet dangling back and forth like a small child. He loved seeing you so happy and passionate about something, especially if it involved him.

“Ah-ha! Found one!” No time was wasted before you opened each mascara tube, taking a little of the color on the brush and starting to section Satoru’s lashes by color.

“What’s wrong?” He asks after a few seconds, seeing the frown between your browns. Your hands carefully holding his head in place as you worked slowly.

“I don’t think I’ve been this close to your eyeball before, it’s distracting” you mumble, biting your lower lip as a habit of concentration. Adding the red color over his lashes. Soon enough there wasn’t a trace of the pearly white color of his long lashes.

Storu lets out a snicker, placing his large hands on your hips to pull you even closer. Trapping you between his legs. All he could do was watch your concentrate as he tried to keep as still as possible, knowing you’d get all pouty if he made you mess up your masterpiece.

It took a few minutes, but you finished eventually. Placing the brush back down on the counter and letting satoru jump down. “Personally, I think I did a great job” you say proudly, watching as Satoru bats his eyelashes in the mirror. Who could blame him, he looked even prettier than usual with his rainbow lashes. “I don’t even care if you like it or not, this is not the last time I’m doing this”

“We should do my hair next”

“What?!”

He turns around to look back at you, such a genuine and almost childlike smile on his lips. “We should color my hair rainbow!”

Your jaw was practically on the floor, because how was he reading your mind? He wants you to color his hair rainbow? Willingly? He will let you? “And put a bow in it?”

“And put a bow in it!”

𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑏𝑦: ★

[planetpedri]

Pau with a girlfriend who has a condition who makes her faint a lot? I feel like he’d be so attentive and caring

I can and I will — Pau Cubarsí.

Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

Summary: Having extremely low blood pressure was the norm for you, but ever since you started dating Pau, he’d taken it more seriously than you had. And you loved him for it.

Word count: 700+

Disclaimer/s: Mentions of fainting , low blood pressure , accidents that’s happened from the condition , ect.

A/N: I didn’t want to write about something I couldn’t capture accurately buttt I used to have very low blood pressure and would faint because of it so I just went with this …

Pau was very… attentive. He noticed the slightest wobble in your step, the way your eyes seemed to go dull, or when you’d heat up. He’d taken every precaution to assure you wouldn’t faint. He worried a lot, and you hated to make him stress so much.

It was a particularly hot summer day, so the two of you decided it was best to stay inside. Pau had set his bedroom in the specific way you liked, almost like a cocoon of pillows and blankets. You’d planned on binge watching the new season of your favorite show, but you’d forgotten one simple thing.

“Shit.” You grumble, turning to your boyfriend. “I need to go get water.”

Pau nods in understanding, concern flashing across his face. “You sure you wanna go get it? I don’t mind—“

“Pau, babe.” You groan, “i’m fine. Sit back, chill out.”

Sometimes his protectiveness agitated you. It made you feel like you couldn’t do anything, despite knowing he didn’t mean to make you feel that way. You knew your words may have hurt him, so you compensate by placing a quick and tender kiss to his lips.

Sliding your legs over the side of the bed, you stand. Too quick. Your vision zooms in and out, spotting all around. Great. You were too slow to sit back down, your knees giving out beneath you.

Before you could fall, you feel Pau’s arms wrap around your torso, successfully stopping your tumble. “I told you I should’ve..” He trails off with a grumble, pushing the hair from your face as you collect your breathing.

“Don’t rub it in.” You grumble, the nauseating feeling pooling in your stomach as you allow yourself to slump into his arms.

“Lay down, i’ll go get you water and some crackers.” Pau frowns, planting a kiss to your forehead. He did that a lot, you’d noticed it was his way of checking your temperature without being obvious. “And some ibuprofen.”

Weakly climbing back into your cocoon, you toss the fuzzy blanket aside to let your body cool down. Your eyes remain closed even when you hear Pau’s heavy footsteps coming closer.

“Sit up.” He urges quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed with a glass of ice water and medicine in his hands, and crackers tucked under his arm.

You do as told, rubbing your temples. “What would I do without you?”

“Hit your head on a sharp object? Oh wait, you actually have already done that before.” He quips, the corner of his lip twitching, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Ha ha.” You mumble, taking the water and pills gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Always.” He says, giving you a genuine, but short smile. Every time you fainted or came close to it, he felt his heart stop. Sometimes, he felt like he could faint from concern.

Once you take the pills and drink your water, you get comfortable again with Pau climbing onto the bed beside you. He pulls you half way onto his chest, pressing play on the TV.

While you munch away and regain your strength, Pau’s fingers play with your hair, tucking strands behind your ear and repeating the soothing motion. When you finally feel better, you glance up at him.

“I love you, y’know that, right?”

Pau tilts his head down to meet your gaze, a smile forming. “Of course I do. I love you, too.”

Your lips form a tight lipped, almost shameful, smile, “I feel bad, you shouldn’t have to baby me. I should’ve thought about this stuff before we got into bed.”

“Hey,” his eyebrows furrow, “you don’t always have to do things on your own. I’m your boyfriend, I love you, and If I can help, I will. Always.”

You couldn’t control yourself. You loved this boy more than anything in the world. Setting your half eaten bag of crackers aside, you roll on top of him, placing kisses all across his face. All the while, you murmur dozens of ‘I love you’s’.

Pau chuckles through your burst of affection, putting a stop to it only so his hands could cup your cheeks. He pulls your face to his lips, greeting yours in a long, warm kiss.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any pau related posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby @unx100to !

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 10 | Newborn Miracle

summary: the time has finally come, you and chris are going to become parents. Both of you are filled with joy and nervousness at the same time since this is a big step both of you have to make now and you’re ready more than ever for the adventures that lay ahead of you.

warnings: none, just child birth but besides it’s just chris becoming a proud father

authors note: this idea is so adorable I love the concept of babydad!chris and I need more people to write about it, so this is your sign to go do that rn 🫵 luv yall silk and hope y’all enjoy this one

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

The sun had now began to rise, casting a golden color across the sky as I sat nervously in the passenger seat of Chris’s car, my hand clutching the hospital bag like it was a lifeline. Today was the day we had waited for, the day our lives would change forever. After months of preparing ourselves, endless conversations and debates about baby names and painting the nursery a soft shade of orange we were about to meet our little one. Chris was driving with a focused gaze I hadn’t seen before, his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

Every so often he would spare glances at me, his blue eyes shining with excitement. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, his voice being a mix of joy and disbelief at whats going to happen today. I turned to him, my heart racing as I speak. “I think so. I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” I replied, feeling butterflies fluttering in my stomach. The thought of actually becoming a parent was almost hard to believe . When we finally arrived at the hospital, the adrenaline kicked in.

We rushed through the automatic doors, our hearts pounding all together. The bright lights and the familiar smell of sanitary welcomed us as we checked in and were hushed towards the maternity section. The atmosphere was filled with anticipation but not just ours but from families around us, each with their own maternity story. After what felt like forever, it was time for me to be called in. Chris held my hand tightly as we walked together into the delivery room. My heart raced as I settled onto the hospital bed and feeling the cool sheets under me.

Nurses huddled around while preparing equipment for the delivery while Chris stood by my side, whispering soft words of motivation. Hours passed with the soft rhythm of contractions guiding us through the whole experience. Chris was never far from me and his presence felt like a warm blanket of comfort. He kept running his hands through my hair, his calming voice reminding me that we were in this together. “You’re doing amazing,” he softly whispered, his faith in me growing by the second. Finally, after what felt like an ongoing battle of will and strength, the moment arrived.

I could feel the overwhelming urge to push, and with each contraction, I used every ounce of strength I had left. In those intense moments, Chris’s eyes became my own. “You’ve got this, ma,” he reassured me, and I leaned into that support. With one final push and an intense surge of energy I didn’t know I had, we heard the most beautiful sound-our baby’s first ever cry. It was like music to our ears.

Suddenly, everything else faded away around us, the pain, the noise, the world outside. In that instant, all that mattered was the life that had just entered into our world. The doctor gently handed our baby to me, and my heart twisted with joy. I looked down and there they were, our little bundle of happiness in soft white blankets. Chris’s breath caught in his throat as he came closer with his eyes wide, filled with emotion all kinds of emotions. “Can I hold them?” he asked, his voice trembling with excitement. “Of course,” I smiled, shifting so he could take our baby.

Chris cradled our little one against his chest, and I watched as he radiated with pure love. He kissed their tiny forehead, an expression of shock shadowing his face. “You did it. You brought us this miracle,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion coming straight from the heart. Chris looked down at our baby as if they were the most precious treasure in the world. “I want to do skin-to-skin,” he said and I could see the excitement radiating from him. The nurses smiled approvingly and helped him gently remove his shirt, placing our baby against his bare chest.

The warmth of the moment hugged us as Chris’s skin touched our child’s delicate body. He looked at me, letting the little one into his now vulnerable heart. “Can you believe this?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Our little one squirmed, their little hand reaching for where Chris’s heartbeat lies. I could see a connection forming, a bond that would last a lifetime. Tears filled my eyes as I watched the two of the most important people in my life together.

It was a moment of pure beauty, one I will cherish forever. Chris looked at me and grinned, as his face radiated with joy. “We’re parents,” he said, still star struck, “and this is just the beginning.” In that room surrounded by the warmth of new beginnings, we held each other close, both over the moon and overwhelmed by all of it. Our family was here, and we were ready for the wonderful adventure ahead.

@hearts4werka

Guestlist!

| - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - |

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 7: The end of beginnings

genre: angst, fluff, a lot of introspection

word count: 9743 (MY GOD IT'S A LONGER CHAPTER)

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: you and spencer finally give into the tension that's been growing between you, but what happens now?

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

This chapter I'm dedicating to @chicaconfundidaycuriosa who makes my day with her hypothesis in the comments <3 thank you all for your support throughout this series!

“You do it.” 

“No!” You gasp, shaking your head so fast you feel like your brain is shaking too. “You do it!” 

“Your entire job is about people, you do it.” He insists, gently nudging you forward, but you don’t bulge. “Y/N, come on, it’s not that scary!”

“I’m not scared, I just hate talking on the phone! You wouldn’t know what’s that like, since you barely use yours.” 

“And now you’re diverging,” He giggles, pushing the phone over the counter to you once again. 

It has been almost thirty minutes of this and that is not really how you imagine spending your morning after all that had happened last night. For a moment there, Spencer’s voice fades to the background and all you can focus on are those beautiful, pink lips. Now that you know how they feel– the perfect balance of chapped roughness and natural softness; not now that you know how he tastes, something so naturally Spencer and minty toothpaste; not now that you know how he sounds when he whispers for more, more more. Not now, not ever.

Took you both some time to come down from the absolute high of acting like teenagers. What had started like a sweet, slow kiss, quickly turned into what teenagers would refer to ‘making out’, and suddenly you two were a little hurricane of hands, lips, and tangles bodies trying to make it to the room. The feeling of his hands on your waist, tugging you closer, pushing you down– “Y/N?”

Your cheeks explode in a fiery red shade when you realise he’s caught you daydreaming. 

Again. 

“Yeah?” Shaking your head slightly, look down at the phone being pushed between you two. 

“Are you going to call her?” 

To be fair, you haven’t really explained everything to him considering how… distracted… you were last night. And then this morning. And even now, mind going not so far away from the kitchen to the room, where absolutely nothing had happened last night. Absolutely. Nothing. Frustration settled after a while, a thrumming hum in the back of your head that never really let you fall asleep. It was only natural that after so long craving this, you had been excited at the thought of finally letting it happen, of allowing yourself to enjoy a moment that had meant as much in your dreams as it did in real life… but then you two made it to the bed. And you laid down. And suddenly, the underlying need behind every push and pull of his perfect lips against yours started to fade, and his hands that explored your body oh so eagerly started to slow down, and before you could say anything, he was backtracking to forehead kisses and getting up to brush his teeth. 

Like it had been just another day. 

Just another kiss. 

“I don’t want to,” You whisper back, eyes wide in a vulnerable state that has nothing to do with Abigail or the fact that you are about to hire her to take care of your store. 

This is not even about last night.

This is about this morning. 

This is about the fact that when you woke up, he wasn’t there. His side of the bed was tussled, and the pillows were thrown around, but Spencer was missing. For a moment, your heart sinks. You scramble around the bed, feeling out his side, searching for something, anything, that would give into your dwindling hope of last night not having been a dream, because god knows how many dreams you’ve had of him. But then you hear it, the sound of the shower running and the light humming of a man who has not a single musical bone in his body, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 

Then it downs on you. It wasn’t a dream. Spencer kissed you last night, that’s a fact. And now he’s about to come out of the bathroom and you refuse to let the first thing he sees, on such a special morning, be this messy hair, panicked face version of yourself. The way you roll out of bed, rushed to the point of tripping on the blankets and falling on your knees with a hiss, is enough to have you laughing at yourself. Your cheeks blush when you think of facing him so early in the day and despite the excitement of it all, you are nervous. What will he say? What will he do?

Making breakfast seems like a great way to ease your overthinking mind of any incoming anxieties, and it’s a simple matter of action and reaction. 

Action, breaking the eggs over the hot pan. Reaction, frying some eggs. Action, putting the bread in the toaster. Reaction, getting some toast to eat with your eggs. Action–

“Good morning.” Action, Spencer comes out of the shower.

“Good morning,” You call back, looking down at the pan with such an obsessions you barely notice him stopping behind you. 

You do notice his hands landing on your waist, though, and when he turns you around, you can smell the fresh scent of his minty soap he loves so much. His smile calms you a little, and he leans forward, coming down, down, down… until his lips touch your forehead. “Slept well?” He mumbles, reaching behind you for a toast and then walking away to grab his bag from wherever he hid it. Blinking, you can’t even answer his question. Is he fucking teasing you or is he serious? 

Safe to say, you don’t really speak up then nor later, and that’s how you two end up where you are, sitting in front of each other in a stupid battle over who calls who. 

“Why don’t you want to call her?”

Eyes cast down, almost in shame, you shrug. “I…” How do you explain it to him without sounding crazy? “I don’t know, Spence. She makes me feel… weird. Like she knows something I don’t.” 

“Oh sweetheart,” His nice words can’t hide the smile on his face. “It’s just change. And you’re human, Y/N, which means you naturally don’t like change. But it’s okay, I promise. You already asked Garcia to dig as deep as she could and nothing came up as suspicious. You also refuse to entertain the idea of hiring your second choice because you said, and I quote, ‘he grabbed a book with greasy hands.’ So, this is pretty much the only option you have.” 

Great. Instead of a kiss that you crave, you get the dose of reality check you deserve. “Thank you, Spencer,” You grumble, the irony of your words not missing the spot when his smile falters. You grab the phone to dealing the number you’ve been avoiding for so long, but you stop before pressing call. “Fuck.” 

“Y/N–“ The magic of last night is gone when his phone rings and you know he has to go. 

“Go,” You whisper, patting his shoulder with dejection. At this point, the morning is ruined and, to be very honest, he is partially at fault. 

A kiss is not something you would consider casual. You know a lot of people do, and that’s okay; you don’t mind about how other people live their lives. You do, however, care about what Spencer thinks and does, and in your books, kissing you and then ignoring it the next day is simply not acceptable. But then you sit with it for a while, and your brain starts whirring up. Usually, when you open your eyes, the sun is barely up and Spencer’s breathing is regular enough to keep your head going up and down, up and down, up and down. The more you two cuddle, the more you realise you love the sound of his heartbeat– you were yet to see him hurt, but you’ve heard enough stories from past cases that now, whenever you got that little extra confirmation that he is okay, you feel a sense of relief that you can’t really explain. Yet, that morning, when you finally make sense of what the fuck was happening without the your usual warm body next to you, you don’t feel relief. You don’t feel anything, to be very honest, because for a moment, your blood turns cold at the idea that Spencer might have woken up and regretted it all. 

“I feel like I shouldn’t,” He frown, cocking his head to the side in that way that makes you think he’s about to tell you something about yourself that you’ve never asked. “Y/N–“ “Go to work, Spencer,” You repeat yourself before pressing ‘call’. The phone in your ear is enough to keep him from trying to chase you. “Abigail? Hi! This is Y/N, from the bookstore… Yes. Yes, and from the uh, from the building. I’m calling with good news– you seem like the perfect person for the position. You– oh, no, no, it’s okay, you don’t have to bring me anything, it’s fine!”

This is the last thing you need– Abigail and her nosy nature. “What’s going on?” Spencer I next to you and his mouth is so close to your ear you shiver a little when he speaks. 

“Abigail, please, I’m about to go out and– oh, no, my… Spence is going to work. Thank you for offering to bake a cake but I’ll just se you at work, okay? Alright. Yeah, okay, thank you! I’ll be sending you a follow up email with all the information for next steps. Thank you! Have a good day! Bye!”

“Y/N, did Abigail do something to make you uncomfortable?” His hands on your shoulder that hold you at arms length are starting to annoy you. Now he didn’t even want you close? There is more to it and you know it. Above all, you’re not completely illogical, but your brain is working overtime and your heart is hurting, and now every little thing Spencer does will be an issue. 

Fed up with it all, you stomp your feet and walk away. “Go to work, Doctor Reid!” The impetuous way you huff as you turn around and slam the door of his room shut has him gasping, and you can hear if from where you stand, embarrassed by yourself and your ridiculous, childish behaviour. Still, you refuse to go back out there until you’re sure you’ve heard the door closing behind him. 

