#i kept thinking ''surely its almost over?''

[sillyhanako]

୧﹒cw﹕kaiser x gn!reader, established relationship, reader knows kaiser before the neo egoist league

୧﹒wc﹕706

As the final whistle pierced the air, signaling the end of an intense battle, the players collapsed onto the ground, utterly spent yet undeniably satisfied. Their bodies ached, but their spirits soared, having pushed themselves to the brink in pursuit of victory. With weary smiles, they exchanged glances —an strengthened bond forged in the heat of competition and shared struggle.

but none of that mattered to you right now. you were beyond spent, you wished nothing but rest. Oh how your bed looks so charming right now... the match felt like a warzone with everyone fighting each other, regardless of whether they were allies or opponents. They were all driven by their egos, each trying to score a goal and be the center of attention.

Sure, you are one of those players, but we don't talk about that - The only goal on your mind was to muster up every last bit of your energy to make your way to your room, and the blue lock layout did not make it easier - seriously, at this point it should be called the Blue Maze! But alas, you managed to feel the welcoming embrace of your chamber once again. However, you must resist the temptation! You reek of sweat, and staying any second longer drenched like this will drive you mad. A shower could solve all of your problems.

Stepping under the hot water, a wave of warmth enveloped you, soothing your sore muscles and washing away the fatigue from the match. The steam curled around you, creating a soft veil that blurred the shower glass. Closing your eyes, you let the hot water cascade over your head, down your back, and pool around your feet. It felt like a much-needed reset, each droplet rinsing away the remnants of competition and reviving your spirit.

After ensuring that you only smelled your favorite scent, you put on a matching black robe that KAISER

had bought for the both of you. As you dried your hair, you scrolled through Instagram posts, casually liking your teammates close friends' only stories.

Finally resting on your bed was supposed to be a euphoric feeling, but you can't help but feel like something's missing, the bed feels way too empty for your liking. You gotta do something about this...

Knock. knock.

"Ness, i told you to leave me alo-"

"Open na noor."

you werent left standing as in mere seconds the door opened, he only knew one person who would knock at his door forty five minutes after the match ended, and it was you. It was opened with a kaiser that was smiling softly at you, a contrast to his previous sour demeanor.

"Ah [name]? What a pleasant suprise, but you usually text me before coming over, no?"

he opened the door wider and stepped aside for you to come in. The room smelled just like his signature fragrance, and they way its customized just screams him, he has his laptop open playing today's match, a casual routine for him to improve his performance.

You ploped down head first into the mattress with his scent filling up your wind pipes, his pillows were all too familiar. you finally knew what was the missing piece that kept you restless, him.

Its safe to say you both reached a point in your relationship were you couldnt sleep without eachother. " my phones almost out of charge, you dont mind right? " you looked up at his form who was going in a beeline towards you "what do you mean i dont mind? weve been together for 3 years im more than okay with your presence besides mine." He knew by your tone what you wanted at this moment.

so he got over his side of the bed (even though its technically his bed) and gently lifted the blanket over your legs and pulled it over the both of you. Its was usually you who spoons him, hugging him to your chest while you scratched his head but perhaps it was fine to swipe the roles from time to time, taking turns pampering the other person sounded nice. however right now youd like to preserve the thinking for an other time and instead enjoy nuzzling into your boyfriend's chest.

[vampiriito]

Summer was in shades of cool.. (JJ Maybank X shy! kook! reader) Chapter 5

A/n: Hey loves! fifth chapter, which somehow ended up also being angst! I'm so sad this story is almost coming to an end＞︿＜(that's if i don't decide to write more chapters.) But what i have rn, is roughly 3 chapters left. So yeah.. I'm working on a JJ x mermaid! reader, and the here comes the sun fic (part 2) though, you gotta check them out when i post them!

Summary: You know JJ isn't mean, he just likes to spend his time in shades of cool. You prove him wealth and a cushioned life doesn't necessarily mean happiness and that the two of you weren't as different as he thought.

For someone so shy and timid you sure were brave to skate around the town at night. It was your way of unwinding. You liked how free you felt, all alone with your earbuds in, and just skating around in endless circles. Especially when you didn't feel like dealing with your mother's nagging or your father's disappointed sighs and looks.

The cold night air bites at your cheeks as you glide over the smooth pavement, the soft hum of your skateboard the only sound in the quiet, sleeping town. Streetlights cast long shadows, their orange glow flickering softly as you pass beneath them. The streets are empty, save for the occasional parked car or the distant silhouette of a house with lights still on inside. You skate past closed storefronts, their dark windows reflecting the faint moonlight, and the faint clatter of your wheels echoes down the empty alleyways.

Everything feels still, as if the world is holding its breath, waiting. Your breath comes in clouds, visible in the chill of the night, and the cold wind sweeps through your hair as you push off harder, picking up speed. The town feels different at night—more yours, like a secret you’re keeping from everyone else. You weave through the streets, the familiar paths taking on a dreamlike quality in the quiet darkness, the only witness to your midnight ride.

As you round a corner, something makes you slow down—a figure, standing under one of the streetlights ahead. At first, you think it's just a shadow or a trick of the light, but then he shifts slightly, hands shoved into his pockets, and your heart skips.

It’s him. JJ. You haven't seen him for a few days, almost a week, since your last conversation when you gave him the picture of you, and you kept the one of him. He hasn’t noticed you yet now, lost in his own thoughts as he stands there, bathed in the soft glow of the lamplight. You feel your pulse quicken, the smooth rhythm of your skating disrupted as your thoughts scatter. For a moment, you consider turning around, slipping away before he sees you, but your legs don’t move. The street is so still, and it feels like the space between you has suddenly shrunk, the distance closing with each heartbeat. You skate closer, slower now, unsure of what to say—or if you should say anything at all.

JJ had been lost in thought, standing under the streetlight and staring absently at the ground in front of him. His mind was a mess, a tangled web of conflicting thoughts and feelings that he couldn't seem to untangle. He'd been avoiding you ever since you'd both given each other the pictures - that moment with you had felt so personal, so intimate, that he didn't know how to act around you now.

Not to mention the absolute shitshow of a night he managed to have.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when he heard the sound of wheels rolling over the pavement. He looked up, and his heart stopped as he saw you skating closer.

As you came close to him, you eased your skateboard to a gentle stop by pressing your foot against the pavement. The familiar hum of wheels on concrete faded into a hushed silence as your heart began to quicken, the twilight deepening around you both. In the dim light, his features had been nothing more than vague silhouettes, but now—standing side by side—each detail was painfully clear.

Before you could even manage a soft greeting, your eyes were drawn to the silent story etched across his face. There were bruises scattered like dark constellations on his skin, his lip was painfully split, and a swollen bruise cradled his eye in a halo of sorrow, a small trail of blood drying up just above his lip from his nose. In that moment, your heart clenched with a mix of shock and tender concern. The raw evidence of his pain stirred something deep within you—a profound empathy that made you wish you could reach out and soothe the silent anguish behind those eyes.

Time seemed to slow as you absorbed every detail, the cool night air mingling with the warmth of your worry. In his vulnerable state, you saw more than just physical marks; you saw the same little boy you remembered from 3rd grade staring back at you. And as the night pressed in around you, you felt an overwhelming urge to offer comfort, even as a subtle fear held you back—fear of drawing him further into a world of pain he might not want to share or revisit.

JJ felt your gaze on his face, taking in the bruises and cuts. He immediately looked away, hating the way you were probably looking at him. He felt exposed, like a raw nerve.

He tried to play it tough, forcing a casual tone. ''Don't look at me like that. It's nothing. Just a little scuffle, that's all."

Your brows furrowed into a small frown as you continued studying the injuries on his face. Each bruise and the split on his lip whispered stories of pain, stories you’d only heard in hushed conversations around town. You knew about his turbulent relationship with his dad, the kind of abuse that left scars both seen and unseen. Not from JJ directly, of course.

This wasn’t just the aftermath of a random scuffle. The marks on his face spoke of deliberate cruelty, as if someone had set out to hurt him, to silence his ability to fight back. The thought that he might have been too shocked or too restrained to defend himself filled you with a cold dread. It was as though each injury was a small echo of a larger, unspoken terror—a terror that clutched at your heart and made you fear for his well-being.

JJ noticed the way your frown only seemed to deepen the more you took in his injuries. He could see the concern in your eyes, and it both touched and frustrated him. Part of him appreciated that you seemed to care, but another part just wanted you to stop looking at him like he was some helpless victim. He shifted awkwardly, trying to find the words to downplay the situation.

"Seriously, it's nothing. My old man was just being his usual charming self, that's all."

Now your brows shot up in surprise. Not because you didn't know about his dad and his tendencies. But because he was telling you this so directly. So bluntly.

"This was your dad?" you asked quietly, stepping off the skateboard fully now.

JJ nodded reluctantly and reached up brush a finger over the dried up trail of blood trickled from his nose, his eyes darting away as if he could escape the truth by simply not meeting your gaze. He despised that he had let his guard down enough to admit that his dad was the one who had marred his face. "Yeah. My old man had a little too much to drink tonight. Things got outta hand. It happens," he said, his voice attempting a casual indifference that barely masked the underlying anguish.

He tried to make it sound like just another night in the Maybank household—a familiar script of abuse and neglect, spun so often that it almost felt routine. But behind his nonchalant tone lay a truth he couldn’t hide: each incident was a step deeper into a spiral of escalating abuse, unrelenting drinking, and seething anger. In that moment, every word he uttered carried the weight of a painful reality he wished he could forget, yet it clung to him like a shadow he couldn’t shake off.

"...Why are you on the street then?" you asked once again, although your voice was quiet, you weren't as flustered as you usually were when you spoke to JJ.

JJ finally looked at you, surprised by the directness of your question. He wasn't used to anyone asking him such things so bluntly.

"What do you mean, 'why am I on the street'? Where else am I supposed to be?" He tried to sound casual, but there was a hint of defensiveness in his voice. He wasn't used to revealing so much about himself like this, especially to a kook.

You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. You didn't realize how weird the question sounded. You should've just asked him if he had anywhere to sleep. But the words died in your throat. "No i mean.. I'm sorry.. i mean why aren't you at your friends' house..? Why are you out here?"

JJ huffed again, still feeling on edge. He couldn't tell you the real reason why he wasn't at one of his friend's houses right now - he didn't want to burden anyone else with his personal problems. So he just lied, keeping his voice casual and indifferent.

"I don't know, I just didn't feel like crashing at anyone's place, alright? I like being alone. I get more freedom when I'm sleeping on the street than if I were at someone's house."

"You're gonna freeze. Plus, sleeping on a bench really sucks," you stated simply, your tone laced with a soft, almost tender exasperation. Your expression soured in a way that was both peculiar and genuine, hinting at the concern beneath the blunt words.

JJ felt a pang of irritation at your statement. Yeah, he knew that sleeping on a bench sucked, trust him, he was well aware of it. But he didn't need you reminding him of that.

"Yeah, well, what choice do I have, genius? I can't exactly afford a hotel room. Not all of us are rich kooks, you know."

"…I was gonna say you can crash at mine—you don't have to sleep out here," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The words slipped out after a few long moments of silence, following his sharp snap at you. There was a tender vulnerability in your tone, as if each syllable was a small promise of safety amid the chaos. You hoped that by offering your place, you could shield him, even just a little, from the cold and harshness of the night.

JJ's jaw dropped at your unexpected offer, his irritation immediately forgotten. He looked at you, eyes wide, trying to tell if you were being serious. The idea of crashing at your place seemed too good to be true. No way you actually wanted him to stay over at your house. "Wait, you're joking, right? You want me to...stay at your place?"

"Yeah... i mean i don't mind. If it's not weird for you of course... given you barely know me." you mumbled awkwardly, scrathing the back of your neck.

The idea of staying at your house was definitely weird for JJ. It would be his first time ever stepping foot inside a kook's home, for one. But more than anything, it was the thought of being in a private space with you that made him feel anxious and excited at the same time. He took a moment to collect himself before responding.

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose or anything..."

You bit your lip, torn between respecting his pride and prejudice that you knew he had towards kooks, and wanting to help him. "No... I uh... I have my own room. It's not gonna be a problem. You can eat and take a bath if you want and I can help you with your uh... bruises."

You tried to force a smile, bending down to grab your skateboard and holding it under your armpit. The tension hung in the air, thick and unspoken.

JJ's chest tightened at your offer to help take care of his injuries. No one had ever really cared about him in that way before, and the thought of you treating his wounds made his heart thump against his ribcage. He tried to keep his voice casual and nonchalant, but he couldn't hide the hint of vulnerability in his tone. "Yeah? You're gonna play nurse for me?"

You wouldn't forgive yourself if you would've just skated away back home alone. You cared for JJ, more than you would admit to anyone. 8 years of being in love with him secretly would do that to you.

You nodded, your smile turning genuine and sheepish, your free hand reaching up to adjust your glasses.

JJ felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of your genuine smile, his throat constricting at the thought that he was the cause of it. He took a small step closer to you, feeling the tension building between you both.

"Well, I ain't gonna turn down an offer like that." He gave you a small, crooked smile in return, the first genuine smile he'd given since you spotted him under the street light.

The two of you began walking, your skateboard still tucked under your arm. JJ kept sneaking glances at you, still trying to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be staying the night at your house. It was a strange and unexpected turn of events, one that he had never thought possible just a few days ago.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, JJ spoke up, his tone curious and a little playful. "So, is it just you at your place? Or do you have, like, parents and siblings and stuff?"

"Yes... I have a sister and, uh... well, parents." you said, furrowing your brows slightly but smiling as you walked down the street. The evening air was cool and refreshing, a welcome contrast to the heat of the day. The streetlights cast a warm, golden glow over the pavement, and the sound of distant laughter and music from nearby homes added a comforting backdrop to your walk.

The journey to your place wasn't long, just about 15 minutes at most, giving you both enough time to enjoy the quiet company and the gentle rhythm of your steps. As you walked, you couldn't help but glance over at JJ, hoping the darkness concealed the concern in your eyes.

JJ nodded, not really surprised that you had a normal and functional family. He had always suspected it, even before you gave him the picture of you. There was something about you that screamed 'normal suburban girl', probably the fact that you were a kook after all.

As you walked, JJ studied the neighborhood surroundings, taking in the big, fancy houses that littered the street. It was a stark contrast to his own home and his neighborhood, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and bitterness. The tall imposing windows, the perfectly manicured lawns and massive pools with houses perfectly painted, all of them were the complete opposite to the trailer park scenery he had the ill-fated chance of waking up to.

"Must be nice, having functional parents and a nice house."

He tried to make his voice nonchalant and joking, but he couldn't quite hide the hint of bitterness in his tone. He knew it wasn't right to take his own issues out on you, especially since you had been nothing but kind to him so far. But old patterns were hard to break.

"The nice house is... good, although it doesn’t make up for the angry man living in it. All i wanna say is that i know how weird dads can get." you looked down, your voice shy and hesitant.

JJ's heart twinged in pain at the mention of angry dads. He could relate to that all too well. He'd lived with an angry dad for as long as he can remember, and the memories were not pleasant.

He was surprised that you would admit something like that to him. He'd always figured you were some rich girl who had everything handed to her on a silver platter. But clearly, there was more to you than he thought.

He glanced over at you, studying your face as you continued walking. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch you, to comfort and reassure you in some way - as if he didn't have a busted lip and bruised face of his own. Instead, he just cleared his throat and spoke as casually and jokingly as he could. "Yeah, angry dicks seem to be pretty universal, huh?"

"Yeah... I don't want my kids to have an angry father," you chuckled dryly, the laugh more a reflex than genuine amusement. The situation wasn't funny at all, but the awkwardness bubbled up in your chest, spilling out in the form of an uncomfortable giggle.

JJ's heart skipped another beat at your unexpected mention of kids. The thought of you having a family of your own - a future husband and children - made him feel more bothered than he cared to admit. He tried to ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest and responded in his typical sarcastic tone. "Oh, so you already got some future hubby picked out?"

"No. I don't even speak to guys... you know how shy and timid i get..." you frowned with a smile on your face, shaking your head.

JJ couldn't help but chuckle softly at your response. He knew all too well about your shyness and how you seemed to freeze up around people, especially guys. It was just one of the many quirks about you that he had picked up on over the years, despite never actually talking to you. "Yeah, I've noticed. You get all tongue-tied and red in the face. It's kind of cute, actually."

The second he said it, JJ mentally cursed himself. He had meant it as a lighthearted tease, but the word 'cute' had just slipped out before he could stop it. He quickly tried to cover up his blunder with a nonchalant, sarcastic tone.

"I mean, in a dorky kind of way obviously."

You let out a huff of laughter, turning your head to look forward as you walked, nearing your house. You felt yourself blush at his words, despite the fact that he covered them up with a teasing comment.

JJ watched as your face turned a light pink, the rosy color spreading across your cheeks. He felt a weird sense of satisfaction at the realization that he had caused that reaction in you. But he quickly pushed that thought aside, reminding himself that he was just here for a place to crash, nothing more.

As you continued walking, JJ glanced around the posh, quiet neighborhood.

"You know, you live in a pretty fancy area. I feel like I'm in some snobby billionaire's vacation home or something."

"All of these people living here are assholes." you stated bluntly, glancing around too.

JJ couldn't help but bark out a surprised laugh at your unexpected bluntness. He had never expected such language to come out of your mouth. "Ouch. Don't hold back, tell us how you really feel."

He smirked, still chuckling as he glanced around at the immaculate, expensive-looking homes surrounding them.

As you neared your house, JJ couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. He tried to play it cool, but he couldn't ignore the thrill of the idea that he was about to step inside a kook's home for the first time in his life, aside from the house parties.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to appear nonchalant as he spoke. "This your place, huh?"

"Mhm.." you nodded, humming as you approached the big gates of your house. You walked towards the security booth, asking the man inside to let you in, explaining to him that JJ was your friend and that your parents should just not hear about this, not wanting to have the talk with you mom yet.

JJ followed you silently, trying to appear unfazed and nonchalant. But deep down, he was still feeling a little awkward and uncomfortable being in this wealthy neighborhood.

He watched as you spoke to the man in the booth, explaining that he was your friend and that your parents shouldn't know about his presence. JJ could only grimace at the thought of your parents finding out that you were bringing a Pogue - and a bruised and beaten up one at that - into their pristine kook house.

As the gates clicked open and you both walked through the opening, JJ glanced around the expansive grounds of your property. It was a far cry from the small, run-down house and yard he lived in. This place looked more like a luxurious resort than a home.

He let out a low whistle of appreciation, looking at you with a mix of awe and envy. "Damn. You really weren't kidding about your place being fancy."

You gave a small, shy smile, feeling a bit self-conscious as you led him up the stone path. The meticulously manicured lawn stretched out on either side, dotted with vibrant flowerbeds and neatly trimmed hedges. The soft glow of landscape lighting illuminated the walkway, adding an air of sophistication to the already impressive scene.

"Yeah, it's... something," you said, your voice hesitant. "But like I said earlier, a nice house doesn't make up for everything."

JJ nodded, his gaze sweeping over the expansive grounds before settling back on you. "I get that," he replied, his tone sincere. "Still, it's pretty amazing. I've never seen anything like this up close."

"It's just a house.." you laughed awkwardly. You neared your big front doors, digging through the pocket of your jeans to retrieve your keys.

JJ rolled his eyes at your nonchalant response. "Yeah, right. A house that looks like it could fit my entire house inside of it."

He watched as you took out your keys, realizing with a pang of panic that he was about to enter your house. He quickly pushed down the feeling of nervousness building in his chest and tried to make a joke instead. "You sure your parents aren't gonna see me and freak out?"