“Fuck me,” You mutter after you sit there in your own silence. The apartment doesn’t feel the same as it used to anymore. It’s not a matter of coming in and watering his plants anymore. You don’t just walk around looking for clues from the scattered books in his apartment anymore. You actually know things now. You know parts of his life that he had to tell you, parts that you didn’t have to guess, and it actually felt good— he was opening up out of his own volition and now you’ve ruined everything. Maybe you got greedy. Maybe you got greedy for his welcoming arms and whispered pet names. Maybe it all felt too good, and, just like Icarus, you might have flown too close to the sun, and now you are falling, wings melted and ruined. 

Before you know it, you’re already dialling your mom’s number. 

“Mom?” You are sitting on the floor, legs pulled to your chest with a ridiculous pout on your lips, and from the way she laughs on the other side of the line, you think she can hear it. 

“Well, look who it is,” She teases. It’s easy to picture her face when she says that. You two have made a dance out of it, this whole loving sarcasm thing, and she always go first. Naturally, you just follow her lead. “My daughter who forgot I exist.”

“Aw,” You smile, shaking your head in amusement. “Is this my mother? The one who knows how pick up the phone and dial my number if she wants to talk to me?”

You two laugh for a while before she speaks again. “I’m serious, sweetheart, I’ve missed you. I haven’t seen your face in a while and… and your dad misses you too, you know?” The slight sniffle on the other side of the line breaks your heart a little. 

“I miss him too,” You whisper, voice a bit too soft for her not to notice. 

“Y/N, is something wrong? Did something happen?” It’s no surprise your mom panics quickly when it comes to you, specially after everything that happened in New York. “Is it Josh? Did he find you?” 

God, how it hurts that she even has to worry about that. “No, no, it’s not Josh, it’s…” You are yet to tell her about Spencer. And not in the context of this entire situation with Cat, but about Spencer as the wonderful human he is. About his quirks and his love for books and his chess addiction and… and the fact that he has your heart in the palm of his hands and you’re scared. You’re so scared. “I met someone.” 

Her gasp has your eyes shutting– it’s so nostalgic, that noise of motherly surprise, that you can’t help but bask in it. Growing up, you had always been very close to your mother, enjoying days out together on Sundays and always trusting her to keep your secrets safe from the world. She was your biggest fan, too; supported you on everything you did, cheered from you from the sidelines of every game you wanted to try, helped you convince your dad to let you go to parties you never enjoyed. Never had she unfairly punished you, never had she betrayed your trust, never had she treated you with anything but love and pride. Hiding things from her is hard, possibly one of the hardest things you have ever done, and you hate how easy it’s becoming to deflect her questions and ignore her comments, because truly, all you want to do on days like this, where your heart hurts and your spirits dwindle, is to go to her and cry. Is that too much to ask? 

“Tell me about this person,” She immediately shuffles around and you picture her in the same living room you’ve grown up reading book after book. If you have to guess, she has her usual coffee mug next to her, an addiction you blame her for passing onto you, and she’ll throw the old knitted blanket she’s so proud of making over her legs.

“Well, his name is Spencer–“

“Spencer is a good name!” She whispers to herself and you smile. 

“It is,” You agree, stretching your legs in front of you and wiggling your toes, glad to be distracted by anything and everything that gets your mind off of last night. “He is a good guy. My favourite customer, actually. That’s uh, that’s how we met.” 

“At the store? That is adorable!” 

“Yeah, he reads… a lot,” That is the understatement of the century. “He was my first client when I opened up, and we kind of became friends and gotten closer. Then I kind of, uh, started apartment sitting for him, whenever he was away at work and we just–“

“Oh, what’s the apartment like?” 

“It’s… beautiful,” You mumble, looking around with a small smile playing on your lips. “The walls are this pretty shade of green and it’s really cozy? Books all around. I like it here.” 

“Here?” Oh no. “Wait, are you at his house right now?” 

“Yeah,” You mumble, picking the lose threads on the socks you borrowed, one blue and the other purple with polkadots. For the life of you, you couldn’t find matching pairs in his sock drawer. “I’ve been here a lot, lately.” 

“Is he out of town?” 

“No.” The silence that follows speaks volume, and for the first time ever, you realise that your mom might not be just worried. She scared, too; for the daughter she saw so happy one day and then moving cities the next. “Mom?” 

“I– I’m happy for you, sweetie,” Her words are kind, but the edge of hesitation is there. “And you’re not going too fast, right? You said you’ve known him since you opened the store, so that’s a year and something, and–“

The assumption that you are repeating the same mistake you’ve make with Josh annoys you. You’re not the same person you used to be, you’re not like that anymore– needy and blinded by love and all the shinny things it brought you. You’ve come a long way since then, and you know your mother recognises that, you do but… but you’re still embarrassed. Embarrassed about who you were. About who you loved. It’s a bit ridiculous, how whenever one of your parents bring him up, you immediately raise your defences, walls coming up so high you can’t even see over the green field of life that awaits you on the other side. 

“Mom,” You wince when your voice comes out a bit too harsh. “Sorry. Mom, I’m fine. We’re… nothing. I’m here because… because a pipe burst in my apartment and he was kind enough to let me stay at his place.” 

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry sweetie, I didn’t mean to– I mean, I’m glad you have someone to help you out when we’re so far away.”

“I wish you guys were here,” You whisper, slowly getting up to move to the living room. You immediately sit down in the armchair, grabbing your blanket and covering yourself. If you couldn’t hug your mom, this would have to do. “You’d love him.” 

“Yeah? Is he handsome?”

“So handsome,” You giggle, and it’s an instinct, looking to the side table in search of that familiar frame of Spence and his team at a fancy dinner. You love his smile when he’s happy, so wide and taut that it almost looks like he has too much emotion in proportion to his body. “And he’s so kind, mom. He’s kind, and gentle, and oh so smart. A genius, really.”

“Of course he has to be a genius to keep up with you and the hundreds of books you read in a year,” Her reply is comical when you think about it. The idea of Spencer having trouble keeping up with you, and not the other way around, makes you laugh. “So why do you sound so sad, if he’s such a great guy? He’s treating you good, right?”

“He treats me amazingly, it’s just that… we kissed last night.” 

“And it was bad?” Her teasing makes your shoulder relax enough until you are melting onto the chair. “That’s why you’re sad?”

“Mom! No!” Cringing, you hug the throw pillow closer. “It was great. Amazing, even! It’s just that it was our first kiss and then this morning he just… didn’t do it again.” 

“Oooohhh, I see what’s going on,” She chuckles. “You expected him to talk about this and he didn’t, did he?”

“How do you know?” 

“Because you dad was the same way–“

“Oh gross, no, no, no!” You refuse to fall onto this freudian trap. “I’m not dating my dad!” 

“Wait, so you guys are dating? Is this you telling me you have a boyfriend?!”

“No!” Groaning, you know you’re between a rock and a hard place. There is no escape anymore, and you have to come clean. “I don’t know! We kissed, but then he didn’t talk about it this morning and he just left like nothing happened, and and– and yesterday, he didn’t even say he likes me! I’m too old to be on this whole will-they-won’t-they thing, mom! I need verbal confirmation!” 

“Well, have you asked him? Or told him how you feel? Or tried to start a conversation?” 

Squinting at the phone, you huff, incredulous at her insinuation. Her correct insinuation. “Mother! Whose side are you on?”

“Always yours,” Your mother laughs. “Which is why I’m saying talk to him. If he won’t start the conversation, do it yourself. I raised an independent young woman, and this is the perfect time to prove it.” 

You wait a second before sighing. “I’m scared.”

“Of what, sweetie?” 

“Of everything. Of what happened before. Of it happening again.”

“Y/N,” Your mother say and suddenly you think you’re about to get scolded through the phone. “You can’t be afraid of your future because of one mistake you made in the past, sweetheart. I– I’m sorry we didn’t notice. I’m your mother, I should’ve noticed, I should’ve said something, and I’m never going to make that mistake ever again. So I’m saying something now. You haven’t sounded this excited about pretty much anything in a while. You… You sound like how you used to be. But better.” 

“Mom,” There is no one to witness the way your lower lip trembles at her words. Back then, you thought you were doing a good job keeping your parents safe from it all– you thought you were good at hiding the tiredness with makeup and the miserable tone of your voice with sweet high pitched laughter. None of your parents ever talked about what was happening, either. They didn’t ask questions like how your mom does now; they didn’t see past the beautiful necklaces, the pretty dresses, and the important parties. They were blinded, much like you were, with the fake promises of a happiness that never came. And now here you are, scared out of your mind to jump into this again, and yet, everything fades away when your mom guarantees you she’ll never let this happen again. As grown as you are, nothing reassures you more than your mom– your biggest fan and your biggest protector. 

“I’m scared too,” She whispers, like she’s telling you her biggest secret. “I’m scared my baby will hurt again and I won’t be there to help. I’m scared I’ll never be able to visit. I’m scared about a lot of things when it comes to you, sweetie. But I prefer to focus on the silver linings.”

Ah. So that’s where you get if from. “And what are the silver linings here?” 

“You being you,” It’s as simple as that for her. “And that’s all I really want.” 

For about an hour, you two stay on the phone, chitchatting about the randomise things. It’s no secret that you miss New York– the bustle of people, the endless lights, the pollution and its grey hue in the air. God, you miss it a lot, but what you miss the most is the ease of everything. Moving around is quick, whatever you need you just need to turn the corner and a deli will surely have it, and, above all, whenever you want to see your mom and dad, all you have to do is take the express from the Upper east side down to Midtown and you’re there. You’re at the same small apartment you grew up in, the same brick walls, the same loud neighbours, hell, even your room still looked the same as you left it! But that’s not what you need right now, even though you would love to see your old room with such new eyes… what you need is that feeling of warmth spreading through your chest when it dawns on you that you are home.

“Mom, I have to go,” You finally say. “But let’s talk more often, okay? I miss you and dad a lot.” 

“We miss you too, sweetie. I love you.” 

“Love you too,” Hanging up the phone is harder than you expected it to be, but you don’t have a lot of time to suffer in silence. 

Spencer is a man who naturally avoids all forms of technology. He is not the biggest fan of computers and cellphones, and whenever he texts you or calls you, you feel like you’re winning in life. You’re the exception to his firm, firm rule. But for work purposes, he had explained, he had to be reachable at all hours, meaning Spencer has something you haven’t see in ages– a landline phone. When it starts ringing, that nostalgic loud, shriek of a ring that never fails to make you feel like you’re about to have a heart attack. 

Instinctually, you reach for it as if you are the one expecting a call. It would be so easy to just pick up the phone and say Dr. Reid’s residence, how may I help you? Yet, you don’t. You stop yourself just as the tips of your fingers touch the phone and you pull back. This is exactly what happened last time– a box for him and the consequences ending up being yours to face. Since then, you’d like to think you’ve grown smarter, and so you let it go to voicemail. 

“Hello, Dr. Reid, this is Nurse Kenny from Bennington Sanitarium. I’m calling about your mother.” 

Somehow, this still feels like facing the consequences for something you didn’t do. 

—————————————

 In your defence, you did try calling Penelope before panicking. You called her, you called Spencer, you even called the BAU hotline in a feverish desperation to reach your boy wonder. All the hurt from that morning, all the pain and the insecurities immediately fly out the window as soon as the nurse hangs up with a final call me when you can. 

“Fucking hell,” You push your way through the crowd trying to make out of the subway station, everyone rushing through the steps to finally be set free in the loud streets of Washington, and if it was any other day, you might have taken the time to enjoy it. The sun is high, the air is cold, and the smell of coffee reaches you almost instantly. 

But there is not time to be happy when all you can think about is Spencer– his face crumpling up in that way it does whenever it goes uncharacteristically serious, his brows furrowed in worry, his hands frozen in place like the rest of his body. It kills you being the deliverer of bad news. It’s something you have always tried to avoid, ever since you were a tiny little girl and you had to tell your friends that no, you didn’t like My Little Ponies and then later on that also no, you didn’t want to go to that party. The disappointment in their faces always makes you crumble, give in, give up, anything to see them smile again. 

This time around, you can’t do that. You can’t give up, or tell him something he wants to listen to instead. This has to do with his family, and you don’t know anything about his family– so you know they mean a lot to him. Oddly enough, it’s one of his little weird habits that you find the most endearing; for someone that talks a lot, when it comes to the people he loves, Spencer doesn’t talk at all. Maybe this is the price to pay to work at the BAU… when the most despicable and inhumane people in the world know his name, he has to do everything in his power to not let them find out any other. 

“Ma’am, where do you think you are going?!” The security guard approaching you is, to say the least, terrifying. You forget that you have to sign up, so uses to walking in with Officer Kaper and his badge, except this time around, you didn’t have time to call him. You did everything Spencer told you not to do, and he will lecture you on it later, you just know he will, though you don’t really care about it, as long as he talks to you after this, you don’t care about what words come out of his mouth. 

Because sure, it was an accident– listening to the nurse’s message was an accident– but you still did it. There is no hiding it, you did it and my god, you feel terrible about it. Feels like something akin to looking through his phone while he is in the shower, close to searching through his letters at home, similar to reading through the annotations in his books. This is private. It wasn’t enough to be living at his apartment? Sleeping in his bed, stealing his clothes? You also had to go ahead and listen to his private messages? “I’m here to see Dr. Spencer Reid,” You say, lower lip trembling at the thought of a possible confrontation with this man. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but it’s urgent, I need to see him, I need to talk to Spence, he’s not picking up his phone and–“

“Do you have a form of identification? You have to sign in,” When he takes a step closer, you immediately shrink back, shoulders hunching forward in a tense attempt to cover yourself from his eyes. 

“Of course, yes, I’ll… sign in, but can you– I’m so sorry, but can you call Penelope Garcia? She is the BAU’s tech analyst, I think. She has a lot of computers and–“

“Get in line.” 

It’s an order more than a request, and you consider telling him to fuck off. Your nerves are high and you feel a sense of urgency that you have only felt one time before in your entire life– and that was when you moved to D.C. The thing no one tells you about signing in into the FBI is that is practically impossible. People like to think that all you need is a government issued ID, and technically, they are right– there is nothing else you can provide them other than you driver’s license, but the hoops they have to go through to grant you access add another ten minutes or so onto the wait that is already killing you. 

Until the clerk says, “Here you go, ma’am,” And gives you your visitor’s pass like it’s nothing. 

Like it doesn’t hold the weight of the world for you then, as you shove it into that stupid guard’s face and runs to the far left end of the hallway. At this point, you’ve been at the building enough times to know how to get upstairs, but despite the faint familiarity of it all, you continue to feel displaced and singled out whenever those beige walls surround you. Your oversized cream sweater is like a beacon of light in such a dim office, but it serves its purpose to keep you warm against the powerful air conditioner in there. How Spencer gets anything done under those circumstances, you don’t know, but the shivers travelling up and down your arms are enough to keep you alert and on the look out for the most likely presence to see– your favourite bright pink, bleached blonde geek. 

“Excuse me, can I help you?” He’s wearing a suit, much like the ones Agent Hotchner wears and you have to hold back tears. It’s all very intimidating, knowing that at any point one of these people could find you suspicious and start asking you questions. 

“Uh, y-yeah, I guess you can,” Clearing your throat, your hand squeeze the shoulder of your bag tighter, and when his eyes move to look at the slight movement, you know he’s a part of the BAU. You know he’s reading you like Spence does. “I need to find Dr. Spencer Reid,” Saying his full name still feels odd to you. “Could you maybe tell me where he is?” 

“Oh? Reid?” This expression you know– surprise. “Are you his girlfriend or something?” 

“His girlfr– I uh– I mean, I–“ It takes a moment for you to realise that if you say no, then you have to explain to this stranger what you really are to Dr. Reid, and that is a can of worms you rather not open right now, so instead of being honest like you always try to be, you blush and nod. “I uh, yeah. I am.” 

“Oh wow!” His genuine shock to the news ticks you off a little. It’s not all that crazy that Spencer would have a girlfriend, considering his charming awkwardness and his bright, beautiful smile. “He never mentioned a girlfriend before, I didn’t–“

“Is he here or not?!” You kind of shriek, widening your eyes in hopes to make him pity you enough to move on with this a bit faster. 

“No, he isn’t. I think his team just left for the tarmac, they got a case in this morning and–“ 

His voice fades to the background easily, your anxiety peaking through with that annoying ringing in your ear. Spencer left to another state and didn’t call you. Logically, you know that his job and his feelings for you, however good or bad they might be, are not connected. Logically, it is easy to make that distinction. However, you are not a logical person all the time. You are not a genius like he is, and sometimes, you let your heart lead; you let your emotions take over like a tsunami inside of you, crashing and crashing and crashing, until you are nothing but a crumble of what you once was. 

You are ready, too. Ready to give up and delay the inevitable until the nurse can reach him directly, until you’re not the one having to panic, until he can deal with this personally. Consider it an addictive habit of a you of many moons ago, a Y/N who let things go to protect herself and avoid unnecessary confrontation. Confronting Josh was never the best option, so you had to come up with strategies. Plans, schemes, lies. You hate that you’ve become good at those, hate that all the work you’ve done to leave those behind is now at risk, but something deep inside of you can’t let this go. 

Something that you know very well is the need to make Spencer proud. The need to be there for him after all the times he was there for you. It’s your time to be the hero. 

“Call Hotchner.” 

There is a harshness in your voice that is very much planted there. The same goes for the twitch of your brows, the bite to the inside of your cheek, the averting gaze to the floor. It’s time to tell the story the profiler wants to read, and you double down when you let out an exasperated sigh, pushing your disheveled hair back. “I need you to call Hotchner and get Spencer back here right now.” 