"I don't even think they're home.. and if they are, they're asleep already." you stated after unlocking your front door, grabbing your board and stepping inside. Opening the door, you ushered him inside, the warmth of the house enveloping you both. The foyer was elegantly decorated, with a grand staircase leading up to the second floor and tasteful artwork adorning the walls. JJ looked around, taking in the high ceilings and polished wood floors.

JJ followed you inside, his combat boots squeaking uncomfortably against the smooth, hardwood floors. The inside of your house looked just as impressive as the outside, with elegant furniture and expensive-looking decorations that could probably serve as a down-payment for his shitty house. JJ couldn't help but feel a little out of place, like a stray among the perfect, polished furniture.

He tried to act casual, but he couldn't help but glance around nervously, waiting for your parents to appear and throw him out on his ass.

JJ was surprised by the fact that your house was completely silent and dark, as if nobody was in. He had been half-expecting a posh version of his own home with angry, yelling adults and slamming doors. "Your parents are seriously asleep already? Don't they care that you're out this late?"

You shook your head. Your parents really didn't care that much. You had learned to take care of yourself when they weren't home. Which was usually all the time. Instant meals and take out became your best friend once you passed the age of 14. It was like you parents just- assumed you'll hold your own. And you did. Mostly thanks to Maisy. You urged him towards the stairs walking up the steps quietly.

JJ followed you up the stairs, still feeling out of place and on edge in the immaculate surroundings. He knew he was probably going to look like a total mess once he saw himself in the mirror, but he didn't dare ask to take a shower yet.

He glanced around as he walked, trying to mentally note the layout of your house in case he ever needed to escape quickly.

As you reached the top of the stairs, JJ looked around, expecting to see more of the posh and flawless décor. But to his surprise, the hallway upstairs was dimly lit and all the doors had been closed.

He followed you down the hallway towards your room, feeling a mix of curiosity and trepidation. He had never been in a kook girl's room before, and he couldn't help but wonder what yours would look like.

As you both finally reach your door you can't help but feel a bit nervous knowing your room was the only one in this house which was this messy. Once you stepped inside a warm, golden glow wraps around you, coming from the fairy lights strung across the walls like constellations. The soft light bounced off the pale pink walls, casting delicate shadows on the worn wood floors.

Photographs covered nearly every surface—polaroids tacked to the walls along with various movie and bad posters, black-and-white prints clipped to twine that stretches above your bed like a gallery of memories. Each picture seemed to hold a story: some of you skating down streets at sunset, others of eerie, abandoned places that seem pulled from a horror film, their dark windows and empty halls almost breathing, Maisy appearing in some of your shots.

The bed is a mess of mismatched blankets and soft pillows, inviting in a way that feels casual and lived-in, like you'd spent countless late nights curled up there, editing photos or watching horror movies that make the shadows in the room seem to move. On the floor, there’s a skateboard deck leaning against a stack of books, some dog-eared horror novels with spines cracked from use. The air smells faintly of vanilla and something else, maybe the remnants of a candle long burned out to mask the cigarette smell lingering.

JJ was stunned into silence as he stepped into your room, taking in the warm, golden glow of the fairy lights and the photos that covered every surface, the posters scattered over the light pink walls. He was surprised to have seen some of the movies himself, most of them horror flicks. It was unlike anything he had seen before - a stark contrast to his own bare, messy room with its old, fading wallpaper and worn flooring.

He looked at the mess of blankets, pillows and plushies on your bed, feeling a sudden urge to flop down on them, as if they would somehow soothe the tension in his chest. But he knew better than to do that, so he just stood there awkwardly, taking in his new surroundings.

"I'm sorry for the mess.. I'm usually a clean person... for 1 week after i clean. And then it goes back to this.." you mumbled awkwardly, dropping your board on the floor next to your door.

JJ chuckled softly, his usual smirk tugging at his lips as he glanced at the pile of clothes and books piled up in one corner of the room. "Nah don't worry about it, it's not that bad. Definitely cleaner than my room at least."

He gestured towards the mess. He didn't say it, but he actually found your room endearing. It reminded him of himself. He leaned up against the wall by your door, trying to appear casual and nonchalant as his eyes roamed over the photos on your wall. He recognized a few of the places you had captured on camera – old, abandoned barns and forgotten warehouses that he had explored with John B and Pope before.

"You like taking pictures, huh?" he asked, his voice a little gentler than usual.

"Wasn't that obvious already?" You asked gently a soft chuckle following your question, watching him closely as he studied your room. You felt a bit anxious and nervous given the state your room was in at the moment. And maybe the fact that the boy you were in love with since you were nine was currently in it. It felt almost unreal. He looked more beautiful under the soft glow of your fairy lights, his eyes sparkling like a little kid's despite the injuries scattered across his pretty face. That reminded you, you were gonna help him out with them.

JJ chuckled softly as your response, his gaze lingering on the photos on the wall for a moment before switching back to you. He couldn't help but notice the way you were watching him, with a hint of nervousness and anxiety.

He tried to act nonchalant, as if he didn't care that he was standing in the middle of a kook girl's room, surrounded by evidence of how little the two of you had in common. "Yeah, I guess it was pretty obvious, huh?

He felt a strange fluttering in his chest as your eyes met, the soft glow of the fairy lights making your face look almost angelic. His gaze lingered on your face for a moment before dropping to the ground, trying to push down the feeling of butterflies in his stomach.

Trying to distract himself, he spoke up again.

"So you like horror movies, huh? Explains why you're not scared of me even when I'm beat up like this."

"You don't look scary..." you spoke softly, shifting on your feet nervously your gaze also dropping to the ground nervously.

JJ chuckled dryly, running a hand through his messy hair. He was well aware of how he must look like right now, a mess of injuries and bruises, his face battered and swollen. Yet you still seemed unfazed by his appearance, your words completely honest and sincere.

He found himself unable to meet your gaze, feeling another flutter in his chest at your unexpected softness. He cleared his throat awkwardly, not used to being spoken to so kindly.

"Yeah, well I can assure you most people find me pretty scary."

"It's okay.." you reassured him, although you didn't know what for. He seemed tense, but you would be too if your father would treat you like that. And then you would have to wander the streets alone all beat up.

JJ felt a pang of something in his chest at your words. He wasn't used to being reassured like this, especially not by someone like you. Most people either avoided him or thought he was some kind of criminal.

He tried to force a smirk, but it came out weak and unconvincing. He felt a strange sense of vulnerability, standing in your cozy, feminine room while he was covered in bruises. He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to sit down, to rest for once.

JJ glanced around the room, wondering if it would be rude to just sit down on your bed. Finally, he gave in to the urge, his legs aching and tired from everything that had happened. He gingerly lowered himself down onto your bed, wincing slightly as he felt the soft mattress sink beneath his weight.

You stepped forward nervously, as if you were in his room and not the other the way around, stopping in front of him. You studied his injuries, trying to gauge the severity of them and to know what to do to treat them. You wanted to give him a hug before that, he looked like he needed it, but you weren't sure if he would be okay with that.

You had always wondered what it would be like to hug JJ. He was tall, taller than you, and well... very fit for a 17 year old. You imagined he'd give good hugs if given the chance. But he didn't seem like the guy who would just hug someone, or like physical touch like that. Especially in the state he was in at the moment.

JJ felt your gaze on him as he sat on the edge of your bed, his muscles tensing up involuntarily. He tried to act relaxed, but he couldn't help the feeling of being scrutinized, your eyes roaming over his body and taking in his injuries. He had to fight the urge to snap at you, to tell you that he was fine and didn't need your help.

But there was something in your eyes that made him hold his tongue. It was a look of concern, almost affection, and he wasn't used to seeing it from anyone, especially not a kook.

He shifted awkwardly as you stood in front of him, feeling a flutter in his chest as you looked at him with such concern in your eyes. He could see the wheels turning in your head, trying to figure out how to help him.

"I didn't come here for a pity party, you know." he muttered, trying to maintain his usual tough persona, but his voice sounded almost vulnerable in the soft glow of the room.

Your brows shot up in embarrassment and awkwardness, you didn't want him to think you were pitying him. Just merely concerned from a place of love. But he didn't know that of course. "I'm sorry... I'm just..- worried. I never had to treat injuries this bad."

JJ felt a pang of guilt as he saw the look on your face, realizing that he had sounded harsh and defensive. He gritted his teeth, feeling a strange mixture of vulnerability and frustration. He was used to hiding his pain and brushing off his injuries as if they were nothing. It made him feel weak and vulnerable to admit that he needed help. Like admitting that would make whatever he was going through more real. Reason why he didn't like to burden his best friends with it too much.

He let out a slow breath, trying to soften his tone.

"It's not like it's the first time I got beat up. I can handle it."

"Were you seriously just gonna wonder around until the morning..?" you asked in an almost sad and concerned tone, still standing in front of him awkwardly, your fingers reaching up to adjust your glasses.

JJ glanced up at you, taking in your sad and concerned expression. He had been planning on just wandering around, or crashing on the beach until morning. But in the moment, he couldn't bring himself to admit that. He shifted on the bed, wincing slightly as he accidentally jostled one of his bruised ribs. He avoided your gaze, feeling a pang of guilt. "I don't really have anywhere else to go, do I?"

He tried to sound nonchalant and tough, as usual, but there was a hint of vulnerability in his voice. He was used to spending nights alone on the beach, but the thought of spending another night out there, battered and bruised, suddenly felt very cold and lonely.

"That's gotta feel lonely at some point." you stated simply as if reading his thoughts, stepping a little closer shyly, still studying his face intently.

JJ tensed up as you stepped closer, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. He wasn't used to people being this close to him, especially not in such a vulnerable state. But there was something about the genuine concern on your face that made him feel a strange mixture of comfort and frustration.

He tried to brush off your words, as usual. "I'm used to being alone. I don't need anyone's help, especially not a kooks."

"Why is it always about kooks and pogues?" you asked, your brows furrowing in curiosity and something like a hesitant irritation.

JJ couldn't help but roll his eyes at your question.

"Oh come on, don't act like you don't know. It's always been that way. Kooks think they're better than pogues, looking down on us like we're nothing. We're two completely different worlds."

"I never looked down on anyone. If anything it had always been the other way around." you spoke softly, your expression going back to its normalcy, the concern still etched between your features gently.

JJ was taken aback by your words, his tough facade faltering for a moment as he heard the genuine hurt in your voice.

He wasn't used to people speaking to him like this, like they actually cared.

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, his usual confidence wavering slightly. "Maybe not you, but most kooks are the same. They think they're better than us, just because they have money and power."

"Yeah well... you're in my room. Not someone else's. " you mumbled, shifting on your feet awkwardly.

JJ looked up at you, his eyes roaming over your face, taking in your expression. There was no trace of judgement or anything like that, only genuine concern and a hint of something else that he couldn't quite identify.

He suddenly realized how close you were standing to him, so close that he could see the way your eyelashes curved downwards as you looked at him. He suddenly felt a flutter in his chest, an unfamiliar sensation that he tried to ignore.

He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he spoke.

"Yeah, well, this doesn't change anything. You're still a kook."

His voice came out harsher than he intended, a defensive response to the strange feeling he was experiencing.

Your brows scrunched up almost imperceptibly at his harsh tone, a pang of sadness shooting through you. Your eyes darted across his face nervously, regretting the decision to bring him here, given he seemed to think you pitied him and just wanted to flaunt your rich and snobbish life style. You suddenly felt frozen and like you made things awkward, for no apparent reason, going silent.

JJ watched as your expression changed, and he realized he had messed up. He hadn't meant to hurt your feelings, but his defensive instincts had taken over. He didn't understand why it bothered him so much. You were a kook and he was a pogue. That was just the way things were. There was no room for feelings or anything like that.

But there was something about the way you looked at him that made him feel guilty for being so rude. He tried to backtrack.

"Look... I didn't mean it like that. It's just-"

He cut himself off, realizing that he had no idea what to say. He wasn't used to dealing with his feelings, especially not when it came to a kook girl with the softest eyes he'd ever seen.

He shifted on the bed, feeling more vulnerable and uncomfortable than ever, his bruised ribs protesting at the movement.

You took a small step back, thinking it would be better at the moment. You didn't want to cross any boundaries or make him more hostile than he already was. You were supposed to help him out, not make things worse for him. But somehow now it felt weird, tense. You didn't wan that.

You expression stayed the same, but you tried to push down the feeling of sadness and awkwardness in your stomach, fidgeting with the strings of your hoodie nervously as you tried to mutter a word or something, but the words were stuck in your throat.

JJ noticed your step back, feeling a pang of something in his chest at the distance between you two. He didn't like it, for some reason. He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to pull you closer, to close the gap between you. He watched as you fidgeted with your hoodie strings, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He could tell that he had hurt your feelings, and it made him feel like a jerk.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the strange, unfamiliar emotions swirling inside him. He rubbed a hand over his face, wincing as it brushed against a particularly painful bruise. "Look, I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just not used to people being so..."

He trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. He wasn't used to people being so... what? Caring? Nice? Kind?

He looked up at you, his gaze locking onto yours for a moment before he quickly looked away, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable.

You wanted to step close again, reach in your nightstand drawer and help him with his injuries but you were frozen for some reason. You didn't know what to do, your eyes meeting for a moment, before you both looked away, an awkward and gnawing feeling settling in your chest.

JJ shifted on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position that didn't hurt. Every inch of his body seemed to ache, and his head was spinning from exhaustion. He looked up at you, still standing awkwardly a few steps away from him. He could tell that you wanted to do something, perhaps help him with his injuries, but you were holding back.

The urge to reach out and grab your hand, to pull you closer and make the aching in his chest go away, grew stronger by the second. He felt the silence in the room like a heavy weight, the only sound being his own pained breathing. He couldn't stand it any longer. He needed to break the tension, to ease the atmosphere.

His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as he spoke."Hey... come here."

You were surprised by his gentle tone, and the hint of vulnerability in his voice. It was strange, hearing JJ being so soft and... well, not tough for a change.

You hesitated for a moment, still feeling unsure and awkward from before. But then you heard the slight pleading in his voice, and any resistance you had crumbled like a house of cards. You slowly stepped closer, closer until you were standing right in front of him again.

JJ tilted his head back, looking up at you as you stood in front of him. He could feel the warmth radiating off your body, and a hint of your scent - strawberries and vanilla - filled his nostrils.

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but he couldn't quite hide the hint of vulnerability in his eyes. He felt strangely exposed and vulnerable, sitting on the edge of your bed while you stood right next to him, close enough that he could reach out and touch you if he wanted to. And he did, so badly.

He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to pull you into his lap, to bury his face in your neck and forget about everything else for a moment. But he held back, knowing that it would probably scare you away.

He cleared his throat, trying to control the strange, unfamiliar emotions surging through him.

"I... uhm... you were gonna help me with my injuries, weren't you?"

"Yes..." you muttered weakly, widening your eyes as you realized you were just standing there like a dumbass. You dropped to your knees to rummage through your bottom drawer, looking for your first aid kit and a bottle of painkillers, anxiously.

JJ watched as you knelt down in front of him, feeling yet another flutter in his chest. He wasn't used to people putting in so much effort to help him, especially not a kook.

He couldn't help but notice how pretty you looked on your knees, rummaging through the drawer, your brow furrowed in concentration.

He wanted to reach out and touch you, to run his fingers through your hair, to tilt your chin up and make you look at him. But he knew he shouldn't. He had already messed up enough.

He tried to distract himself from his thoughts by looking around your room, taking in the feminine decorations and makeup scattered on your vanity; your soft colored curtains.

He couldn't help but feel even more out of place, more like a dark spot in the middle of a pristine, beautiful room. He was dirty and battered, and you were soft and sweet, like a porcelain doll.

He suddenly realized how ridiculous it was, him sitting on the edge of your bed, beaten up and bruised, while you knelt on the ground, diligently searching for supplies to treat his injuries.

He felt a new surge of guilt wash over him. He shouldn't be here, in your personal space, in your room and on your bed. He should be out on the street, alone and miserable, like he always was.

He suddenly wanted to leave, to spare you the troubles of dealing with a pogue like him, but he couldn't move. The pain in his ribs and the exhaustion were keeping him there, stuck in this moment of unfamiliar vulnerability and softness.

You had finally found the goddamned aid kit, after looking for it anxiously, grabbing a half empty pain killer bottle that you used regularly and standing up and holding it awkwardly, "you think there's any internal injuries we should worry about?" you broke the silence softly, sitting down on your bed next to him, your brows furrowing as though you were trying to see through him for the injuries for yourself.

JJ tensed up briefly as you sat down next to him, the sudden proximity making his heart race. He tried to ignore the way he felt and focus on your question.

He gingerly prodded his ribs with his fingers, wincing a little as he touched a particularly tender spot. "I don't think so. Just a bunch of bruised ribs, nothing serious."

"Bruised ribs are still bad." you stated with a determined look on your face, "what about your chest? does it hurt?" you asked softly, looking up to meet his eyes.

JJ's heart skipped a beat as he met your gaze, the seriousness and concern in your eyes making his chest ache in a different way than before.

He swallowed, trying to calm his racing heart, and nodded slightly.

"A little. Mostly my ribs, though. It hurts to breathe and move."

Your brows scrunched up a bit in concern and panic at his words. For all you could know, his ribs could be cracked or even broken and he could be downplaying it, "oh my god.. they could be cracked you know? i dunno what to do about that..." you muttered the last part to yourself, your panic growing.

At the sound of your panic, JJ's tough demeanor slipped just a fraction. He could see the worry and concern etched in every line of your face, and strangely, it made his heart feel warm.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he said, his voice softer than usual. "It's not that bad. I've had worse. I'm tough, remember?" He forced a cocky smile, trying to reassure you, even though his ribs were protesting with every breath he took.

You shook your head in dismissal, pursing your lips together as your concern and panic started to grow. You were a 17 year old with no medical experience aside from treating a couple of injuries from skating. You didn't even know how to figure out if his ribs were fine and the thought scared you, "listen.. you need to press gently and see if you can feel anything weird aside from the pain.." you spoke, your brows furrowed as you tried to keep your voice steady, to conceal just how scared you were. Scaring him wasn't exactly the way to go about it. Nurses didn't do that. What the fuck were you saying? you were no nurse..

JJ's smile faded as he recognized the genuine worry in your eyes. He felt a pang of guilt for downplaying his injuries, knowing full well that it was making you even more anxious.

He sighed and nodded, lifting up his shirt to gently press his hands against his bruised ribs. He winced at the pain, his stomach muscles tensing up as he carefully felt around. "It hurts, but... I don't think anything's broken."

You grimace as his breathing hitched, your eyes studying the big bruise on his rib under his arm. It looked gnarly, truly like something done with malice, "are you sure? broken ribs can affect your lungs... you need to tell me if they're broken."

JJ let out a soft grunt as he prodded his bruised ribs. He could feel your eyes on him, studying the bruise with a mixture of concern and fascination.

He winced again as he applied slightly more pressure, feeling a sharp pain shooting through his chest. "I don't know... It hurts like hell, but I don't think it's broken. I've had broken ribs before, and it doesn't feel the same."

Your expression soured when he told you that he had broken ribs before. The thought saddened you, in a way you've never been before. Your eyes met, leaving the dark purple and blue ish bruise, a hint of the sadness and care seeping through, "..okay. I'll give you pain killers and you can take a warm shower after I'm done, okay?

JJ was taken aback by your sadness and concern. It was an emotion he wasn't used to seeing directed at him, especially from a kook. He tried to push down the unfamiliar feeling that welled up inside him, the feeling that he didn't want to see you sad.

He nodded slowly, still feeling vulnerable and exposed under your gaze. The thought of a warm shower sounded heavenly after the long, exhausting day he had just had. "Okay. That sounds good."