You shouldn’t want to laugh with how he fumbles with his phone, quickly dealing the boss’ number, but all amusement is gone when he mumbles something about an Spencer’s girlfriend and passes the phone to you. “He wants to talk to you.” 

“Oh god… hello?” You say, voice wobbling a little. 

“Miss Y/L/N?” In the background, you can hear some chatter and nothing else. Are they in the jet already? Have you failed? “Is everything alright? Why are you in the office?”

“I am truly sorry, sir,” You gulp down, glancing at the man in a silent request for some privacy. “But I need to speak to Spencer. He is not answering his phone and it’s an emergency. Penelope wasn’t answering either, so I thought I could come find her, but SSA Greenberg asked me if I needed help and–“

“Is that why you told him you were Spencer’s girlfriend?” 

“Family emergency trumps everything,” You explain, the heavy weight of you guilt settling in. For some reason, you think you got Spencer in trouble. 

“Miss Y/L/N, is this about your case? We explained that we would have cases alongside–“

“Sir, it’s his mother. I don’t know the details, but there was a call and they asked him to call them back as soon as possible.” 

The eery silence that follows has you holding your breath. You are not sure how much his team knows about the intricacies of his personal life, but they surely know more than you do, considering the immediate rustle you hear on the other side of the line.

“We’ve just arrived at the tarmac. I’m sending send Reid and Garcia back to help us from there,” Agent Hotchner says, voice dripping with authority. “Wait for him there. Tell Officer Kaper he will be relived as soon as Reid arrives.” 

“Office Kaper is… not here.”

“…We will discuss this later. They should be arriving in twenty.” 

“Okay. Okay, good,” You breathe out loudly. “Thank you, sir.” 

Once the call ends, once you give SSA Greenberg his phone back and evade all the questions he has about you and Spencer, once you push down the wave of relief that almost makes you fall to the ground… you make your way to Penelope’s office. You need credentials to walk into her lair, it’s not as simple as just opening a door– she is the gatekeeper of all things confidential, and you know not all people are authorised to walk in. The fact that this is the same woman who has invited you over for wine night and got so drunk she couldn’t stop talking about the one time she walked in on Morgan showering is actually insane. The Penelope you know can’t keep a secret for her life, but then again, this is not Penelope’s office. This is Garcia’s lair, and you need to remember that these are fundamentally two different people. Just like Spence and Dr. Reid. JJ and Jennifer. Prentiss and Emily. All of them had managed a level of separation that seemed practically impossible to you, leaving work outside of their homes in a perfectly packed box by the door. It makes you wonder, though, if when he walks out the door to go to the office, he leaves you behind in a box inside. 

Compartmentalising is not something you did well. You tried, back when you first arrived in Washington, at the recommendation of your therapist, but you seemed to struggle more than normal. At your core, you believe in honesty, in transparency, and despite everything you’ve been through, you never gave up on yourself, on your core self, not the self you’ve created to appease Josh. Though you did forget about her, for a while. Distracted by your new life, you missed your old self like you miss old high school friends; remembering the good old times but still doing nothing to reach out. 

Just like you told your mom, you’re scared it will happen again. That you’ll lose yourself in the beautiful world of Spencer Reid and lose sight of what matters– yourself. You might have learned this way later in life than you should have, but a relationship is a two way road and now you know that. Now, you want to know that, you want Spencer to show you that. There is a kind of romance in how he leaves books for you to read next to the armchair, a certain indication that he knows what you like. A type of care in how he buys the shampoo and conditioner you mentioned you liked one time almost eight months ago. This is where you are trying to meet him at, ordering the rare books he’s so desperate after through your unique contacts. Making him breakfast before work. Unfolding the corners of his books. Even though you express yourself better with words than actions, you don’t miss the way his eyes sparkle a little extra whenever he sees his coffee mug filled up for him first thing in the morning or how he always pretends to be caught off guard when you bring him a surprise book from the store. Spencer can read you like he has been born to do so, and yet, he still played along. For you, he’d always play along. 

Which is why, when they found you sitting on the floor next to Garcia’s office, he plays along. “Are you more comfortable there than sitting on my desk?” 

His casual tone shocks you a little bit. Scrambling to your feet, you meet him and Penelope halfway. “Spence!” You gasp, hands stretching out to touch him, feel him, ground him, anything. You just need to make sure he is paying attention, the hands on his biceps squeezing it slightly. “Spence, you need to call your mom! Something happened, and I tried calling you guys but you weren’t picking up, so I came here to tell you that you need to call her, you–“

“Y/N,” Spence whispers in that way that makes your heart speeds up. His eyes are stuck to yours, shinning with something you’ve seen before, something you’ve seen last night. “Y/N, my mom is okay. Hotch told me to call her as soon as he sent us back, she’s okay, everything’s been handled. Are you okay? Sweetheart, you’re sweating…” 

Garcia’s gasp falls onto deaf ears as you and Spencer lose yourself in each other. “I was nervous,” You mumble, trying to pull away and dab at your forehead, but he’s on it. His hands catch you by the elbow and gently bring you closer into what slowly turns into a hug. “I’m so sorry, Spence, I didn’t mean to listen to the message, I swear I didn’t, I was just there and the machine–“

“I know,” He nods his head distractedly and gently wipes you clammy skin with the wrist of his sweater. “I know, Y/N, you don’t have to apologise. Thank you for coming all the way here to look for me just to tell me to call my mom. I truly appreciate it.”

“Of course I would,” There is something building between you two, a tension very familiar to you now that you’ve been watching it pile on for the past couple of weeks. 

For Penelope, though, it is certainly news. 

“OH MY GOD!” 

Snapped out of the trance of those honeyed eyes, you turn to look at your blonde friend with a pale complexion. “Pen, no–“ 

“OH MY GOD, YOU TWO BONED!” 

“What?! No! Absolutely not!” Spencer takes a step back from you like he’s suddenly troubled by thought of being that close to you, and you can’t really hide how your heart breaks a little at that. 

“Yeah… apparently absolutely not,” You repeat, coming back down to your harsh reality since the bubble burst.

“What– What just happened?” She utters, but you don’t really give her a chance to develop her line of thought, grabbing the access card from her hand and swiping it through the reader to unlock her door. “Wait, wait, what–“

“I’ll stay here with Pen,” You say without looking back at Spencer. Your job here is done and until Officer Kaper can come pick you up, you know they won’t let you leave the building. “I’ll call Mike for a ride, so don’t worry about me going back alone. I–“

“He’s not here?” Spencer asks, looking around with that adorable confused frown of his. “Wait, Y/N, did you come here by yourself?! Didn’t we talk about–“

“No Spencer, we didn’t! We didn’t talk about a lot of fucking things, and then you left off this morning like you didn’t want to talk about it and, and, and I was panicking, okay?! You didn’t pick up the phone and I’m a big enough girl to take the subway alone!” Your voice certainly raises enough to have people looking at you two, and your cheeks fire up in embarrassment. You are causing a scene at his workplace, and in your opinion, that is unacceptable. Gulping, you look down, tugging Penelope into her sacred space and closing the door behind you. “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I’m really sorry.” 

“Y/N, wait–“ But the door closes midway through his sentence and despite him having access to enter, he knows better than to press on a sore spot. 

The worst part is that you kind of want him to. And you hate that part of yourself that wants such a reactive behaviour from this peaceful man. Spencer does plenty to show you he cares, even if he does it in his own quiet, subtle way, and that is enough for you. Fuck, that should be enough for you. Yet somehow, nothing seems to shut up that voice in your head telling you that yes, he is enough… but you aren’t. In your overthinking mind, you know that you are too average for Spencer. You’d never be able to keep up with him, with his spectacular brain and his humble attitude. At best, all you offer him are books, some observations here and there, and a warm body to hug at night. At worst, you’re a burden to a man who already carries the entire world on his shoulder. 

“You two?!” Penelope’s dramatic gasp is enough to put a pause on your pity party. “Boy genius and you?!” Scoffing, you sit down on the chair she pulled for you. “I know… sounds ridiculous, right? I mean, the man is a genius and I’m… well-read at best.” 

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, we’re not going there,” Barely does she know you’re already there, that you’ve been there this entire morning. “What happened? Last time we talked, it was a crush and nothing else! And now you and boy wonder are ‘sweetheart’ing each other and the forehead kiss was just so adorable and–“ 

“We kissed.” 

The way it comes out to her, unlike how it did with your mom, is a confession rather than a posing issue. It makes your heart race and your sad face lifts for a second, enough to let a giggle escape. This is what friends are for, and you are happy to be living through this again. 

“YOU WHAT?”

“Pen, don’t shout!” You whisper, looking at the door like it’s about to slam open at any second. “What if someone hears?” “Would that matter?” She laughed. “You basically told the biggest gossip in the FBI that you are Spencer’s girlfriend.” 

“Oh my god,” You groan. Slowly getting comfortable in your chair, you pull your legs up to your chest and let your head fall on your knee dramatically. “He’s going to hate me.” 

“Now why on Earth do you think that? I’m pretty sure Spencer has had wet dreams of you calling him your boyfriend.” 

“Penelope!” It’s suddenly way too hot in her office, your entire body flushing instead of just your cheeks. “You are wrong, by the way… He had a whole dinner planned, you know? He was turning his apartment into the perfect date when I got back home, and he was cooking and he looked so good, Pen, so, so, so good and we just– I mean, it just happened! And then…”

Penelope is holding onto your every word, perfectly painted lips biting on her fluffy pink pen. “And then…?” Her wiggly brows are a dead giveaway of where her dirty, dirty mind is going. 

“And then, just as we get to the room…” You repeat, leaning forward as if you’re about to tell her the biggest secret of your life, only to deflate right after. “He pulls away, kisses me on the forehead, and goes to sleep.” 

“No!”

“Oh yeah,” You sigh, body crumbling in a defeated lump of limbs. “And then this morning? Nothing. Nada. Not even a peck on the lips as a ‘good morning’.”

“Oh wow,” She says after a moment. You find some comfort in how she seems as wordless as you were early today. “Oh wow, that’s… wow. It’s impressive, but it’s not shocking. Still, it’s… wow.” 

“Not shocking?” You shriek. “It’s very shocking!” 

“Oh, sweet pumpkin,” There is so much comfort in the clicks and clacks of her heels when she gets up and comes to give you a hug. Admittedly, Penelope’s hugs are much like one of a mother; warm, caring, and all encompassing. It’s enough to heal wounds you didn’t even know you had, like she is searching your soul the same way she searches the web for evidence– with expertise. “I sometime forget you’ve never known little boy genius when he was, well, little. Our pretty boy over there is not… the best with people.” 

“That’s mean, Pen,” You sigh, frowning a little. He might not say much about his feelings, and sure, sometimes Spencer is quite reserved to his own mind in a way that makes you think he assumes people won’t really understand what’s going on up there, but never has Spencer made you feel uncomfortable or bad about yourself. Saying he is ‘not the best with people’ actually upset you because despite a couple of hiccups here and there, Spencer is great with you. He remembers everything you say you like or dislike, he cares about your opinions even though sometimes you feel like you’re just saying the obvious, he is gentle with his touches and hugs. “Spencer is amazing, he’s always so careful with everything and everyone, and he’s so kind, and gentle, and considerate. He’s just too in his head sometimes, but that’s okay! So am I, so is everyone, you know?”

“It’s so cute how you’re quick to jump to his defence,” She teased, shaking you a little by the shoulders. “I know he’s all of that, trust me. I would die for Spencer– no, that’s too easy. I would kill for Spencer, and I actually almost did once! And–“

“Wait, what?!”

“And what I’m trying to say is not that he is a bad person, but that he can get a bit awkward. Try to think from his perspective, Y/N, the kid went to college when he was 14. All those crazy life experiences we had in college, he didn’t. And then he joined the FBI, and time just… got away.” 

“Are you trying to tell me Spencer Reid is a virgin?” You gasp, mouth hung open in surprise, because from the little action you two had going last night, you would not have betted on that. 

“God, no… or at least I don’t think so, but what I am trying to tell you, my cute bookworm, is that his experience is… limited to a couple of people. Very different people. One of his exes was a famous actress kind of people. They did long distance every single time kind of people.” 

Little by little, the engines in your brain start turning, and things start making sense. “He never… had a proper relationship?” Somehow, this makes it feel like all that weight that is sitting on your chest, the pressure of figuring everything out by yourself, the racing thoughts that can’t leave you alone… it’s all gone. All easing up in a lighter mist of confusion and sadness. 

Her curls bounce around her face when she shakes her head. “Not that we’ve known. So just… god, please give him a chance. He’s a good egg, a perfect egg, even! Just a bit confused with his own brain and, and, and he’s probably wondering what’s the proper procedure from here on out! He’s probably confused and wondering what to do and– and he’s so happy, Y/N. This morning, he couldn’t stop smiling. He didn’t tell  

Morgan to shut up when he made sex jokes. He didn’t hog the coffee machine. It was like he was in his own little world and it was so cute to see him finally acting like the boy he should have been all along. I don’t want to see that go away.” 

Penelope Garcia has a tell that you are pretty sure she doesn’t know about. It usually peek through her desperate rambles that you love so much, squeezing her voice out of her until she’s barely speaking. You know she’s self-conscious about her rambles, the amount of times she has apologised to you enough proof of it, but when she starts feeling guilty, like she’s staying something she shouldn’t have been, Penelope’s voice dies down, to the point that her mouth is moving but no sound is coming out.  

“Pen…” 

“I know you like him,” The intensity of her eyes behind her glasses is enough to have you looking away. “I know you do, you like him so much that you broke your security protocol and ran to the FBI to tell him that he needed to call his mom. Please don’t give up on him.”

“I’m not,” You whisper back, shaking your head so fast your neck hurts a little. “Pen, I’m not giving up on him, I don’t think I ever could. I’m just… insecure. I understand Spence’s experience is unique to him, but mine is unique to me, and I think we’re both in the learning process. I just wish he would’ve talked to me, you know? Spencer kissed me like there was no tomorrow yesterday and this morning he didn’t even acknowledge it. What if he doesn’t want to do it anymore? What if he changed his mind? You know, his brain works too fast and he could’ve thought about all the future scenarios in which this goes wrong and–“

“You know, sometimes you two sound so much alike that it’s scary. I’ll tell you the same thing I told him, get your head out of your ass, it’s not a hat.” 

“Hey!”

“Your intrusive thoughts are shitty!” 

“That is a really weird way to put it–“

“What are you two talking about?” Turning to look at Spencer, you’re surprised to see him all packed up with his satchel hanging by his side. You deflate a little at how ready he is to leave, thinking he’s going back to the tarmac to meet up with the team wherever they are, but he beats you to the punch. “Y/N, ready to go home?” 

“Oh,” You scramble to get up, grabbing your bag and your visitor’s pass and then nodding. “Yeah, I guess. Are you coming with?”

“Yeah, I told Hotch I’d be working from home in case my mom’s nurse called again,” He gives you that tight-lipped smile you love so much and you kind of swoon. 

“Alright,” You give Penelope a hug goodbye and from then on, you find yourself in the longest stretch of silence you’ve ever been before. 

The tension is there, taut enough that you feel like your stomach is being pulled out of your body every time he sucks in a breath a bit too hard or opens his mouth just to close it again. Every time, you think he’s going to initiate the chat, and, every time, he doesn’t. It disappointment after disappointment, and by the time you two make it back to his place, yo can’t keep it in anymore. “Spence,” You call softly, letting him open the door the the building without rush and following him inside. As per usual, he’s quick to let you lead, gesturing politely for you to go up first. “Spence, we need to talk about last ni– Abigail, what are you doing here?”

You’re not even at the top of the stairs when you see her, all sweaters and ponytails standing by your door. “Oh, hi boss!” Her joke makes you cringe a little, but you smile nonetheless. You must’ve done something to alert Spencer of how uncomfortable you actually are, his hand sneaking to grab yours as he squeezes past you to stand one step above, body almost covering yours completely. “Oh. Hi.” 

Her tone change is obvious even to your layman ears, and you squeeze Spencer’s hand in nervousness. “Abigail, right?” He asks, a small smile playing on his lips as if he’s trying to be nice, though the squint in his eyes tells a whole other story. “Good to see you again. Did you move in okay?” 

“Yeah,” The way she moves her head to the side, trying to get a glimpse of you, has red flags raised all up in  your head. “All moved in and ready to start work on Monday!”

“I’m happy to hear you’re excited, Abigail!” You reply with a forced chuckle, climbing the extra step to stand side by side with Spence. Your hands are intertwined behind his back, his fingers playing with yours, and if it’s to keep you calm or himself, you don’t know. “I’m excited for you to start at the store, too. Is there anything you need, though? I know I said I’d send you a starter email and a draft of a schedule, but I just haven’t had the time today. I’ll work on it as soon as I can!”

“Oh, no, no, no hurry!” Once she can see you, it’s like her whole persona changes. She’s bubblier when she’s talking to you, shoulders less tense and voice less tense. “I was just coming here to bring you this. It got delivered to my apartment by accident, but it has your name on it.” 

From behind her back, she pulls a brown package. It’s small and thin, and it doesn’t seem so have any logo on it. “Y/N, are you expecting something?” Spencer whispers, eyes not leaving Abigail’s hand and for a second you let yourself panic enough to believe she’s carrying a bomb. It felt like she was carrying a bomb. Like it was going to blow up and your entire life, your entire re-construed life with Spencer by your side, and everything would soon come crumbling down. 