You fidgeted with the first aid kit contents, your fingers trembling slightly as you grabbed a clean cloth. You gently dabbed at the cut on JJ's cheek, your concentration evident in the furrow of your brows. As you applied the antiseptic, you winced in sympathy, knowing the sting it must be causing him. The look of discomfort on his face mirrored your own, and your concentrated expression melted into a grimace, as if you were the one in pain.

JJ couldn't help but watch you as you cleaned and treated his wounds. Your gentle touch and focused expression somehow made his heart skip a beat, even though he was in pain. He winced as the antiseptic stung his cuts, biting his lip to suppress a hiss of pain.

"Damn, that stings..." he muttered through clenched teeth.

You locked eyes, mumbling softly, "sorry.. i don't want the cuts to get infected.." you scooted a little closer to inspect the injuries more closely.

He had an even more gnarly bruise on his cheek bone than the one on his ribs if that was possible. It looked like he had been slapped pretty hard across the face, or punched with some sort of ring on the attacker's knuckle. The thought made your stomach churn, the cut on his lip was probably the force of the slap splitting the soft flesh of his lips.

JJ shifted slightly, feeling a little self-conscious under your scrutiny. He knew he was bruised and battered, and the way you were looking at him made him feel more exposed and vulnerable than he ever had before.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. But the memories of the fight, and the feeling of your soft, warm skin so close to his, were making it difficult to focus. He couldn't help but notice the concern etched on your face, the way your eyes darkened as you looked at his bruised cheek. He suddenly longed to reach out and take your hand, to pull you closer and feel the comfort of your touch.

But he didn't. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was invading your space, that he was bringing his pain and trouble into your perfect world. He didn't belong in your bright, beautiful room, with its soft colors and warm vibes. He was a dark stain, a reminder of the ugly world outside your door.

He tried to maintain his composure, to keep his voice steady as he spoke. "It looks worse than it feels."

"I doubt that." you responded simply, stashing the antiseptic and cloths back in the first aid kit, adjusting your glasses gently. You looked back at him your gaze softening as you grabbed a band-aid. You placed it carefully over the cut on his cheekbone, puling back slightly to inspect it. "you know, i didn't bring you here to try and shame you or anything... i genuinely wanted to help."

JJ felt a pang of something in his chest at your words and at the surprising softness which you used to place the band-aid over his cut, a soft flutter that he wasn't used to feeling. He tried to hide it with sarcasm, his usual shield against vulnerability.

"Oh really? I thought you just brought me here because you had some sort of kink for battered and bruised guys."

He instantly regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, realizing how crude and harsh they sounded. He was used to using humor and sarcasm as a defense mechanism, but somehow, with you, it didn't feel right.

He looked up at you, wincing internally as he waited for your reaction.

Your brows furrowed at his slightly sharp and crude words, pursing your lips together as you folded your hands in your lap, "you're funny... usually."

JJ mentally berated himself for his sarcastic comment. He hadn't meant to sound rude; it had just come out, a reflex born of years of hiding behind humor.

He saw the subtle frown on your face and felt a pang of guilt. He didn't want to upset you, especially not after you had been so kind and caring. He felt a strange urge to wipe that frown off your face and replace it with a smile. "I'm sorry. That was a poor attempt at humor. I didn't mean to be rude," he said, his voice softer and laced with a hint of genuine apology.

"It's okay." you mumbled, your expression softening. You knew how on edge he probably was, given the day he probably had. "It was kind of funny anyway.." you smiled slightly, letting out a huff of laughter.

JJ felt a small surge of relief at the sound of your laughter. It was a soft, gentle sound, like a ray of sunshine breaking through the dark clouds. He found himself yearning to hear it again, to make you laugh more often. As he found himself when talking to you. It was a reaction his brain had once he heard you laugh and saw the smile on your face.

He felt his heart flutter in his chest as he looked at you, his usual tough demeanor softened by the moment between you two.

He managed a small smile in return, his voice quieter than usual. "Thanks for laughing at my crappy jokes."

This would be the moment in movies where the girl would kiss or hug the boy and they would stare at each other with looks full of love. He was so beautiful, even battered and bruised, that he deserved the look anyway. You wondered internally how something so pretty and angelic got such a shitty deal in life. It was unfair. "well i love shitty humor." you mumbled gently, looking down and then back at him with a small amused smile.

JJ chuckled softly at your words, his heart thudding in his chest. He hadn't expected you to banter back, and he certainly hadn't expected you to say you love shitty humor. No one had ever said that to him before. He tried to tamp down the fluttering feeling in his stomach, the one that seemed to be getting stronger every time he looked at you.

"Guess I'm your guy then," he replied with a smirk, trying to keep it cool on the outside, while on the inside, he was anything but.

'You really are.' you chuckled internally, your expression softening even more as you let out another quiet laugh at his self deprecating comment.

JJ was mesmerized by the sound of your laughter. It was like a soothing balm for his battered soul. He could listen to it all day long. He couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction at the fact that he was the one making you laugh, that he was the one bringing a smile to your face.

He smiled at your soft expression, trying to ignore the way it made his heart flutter in his chest. He wanted to keep seeing that smile, to keep making you laugh, to keep spending time with you, in this small slice of heaven in your bedroom.

He shifted slightly on your bed, wincing as the movement caused his ribs to flare up in pain again. He tried to hide it, not wanting to show any more weakness in front of you.

He looked down at his battered, bruised hands, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him. He had caused you so much trouble already. He didn't deserve to be in your pristine room, on your soft bed, in your presence.

He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. "Thanks again, for... you know, taking care of me."

You looked down at his bruised knuckles and small cuts on his hands, your expression softening yet again, this time a little more sad. Before you could stop yourself, your finger reached up to trace the injuries gently, like you were giving him a palm reading, "you don't have to thank me."

JJ's breath hitched as your soft, delicate finger traced his bruised knuckles. He could feel a jolt of electricity with your touch, a strange sensation he had never experienced before. It was both painful and soothing at the same time.

He tried to control his heart, which was suddenly racing in his chest. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, focusing on the feeling of your gentle touch, the way your skin felt against his rough and battered knuckles.

He swallowed hard, then opened his eyes again, looking up at you. He wanted to say something witty or sarcastic, his usual defense mechanism, but he found that he couldn't speak. He could only look at you, his eyes locked with yours, his heart doing somersaults in his chest. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, the strange feeling in his stomach, the way your gentle touch was sending sparks through his entire body.

He tried to find his voice, managed to rasp out a quiet, "Why not?"

"You don't thank someone for giving you something you deserve, do you?" you asked with a small smile.

JJ blinked at your question, surprised by the simple yet profound logic. No one had ever spoken to him like this before, with such a gentle honesty and compassion.

He looked up at you, the harsh bravado and sarcasm nowhere in sight. He felt strangely vulnerable under your caring gaze, like you were seeing a side of him that he had never shown anyone before. He tried to reply, but found his words stuck in his throat. He simply shook his head in response, his heart fluttering again at the warmth in your eyes.

He looked down at his bruised hands, at your soft, gentle touch tracing over the injuries. He felt a wave of unfamiliar emotions wash over him, a mix of guilt, gratitude, vulnerability, and something else he couldn't quite name. Something he didn't dare to acknowledge, even with your picture sitting snugly in his old wallet everywhere he went.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He knew he should say something, but he didn't know how to express the strange mixture of feelings churning through him.

Finally, he managed to speak, his voice softer than usual. "I'm not sure what I deserve..."

His words broke your heart even more than it already was. JJ deserved the world and even more. He deserved to wake up in a nice bed and eat the pancakes you sometimes were too picky on eating every morning, or to walk around his own house without fearing the ghost roaming its halls. To not be afraid that he might get a glass or plate thrown at his head, with the intent to blind him or cut into his flesh maliciously. JJ Maybank deserved at least the small sliver of love your parents showed from time to time when they spoke to you. Scratch that, you both could probably do a better job at being each other's parents than the adults in your lives.

You opened your arms shyly, raising your brows in expectancy. The hug would probably be awkward given how you were standing next to each other but you knew he needed it. You knew the look very well.

JJ felt his chest clench at the sight of your open arms, his heart thudding in his chest. He had never been one to show weakness, but the sight of your gentle gesture made him feel strangely open and vulnerable.

He hesitated for a moment, his pride telling him to resist, to maintain his usual tough facade. But the urge to hold you, to feel the comfort of your embrace, was stronger than his pride. He let out a shaky breath, then leaned in, slowly folding himself into the awkward hug.

The moment his body touched yours, JJ felt a strange mixture of sensations. There was the sting of pain from his bruised ribs, the sharp twinge of the cuts on his cheek and lip, but there was also a soft, comforting warmth that spread through his chest, a soothing balm for his weary heart.

He found himself leaning into the embrace, his head tucking naturally into the crook of your neck. His arms circled around your waist, pulling you closer, as if he needed your touch to hold himself together.

You could tell you were in fact right, from the way he hugged you. Like he had been waiting for you to hug him. Your arms wrapped around his neck gingerly, careful not to hurt him. It was the first time you probably initiated a hug, you were always one to shy away from gestures like these but this was JJ, your JJ. You could not, not give him the hug. Not with the way he looked or spoke, like he was 2 seconds away from breaking down.

JJ closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he held you closer, his arms tightening around your waist. The feeling of your arms around his neck, the gentleness and care in your embrace, was making his heart race, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering furiously.

He felt a strange sensation in his chest, a strange wave of emotions he couldn't quite identify. It was a mix of something new, something fragile and beautiful.

He found himself burying his face into your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

He was overwhelmed by the mix of sensations coursing through him. He was used to feeling strong, independent, in control. But here he was, in your soft embrace, feeling vulnerable and fragile, his defences crumbling down with every breath he took of your scent, every gentle touch of your hands on his back, every beat of your heart against his chest.

He knew he should pull away, but he found himself holding onto you even tighter, his body molded against yours, as if he couldn't get close enough,as if he needed your touch to breathe.

You rested your chin on top of his head, letting him pull away when he wanted to. You didn't wanna pull away anyway. It was nice, actually enjoying a hug and not having to worry if it was awkward or if you were too tense or weird. The hug just was.

JJ's breath hitched at the way you rested your chin on his head, his eyes closed as he tried to process the strange feelings swirling through him. He never thought a hug could feel so intimate, so vulnerable, and so... right.

He could feel the steady rhythm of your breathing, the softness of your skin against his cheek, the way your body melded against his. It was a strange, yet soothing sensation, and he found himself not wanting to let go, as if he was afraid to lose this feeling.

He shifted slightly, pulling you even closer, his arms wrapping around you so tightly it was almost as if he was trying to merge into you, to become one with you.

He knew he was probably being too clingy, too needy, but he couldn't help it. The feeling of your body against his, the comfort and safety of your embrace, was like a drug he couldn't get enough of. He inhaled deeply, letting your scent fill his senses, his heart thudding in his chest.

He found himself mumbling something against your neck, the words coming out as a soft, almost slurred whisper. "Don't let go... please don't let go..."

He knew he probably sounded pathetic, like a wounded puppy seeking comfort from its master. But he couldn't help the desperate plea that escaped his lips. He needed your touch, your warmth, like a drowning man needing air to breathe.

You swallowed a lump that formed in your throat at his words, pulling him a little closer, shifting on the bed gently to move closer, still kneeling next to him on your bed. The thought of JJ sleeping on the beach all lonely and cold could have easily brought you to tears. If you weren't focused on the way he was holding you. A small part of your brain was still struggling to grasp that he was here, in your room, willingly hugging you. You wished he'd sleep at your place often. You could definitely use the company in this scary, imposing house.

JJ could feel the shift in your position on the bed, and it felt strangely intimate to have you so close to him, your body pressed against his. He knew he was probably crossing a boundary, being too needy and vulnerable, but the feeling of your warmth and comfort was too strong to resist.

He breathed in your scent again, his heart rate picking up as the distance between you shrank. His grip on you tightened, his hands gripping your waist as if he was afraid you would disappear into air if he let go.

He was suddenly overwhelmed by a flood of emotions he had never experienced before. He had always prided himself on being tough, on being in control, on never letting anyone see his softness and vulnerability. He hated when things got too real.

But there he was, wrapped in your arms, holding onto you like a man drowning, like a wounded animal seeking safety and comfort.

His breathing was ragged, his heart was thudding so hard he was sure you could hear it. But he couldn't let go, he couldn't move away. He needed you, he needed your touch, your presence, like a moth to a flame. And suddenly, JJ didn't feel like shying away from the real stuff. He embraced it, at least for tonight, just like he was embracing you.

Your arms wrapped around his head holding him close to you, one of you hands tracing up and down on the length of his spine comfortingly, trying to make the tension in his body go away, you never had to comfort someone before, doing whatever felt right; whatever you saw in movies or read in books.

JJ felt a shiver run down his spine as your fingers traced the length of his back, tracing soothing patterns that were both gentle and firm. He leaned into your touch, his body relaxing involuntarily, the tension slowly melting away under your soothing touch.

He felt his muscles unclench, his breaths becoming slightly more steady, the rapid thump of his heart steadying to a slower tempo. He felt his eyelids flutter, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. He buried his face into your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

His grip on you loosened slightly, as he felt the exhaustion taking over him. He was so tired, both physically and emotionally. The day had been a roller coaster of events, and the adrenaline and tension were finally wearing off, leaving him to feel like a wrung-out rag doll in your arms.

He let out a soft, barely audible mumble against your neck, the words slurring together.

"I'm... so tired..."

"Come on.. you can sleep of you want. That is, if you don't want to shower." you mumbled, a small sad frown tugging at your face, and you were glad he couldn't see it given you were hugging him.

JJ felt a pang in his chest at your words. He knew he should take a shower, he was sweaty and grimey and he probably reeked. But the idea of moving, of pulling away from your embrace, was unbearable right now.

He shook his head slightly, his face still buried in the crook of your neck. His voice was soft against your skin.

"No shower... just... just let me hold you...please..."

You hummed, nodding against his head. You moved slightly, tugging him further on the bed so he could lay down and sleep. That way he ended up being the small spoon, his face still pressed into your chest, into the soft fabric of your hoodie. You took off your glasses setting on one of the many pillows next to you bringing him closer.

JJ felt a surge of gratefulness as you moved him to the bed, gently tugging him until he was lying on his side, his head pillowed on your chest. The feeling of you pulling him closer, your soft hoodie against his cheek, sent a wave of comfort through him.

He closed his eyes, burying his face into the fabric of your hoodie, inhaling the scent of you. He could feel your steady breaths beneath him, the slow, soothing rhythm of your heartbeat. It was the most soothing feeling he had ever experienced.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he mumbled something too incoherent for you to make out the first time.

"Hm?" you hummed gently, not quite making out what he said.

JJ felt your hum vibrate through your chest, the sound soothing and comforting. He cleared his throat slightly, repeating his soft, slurred words a bit louder this time.

"You... smell good..."

JJ inhaled deeply against your chest, his face still buried in your hoodie. He took a moment to savor your scent, letting it fill his nostrils and his heart, before answering.

"Like... perfume... and... and something... sweet and... comforting...?"

He paused, trying to put his muddled thoughts into words.

"Not like... like... those really strong scents that give you a headache... Yours smell... soft... and... nice..."

"Well... i didn't have time to shower so that's nice." you were in slight disbelief. Here you were, your childhood crush in your bed, in your arms and about to fall asleep. It was nice, even though you weren't dating or anything. You could probably get used to having JJ sleepily telling you, you smell good.

JJ chuckled softly, his voice still slightly slurred with exhaustion. He could feel the tiredness weighing down his body, his eyelids heavy, his mind sluggish. But he didn't want to sleep yet. He wanted to stay awake and bask in the moment, in the feeling of being in your arms, of you holding him so gently, so intimately. Like how he'd imagine it would feel if his mom held him in her arms. Maybe she did, and JJ just didn't remember it.

He shifted slightly, nuzzling into your chest, his arms tightening around your waist.

"You smell fine to me," he mumbled, his breath warm against your skin. His body was pressed up against yours, the heat of his skin seeping through the thin fabric of your hoodie. He could feel the rise and fall of your chest, the rhythm of your breathing steady and soothing.

He felt a strange mix of contentment and vulnerability, wrapped in your arms like this. It was a feeling he had never experienced before.

He was suddenly struck by a thought, and he mumbled against your chest. "Do you think... I stink... or something...?"

"No. You smell really nice actually. Like salt water and weed, and obviously male cologne and sun-screen.." you chuckled weakly, threading your fingers through his hair gently.

JJ's eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. It was a gentle, soothing gesture, and he found himself leaning into the touch, like a cat seeking affection.

He chuckled softly, his voice still slurred with exhaustion.

"Salt water and weed, huh? Sounds like a nice summer fragrance." He shifted slightly, burying his face deeper into your chest, inhaling deeply. The scent of your perfume and skin and fabric softener of your hoodie mingled together, creating a strangely comforting smell that he could not get enough of.

His body felt heavy, like his bones were made of lead. The exhaustion from the day's events finally catching up to him.

He mumbled against your chest, the words barely audible. "God, I'm tired..."

"Go to sleep JJ.." you mumbled comfortingly, your fingers still moving through his hair.

JJ felt himself nodding against your chest, his body relaxed and heavy. The soothing feel of your fingers moving through his hair, your warm body against his, the sound of your voice in his ear... it was all like a warmth surrounding him. Like sunlight on his skin when he was surfing and he was truly happy.

He mumbled something, his words slurred with sleepiness. "Stay with me...?"

The soft statement surprised you a little but you found the courage to hum in agreement. You knew he was probably just too sleepy, and that didn't mean anything but it still made you feel giddy and like a school girl with a crush, holding him tighter to your chest so he could fall asleep. You'd stay with him forever if he actually asked you.

JJ felt a wave of relief and comfort wash over him at your agreement. The idea of you staying with him, holding him as he slept, was like a soothing balm to his tired weary heart.

He nuzzled into your chest, his eyes closed, his limbs heavy with exhaustion. He mumbled something against your chest, but it was too soft and slurred to understand.

Slowly, gradually, he drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep, safe and warm in your arms.

The room was quiet except for the soft sounds of your breathing and JJ's soft, sleepy sighs as he slept on your chest.

He looked younger like this, his features relaxed, his mouth slightly open, his eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks. He looked so vulnerable and soft, not like the tough, sarcastic, bad boy he portrayed in public, especially asleep on your girly bedding and surrounded by dozens of your plushies.

His body was heavy and limp, his arms and legs sprawled out awkwardly, as if he had simply given up on trying to keep himself upright and just succumbed to the exhaustion.

Every now and then, he would mumble something incoherent in his sleep, a soft, almost inaudible utterance. He would shift slightly, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, seeking your warmth even in his unconscious state. His breaths were steady and slow, falling into a peaceful, regular rhythm. It was a far cry from the chaotic energy he exuded when awake, the constant movement and joking that seemed to define him.

He seemed so peaceful, so vulnerable, as if all the walls he built up when he was awake had fallen down in his sleep and left him exposed, unguarded.

Despite his usual bravado and swagger, there was something childlike about him in his sleep. The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips every now and then, as if he was having a pleasant dream.

He let out a soft mumbling sound, and his arms tightened slightly around you, as if he was afraid to let go, even in his sleep.

You stirred awake, the sunlight teasing you through the dusty pink curtains of your room. It took you almost a minute to realize the weight on your chest and in your arms was JJ. He had actually fell asleep in your arms and in your bed. It wasn't a dream. You propped your self on your elbow gently, gazing down at his sleeping form. He looked so soft and... not tense. His hair was messy and although his face was still battered and bruised he was still angelic looking. He glowed in the soft sunlight.

You were hesitant at first but you leaned in gently and carefully, pressing a small kiss on his forehead. You didn't want him to wake up. That would be weird, you were barely friends as it was, he would probably find it strange if he woke up and found you kissing his forehead while he slept.