“N-No,” You stutter back and your body goes frigid cold when Abigail takes a step forward to you two, arms stretched out to give you the package. “Oh my god, no, no, no one knows I’m–“

Quickly grabbing the box, Spencer wastes no time in getting you inside the apartment. “Thank you so much for bringing this, Abigail, but we really have to get home. As promised, you’ll hear from Y/N soon on that starter email. Have a great rest of your day!”

“Wait, I wanted to talk to Y/N about–“ The loud slamming of the door drowns her words out. 

Before even looking your way, Spencer is on the phone. “Hotch,” He breathed out, eyes wide in that crazed way that you’ve only see once before, in your shop when he had his gun out. “She found Y/N.” 

You know you can’t call this an ending, not when you two never even had a begging…

“We have to relocate her.” 

But it surely feels like one. 

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

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[vinjinssunglasses]

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♯┆summary; With the mention of a rebellion against your lover and a third party mysteriously arising in the midst of a war, Haruto’s home life.. All piling upon themselves, worry after worry. The last thing you want is bloodshed.

♯┆ tags; established relationship, implied child abuse/neglect, canon divergence,

♯┆ w/c; 3.8k

♯┆ a/n; plot-heavy, somi park training arc 😭 help im so tired

───────────⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────────

That night you rested in his loving arms, his hair draping over your body. No matter how gentle he were, singing you sweet lullabies when he realised you were still awake, your body simply refused all efforts to relax.

Stress has taken over your mind, and it’s as if your not the one in charge if your body. Has anything even changed? Everything you did seemed futile. Whats the point of even trying anymore?

Your turned your body more into his warm chest, and tried to forget everything. Clear all these useless thoughts, push them to the back of your head and finally let your mind relax. They crawled from the pit you banished them to and caused trouble as if to taunt you.

What did Shintaro mean that day? Rebellion. Shingen, pronounced dead? There’s a reason why he’s the leader, have they all forgotten? Deep down you know he will remain undefeated, yet the thought of him paralysed on the floor, crimson blood pouring out of his body gnaws at you. What would his last words be? Why, what, when, who — is it just impossible for you to rest easy?

Shouldn’t you tell Shingen? Sitting up, his hand draped from your waist to your thighs, and he wearily blinked awake.

“What’s the matter? Can’t sleep again?” Shingen muttered, half-asleep.

“Yeah. I’m going to go get some fresh air and a drink. You go back to sleep, alright baby?” You placed a kiss upon his forehead, and he rested against the pillow once more, taking your word.

The cold breeze of the night calmed you only a little as you walked towards the kitchen. Stars and moon alike, you watched as they formed detailed constellations upon the sky — one of a knife and a moon. That reminded you: Shingen would always call you his star, and you’d call him your moon. His favourite inanimate thing was the moon, shining brightly at night and disappearing by day. He’d say it’s represent him as youth, however not going to deeply into it. Shingen’s expression whenever it came up in conversation were.. unusually troubled. As if it haunted him and had to shut it out for years, just for it to reappear when he least expects it.

It made you wonder what happened, who made him this way? If anything, you wanted to seek revenge, and yet you couldn’t.

Rules must’ve stopped him from falling in love with you in the first place, just like how rules are stopping you now. If it wasn’t so frowned upon, you would’ve taken uo marital arts and higher education. Being born into this life stopped you from being you, stripping you from your talents to being in a uniform, dystopian society called impossible expectations that we name as the ideal life for women and those alike. Same with Gun, your only son, becoming a slave to this system.

Letting out a sigh you didn’t realise you were holding in, you carefully slided open the door, revealing the room you were so used to seeing. Leaning against the counter, taking steady small sips while sneakily opening a tablet of sleeping pills, you could only hold your head in your hand. You’d be damned if anyone realised you snuck in pills like these, yet you needed them. You hated the fact you needed them. Each time you swallowed it down your throat, it only reminded you how you were so dependent on this clan. Having your families reputation boosted this way was the only way to recover it in the first place, realising how much they’ve messed up everything.

You cursed under your breath, and a headache came upon you. It must be from all these unwanted thoughts reappearing.

“I see you’re up late.“ A familiar voice echoed in your ears and you turned to look at the tall figure, Shintaro. Worst timing. You were only wearing a small nightgown, you were dressed too informally to be met with someone of upmost authority. Undeserved authority. Rules were the only thing he cared about. Setting aside his own emotions and others morals, he made sure everyone fit into this idolised society. Its was as if it were our fault we were born and raised into this life. The way he re-enforced these problematic beliefs were like it were law, despite not abiding to the real law in the first place, resorting to violence when and whenever he pleased. His manipulative tactics made it seem as if he were a befitting leader for the clan, drawing everyone in with the whip of his fan and his smooth tone of voice. Shintaro’s undeniably astounding looks have him the upper hand, even the other ladies from other clans chattered amongst themselves when they found out weren’t married yet, flirting with him whenever the opportunity arises. As they say, ‘you should marry into power and wealth.’

It wouldn’t be wrong to say they gained and admired Shintaro more than Shingen’s leadership. Shingen may be blinded at times, yet he had the brain capacity to understand complex situations and arise new rules and regulations when change were necessary. He weighed the benefits for the people, always upholding them as first in his mind, as they were to live peacefully under his guidance. On the other hand, Shintaro twisted the rules to fit his own narrative, manipulating them as to seem Shingen made it this way, to seem as it were his fault the Yamazaki were so divided. You didn’t trust him and avoided all communication and conflict, as he’ll make them turn from you too. It was no use anyway — they already wanted your head on a pitchfork.

“Yes. My apologies for any disturbance I’ve caused, I’ll go back to my room—“

“Wait.” Shintaro started, taking slow steps towards, gazing down upon your avoidant one. The moonlight cast shadows over the room, completely still, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Every ounce of your being anticipates his next move, and your breathing stopped.

“Why won’t you rebel? Can’t you see we’re all unhappy under his rule?” His hand lifted to rest upon your shoulder, the force crushing your collarbone just enough not to break it. The knife was sitting there in its rack, and it felt as if it were staring at you, begging to picked up. If this were to go on, he may as well break your shoulder.

In one swift motion, you ripped the knife out of its rack, its sharp end reaching his lips, glistening in the moons radiance.

“Didn’t you hear me the first time? Unless you want your head splattered on this floor for me to clean up, I don’t want to hear another word.” Stern, serious and strict. Underneath this facade, you were shaking. Knife trembling in your fingers, you upheld your scrutinising gaze, watching as his hand fell to his sides. Shintaro didn’t want to admit that he saw Shingen in your eyes, the same look he gave him that day. The same strength that beat him once before was in you. It dawned upon him that you may have the ability to become as strong as Shingen one day, however that was only a meaningless hunch. Someone like you is simply just a joke.

“I could make you my wife, and give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Unlike him, who only disappoints this clan. Why would you want a leader like him? Talk to the people of this clan, wouldn’t you?” Grasping onto the knife, Shintaro pointed it towards the ground gently.

“Didn’t I say I didn’t want to hear another word from you?”

“One last chance. I’ll give you one, last chance.” He swerved in closer, breathe cold against your ear. Gripping onto his collar, you shivered, pulling him away.

“Get out of my sight, you hear me? Next time, I’ll delve this knife into your throat.” You growled, the thought of it all making your blood boil.

Shintaro sighed, accepting that boneless threat as an answer. “Fine, as you wish.” Yet you knew this wouldn’t be the last time he would do this. Having you in his side would make one less corpse to clean up, and an easier way to excuse the bloody murder he were scheming.

The two of you exchanged one last glance, and the tension eased as you were left alone to your own thoughts. All this time you avoided troublesome matters like this, and it finds you when you least want it. The knife rested in its holder once more, and you took a deep breath. Ignoring this won’t do you any good, yet telling your lover he may perish in cold blood doesn’t seem exactly appealing. In fact the opposite. It pains you to even think about it.

Again, you’re up until morning once more, resting in the sun’s golden rays. Taking a deep breath, you entangle your fingers in your lovers hair, eyes lingering over his facial features. He slowly winked awake and rested his hands over yours, mumbling a ‘good morning’ under his breath.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, I just woke up early, that’s all.” You sighed, pressing a kiss on his cheek. Of course, you didn’t want him to worry, he must be too busy himself anyway. For years you’ve been independent, so it won’t be any different now.

“There’s no need to lie. If there’s something the matter, I promise I’ll make it right.” The gentleness in his eyes soothed you, yet not enough to let those damned words spill out of your mouth.

….,

Word has spread that Gun has taken up Aikido. That day you prepared his lunch, and decided to watch him train. The smile on his face when he saw you sitting in the side warmed you, as you enveloped him in an embrace.

“Mum, youre here.” He cheered, doing small punches in the air to show off what he’s learnt.

“Of course. I’ve just been a little busy lately. Look, I made you tteokbeokki.” You smiled. It was your favourite thing to watch him being happy, knowing it might not last long.

“My favourite!” Gun licked his lips, clasping onto your hands. “I’ll train extra hard today, okay? Watch me, watch me!” He hadn’t seen you in ages. As a young boy, he wouldn’t understand, and doesn’t need to even take notice of your situation.

“It’s time for training.” The Kojima brothers, also one of the many supporting Shintaro’s leadership. As if they’re his personal bodyguards, they spread his propaganda like major gossip. Perhaps the news about the rebellion is being tossed around as the second passes. Shigeaki passes a distasteful glare at you before diverting Gun’s attention to the task at hand.

Since Gun was only young, they decided to teach one of his nephews how to do Aikido as well. They couldn’t personally spar with him because of the height, age and experience difference, and an intelligent opponent like Haruto would be well-suited.

Similar in age, the only difference was their upbringing. Haruto was a secluded boy who was subjected to the cruel opinions that he were useless because of Gun’s existence. Instead, his mother offered reading. In her view, if he couldn’t be the best at fighting, why not intelligence?

It almost reminded you of Shingen’s and Shintaro’s situation. He was born to succeed, while the other was made to cover up after his mess. Since Shingen were the oldest, he were given privileges like fighting and only sometimes playing around. Shintaro, on the other hand, were interested in martial arts yet never got the opportunity to persue it like he did. The notion that he were to protect his brother — no, dedicate his life to him — eventually seeped through the cracks, and jealousy took over. Nobody cared what Shintaro did, whether he ran away or not, he was always in the shadows. Shintaro always presumed he never struggled, having everyone by his side supervising him, yet little did he know he did.

He didn’t know that Shingen didn’t like training for so long, knowing his only purpose being only to prosper and become the heir to the Yamazaki clan. They only praised him for his fighting abilities, nothing else. This clan only critizied his interest in artistry’s and such, To leave a peaceful life and play games with his brother were his goals, yet Shintaro only treated him with coldness. The awkward, suffocating air between them never subsided, and still persists until today.

For centuries it was like this, and old tradition that you plan to cease from existence.

Haruto used strategic methods to trick his opponent, Gun, to the floor. What the Kojima brothers didn’t know was that intelligence and usage of technique was also important in a battle. Jonggun was trained to use brute force, which was in fact also crucial, yet he didnt have the ability to predict his next moment, therefore his next attack was based off of quick thinking. The way he grabbed his arm and flipped him into the floor resonated with you, something inside made you want to learn that too.

Then again, it would be against the rules.

“Auntie, did you see that?” Haurto smiled, pulling you in to a hug. He’s just a young boy too, why can’t he also train to be the best? Why are we, as humans, so dependent on a genetic abnormality?

“I’ll beat you next round!” Gun pouted, sticking his tongue out, teasing the other. Haruto made a snarky remark back, and they quickly started getting ready to spar for another round of Aikido.

Haruto’s mother doesn’t deserve him. No, not at all. You’ve noticed how he always comes to you for his troubles, advice and support. On the outside, she seems like the perfect mother — sparing only kind words to her only son, caring for him — yet in private, what does she do? Those bruises speak for themselves; just what has he gone through? At the occasion his long sleeves that he always wears slips up, a new one appears, and he shakes it off like it’s normal, changing conversation or distracting you while he pulls it down. Guilt washes over you as you couldn’t bear to admit that his experiences would haunt him for the rest of his life. Nobody deserves that.

“Mum! Are you watching?” Gun’s voice, steady with his hands in starting position, bring you back to reality. You clap and cheer with a smile, and watch each and every step. Haruto wins once more, and Gun slumps over towards you, disappointed.

“How about you two teach me how to fight in Aikido style, and I’ll give you the tteokbokki I made. Fair trade, huh?”.

…..,

In Korea, Gapryong’s Fist Gang rests in the comfort of their calm surroundings, under the warm light of a chandelier in the midst of a cafe. Warm light crests a warm atmosphere, the coffees fumes diffusing into the warm breeze the windows let in. Idle chatter

Jinyoung’s mysteriously studying human anatomy, sneering while holding his pencil ever-so intimately. Gapryong peers over his shoulder, taking a quick peek of the monstrosities he’s been hiding recently. Strangely scientifically accurate art pieces of the human skeleton, limbs, organs and veins. His obsession with skulls were disturbing, graphically capturing every hollow, rounded and crisp surface of the cranium. Teeth. After beating his victims, he’d pull out their teeth, collecting them in jars to preserve them. Not just any tooth, the wisdom tooth were his favourite. If he could, he’d slice each finger — in fact the whole hand — and inspect each and every crevice. Teeth were easier to steal and nearly as satisfiying.

No matter how close these four men were, fighting all their battles together, none of them knew the twisted layer under his skin that were slowly taking over.

Jinyoung has suspiciously became quieter recently. Before he’d wear a smile on his face and kick up conversation like it was nothing, offering hand wrestling or the sort. Now? He’s preferably keep to himself, not saying much and focusing on that sketchbook. The scratching across the page, eyes peeled, breath becoming more dragged by the second. Insanity? He’d be the last one you’d suspect. Someone as outgoing as him would never, or so the other three members thought.

Do they even know eachother?

“So, about the Yamazaki Clan,” Gapryong starts, finger tapping against the table. “The police showed up last time, and we had to flee. What a bore.”

“That’s right. I’m sure they’re dwelling in Korea still.” Elite yawned, breaking eye contact with a grin that didn’t seem so frustrated.

“I’m sure we’ll get em next time, y’know?” Gapryong bites his bottom lip, leaning back in his chair.

Silence dawned over the atmosphere, as if someone was wanting to say something, yet left it to the next person. Elite took a sip of his tea, not lifting his eyes off of his cup while tapping his foot on the wooden floor. You could never tell what thoughts were running through his mind. Its was only obvious by his course of actions, what steps he took and what blood he shed. Actions and foreshadowed speech were the way to figuring out his intentions, it were no use to just ask him, being such the perfect liar he is. Precisely, this is the reason they didn’t predict his newest project, designed to leave thousands of corpses, particularly the three bodies he wanted. And he won’t stop until he gets what he wants. Call him greedy as you may, but a guy like him has no bounds to getting what he pleased.

Maybe it’s the trust between them all, why they didn’t suspect him. All these years must’ve meant something to all of them. To Gapryong, it was true friendship — who didn’t like someone to trust and keep company? To Tom, it meant loyalty, a group you could share anything to. Nowadays it felt like that idea has went astray. To Jinyoung, — well, the Jinyoung they used to know — it was exploring the world with the people you value most, laughing all night with a couple of drinks. To Elite… What was it to Elite?

He pulled up his glasses, scanning their troubled faces that avoided the other’s eyes.

Tom sighs, taking it upon himself. “You’ve all heard about that clan recently taking over…” Elite’s breath stopped, batting his eyes in disbelief. Jinyoung paused, letting out a sigh before continuing scribbling. Gapryong frowned, running his hands through his hair, swigging his chapstick out of his pocket.

“That’s right. It’s becoming worrying. I beat down some of the lapdog’s of the organisation, yet none of them will speak, no matter how much you torture them.” Jinyoung spoke softly, voice remaining neutral, yet his heart felt like it was the end of the Fist Gang. No, it can’t be over yet. Not before his plan takes place.

“Then we’ll have to talk their boss.” Gapryong spoke, stern, completely set on the idea. Whether it meant a simple polite introduction or a brutal brawl rid of mannerisms, his determination remained intact. Gapryong wasn’t the type to give up.

“Y’know what? Let’s drink tonight, I want to meet some lovely ladies before I do.” He smirks and passes a seductive wink over to the barista standing behind the till, watching her blush and rush to cover her reddened face. “Who’s with me?”

Tom agrees and Elite pauses for a second, eventually nodding. Jinyoung sits still, despite the wait for his reply. They all expected him to cheer and boost the atmosphere.. Yet nothing passed his lips.

“You’re not coming again, eh?” Tom breaks the silence once more, trying to look in his eyes for answers but to no avail, as his overgrown hair drapes over his face. Jinyoung shakes his head.

“Hey, you’ve been slouching all this time, shouldn’t you stretch? C’mon, it must be tiring. Loosen up a litle.” Tom tried to use the enthusiasm Jinyoung always used to and reach his hand over his shoulder. However before he knew it, his hand was squeezed with a strength he had never felt before. It felt as if his grip has restricted blood flowing into his hands, making them begin to numb.

Jinyoung’s gaze finally lifted over his sketchbook, and they finally got a glimpse of his face. His twitching eyes were an unusual shade of crimson red, each vein eeringly connecting from his sclera to the inside of his lower eyelid. Jinyoung always loved applying chapstick, loving the soft and glossy feeling upon his lips, except this time, they were chapped, with open, bleeding wounds and drool edging at the corner of his lips.

“I’m fine.” Jinyoung muttered, rubbing his tired, bloodshot eyes. No one muttered a word, staring with shock. What could they even say? Their friend — their once friend, as they could barely recognise the man he’s become — is now.. insane? Insane was the first word that came to mind to all of them. And all of them knew they weren’t far off.

….,

“Shingen. Haven’t you heard about that new clan has risen recently?” You ask, while raising your fork to your lips.

“Mmm. It seems so.” Shingen’s voice trails off, taking a sip of the transparent wine provided. “Perhaps it could be a problem. Especially since the Fist Gang and our clan are still under conflict… It is a relief we wasn’t arrested last time.”

“We’ve recovered well. Although a third party seems suspicious. Someone must be backing them, not every odd gang that shows up can be that strong and popular that quick.” You mention, and now that you think about it properly, hidden forces must at play here.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, huh? It won’t be a big deal. Like any other gang, they’ll fall to the hierarchy around here.” Shingen tries to reassure, using his authoritative tone to try and distract you from the concern written all over his face. He already knows they’re wiping out other small gangs and clan, then heading for the big prize. Nobody can be certain that they’re next, therefore it’s no prediction that they’re preparing their forces.

A third force making things complicated at a time like this cannot be a coincidence. At first, Shingen figured it must’ve been that cursed man’s Fist Gang, yet it’s unlikely they would. Someone’s pulling the strings behind the scenes, however there are no leads to show so. Only mere baseless intuition.

It makes you wonder — who? Each are loyal to their own side, especially during a tense time like this. They must’ve known a huge scale war between two major clans were going own, taking this into their advantage. Your eyes look down upon the food in front of you, then to your lover sitting opposite you.

Him, as a corpse? Dead, in front of you, his body cold. His pulse not throbbing anymore, breathe not passing his lips. Blood spilling under his body gallon by gallon, at an alarming rate. You could only cry as his eyes didn’t flutter open no more.

You’re overthinking again. Just another one of your tainted daydreams.

[fluentmoviequoter]

S.O.S.

TO!Tim Bradford x fem!TO!reader, fluff, 0.8k+ words. You and Tim are in grave danger, and it's up to your rookies, Lucy and Jackson, to save you.

Lucy Chen SOS!!!!!!!!!!🆘 

Nolan and Jackson look at one another, wondering why Lucy is texting them an SOS from the bathroom. She rushes back before they can stand from the table to see if she really needs help. 

“Code red, worst case scenario, this should be the standard for defcon 1,” she rambles as she leans against the table. 

“Uh… there was no toilet paper?” Nolan guesses. 

“Do you know what SOS means?” Lucy questions. 

“Save our ship,” Jackson says. His eyes widen suddenly, and he adds, “No.”

“What am I missing here?” Nolan implores. “Is this about your TOs or something?”

“Yes!” Lucy and Jackson answer. 

“She’s on a date. Here. It doesn’t look like it’s going well, but I think Tim knows,” Lucy tells Jackson. 

“Why does your TO being on a date have anything to do with Tim?” Nolan asks Jackson. 

“Because they… they’re great for each other and dancing around it. They’re the perfect ship.”

“My head hurts,” Nolan complains as he lowers his forehead into his hands. 

“What do we do?” Lucy poses. 

“You said the date wasn’t going well?” Jackson repeats. “We can use that.”

“What?” Tim says when the call connects. 

“Tim, uh, there’s this guy at the restaurant we’re at that is not being nice to his date. At all,” Lucy explains. 

“And? Do something about it,” Tim replies. 

“He’s with my TO,” Jackson adds. 

“Which restaurant?” Something shuffles on Tim’s end of the call, and Lucy silently high-fives Jackson as she answers. 

“Tell her the truth, Tim,” she encourages before ending the call. 

You examine your fingernails under the table as your date tells you how terrible his last girlfriend was. One of your friends set you up on this date, but you’re seconds away from walking out. 

“One little slap - accidental! - and she stormed out,” the man concludes. 

You look up then, shocked as you repeat, “Slap? You hit a woman and you’re telling me about it?”

“I wouldn’t do it to you,” he promises. 

You exhale sharply in disbelief, then move your napkin from your lap onto the table. Before you can say anything, your date reaches across the table and takes your hand tightly. 

“Sir, you can’t be in this area without a table,” the hostess calls.

Tim runs into your table, sees the grip the man has on your hand, and demands, “Let her go.”

You pull your hand away when his fingers loosen, then stand and wrap your hand around Tim’s bicep. 

“Let’s go,” you whisper. “He’s not worth it.”

“I’d have to agree, sir,” the hostess says. “Please don’t disturb the other customers.”

Tim looks at you and stares into your eyes to ensure you’re okay. He turns toward you after you nod, catching your hand as it falls from his arm. He leads you out of the restaurant but stops beside his passenger door. 

“Thank you,” you tell him. “I don’t even know why I agreed to the date.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No, no. He hurt his ex from what he told me, but-“

“I don’t care about her, or him,” Tim says, carefully holding your face toward his. “I care about you.”

“How did you even find me?”

Tim sighs, and you laugh once before shaking your head at his lack of an answer. Tim uses his hands on your jaws to pull you close, and when he kisses you, everything makes sense. All the longing, the fear of seeing each other in danger, the arguments, and the lack of interest in anyone because you compare them to Tim Bradford suddenly allow you to realize that you love him. You move your hands to hold his wrists as you move with him, kissing him like your life depends on it. 

“Thanks for coming,” you whisper as you move back. 

“I always will.”

“Are you going to tell me how you found me?”

“Lucy called,” Tim mumbles. 

“What was that?”

“Our rookies are nosy,” he speaks up. 

You smile, straightening Tim’s collar as you agree, “I should’ve known. How are we going to get back at them? Push-ups? Big staged break up?”

“Let’s figure it out later,” Tim replies as he opens the car door for you. “I think you’re owed a good date.”

Inside the restaurant, Lucy and Jackson cheer as you kiss Tim. 

“You know they’ll make you pay for this,” Nolan reminds them. 

“Unless they’re so happy they forget about us and the misery they think we deserve,” Jackson argues. 

“Your TO? Maybe. Tim Bradford? Not a chance.”

Lucy’s smile drops, and she falls into her seat. “I saved our ship, but endangered my soul.”

“You’ll be fine,” Jackson assures. “Just bring her up every time he’s mean and you’ll be fine.”

“Leverage,” Lucy muses. “It could work.”

“And if it doesn’t, just lie that she’s in danger. It’s worked before,” Nolan adds. 

Lucy and Jackson watch him eat a bite of their shared appetizer before asking, “Have you done that?”

“It’s not just your ship.”

[severinageto]

A terrible idea (or just things without context) — ONE SHOT

Satoru had a long, exhausting day. Boring meetings with the higher-ups, endless administrative work, and Panda, Maki, and Toge somehow more unbearable than usual. So when he got back to his apartment, he didn’t bother picking up a book or turning on any of his consoles. He just dropped himself onto one of his expensive sofas and, without even taking off his blindfold, closed his eyes.

His hair fell in shining waves, his skin smooth and pale like fine porcelain, his cheeks flushed, his sleepy cat-like eyes, and his slightly parted lips—all coming together in that same exquisite way Suguru always did. To top it off, with one finger resting on his lips and lying on his side on the bed, his eyes sparkled with that same look he used to give Satoru years ago, full of unspoken desires.

“Why don’t you lie down next to me, Satoru?”

Satoru knocked himself on the head a couple of times. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

“What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. You’ve taken so long. Weeks, months, years. I think it’s finally time, Satoru.”

Satoru looked out the window. None of this made any sense. He searched for something out of place, some sign of where he was, but his room looked exactly the same as always. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember how he’d ended up here.

“Time for what?”

Suguru sat up in bed, motioning for Satoru to come closer. Naturally, he did. Suguru cupped his face, kissed him softly on the lips, and, very slowly, whispered:

“To kill me.”

Suddenly, the room filled with a black haze, surrounding them both. Suguru began to laugh and rubbed his right arm as if it hurt.

“This is a dream,” Satoru murmured.

“Took you long enough to figure it out. Well…” Suguru started combing his hair with his fingers, and Satoru noticed them beginning to stain with blood. “…that’s my point. You’re always late.”

Satoru grunted. He knew what was coming, but, as always, he wanted to try probing his subconscious just a little further.

“Suguru, do you…do you want me to kill you?” he asked softly, in the gentlest way he could, given the nature of the question.

Suguru stopped laughing.

“I’m already dead, Satoru.”

Satoru shot up, his heart pounding intensely as the memory of the nightmare still lingered. His breathing was rapid, almost gasping, and he felt a few cold drops of sweat trickle down his forehead. For a few moments, he stared at the ceiling, as if that could somehow erase Suguru’s words from his mind. He could feel the weight of the anguish in his chest, the emptiness that vision left behind, but little by little, his breathing steadied. With a deep sigh, he got up from the sofa and walked to the kitchen. As he calmed down, he opened the fridge, grabbed a tub of ice cream and a can of Coke, then sat down again and started eating in silence.

Suddenly, an idea struck him like lightning. He picked up his phone and opened Instagram.

“Every time I dream about you, it’s because…” he murmured to himself, typing Suguru’s username. “…aha.”

A genuine smile spread across his face when he saw that, once again, Suguru had unblocked him.

What a terrible idea.

A moment earlier

Suguru was rubbing lotion onto his hands, taking his time, reflecting on his day.

Three exorcisms, two meetings with investors, and one interview. A pretty busy day, but they were all like that. The life of a leader wasn't easy-there were countless things that needed his attention, which kept him running around constantly. He didn't complain, but he was tired. Really tired.

Miguel and Larue noticed how his busy life was taking a toll on him, so they offered to take the twins on a weekend trip. At first, Suguru refused, saying he wasn't tired, that they were imagining things, that it wasn't necessary. But after the sorcerers listed some things he could do in peace-like taking a bubble bath, having a few glasses of wine, or watching a movie-he decided to go along with it.

Maybe it was exactly what he needed.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror, smiled, and began combing his hair. It felt strange to have time for himself; he'd forgotten how much he enjoyed it.

"What can I do now?" he wondered aloud, inspecting his eyes up close. He grunted slightly, noticing his skin looked a bit dry.

"Right. Good idea, Suguru."

He went to the bathroom, applied a face mask, and set a twenty-minute timer on his phone. Then, he lay down on his bed.

"Just while it sets," he murmured, yawning loudly before closing his eyes.

Suddenly, he found himself in a store he hadn't visited in years-since his teenage days, to be exact. He felt thirsty, craving one of those sodas he used to get there all the time. He started looking for it in the coolers, but they weren't there. Instead, he found four doors, each in a different color: yellow, red, and blue. He clicked his tongue. He didn't want to go through any of them. He turned around to leave the store, but the place had turned into an ethereal force field.

"I hate these dreams!" he exclaimed as he turned back to face the doors. He examined them and, after a minute, figured out the obvious. He let out a deep sigh.

"It's not fair that you get two colors," he muttered, opening the blue door.

"It's not my fault," said Satoru, appearing through it. "You know that."

"What are you doing here?"

Satoru shrugged.

"It's your subconscious, bangs."

Suguru looked at him for a moment. The Satoru in his dream looked exactly as he had almost ten years ago. Slightly longer, fluffier hair, the school uniform, and his ever-present glasses. He laughed. He'd been thinking about his teenage years a lot lately, so this made sense.

"Why do you look like a kid?"

"'Like a kid?!"

Suguru burst out laughing.

"You know what I mean."

Satoru pulled a piece of candy from his pocket and began chewing it.

"I think it's because of the door color."

Suguru glanced at the doors again, then raised an eyebrow.

"Who's behind the yellow one?"

"You, if you hadn't killed all those people. Wanna see?"

Suguru scoffed, then shook his head.

"Not interested."

"You scared, bangs?"

Geto moved away from Satoru and stood beside the red door. He put his hand on the doorknob and smiled flirtatiously.

"I assume behind this one is you in that annoying mummy getup."

Satoru laughed and offered him another candy.

"You love it. Admit it."

"Uh-huh."

Gojo got close, their noses almost touching. Suguru swallowed. He knew this was a dream, but even so, he couldn't shake the guilt he felt getting aroused by a fifteen-year-old kid.

"You love all my versions," Satoru whispered, bringing his hand down toward Suguru's crotch.

"Okay, okay, if this is gonna be one of those dreams, I'll take the mummy!" Suguru blurted, moving away and cracking open the red door.

"Too late to change your mind," Satoru replied, looking over his glasses.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean if you open it, you get neither. Know why?"

Suguru sighed. He already knew the answer.

"Because blue and red make purple."

"Bingo! And what's behind the purple door?"

As soon as he said this, a fourth door appeared. Suguru's heart began to pound, a nearly paralyzing fear creeping over him.

"I don't know..."

"Nah, you know, Suguru."

Geto didn't answer. He backed away from Satoru, desperately searching for an escape.

"I want to wake up."

Satoru walked over, grabbed him by the neck, and pulled him toward the door.

"Open it first," he ordered.

"Let go of me, jerk!"

Gojo tightened his grip, and Suguru started to feel short of breath.

"We're in this fucking mess because of you, Suguru, so open it!"

Suguru shook his head, repeating over and over that he wanted to wake up. Satoru released him, only to grab him by the hair.

"WANT TO WAKE UP? OPEN IT!" He threw him against the door, and Suguru had no choice.

As he opened it, Satoru walked through, and the teenage version vanished.

Suguru, catching his breath, looked at this version of the albino with curiosity. It was the same Satoru he'd seen less than six months ago, but instead of his blindfold, he wore a black headband over his eyes.

"Suguru! Are you alright?" Gojo knelt down and hugged him, thin tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Suguru. Please, forgive me. I had no choice. You...you didn't leave me a choice."

Suguru didn't reply. He just clung to him, fear freezing him in place. He hated being there, hated how real it felt, and hated finding comfort in this Satoru-his executioner. Gojo stroked his hair, continuing to beg for forgiveness.

Fed up with being trapped in his own mind, Suguru broke free from Satoru's arms. He looked at him closely and saw, even under the thick headband, that Satoru's eyes were full of pleading.

"How... how can I ever escape you, Satoru?" he asked, his voice breaking.

Satoru slid the headband down to his neck, his tear-filled eyes locked on Suguru's.

"You can't."

Suguru woke up suddenly to the sound of his alarm, his heart pounding like he’d run a marathon. Quickly, he rushed to the bathroom, ripped off his mask, and his body doubled over, tense, as he vomited. Panting, he sat beside the toilet, waiting for his breathing to steady. His mind was blank, and all he knew was that he wanted to feel better and forget what he had dreamed. At that moment, he wasn’t asking life for anything more.

Suddenly, without knowing why, he reached for his phone. He opened Instagram, went to Satoru’s profile, and unblocked him.

“If I can’t beat you, then…” he murmured, pulling out another mask.

What a terrible idea.

A moment later

Satoru didn't wait even a second to message Suguru. He knew Suguru had unblocked him so he'd see his photos and stories, but more than anything, so he'd talk to him. This game was a familiar one for both of them.

You unblocked me, Geto-sama.

Suguru noticed his phone light up six minutes after unblocking him. Seeing Satoru's name and photo, the weight of that dream lifted, if only for a moment. He opened the chat and set a nine-minute timer. It seemed like a reasonable amount of time to leave him on read.

When Satoru saw his message had been read, he scoffed but felt his heart speed up. Even though he knew Suguru was doing it on purpose, a part of him feared he'd get blocked again before he even got a reply.

Once the timer went off, Suguru grinned.

Mischievously, he began typing nonsense in the message kithout sending it, just so Satoru would see the "typing" bubble for a few minutes. Occasionally, he'd stop, letting the bubble disappear, then start again-an orchestrated symphony to get on the albino's nerves.

Satoru, on the other end, had an unprecedented urge to wring his neck.

Suguru finally stopped typing. He waited a minute, sighed, and then picked up the phone again.

I suppose I did, Gojo Satoru.

—————-continues in https://archiveofourown.org/works/60470752

[danikamariewrites]

I’ll Always Have You

Rowaelin x reader

Warnings: tattoo needle

Sitting on the padded table I anxiously shift around. My thigh bouncing involuntarily as I wait for Rowan. Aelin gives my hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

Looking at her calm face I feel the anxiety in my stomach loosen.

“Don’t be scared,” Aelin murmurs. “The needle only hurts at first, then you get used to it.” I let out a long sigh, releasing my nerves. But the longer Rowan takes the more I think about having a needle repeatedly poked into my skin.

Rowan finally returns, ink and needle in hand, an excited look on his face. He sets everything down on a side table, laying out the sketch of your tattoo.

Rowan doesn’t talk about his artistic abilities much. He gets very shy when Aelin and I bring it up, which is very cute. The big fae warrior getting all blushy because of compliments from his mates.

Staring at the sketch again I smile. It’s a physical reminder of the love I share with my mates created by Rowan with all the thought and love in the world.

Rowan gently grasps my chin, tilting my face to look at him. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We won’t be upset with you,” he says softly.

I shake my head. “I want to. I’m ready.” He softly kisses my forehead before instructing me to take my shirt off and get comfortable.

Aelin runs her nails against my scalp, pulling my hair forward and off my back. My shoulders jerk from the chills she gives me.

“Hey,” Rowan chastises her. “She can’t be moving so hands off.” I can see Aelin roll those stunning eyes of hers without looking. “Buzzard,” she mutters.