JJ stirred slightly as you shifted, his eyelids fluttering open slowly. He felt groggy and disoriented at first, unsure of where he was and why were his nostrils assaulted by a very feminine smell.

As his eyes focused, he realized he was still in your bed, his body pressed against yours, your face just inches away from his. He felt a mix of surprise and embarrassment at the situation. How the hell did he end up falling asleep in your bed? With you? Cuddled up like some damn puppy.

He mumbled something, his voice thick with sleep, his eyes fixed on yours.

He could feel the warmth of your body against his, the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed. He was too groggy from sleep to fully process the situation, his brain still catching up to the moment.

He noticed the look in your eyes, the soft expression on your face, and he felt a sudden jolt of curiosity and... something else he couldn't quite name. He licked his dry lips, his voice still thick and raspy.

"Did... did I fall asleep on you?..."

"Kind of, yeah.." you mumbled, your voice a little gravelly with the remnants of sleep, your brain holding onto his every word in his sleepy voice. It was slightly deeper and gravelly (which probably would have made you giddy if you weren't half asleep still) like yours and he looked a little messy and confused. So pretty.

JJ felt a mixture of embarrassment and confusion at the revelation that he had fallen asleep on you. He wasn't sure how long he had slept, but judging by the sunlight coming through the curtains, it had been awhile.

He sat up slowly, rolling his neck and running his hand through his tousled hair, trying to get his bearings. He glanced at you, taking in your sleepy expression and messy hair, and he felt that strange flutter in his chest again. You looked... nice like that. Soft and warm and... pretty.

He cleared his throat, fighting back the strange fluttering in his stomach. he was not some damn lovestruck idiot.

He spoke, his voice still raspy with sleep, trying to sound casual. "How long was I out for?..."

You propped your self fully on your elbows gazing at him slightly unfocused from sleep and the lack of your glasses, shrugging shyly. God, his voice sounded so good in the morning. "i was also asleep.."

JJ chuckled weakly at your response. Of course, you were asleep too. It was such a stupid question.

He took a moment to study your face, still so close to his, noting the way your hair was messy and tousled from sleep, sticking out in different directions. He fought back the urge to reach out and run his fingers through that wild hair, maybe even tug on a strand a little... just because.

He cleared his throat again, tearing his gaze away from your messy hair and back to your eyes, a hint of amused confusion in his voice.

"So, I guess we passed out together, huh? In your bed... together..."

He paused for a moment, the reality of the situation sinking in, and he felt that familiar sense of embarrassment and confusion stirring within him. He mumbled under his breath, only half-joking, his southern drawl more obvious since he had just woken up. "This is a bit... awkward, ain't it?"

"I did bring you here to sleep after all..." you mumbled, your words shy and gentle, still laced with sleep as you gazed at him timidly.

JJ chuckled softly at your words, his voice still rough and raspy. "Yeah, you did... but I didn't expect we'd end up cuddling all night... in your bed..."

He tried to sound casual, tried to ignore the weird fluttering of butterflies in his stomach and the way his heart had started to beat a little faster as he looked into your eyes.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to distract himself from the situation, but his gaze kept returning to your face, to your messy hair and sleepy eyes... "I can't believe we slept like this... I must have been exhausted..."

He paused for a moment, his voice getting even quieter.

"Did I... did I talk in my sleep? Or... do anything weird...?"

"I wouldn't know... i was also passed out." you mentioned once again, your hand trying to casually smooth over your hair knowing how messy it got when you slept.

JJ watched as you attempted to tame your wild, tousled hair, a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He couldn't deny that he found the whole situation... endearing, in a chaotic, messy kind of way. You looked so different from your usual, reserved self, disheveled and groggy from sleep. He kind of liked it, though, found himself wishing to wake up next to you more often although he'd never admit that out loud.

He shifted a little, the blankets rustling as he adjusted his position, sitting closer to you, his body still warm from sleep.

He found himself wanting to reach out to you, to run his fingers through that messy hair, to smooth it back, to feel the softness of your strands against his skin...

He kept his hands firmly clasped in his lap, though, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. He mumbled softly instead, his voice a low, groggy rumble. "You look... different when you just wake up. Cuter, I guess..."

You gave up trying to tame your hair, putting it in a loose bun and searching for your glasses and placing them on your face. This was actually insane. JJ Maybank had slept in your bed, holding you nonetheless and now he was acting all casual about it. Like he didn't spend the night in a girl's bedroom, one he barely knew.

JJ watched as you pulled your hair back into a loose bun and put on your glasses. The whole scene was strangely domestic, and he felt weirdly comfortable. It was all very strange and... nice?

He kept his eyes on you, studying your movements, noting the way your hair still stuck out in some wild directions, despite your attempts to tame it. He found it endearing, somehow.

He leaned back against the headboard, resting his arms on his knees, his voice still low and sleepy.

"So, what... what now?"

"I.. dunno.. " you mumbled, stretching a little and letting out an involuntary squeal as you did, looking back at him and shrugging.

JJ couldn't help but chuckle at the little squeal you let out as you stretched. It was so unexpected, so unlike your usual, reserved self. He found himself liking this... softer, sleepier side of you.

He leaned forward a little, his eyes still on you, amused. "You squeak like a mouse when you stretch?"

"I'm living up to the nickname 'mouse' i guess.." you laughed softly referring to the nickname he called you usually.

JJ chuckled at your comment, a smirk playing on his lips as he remembered the nickname he'd given you. "Ah, right. Mouse. Guess it fits you. Small, skittish, squeaking when you stretch..."

He teased gently, his tone playful but not unkind. He leaned back against the headboard again, studying you for a moment, his eyes wandering over your tousled hair and sleepy expression.

He still couldn't believe he'd woken up cuddled up to you, his arms around you, your body pressed against his. It was all so surreal. And... not unpleasant, he had to admit.

He decided to test the waters a bit, his voice still low and raspy. "So, does this happen a lot? You letting guys sleep in your bed?"

Your brows furrowed at his question, letting out a yawn covering your mouth as you did so, "no...?" what a weird question.

JJ chuckled softly at your confused expression and sleepy yawn. He didn't know why he'd asked that question. It was a stupid question, really. "No? So... this doesn't happen often, then? Letting a guy sleep in your bed... cuddling with him all night..."

He didn't know why he was prodding you, but he liked seeing you slightly flustered and disoriented from sleep. It was... cute, in a way.

"Technically you asked me to hold you..." you spoke shyly, shrugging.

JJ chuckled again, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. He had asked for you to hold him, hadn't he. He just didn't think you'd actually do it, and definitely didn't expect he'd end up falling asleep in your arms.

He paused for a moment, his tone a bit sheepish.

"Yeah, I guess I did. And you actually agreed..." He ran his hand through his hair again, his expression becoming a little more serious.

"Are you... are you always this nice to strangers? You don't even really know me, mouse. And yet... you let me into your bed, slept with me in it, even held me and everything..."

He knew he was digging for answers, asking questions that bordered on personal. But he couldn't help himself. He was suddenly itching to know more about you, the mysterious, shy girl who had captured his curiosity after they spent 20 minutes locked up in a closet at a house party.

'Oh i know you alright.' You thought, "well.. we're friends right?" you asked hesitantly, furrowing your brows. Despite the whole picture thing, which you were curious about. Did he still have the picture of you from that day in the marsh?

Despite that, you had barely talked before all this, before getting stuck in the closet together that night at the party. He wasn't teasing you but, he wasn't talking to you either, barely knew of your existence. And now he was in your bed, probably carrying a picture of you everywhere. Weird.

JJ thought for a moment, considering your simple question.

"Friends? I... I guess so, sort of." He considered whether to ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue, but decided to go ahead with it, curiosity getting the better of him.

"I have a question."

"Yeah?" you raised your brows, prodding him to continue with his question.

JJ fidgeted with the edge of the blanket, his eyes flickering between your face and the bedsheet, suddenly feeling a bit... shy.

"That day in the marsh... That picture you took of me. Do you still have it?"

"Oh yeah..." you reached for your wallet on your nightstand, fishing the picture from it and holding it out to him shyly.

JJ took the picture from you, his fingers brushing against yours as he did. He felt his heart skip a beat at the brief touch.

He brought the picture closer to his face, studying his own face in the photo. He remembered that moment, how annoyed and pissed off he felt that day before noticing you crouched down between the reeds in the marsh, how you'd caught him in that vulnerable moment in the marsh with your camera.

He turned to you, a hint of embarrassed annoyance in his voice. "You... you really keep this in your wallet?"

"Well i gave you the picture you took of me that day... i thought it was only right to keep it. That's if you didn't keep that picture of me.." you chuckled nervously, adjusting your glasses and shifting on your bed.

JJ smirked at your response, a hint of smugness in his expression. "Of course I still have the picture of you. I carry it around all the time. In my wallet, with me everywhere."

JJ chuckled softly, a smug smirk on his face as he replied to your nervous comment. "I would never throw away a picture of you, mouse. That picture of you... that day in the marsh. I have it with me all the time. In my wallet. Everywhere I go."

JJ watched as you studied the picture, his expression soft. He had been teasing you by taking the photo that day, but seeing you now, seeing your face so close, your smile that he'd captured in that moment... he felt his heart flutter unexpectedly.

"I guess we... we both keep each other's pictures around, huh?"

You nodded mutely, handing the picture of you back to him. The situation was genuinely something so... strange. He was carrying the picture of you like you were a couple, sleeping in your arms and at your place like it was normal. You wondered if he did this usually, sleep over at girl's places and carried pictures of them.

You shifted your attention to glancing around your room, the soft sunlight seeping through the dusty pink curtains, the mess on the floor and the fact that you were still in your hoodie and jeans after having falling asleep with JJ. The first aid kit was still sprawled out on the foot of the bed, reminder that JJ didn't come here on his own. You had invited him over to let him sleep here after a fight with his old man. "what now?" you asked, turning to him, your voice still holding the remnants of sleep.