I sneakily link my pinky with hers, turning my head to give Aelin a smile. She leans down and lightly pecks my forehead before scolded again.

“Ok,” Rowan holds the needle ready with ink above the middle of my back, “If you need a break don’t be scared to tell me. And remember to breathe through the pain.” “Ok,” I respond, already taking calming breaths.

On the first prick of the needle my eyes started to water. I held my breath for a few more stabs until my body adjusted to the pain. Remembering Rowan’s instructions I start to breathe again, squeezing Aelin’s hand.

After two long hours Rowan set the needle down, wiping gently at my back. My accelerated healing already closing the small wounds across my skin.

Rowan presses a soft kiss to my shoulder. “You did amazing, love.”

I groan, pushing up on my elbows, careful not to aggravate my skin. “Thanks Ro,” I sit up, crossing my arms to cover my chest. Aelin quickly slips one of Rowan’s undershirts over my head.

“Can I see it?” Rowan nods excitedly. Leading us to the bathroom he turns my back to face the mirror above the sink while he holds another in front of me. Lifting my shirt my breath catches and tears line my eyes.

“Rowan,” I breathe out. My eyes widen in shock at the beautiful black ink decorating my back. “It’s beautiful.” Silver lines my eyes as I stare in awe.

A pair of wings spread across my shoulder blades, the feathers made up of the Old Language. Our story together. My story, my survival and strength, finding my path to my mates.

“You really like it?” He asks, a little timid. I look up at him, disbelief on my face at Rowan asking such a thing. “Of course I do.”

Pushing up on your toes, you wrap your arms tightly around his neck. Rowan hugs you back, careful to not aggravate your tattoo. “We love you, y/n. So much.”

[emmawithtwoms]

The history of magic classroom

@wolfstarmicrofic day 9, 988 words

The history of magic classroom has always been, in Sirius’ eyes (and all of Hogwarts’ really), the best place to take undisturbed naps. Professor Binn’s voice always acted as white noise for the tired students, and the extremely boring class was always taught in the early mornings, lulling all of the pupils, who still hadn’t managed to rub the sleep out of their eyes, back into the dream’s realms. 

Well, all of the students, except for one. 

Remus Lupin was, quite possibly, the only boy in all of Hogwarts to not only manage to stay awake during Binn’s lessons, but to actually enjoy them, taking notes and gladly sharing them with the rest of the class, also helping younger students revising and giving many free (and actually interesting) lessons for whoever was in need. Not even Lily Evans, classified swot, could bring herself to enjoy that class, but to Remus, it was one of the most interesting lesson in Hogwarts, managing to stay top of his class every year. 

That’s why that particular Tuesday morning was exceptionally grimm for poor Remus. You see, not only January’s full moon came on a Saturday night, not only it came the night of his anniversary with his incredible, stunning and fabulous boyfriend (his words, although Remus totally agreed), making him too weak to properly celebrate (with a date and very through snogging session, in his mind), but the moon was also a bad one, leaving him bedridden for the following couple of days, impeding him from participating to his favourite classroom. 

Therefore, the pout on his lips and his grumbling while alone in the infirmary were totally understandable, even if not shared by his friends. And that’s how Sirius found him at the end of the school day: reading a (very boring, in Sirius’ opinion) book about the goblin revolution that they were studying in class, with a very prominent crease on his eyebrows given by his frown (Sirius believed that the frown hadn’t left his brows sinvìce that morning, when mrs. Pomfrey forbid him to leave the infirmary). 

“Moonyyy, you know you shouldn’t frown, it will give you wrinkles.”

Sirius proceeded to smooth the wrinkles on his forehead with his thumb, followed by his lips. He clearly saw all of Remus’s tension leave his body, making him melt against his boyfriend’s affections. 

“Hey pads, how was the school day?”

Sirius took his hand and started playing with his fingers, as he often did when talking to him. 

“It was fine, I managed to charm Snivellus’ chair so that he got stuck to it during Charms, and Mulciber got detention for causing an explosion during potions, it was brilliant”

“And I guess you had nothing to with the sudden blowing of his cauldron”

“Actually, my dearest Moony, I did not, even if I wished it was my doing. No, I think this time it was Evans and the girls, getting revenge after hearing that prick bad mouthing some muggleborns. You know, those girl can actually be pretty scary, when they put their minds into it”

“Oh yeah, tell me about it, we just gotta be thankful that they decided to be our friends, otherwise we would be screwed.”

“And all thanks to you, my Moonage daydream, you charmed our way into their hearts, opening the door for us to sweep through and settle into their lives”

“Huh, seems like I’m quite the charmer then, is that what I did with you? ”

“Don’t be ridiculous, my bright Natural Satellite. Nope, you stole my heart right away and never gave it back, you little thief.”

“Well, lucky me, now I have the most precious treasure in the world in my hands, and I don’t really plan of giving it back”

At that he squeezed Sirius’ hand, looking at him and blushing, like the romantic sap he is. 

“Oh Moony, my Moony, all those books really taught how to enchant me with your words, did they?” 

Remus couldn’t answer, because he was swept in a kiss by Sirius, and well, let’s just say that when Sirius Black kisses and holds you like you’re the most important thing in the world, there is not much else that your brain can concentrate on, for Remus, it was just SirusSiriusSiriusSiriusSirius. 

But then Sirius suddenly broke the kiss, (quite rudely, if you ask Remus). 

“Oh, I almost forgot, I’m meant to give you something!”

And he started rustling in his bag, looking for said something 

“There!”

Sirius handed Remus a little pile of parchment, that was neatly stored in his bag

“What is this, love?”

And he started scanning them, ignoring the puddle that Sirius became hearing the pet name. 

“It’s just today’s note, I wouldn’t want my favourite swot to lose his precious class time”

And there, in Remus’ hand, neatly written with a perfect posh cursive, were the notes for the whole day, not only of the subjects that Sirius actually enjoyed, like Charms, but also of...

“You didn’t!!! You actually stayed awake during History of Magic to take notes for me???” 

The notes were neatly written, clearly taken with the only purpose to be gifted to Remus, seeing the amount of messages, hearts, “I love you”s, and doodles that Sirius left in the margins for him. 

Now, this might not seem like a big deal for many, but to Remus, the fact that Sirius not only stayed awake during a class that he hated, but actually put in the effort taking notes just to gift them to Remus, without even using them for himself, was the most heartwarming gift he could have gotten post moon. 

“Oh, you beautiful, beautiful man, how did I manage to deserve something so special like you?”

“It’s quite simple, my stunning Night Howler: you were trapped by my insanely good looks, my charm, my flashing grin, my amazing personality,  my ass…” 

“Sirius”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and kiss me”

And kiss him he did. 

[raysrays]

Fatal Attraction Chapter Six (NSFW)

18+ MDNI‼️

CW for the entire story: Breeding, Size Difference, Size Kink, Jealousy, Scent Marking, Age Difference, Vaginal Sex, Possessive Behavior, Angst, Twisted, Creampie, Angry Sex, Anal sex, Vaginal Fingering, Hair-pulling, Biting, Master/Pet, Light Dom/sub, Violence, Knotting.

Content disclaimer: This story is inspired by the amazing artist @PammyJammy117 on Twitter/X/Bluesky. I in absolutely no way own or claim the idea of the "Cryptid Rengoku" character. Please give credit to the original artist who inspired the story.

*Please read authors note at the end! <3

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five.

Y/N Perspective.

It was finally the day, the day I’d leave with Tamayo and Yushiro to search for Giyu Tomioka. Kyojuro had sulked all morning, his mood dark despite granting me permission. Apparently, agreeing doesn’t mean acting mature about it.

I stopped by his den, knowing I wouldn’t see him for a while. Which… would be strange, considering I’ve gotten used to seeing him almost every day.

I ran my fingers through the thick fur between his ears, gently massaging. His tail coiled around my thigh, pulling me closer, as he leaned into my touch like a cat.

“I don’t want you to go,” his voice, low and resonant, echoed around us. “Stay here with me. Forget this nonsense of traveling. I’ll keep you warm, and fulfilled… you know I can.” His words dripped with persuasion.

I smiled softly, tracing the edges of his ears. “I’ll be back soon, you know that. Time will fly by, I promise,” I tried, my voice tender, though the reassurance felt weak.

His ears twitched, flattening with frustration. “My mate is leaving me… for who knows how long. I’ll miss you.”

My heart clenched, unfamiliar pain filling the space between us. I had never seen him like this, it’s more of a sad begging than an anger.

I continued to stroke the soft fur along his head and shoulders, pressing gentle kisses between his eyes and on his forehead. His purring and soft clicks were a small comfort, a sign that I was soothing him. When I pulled back to look at him, though, his expression still seemed sad. It was hard to believe that this was the same cryptid monster that scared half the world. Right now, he looked more like a big, heartbroken puppy.

“I have to go, Kyojuro… but I promise I’ll be back soon! And when I return, I’ll bring so many food offerings, you won’t know what to do with them all.” I smiled brightly, hoping to lift his mood.

It worked. His ears perked up, and that familiar sharp, toothy grin spread across his face.

“You… you really mean it?” His voice had a spark of excitement.

I laughed, unable to resist how cute he was in this moment. “Of course! I promise.”

Suddenly, his tail coiled around my waist, pulling me up to his height until we were eye-to-eye. He pressed his forehead against mine, the touch warm and intimate.

“You will come back to me,” he murmured, his tone soft but commanding. “I won’t let you stay away for long. You are mine… my mate. I don’t want anything else to try and take you away.”

His voice was gentle but firm, leaving no room for argument. Not that I wanted to. The truth was, I wasn’t planning to run.

I know now, I’m falling in love with this cryptid, I’m falling in love with kyojuro…

I felt his tail tighten around my waist, and his teeth grazed my skin in warning nips.

“Just hold still,” he growled low, the rumble vibrating against me.

Before I had time to process, a sharp, burning pain shot through me as his teeth sank into the flesh where my neck met my shoulder. I gasped, my fingers clutching the fur on his shoulders, holding on as the sting pulsed through me. After a moment, he withdrew, licking the blood from his lips.

“Forgive me, little human,” he murmured, his tone almost tender. “But I need my marks fresh before you go. My scent must linger.”

I nodded weakly. No matter how many times he did this, it never got easier. But if it meant he’d let me go, I wasn��t going to fight him. I’d just have to cover it up with my clothes and bandages later.

He leaned in, licking the blood from my neck and shoulder, his touch both cleaning and claiming.

“Go now,” he commanded softly, his voice lingering in my ear. “But don’t take too long. Tomioka may not be the most vicious monster… but he’s not one to underestimate.”

“I understand,” I replied, managing a small smile. “I’ll keep my guard up.”

His gaze lingered on me for a long moment before his grip loosened, and he set me gently back down.

“Farewell, my mate. Be careful,” he said, his voice softened now, almost vulnerable.

I gave him one last reassuring smile before turning to leave the den, the weight of his gaze still on me as I walked away. As I made my way back to the safe house, the tension in my chest slowly eased.

When I arrived, Tamayo and Yushiro were busy preparing medical supplies.

Yushiro glanced up as I emerged from the woods, his expression a mix of confusion and irritation.

“What the hell were you doing out there? You should be helping us pack,” he snapped, his voice laced with annoyance.

“Sorry… just doing some last-minute searching,” I said, chuckling awkwardly.

That was such a terrible excuse…

“Searching? For what, exactly?” he scoffed, clearly unconvinced.

“It doesn’t matter,” Tamayo cut in, her tone gentle but firm. “Y/N, go finish gathering the rest of the supplies.”

I silently thanked her for the save and hurried inside to help with the packing, the dull ache in my shoulder still nagging at me.

————————

Once everything was loaded up, we set out on the road. Climbing uphill, lugging bags full of supplies. This was definitely the last thing I wanted to be doing.

The air grew colder as we traveled further north, though it wasn’t unbearable yet. Still, it made me miss Kyojuro’s warmth, the way he’d wrap himself around me, engulfing me in his heat, making even the coldest nights bearable.

But for now, I pressed on. I made small talk with Tamayo and Yushiro, though the conversation mostly revolved around Giyu Tomioka and what we might face if we encountered him.

If I’m being honest, the thought made me nervous. As Kyojuro’s mate, Tomioka would undoubtedly pick up on his scent, a fellow Hashira’s scent. What concerned me was how he’d react. Would he respect it… or take it as a challenge?

The journey to our destination took about three days. We had to camp out multiple times and take frequent breaks because of the brutal weather. The northern shore was nestled in one of the most inconvenient, hard to reach places.

And this “beach” was anything but inviting. Jagged rocks in place of sand, a gloomy atmosphere hanging over us, and a biting chill in the air. It was a stark contrast to Kyojuro’s warm, vibrant territory.

But then I reminded myself: Giyu Tomioka is known as “The Kraken Hybrid.” A place like this, dark and cold, made far more sense for him than any forest ever would.

“We’re at the heart of it now,” Tamayo announced, her voice cutting through the wind. “We’ll set up camp and the research stations here.”

Yushiro and I exchanged a glance and got to work, picking a spot close enough to keep an eye on the waters but far enough from the high tides that we wouldn’t be caught off guard.

Our setup was decent, but Tamayo hadn’t mentioned how long she planned to stay here. Given the conditions, I hoped it wouldn’t be long.

I was debating whether to head out on my own to try and find Tomioka. With Kyojuro’s scent still on me, he’d be more likely to approach if I was alone. I didn’t want a repeat of what happened in Shinazugawa’s territory, these monsters are cautious around groups. It’s the same with Kyojuro. There’s no way he wasn’t aware of Tamayo’s safe house at the edge of his forest. He had to have known.

Tamayo’s spent her life researching and hunting these creatures, yet none of them have ever come near her. I don’t understand it. Still, I’m determined to bring her something, proof that her years of hard work weren’t all based on conspiracies and old folklore.

I’m hopeful. If we just keep looking, we’ll find something.

It took the rest of the evening to set everything up, and by the time we finished, we were all exhausted. Tamayo eventually sent Yushiro and me to fish by the shoreline. As usual, the silence between us was heavy, almost awkward. I never understood why she was so insistent on pairing us together for tasks like this.

When we got back with our catch, we started a small fire and cooked the fish. Surprisingly, it tasted pretty good, though I couldn’t help but think how much better it would’ve been with the right herbs and spices.

“We’ll rest tonight and begin our search tomorrow,” Tamayo said as we ate. “I want to stay for at least four days, long enough to find something of value.”

Yushiro glanced up from his food. “None of us are familiar with this territory. Where exactly do we start?”

Tamayo paused, considering his question for a moment before responding. “We’ll split up. Y/N, you’ll take one side of the shore, and Yushiro will take the other. Go as far as you can. I’ll cover the beach and the cliffs.”

I looked at her, concern creeping in. “Are you sure that’s safe? That’s a lot of ground to cover on your own.”

She smiled softly, her eyes calm but resolute. “I’ll be fine. You two focus on the shoreline. Pay attention to the water, if there’s any sign of activity, report it. We’ll meet back here before sunset.”

“Understood.” I nodded, but as I stared down at my lap, a dull sting pulsed in my shoulder. Kyojuro’s mark was deeper this time, more intense than usual. Even now, I could still feel the lingering burn of his claim.

I did my best to ignore the ache of the cold as we settled in for the night. The chill seemed to cut deeper out here; Kyojuro’s warm den had really spoiled me.

The ocean’s steady rhythm was soothing, the waves crashing, the wind sweeping through. If only it weren’t so cold, I could almost imagine this place as paradise.

By morning, the sun barely touched the sky. This place seemed locked in a gloomy haze, with a heavy, off-putting atmosphere hanging over everything.

Yushiro and I followed Tamayo’s plan, starting from the center of the shoreline and walking in opposite directions. It was growing frustrating. No matter how far I walked or how long I looked, there was nothing. no sign, no trace, nothing to even hint that something might be lurking here. I found myself scanning the waves for anything, but the ocean remained silent.

This went on for two days. Each morning, we repeated the same routine, and each evening we returned to camp empty-handed. Yushiro’s patience was thinning with each frigid, uneventful day. He’d begun pestering Tamayo to abandon the search early and return home.

But I was convinced we would find something. We had to. I knew these creatures were real. And Giyu Tomioka was out there somewhere.

As the day slipped into night quickly. I sat by the fire, restless and frustrated as Tamayo and Yushiro slept. Was the Kraken Hybrid really this elusive?

Unable to shake the feeling, I rose from my sleeping bag and wandered down to the shoreline, watching the stars scatter across the sky. For all the cloudiness in the mornings, the night sky was surprisingly clear, blanketed in starlight.

I paced along the familiar stretch of beach I’d walked each morning, trying to clear my mind. Of course, Tomioka wasn’t going to just reveal himself to a group of human hunters. He wasn’t foolish, but his ability to stay hidden was annoying.

I walked until the glow of our campfire faded into the distance. Just as I decided to turn back, a splash broke the quiet of the ocean. I whipped my head toward the sound, my heart leaping as I watched ripples spreading across the water. That was no wave… what was it?

Before I could react, something slick and cold wrapped around my ankle. I looked down, my stomach twisting as I saw what looked like a tentacle coiling tightly around me. Then, with a sudden, forceful pull, I was yanked off my feet, hitting the gravelly shore before plunging into the freezing water.

Panic seized me. Saltwater stung my eyes, blurring my vision, but I forced them open. A pair of deep blue eyes stared back at me, unblinking, intense, a stoic gaze that sent a shiver through me despite the water’s chill.

My lungs burned, my heart racing as I tried to pull myself together. I needed air. Desperately, I struggled, kicking hard and paddling toward the surface.

Finally, I broke free, gasping and coughing, my throat raw from the saltwater. My nose ran, my eyes were bloodshot, and my limbs ached from the struggle. But as I gulped down fresh air, I realized something with a strange, thrilling certainty.

I had just encountered Giyu Tomioka.

Shit.

I struggled to paddle toward the shore, my lungs heaving as I gulped for air. The shock of the icy water set my body trembling.

I barely had a moment before another slick tentacle wound around my wrist, followed by another around my ankle, pulling me back. I turned, eyes widening as a dark figure began to emerge from the depths, moving closer to the shore, water cascading down its form.

As my vision cleared, I took him in. Long hair, dark as midnight, framed a face with eyes as deep and cold as the ocean itself. His upper body was muscular, almost human, though gills lined his abdomen. But his lower half tentacles, thick and sinuous, replaced what should have been legs. Despite his stoic expression, he was… beautiful, in a chilling, otherworldly way.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his voice low, resonant.

I hesitated, my mind scrambling for the right words. “My name is Y/N L/N. I’m… a researcher.” That sounded better than ‘hunter.’ “I’m here with—”

His gaze swept over me, his tentacles tightening around my limbs, pinning me effortlessly.

“No… that’s not who you are,” he murmured, his eyes narrowing as he focused on my neck, where Kyojuro’s mark lay hidden beneath my shirt.

“You’re Rengoku’s mate,” he said flatly, a hint of distaste in his tone. “I can smell him all over you. So, tell me, what business does his mate have this far from his territory? You’re miles beyond his borders.” His voice took on a harder edge, and a flicker of irritation crossed his face.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. He knows who I am, and he definitely doesn’t look thrilled about it.

“Yes, I know I’m far from where I’m supposed to be. But I wasn’t lying, I really am a researcher. And as you’ve probably already guessed, I’m not alone here. To keep it brief, I’m here with my team to prove your existence.”

He blinked, expression blank, then raised a brow. “And you expect me to just expose myself to humans? To become some exhibit in the name of ‘research?’” His voice sharpened, irritation clear.

Damn it. Why was I phrasing this so badly?

“N-no, that’s not what I mean!” I stammered. “We’re only looking for proof that monsters once existed… without disturbing any of you.” I tried to explain, but my words still sounded flimsy.

He tilted his head slightly, watching me intently.

“We’re searching for evidence, anything to show that the guardians of this world weren’t just myths,” I added, my voice betraying my nerves.

“So, you trekked all the way here just to prove I exist?” he asked, his tone skeptical.

I nodded. “Yes. I mean, I know about the Hashira… obviously, since I’m Kyojuro’s mate. But—”

“But you couldn’t sell him out,” he interrupted, his gaze piercing. “Not even for the sake of ‘research,’ could you?”

I let out a sigh, feeling both frustrated and exposed. Was I really that easy to read?

He studied me with an unsettling intensity, his deep blue eyes flickering with something unreadable. His grip didn’t loosen, the tentacles wrapped around my wrist and ankle holding firm.

"How foolish," he finally said, voice low and cold. “Humans always believe they can wade into waters they don’t belong in and remain unscathed. Do you even truly understand what you're meddling with?"

"I… I think I do," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though my pulse was pounding in my ears. "We don’t want to interfere; we’re just searching for traces, something to prove that monsters, your kind… existed. It’s about respecting history, preserving the truth.”

He gave a quiet scoff, his grip tightening, almost like he was testing my strength. "History. Truth. Words humans cling to when they’re desperate for answers. But do you really want to know the truth?" He leaned closer, his breath brushing my skin like a cold breeze. “What will you do when you find it, human? What will you do when it terrifies you? It appears Rengoku has not told you enough. That alone is concerning.”

What, What does that mean?

My mouth went dry, but I held his gaze. "I’ll face it. Because… some of us still believe in what you once were. Guardians. Protectors."

He stilled, his expression hard to read, but something softened in his eyes, a flicker of surprise.

“You think we still carry that purpose? That we owe humans anything?” His voice was a mix of bitterness and curiosity, a quiet challenge in his tone.

I swallowed, choosing my words carefully. “I think… your existence isn’t owed to anyone. But maybe there’s a reason you’re still here, and maybe we’re meant to remember that reason.”

He looked at me for a long moment, his face unreadable, then released a deep sigh, as though weary.

“Fine. Out of peace and my small remaining of respect for Rengoku. You and your group can stay… for now,” he said at last, his voice almost a reluctant murmur. “But you’ll find nothing else. That will have to make do for you.” His tentacles released me, revealing the suction marks on my arm and leg.

I nodded, a small flicker of relief sparking in my chest, even as my heart still raced.

“Don’t return here with such a foolish reason. Rengoku and I have a truce but it would be irresponsible to abuse it,” he warned, his grip easing as he let me go, leaving my skin cold without his touch. “I’ll be watching. And if I sense even a hint of disrespect, I will not be so forgiving. You and your people will leave soon. I don’t wish to see you return any time soon.” He spoke coldly.

“Yes… I understand.” I finally manage to choke out.

His blue eyes glowed in the night.

"Y/N L/N," he murmured, his voice cold and unyielding, "you’d be wise to tread carefully. There are other Hashira who would not be as… forgiving, so long as you bear that mark. If Rengoku has led you to believe he has no enemies, then he’s as much of a liar as I remember."

With that, he slipped back into the waves, the dark water swallowing him until there was nothing left but silence.

I stood there, reeling. His words echoed in my mind, unsettling and sharp.

A liar? Kyojuro? No… that can’t be right. Kyojuro may be fierce, even terrifying to some, but he’s also warm, compassionate, and always so… open. Sure, he has his intense side, his possessive moments, but a liar? He’s never seemed anything but honest, at least with me. Or so I’d thought.

I glanced down at my wrist, the fresh marks from his tentacles still vivid. I had to play this off right, I was soaked, freezing, and shaken after encountering Tomioka, so it wouldn’t be hard to look convincing. I hurried back to camp.

“Tamayo! Yushiro!” I called out, rushing toward the fire where they were sleeping.

Yushiro grumbled, half-asleep, while Tamayo sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. "What’s going on, Y/N?" she asked, her voice still groggy.

I knelt down in front of her, catching my breath, and held up my wrist. Tamayo’s eyes widened as she took in the marks, my drenched clothes, and my shivering frame. She reached for my hand, her smile growing with every detail.

Yushiro finally woke up, blinking in surprise as he noticed the marks on my wrist. Shock and disbelief crossed his face.

Tamayo quickly ushered me into the tent. “Come now, let’s get you warmed up and take a closer look at these!”

Inside, she helped me out of my soaked clothes and handed me a dry blanket. She lit a lantern, inspecting the marks on my wrist and leg while scribbling excitedly in her notebook.

“Did he speak to you? Why did he grab you? Was he angry?” she asked, her questions coming rapid-fire.

I explained that I’d gone for a walk because I couldn’t sleep and had wandered too close to the sea. “I think… he may have thought I was prey or something,” I added, as casually as I could manage.

Tamayo nodded, jotting down every word with satisfaction, pausing only for a few follow up questions. Seeing her so pleased was a relief. After all the times I’d come back empty handed, I’d finally managed to make her happy. That, at least, felt like a victory.

——————-

The hike back felt just as awful and exhausting as the one coming in. Our journey home took nearly as long as our initial trek, with the weight of the distance settling heavily on my shoulders. Tamayo was eager to return and report her findings, while I couldn’t shake the anticipation of finally seeing Kyojuro. I missed him, more than I cared to admit, but there were now new questions I needed answered.

When we finally reached the cabin, we were greeted by a few of the other hunters. I helped Tamayo and Yushiro unload, my mind already drifting to the promise I made to Kyojuro. Food offerings. I couldn’t come back empty handed. he’d make such a fuss if I did. And the last thing I needed was for him to get all upset and pouty.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I finished helping and excused myself to the kitchen. I carefully prepared the offerings, making sure to include all his favorites. My heart raced a little as I arranged them, the thought of him looming over every movement.

Surely he would be pleased with these. I was gone what? Around a week two weeks total? That’s quite a while, but I got his permission, so he can’t be too angry with me.

As I slipped quietly back into the woods, I glanced down at my wrist. The marks from Tomioka's tentacles had faded, but they were still visible, a subtle reminder of what had passed. Of course, Kyojuro would notice them. He had a knack for being... dramatic when it came to anything remotely concerning me. I could trip and scrape my knee, and he’d insist on us cuddling for what felt like hours, as if that alone would make everything better.

Am I complaining? Maybe a little. But, deep down, I know I shouldn’t. After all, at least he wasn’t a heartless monster.

The forest path seemed to stretch on forever as I made my way back to the den. But the moment I stepped inside, the familiar clicking began. Slowly, Kyojuro emerged from the shadows, his crimson eyes glowing in the dark, a sharp, predatory smile spreading across his face. I set down the food I was holding, and smile at him happily.

"My little human, my mate! You’ve returned!" His voice rumbled with delight, and before I could react, his tail wrapped tightly around my waist, pulling me in close.

He sniffed eagerly, his nose brushing against my chest before he nuzzled into me, demanding affection. And, of course, I gave in, my fingers running through his fur as he purred loudly, tail tightening possessively around me.

"You smell like the ocean," he growled lowly, his voice thick with something primal. The intensity of his gaze never wavered as he held me in his embrace.

I could feel the warmth of his body radiating through the layers of my clothing, the undeniable presence of him filling the space around us. His scent, a mixture of fire and earth, was comforting in its own way, grounding me after the long journey. But the ocean, he couldn’t stand the trace of salt and waves that clung to me after my time with Giyu.

"You know," I murmured, my fingers still tracing the curve of his tail, "it’s not like I went swimming in the ocean. Just a little... coastal air."

His growl deepened, almost playful now, as if he didn’t quite believe me. "Coastal air, hm?" His eyes gleamed in the dim light, as though he could smell the exact essence of what had happened, and every part of him was keenly aware of it. His grip on me tightened, but not in anger, more like a quiet claim, a silent assertion that I was his, no matter where I’d been.

Kyojuro pulled back slightly, his gaze still locked on me as he gave a slow, exaggerated sniff of the air. “I can still smell him.” His voice was steady, but the tension in his tone was unmistakable.

I sighed inwardly, but I didn’t try to pull away. “Kyojuro... it’s not like that. Tomioka just—”

“Tomioka,” he interrupted, his voice turning sharper, though his hands were gentle as he cupped my face. “I see he hasn’t the common decency to not touch what not his.” His gaze shifts down to my wrist, though there was a flicker of possessiveness beneath the surface. “But you’re mine. Always.”

There it was again, that crazy intensity. That overwhelming, fierce loyalty that I both feared and craved. The way he could consume every thought, every moment, with just a glance. I tried to breathe past the lump in my throat, but the reality of his words settled over me, heavy and consuming.

“I’m yours,” I whispered, not even needing to say it to reassure him, but more to remind myself.

His sharp smile returned, his tail loosening its grip just enough to allow me to breathe fully again. “Good,” he purred, the possessiveness in his voice morphing into something deeper, more intimate. “Because I don’t share.”

Oh fuck…how did that sentence send shivers down my spine?

He leaned in, his face so close to mine, and I couldn’t help it, my hands slid over the fur on his shoulders, drawing him closer. His growl deepened as his tongue flicked over my bottom lip, his teeth grazing over the skin, sending sparks through me. And when he finally sealed our lips together, I melted into the kiss. It was fierce, possessive, overwhelming... all the things he was and more.

I had missed this, these moments of pure abandon. He knew exactly what to do to make me moan, what to make me lose myself in the moment. And by the time we broke apart, I was breathless and trembling, my core aching with need.

"Did you miss me?" he asked, the low echo in his voice was smooth and low, his tone already turning dark and filthy. "Is my mate craving something?" His voice rumbled through the air.

And fuck, I couldn't lie, i didn’t want to just give in so quickly, I wanted to pretend that I hadn't missed him this much, that I didn't want him. But I did, oh God how I did.

“Yes,” I admitted, barely above a whisper. “I want you, Kyojuro.”

He let out a low growl, a purr rumbling through his chest. “Good human,” he murmured against my neck now, his claws already moving to my pants. “You know how I feel about these obnoxious clothes you wear…. Take them off.” He didn’t wait for my answer, his mouth trailing down my neck, nipping and biting at my skin, making my heart beat fast.

"Take off your clothes now," he demanded again, his sharp claws pulled at my pants as I fumbled to untie them. "And let me see you." The command in his voice sent shivers down my body.

I did as he asked, shedding the rest of my clothes until I was completely naked in front of him. He stepped back and let out a sharp growl of approval before his clawed fingers ran up my thighs, my ass. And he finally wrapped his whole hand around my waist.

His touch burned over my skin, searing in its intensity. My breath caught as he firmly held me, pulling me closer until the heat of his cock pressed against me. The softness of his fur rubbed against me, making my skin tingle. I shivered in his arms, my pulse racing as his hands and tail explored my body. But he was too skilled, too attuned to my needs. It didn’t take long for me to find myself writhing in his grasp, aching for him.

"Please," I whispered. "Kyojuro, please—"

He stilled, and for a moment, I thought he’d just keep teasing me. Then he leaned in, nipping at my ear with a low growl.

“Look at that,” he breathed, his voice rough and thick with need. “My little human, desperate for my cock.” His tail wrapped around my thigh, lifting me up and positioning me just where he wanted. “Don’t worry, my mate, I’ll make it feel so good. I'll fill you with my seed until you're full of my scent. No more salt and ocean. Just me.” And with that, he thrust his thick cock into me roughly, making me cry out in surprise.

His girth stretched me so wide it hurt. He was merciless, holding me up and pounding me hard, my body struggling to accommodate him due to our time apart. My breasts bounced with each thrust, and the sound of my wetness echoed around the den, it was both humiliating and arousing.

"You’re so wet," he rumbled, his breath hot against my ear. "You love this, don’t you? My little human missed me." He nipped at my ear, his tongue running over the lobe. "Taking my cock. Being mine. You’ll never be full of any other’s scent. Not when you’re my mate.” His hands tightened, gripping me so hard, there would no doubt be bruises later.

He didn’t let me reply, his lips claiming mine as he fucked me. My mind blurred, my body consumed by the pleasure. He wasn’t gentle, not this time, and I loved him for it. He fucked me hard and rough, using my body for his pleasure. But he also knew every spot to hit, every spot that would send me over the edge.

“I wanted to be gentle with you,” he growled between thrusts. “But after not seeing you for so long, I just can’t hold back.”

The click of his voice vibrated against my skin.

And the orgasm, oh God, it built quick. There was no slowing it down, no stopping it, as it crested and crashed through me, leaving me screaming into the darkness. He didn’t stop fucking me though, not until I'd come multiple times on his cock.

Finally, when I couldn’t take it anymore and my body trembled from exhaustion, he pulled out. His tail released its hold on me, letting me slide down to my knees, where I fell onto the soft ground, my legs weak.

He stood over me, panting softly, his cock still hard. His eyes gleamed as they roved over my body before he leaned over me and gripped my hips, forcing me onto my fours.

“I know you are tired beautiful human… but I’m afraid I’m not satisfied.” His tail wrapped around my ankle and pulled my legs apart.

I could hear his low chuckle as I tried to catch my breath. “This hole has never been used before…” I felt his tongue lick up my ass. My eyes widen and my body shivered. No way… he was not about to— “It looks so good all pink and wet.” I moaned as he lapped at my rim. “You want me here?” he asked with a chuckle.

"Kyojuro," I gasped, my breath coming short. "No...please, you can’t."

His laughter only deepened, his large hands spreading my cheeks roughly apart. “It’s not for my own pleasure. My mate needs to be fully claimed by me. You smell like ocean, so it must be done,” he said as he pressed his tongue against my rim, teasing it in a way that made me cry out and writhe in his hold.

He kept up that torture for what felt like an age. Licking my ass, his tongue sliding through my cum as he used it to lubricate my rim, sliding it in and out slowly. I squirmed and whimpered, overwhelmed, and his low growls only grew more pleased.

Then, once my rim was nice and stretched out, he finally stood over me again, his cock hovering over my ass. He pushed the tip inside of me, and I cried out, my body trying to clench down.

"It’s okay, my mate," he murmured softly, his voice gentler now. “It’ll sting a bit at first but I’ll take care of you.” His hands stroked my back gently and he slowly pushed his cock deeper inside of me.

I clenched down, trying to stop the pain, but he kept pushing. He stretched my ass out wide with his thickness, filling me so completely I felt I might burst. My whimpers and cries filled the air as I struggled to bare the sensation, even as it was edged with pleasure.

But when he was finally seated fully in my ass, my body gave into the sensation and I moaned, my muscles relaxing.

He let out a deep growl and wrapped his tail around my body, pulling me back against him as he started to move. "This feels amazing," he rasped, he purred, clicking loudly in pleasure.

I felt full and tight, every thrust making me writhe and clench down on his cock, the pleasure mingling with the pain in a way that was maddening. But I didn’t have the ability to think, not while his tail wrapped around my body, holding me in place as he fucked my ass.

He began to move faster, my moans and his growls echoing through the den now. His tail tightened around my waist and his teeth sunk into my neck. I felt him grow thicker inside of me and then I felt him fill my ass with his seed.

"Fuck! It’s so warm and wet..." he growled, his moans growing more desperate as he kept emptying his cum inside of me. The sound of it dripping out of my ass filled the den. I felt his knot expand keeping what could be contained inside of me. I tried to clench down but he held my body still as he continued to come. I moaned and wiggled in his grasp.

"You’re mine," he growled deeply. "I can’t share you with anyone."

And with that, he held me there, his cock still buried deep in my ass, until his knot finally released and he collapsed next to me on the ground. I was exhausted from his fucking, and my body ached in the most delicious way.

He pulled out of my ass, making me gasp as his cum only spilled out of me more. He wrapped me in his tail and nuzzled his face in my neck.

"Sleep little human," he growled softly. "I’ll take good care of you, always."

I felt him pick me up, carrying me to our nest. He laid me down and wrapped around me, holding me securely. This was the warmth I had missed. Despite my body being so sore and exhausted, I was completely blissed out.

I fell into a deep sleep knowing I was safe, knowing I was loved, and knowing he’d always protect me. And the ocean would no longer be a problem. Not after Kyojuro had me all to himself. I smiled, snuggling in his arms.

————————

When I finally awoke, it was to him licking my neck. "Good morning, my little human," he purred. His claws slid through my hair.

I rub my eyes opening them slightly to adjust to the light. The sun had risen, and its warmth filtered through the trees.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble.

"Yeah," I answered, still groggy. "How long have you been awake?"

"A while," he chuckled. "I wanted to make sure you got enough rest." I sighed, feeling relaxed and content. But as I shifted, a dull ache throbbed through me.

"Your body will be sore for a few days," he said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "You took me so well. It makes me proud to have such a good mate."

"Thanks," I mumbled. "I guess."

"Are you hungry?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, a little," I said, stretching.

Kyojuro’s eyes gleamed, his tail curling around my leg possessively as he shifted to sit up, still keeping me close. “Good. I’ll catch us something fresh,” he said, the hint of a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “But don’t you move a muscle. Rest those sore limbs. I’ll be back in no time.”

I watched him rise, his form lit by the morning sun as he stretched, flexing his muscles with a lazy confidence. “What about the offerings I made you, we could just eat those.” I suggest.

He chuckled lowly and shook his head. “As much as I love you my mate. You made those offerings for me. And if there’s one thing I won’t share with you… it’s the gifts you bring me.” He smiled playfully his tail wagging almost like a dog.

He gave me one last intense look, as if memorizing every detail before he turned, disappearing into the woods.

Left alone, I sank back into our nest, feeling the lingering warmth he’d left behind. My body was sore, as he’d warned, but there was something comforting about the ache, a reminder of just how much we’d missed each other. The birds were chirping, and a soft breeze drifted through the trees, rustling the leaves. I closed my eyes, letting myself be lulled by the forest’s quiet rhythm, still wrapped in the warmth of last night’s memory.

Before long, the sound of Kyojuro’s footsteps drew closer. I opened my eyes as he emerged from the shadows, carrying fresh game in one hand, his eyes bright and eager. He set it down, then moved over to sit beside me again, his tail flicking with satisfaction. “Told you I’d be quick,” he said, as he leaned in to brush a stray strand of hair from my face.

“Impressive,” I murmured, smiling up at him.

He tilted his head, amber eyes softening as he took me in. “Impressive is having you back in my arms,” he murmured, voice lowering. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you here.”

The intensity in his gaze sent a familiar flutter through me, that possessive spark still so alive and undeniable. And as I reached out to touch his hand, I knew the same warmth would pull me back, over and over again.

Kyojuro held both my hands in one of his as if they were the most fragile things ever, a completely contrast to the night before. He raised my hands to his face nuzzling against him, brushing a warm kiss across my knuckles. “I want you to feel safe, always,” he murmured, the conviction in his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

I squeezed his hand, taking in the steady heat of him, grounding me in the moment. “With you, I do,” I whispered. “It’s like… nothing could ever hurt me here.”

He smiled, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. “That’s how it should be.” Then, with a playful tilt of his head, he added, “But I might need to remind you every now and then, just to be sure.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “Always so protective.”

“Of course,” he replied, a low rumble in his chest. “I’d fight the every monster in the world if they tried to take you from me.” He leaned in closer, his gaze unyielding. “You’re mine.”

The intensity in his voice stirred something deep inside me, a thrill mixed with reassurance. “And you’re mine,” I replied, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw, feeling the strength in his muscles as he leaned into my touch. “No one else, nothing else matters.”

His eyes softened, the fire in them shifting to something warm and tender. “Good,” he whispered, then bent down to press a lingering kiss against my forehead. “Now,” he said, his voice lighter, “how about some food? You’ll need your strength if we’re going to spend the day together.”

“Sounds perfect,” I replied, feeling a renewed warmth spreading through me.

I prepared the food over a small fire with practiced ease, never straying too far, as if I couldn’t bear to be away. And as we shared the meal, surrounded by the gentle sounds of the forest, I felt something settle within me—a deep, unshakeable peace, knowing I was exactly where I was meant to be.

The first few days back at Kyojuro’s den going back and forth like I usually did. The days were a whirlwind of passion and comfort. We spent hours exploring each other’s bodies, the weeks of separation making every touch feel new and electric. His fur was just as soft as I remembered, his eyes just as intense. And the way he’d hold me at night, his tail coiled around me, made me feel like I was home.

I knew I had to talk to him about Tomioka. I wanted to know the history between them. Tomioka said kyojuro had enemies, that he was a liar. And that part genuinely unsettled me. No matter how hard I tried to push it down.

The thought gnawed at me, even in moments of warmth and ease, like a shadow lurking just beyond the firelight. I had questions, and I needed answers.

One evening, as we lay entwined in our nest, his breathing slow and steady beside me, I finally gathered the courage. I shifted slightly, just enough for him to sense I was awake. He glanced down, eyes gleaming with that familiar, protective warmth, his arms wrapping tighter around me.

“Kyojuro,” I began, voice barely above a whisper. “Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he murmured, his expression softening. “Anything, my mate.”

I hesitated, searching his gaze, feeling the weight of the words I was about to say. “When I was with Tomioka… he mentioned things. He spoke of enemies you might have. That there were… conflicts, even lies.” My voice faltered as his eyes grew darker, the warmth in them receding.

He held my gaze for a long, tense moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed, a sound filled with something I couldn’t quite name, was it regret? Resignation? “Giyu…” He spoke his name like a wound he was trying to close. “He’s not wrong, not entirely. There are… old tensions among us, unspoken alliances and rivalries. The Hashira, we each walk our own path. Sometimes, those paths cross in ways that are less than ideal.”

I felt a chill, like a draft sneaking into the den. “And what about the lies?” I asked, unable to mask the tremor in my voice.

He closed his eyes briefly, his clawed thumb brushing my cheek in slow, soothing strokes. “There are things I’ve kept from you, yes, but not out of deception. I wanted you to feel safe here with me, untouched by the struggles I face.”

“But I need to know, Kyojuro,” I pressed, the urgency rising in my voice. “If there are things out there that could put us in danger, if there are people who’d come after you, don’t I deserve to know?”

A spark of pain flickered in his eyes, and he nodded, a reluctant acceptance settling over him. “Yes. You deserve to know everything.” He paused, his voice taking on a new gravity. “There are other Hashira who don’t agree with my… my methods, or the way I’ve have chosen to live my life. They see it as a corrupt, and wrong. Giyu is cautious, wary. He wanted to warn you, perhaps hoping you’d run away.”

The words struck me harder than I’d expected, and I found myself reaching for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m not running away. No matter what.”

He smiled, the slightest edge of vulnerability showing in his fierce gaze. “I know you wouldn’t.” His clawed fingers traced my palm, lingering there, as if trying to reassure himself of my presence. “But if Giyu or anyone else threatens what we have… I won’t hesitate to protect you. Even if it means facing my past and the ones I once called allies.”

We fell silent, the weight of his confession settling between us, mingling with the night air. It was a silence heavy with truth, with the understanding that we were bound by forces beyond ourselves.

As he pulled me close, nuzzling against the top of my head, I felt the strength of his vow in every touch, every breath. And while uncertainty lingered, so too did an unbreakable trust, a quiet promise that, no matter the challenges, we would face them together.

The night deepened, a stillness settling over us that carried both comfort and an edge of unease. Kyojuro’s warmth enveloped me, his breath steady against my skin, and for a while, we lay in silence, just listening to each other’s heartbeats. I wanted to let go of my worries, to lose myself in the safety of his embrace, but Tomioka’s words still echoed in my mind, a reminder that nothing was as simple as I’d once thought.

As if sensing my thoughts, Kyojuro tightened his hold, his hand holding my back. “There’s more to it than even Giyu understands,” he murmured, breaking the silence. “I’ve had to make choices that others wouldn’t, things the other Hashira see as betrayals.”

“Betrayals?” I whispered, unsure if I wanted to know more, yet unable to stop myself from asking.

He nodded, a somber look in his eyes. “Not everyone agrees with the way I protect or take what’s mine. To them, I’m reckless. They don’t understand… that love isn’t a weakness. That it gives me strength.” His eyes softened, that fierce possessiveness tempered by a tenderness that left me breathless. “And that strength is why I’ll always protect you, even if it costs me.”

I reached up, my hand finding his cheek, and he leaned into my touch, his eyes slipping closed. “I don’t want you to give up everything just for me,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want you to be alone in this.”

“You’re here,” he replied, his voice a low rumble, the barest hint of a smile curving his lips. “That’s all I need.”

For a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered, that the forest around us, the Hashira, the threats they posed, all of it faded in the face of what we shared. But even as I held him close, I knew there were things left unsaid, truths lurking beneath the surface.

We spent the next few days in a fragile peace, an unspoken understanding passing between us. Kyojuro was attentive, almost more than usual, as if determined to make up for the tension between us. He brought me fresh food every morning, wrapped me in his warmth each night, and filled the hours between with quiet affection. His hands were always on me, grounding, reassuring, and in those moments, I almost forgot the dark clouds that loomed over us.

But the shadow of Tomioka’s warning still hung in the background, a persistent reminder that there were others out there who didn’t share Kyojuro’s loyalty. And one evening, as I watched him prowl the edge of the den, his gaze sharp and alert, I felt a pang of worry I couldn’t ignore.

“Kyojuro,” I called softly, breaking him from his vigil. He looked over, his eyes immediately softening as they met mine.

“Yes, my mate?” he asked, crossing the distance to sit beside me. His tail curled around me instinctively, pulling me close.

“Do you think… they’ll ever try to hurt us?” I asked, forcing the words out even though my heart clenched at the thought.

His jaw tightened, a shadow flickering across his expression. “I’d be lying if I said some of them wouldn’t try,” he admitted. “But they’d be fools to underestimate what I’d do to keep you safe.” His voice was low, deadly, a reminder of the strength that lay just beneath his warmth.

I nodded, finding comfort in his resolve, but a small part of me couldn’t shake the fear. “And if they come… will you tell me?” I asked, my gaze steady, my voice as firm as I could make it.

He hesitated, his fingers brushing over mine. “I’ll never leave you in the dark again,” he promised, his eyes searching mine with a sincerity that took my breath away. “We’ll face whatever comes together.”

As he pulled me into his arms, his words settled over me like a shield, a reminder that, no matter the dangers, we had each other. And though uncertainty lingered, for the first time, I felt a quiet sense of resolve, a strength that mirrored his, a fierce determination to stand by his side, no matter what.

In that moment, I knew that whatever lay ahead, I was ready.

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A/N: I want to say thank you everyone for being so patient with me for this chapter. I haven’t been able to go through all of my in box but the messages and DMs have been nothing but supportive. I’ve never been so grateful to be apart of such a kind and loving community, thank you all so much. Unfortunately life happens and it’s hard to bounce back and continue projects like these but it helps when everyone is so kind.

I also I want to make it clear this blog is a safe space and no hate or cruelty is tolerated, I love all of you. Stay safe and know you are loved and supported🫶🏻

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Tags: @im-0-addicted-0-to-0tea @emmenic726 @fandomenbylover @staygoldsquatchling02 @nicora04

[itwdoris]

dada ! choso.

author notes; dada is just a title and does NOT refer to the literal, all characters are adults.

tw; very quickly pussy inspection, medicine to heal headache, tongue sucking, kinda of n-verbal reader.

★

you sighed softly as you stirred in his arms, trying to watch a bit of tv as the rain kept falling outside. choso's room was now your second home, because the first was his living room, especially when you were both under the big blanket.

he looked at you with some concern and stopped stroking your hair for a few minutes, taking his hand out of it. you could pretend that nothing was happening and carry on like that, but you never had to hide anything, because kamo always knew when there was something there with his love.

you turned to him with your eyes almost closed in an almost pained face, pressing your lips together as you tried to climb into his lap to get some cuddles, a holy medicine. he grabbed you at the same moment, pulling you close to him, brushing the hair out of your face as he laid you on his shoulder and looked at you.

"tell dada." choso asked softly as he left a kiss on your forehead, one hand caressing your thighs and ass while the other pressed you against him. "hum?"

you touched your forehead lightly, watching him give it another kiss. it wasn't much, but you were getting a bit of a headache, in the morning it had disappeared, but now it was there again.

"then we have to get the medicine box." he said as he positioned you, putting your legs around his waist and holding on tighter as he got up from the sofa like it was nothing. the large blanket almost fell to the floor, but he threw it back before it did.

you snuggled into his body, feeling gentle pats on the butt as he walked to his room to get the box. listening to his footsteps as you clung to the big black blouse he was wearing, smelling him, you whimpering softly wanting him.

"dada's here... don't worry." opening his drawer, he took out a small box with a small red cross, and inside there was everything he could need to take care of you.

he took out a small packet of pills, showing it to you with a satisfied smile, choso sat you down on the dresser and continued between your legs, highlighting one of the small pills.

"need help?" he asked as he caressed your cheek, because if he needed to, he would put the pill in your mouth with a kiss.

and that's exactly what he did when he saw you nod. placing the small pill on the tip of his tongue as he approached you, holding your face lovingly while you opened your lips slightly, letting his tongue in.

then, after a bit of kissing you swallowed without much effort, still feeling him kiss you in the meantime, and when you came back you spent a long time just sucking his tongue because it was so good. feeling his hands pull you away slightly just to run his thumb over your lips, looking at your pretty face in his hands.

"what do you say we stay here in the bedroom?" he wrapped his arms around your hips, leaving a few kisses and realizing how needy you were getting, he needed to help. "dada will let you suck your paci, let's get under the covers together."

kamo left another kiss on your forehead, pulling you a little closer so that he could take you in his arms again.

"until the pain pass." he carried you out of the bedroom and into the living room again just to pick up the big blanket he had left there. also taking the opportunity to turn everything off.

when you returned to his room, simple and comfortable, he led you towards the bed occupied with a few plushies he had given you, sitting down with you still on his lap, he settled back until his back was against the pillow on the headboard.

you didn't have to ask because his hands soon reached inside the cloth of your shirt and pulled it up, used to doing this, he left it on the bedside table and turned his attention to you, to your pretty tits on display.

he ran his hands over it lightly, rubbing his thumb over your nipples as he leaned in to kiss you again, letting you take advantage of it to suck his tongue as much as you wanted, as he had said, staying in it for a while.

you whimpered softly and pulled away, still connected by a line of saliva that he made a point of pulling out, kissing you some more before pulling away again and looking at your needy face. "hum?"

leaning back and leaning on your hands, you pushed your hips up. it didn't take long for him to understand.

you wanted him to check you out, and so he did, pulling your panties aside and exposing your folds to him, using his fingers to pull your lips apart so he could see your pretty hole. choso looked and checked everything, even sticking his finger in your soft walls to make sure everything was right.

"nothing wrong, sweet." he replied, running his finger over your little clit just to confirm it. everything was perfectly fine, apart from the normal wetness you got while you were kissing. he took his fingers away and brought them to his mouth, wiping them quickly.

your head wasn't pounding so much anymore thanks to the medicine, but something in you needed him so badly, you couldn't help yourself, looking at him with your eyebrows curved and a slight pout on lips, feeling his hands holding your waist to support you as you approached again, falling against his chest.

"what?" choso grabbed your hip and pulled it back a little, a light rub enough to make you sigh against his skin, he brought his hands down to your ass, lowering them a little to caress your covered folds from behind. "need dada?"

you nodded almost immediately, grabbing his black blouse and pushing yourself a little against his fingers, not necessarily wanting something sexual, just wanting him, wishing he could get inside your skin and grab you, this way close enough.

kamo used his other arm to press you more against him, wrapped around you, burying his face in your neck to sniff you and leave a few stray kisses, mumbling some things that you didn't understand much because you were busy whimpering.

"my pup's needy? hum?" he pulled away a little just to get some air, admiring your pretty red face against his chest as he rubbed you "better?"

you stood up a little and nodded negatively as scratched your eye, running your hand over your face and feeling him pull you in to shower you with kisses because it was never enough. after, his hands came up to squeeze your boobs, caressing them.

"ah, then dada will have to help..." he left a kiss on your cheek and murmured against it as he made a path for your mouth, only keeping lips together until he pulled away again.

you leaned into his chest to kiss him on the lips, lightly until you went deeper, now burying your hands in his loose, messy brown hair. his hands left your tits quickly so that he could pull the big blanket next to you, involving you both with it.

hes a menace, i can't. my plans were just something soft, but ended up putting a inspection because i'm obsessed with it, still soft for me, anyway, hope you guys like it! <3

and there are dada!choso fans here, i'm so happy!!!