JJ took the picture from you, his fingers brushing against yours yet again, the touch like electricity on his skin. He placed the picture back in his wallet, his thoughts consumed with the idea that you carried around a picture of him... as he did of you.

He stretched, yawning softly and glancing around the room. This whole situation was so bizarre, but he couldn't deny the strange kind of comfort he felt, being here, in your room...

His eyes landed on the first aid kit, lying on the foot of the bed, and he remembered the reason he was here in the first place.

He looked back at you, his expression turning a little more serious. "Well, I guess I should probably get going... need to head back to the Chateau before the guys start wondering where I am."

He started to get up from the bed, but something in him was reluctant to leave. He didn't want this... strange, comfortable moment to end, this rare moment of quiet and intimacy with you.

He stood up, running a hand through his messy hair, trying to look composed as he glanced down at you on the bed. His eyes lingered on your face, taking in your sleep-tousled hair and sleepy expression. He couldn't help but find it adorable, in a way.

He cleared his throat, his voice a bit rough as he spoke again. "Thanks for... letting me sleep here, mouse. And... for all the bandages and stuff."

You looked down at your lap before standing up off the bed too, now on the opposite side of your bed, nodding hesitantly, "yeah... yeah, no problem." you scanned his form, his face still littered with the bruises and battered, black eye glaring at you in a dark purple.

You liked how he looked in your room, like he was supposed to be here. But that was just your years long crush talking. Being biased wasn't good for the heart, you learned throughout the years of liking JJ. You wondered if his bruised rib was doing any better, or if he liked sleeping with you, in your arms. But you were too shy to ask of course. And he was on the cusp of leaving anyway.

JJ couldn't help but notice the way you were looking at him, your gaze taking in his bruised and battered face. He felt a flicker of embarrassment, hating that you had to see him like this, all beaten up and wounded.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, feeling a bit awkward now that the strange, intimate atmosphere of the night seemed to be fading with the impending departure of the morning.

He glanced around the room, taking in the soft pink curtains, the messy floor, the small touches that made this place unmistakably yours. It was a stark contrast to the Chateau, to his chaotic and messy existence. He found himself wondering what it would be like, to be a part of this orderly, peaceful space.

His eyes fell on a framed picture on your dresser with you and your parents. He couldn't help but feel a pang of... what was that? Jealousy?

He took a step closer, studying the picture. You looked so happy in it, surrounded by your family, the picture filled with genuine joy. It was a stark contrast to his own family, or the lack thereof. He felt a pang of something painful in his chest, a mix of envy and longing for a life he'd never known.

He tore his eyes away from the picture, his gaze landing on you again. His voice was unusually quiet, almost fragile.

"This your family?"

You walked around the bed, stopping next to him awkwardly nodding. The picture was of you, your sister and your parents, on a vacation 4 years ago. The picture looked like you were all happy, the shot taken by another passer by tourist that your parents had asked. You weren't that thrilled to go with them that summer, but that was the only way 13 year old could spend time with emotional distant parents. And it wasn't like they were gonna leave you at home all alone at 13. How things changed, you thought. They're barely home with you now as you near the age of 18.

"yeah.."

JJ nodded slowly, studying the picture with a mix of jealousy and curiosity. It seemed so... normal, so perfect. A happy family on a vacation, smiling for a photo.

He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like, to have parents who cared enough to take him on vacations, to have a family that didn't fall apart at the seams.

He looked back at you, his eyes soft but his voice laced with a hint of bitterness.

"Must be nice."

He turned away from the picture, leaning against the dresser, his gaze flickering around the room once more. He felt a little out of place, like a wild animal that had somehow stumbled into a pristine, well-kept sanctuary. He was used to chaos, the Chateau, the constant fights and drama, the lack of stability and safety. This room, with its neatness and quiet peace, felt like a different world. A world he was just a visitor in, passing through on his way to something else.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, his shoulders slumped slightly.

He glanced back at you, taking in your shy, awkward stance next to him. There was something vulnerable about you right now, something that tugged at his heartstrings in a way he wasn't used to. He felt an unfamiliar urge to protect you, to shield you from the cruelty of the world. But he also knew he was the last person who should be doing any protecting. He was a Pogue, a mess, a lost cause. What could he offer you? A shitty life in the trailer park? Hell no. He knew what happened to that one dude from Greek mythology when he flew too close to the sun. And he was feeling like he was nearing that point by extending his stay here, with your warm presence that seemed to be melting his wax wings slowly.

He couldn't allow himself to free-fall.

He cleared his throat, his voice gruff as he tried to act nonchalantly, to cover up the vulnerability he was feeling.

"I guess I better get going, then. The guys are probably starting to wonder where I am. They're probably wondering why I was out all night, instead of crashing on the couch at the Chateau."

You drew in a sharp breath, nodding once again. You knew your parents weren't home, so him leaving through the front door wasn't a problem. "I'll walk you out.." you mumbled, gesturing towards the door of your room vaguely.

JJ nodded and made his way towards the door, followed closely by you. His mind was filled with conflicting thoughts and emotions, ranging from gratitude to uncertainty, lingering thoughts of the night before, the strange comfort he found in your presence, in your bed, in your embrace. As he reached the front door, he turned to you one last time, his gaze meeting yours. "Thanks... for everything, mouse."

He flashed you a small, lopsided smile, his usually cheeky smirk replaced by a surprisingly genuine one. For a moment, he looked younger, less hardened by his life on the Cut.

Then, with a final nod, he pushed open the door and stepped out into the cool, crisp morning air. JJ wasn't gonna let his wings melt and free-fall. He didn't have the luxury to..

—♡‧

A/N: Not them cuddling all night and carrying pictures of each other, like... King and queen of (was it casual?) They'd eat that tik tok trend up. Idk how this ended up also kinda angsty. Anyway, do not fret because next chapter we're finally getting action! It was about DAMN time. What did you guys think? love you all sm and don't hesitate to comment and send asks my fav part of this is interacting with y'all.

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Tag-list*:･ﾟ✧ @cali-888, @bee-43, @jjscoquette, @melsbels-zip, @stanseventeen

[bbrainr0t]

For when you flower II

Masterlist

Pairing: Emperor Caracalla x Greek!woman/reader x Emperor Geta

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, hints of PTSD/bad mental health, imbalance in the relationship (sexism, oppression, etc.), toxic, mentions of violence, blood, death, and slavery

Tags: Enemies to lovers (?), triangle drama/love (but no incest!!), unhealthy/toxic dynamics, slave x masters, no use of y/n, 1st person narrative

Summary: She wakes in another unknown place. Healed and alone, she ponders and dares to explore - but the peace is only sweet for a short while. Suddenly, images flashes before her eyes, and while she feels all hope is lost once more, a man holds her. A man unknown or is he?

Word count: 2.2K

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the love and support on the first chapter. It's gotten me all riled up and so inspired that you guys got me writing every night :,))) It really means a lot to me. Happy valentines! I hope whatever plans you have turn out to be enjoyable. I am sitting alone with wine, pizza, and Catullus (a roman poet) that I have to translate :pppp My ideal night honestly. (i'll probably also write... tihi)

Dictionary for this chapter:

Chiton = a form of tunic worn by men and women of ancient greek Agora = the central place of a city state, where people would tend their businesses and politics. Everything important happened here. Hellas = The ancient greek name for greece

It was not long after my arrival at the marble house that I was in the hands of a medic. A flute was playing off in the far distance and chatter were daring to make its way past the curtains, which kept me safe.  

I had felt exposed when I woke up. I was dressed in a finer material, but I did not feel like any hands had touched me. I felt clean. The medic had tended to me and poured a liquid down my throat that no longer scratches. My head feels clearer.

I woke up in a bed of straws covered in silk – a material I didn’t think I ever would get to feel again. The smoothest of all and the softest to touch. Although it made me feel at ease at first, an eerie feeling now replaces it and creeps through the cracks of the walls. Stone walls filled with words and greetings. Words, I cannot read, but still, I understand.

This room does not look to resemble the marble room in which I fainted. Here I feel a peace, a quiet before the storm, but it doesn’t cover its intentions ��� they are spelt out all over. It’s me, my bed, a side table and a little window at the top. By the looks of it, there is no light outside, so it must be night.

With a deep inhale I dare myself to feel the engravings. My fingers stumbling over each dent, each scratch filled with history. A kind feeling of doom invites itself inside my heart. I’m not the first to be here. A smile hitches and pushes my cheeks aside. I do not know why this agony from past slaves is giving me such cheer. It feels a waste to mourn the dead.

Whatever they’ve given me, I think to myself, I would like an ocean of that.

There is no chaos other than outside the curtains, and even there it has seemed to calm down. The only other life nearby seems to be the flame dancing in the dark beside the bed. I let my fingers wander down my drapes as I pull myself up to sit. It’s a chiton in a pale white with subtle embroidery of gold. It echoes the few moments in the marble room, almost like a reflection of the endearing pillars.

Our pillars.

My jaw tenses. No slave bears these drapes that I am sure of. But I am not sure if I want to admit to it. Had my destiny shifted once more? There is no blur now to confuse, so it must be true. What are these drapes supposed tell me about their intentions with me?

The silk beneath me suddenly gets a whole new meaning, it’s almost like an apology. But who is it from? The effect of the mystery liquid is wearing out. The ache is coming back but it’s starting to feel wrong. Am I to feel gratitude?

The emperors had not touched me, not that I would’ve felt it, but no matter how hard I search I see no filth.

I had only gotten a glimpse of them. An idea of who they really were. In Hellas they were known as the worst of mankind, especially after the attack, but that voice of … Caracalla were no man. It was a tormented soul. And, I suppose, Geta were no tyrant. He sounded as common as a sparrow. It was the riches that alienates them in my head. The blood of my people around their necks. My brothers and sisters’ nooses twinkling on their chest - as I only can imagine. I never got a real look at them. I do not know how they look.

Are they nearby? How was I to know.

I push my feet over the bedside and let my bare feet meet the cold floor. The chiton following swiftly and rhythmically. Slowly, I make my way towards the curtain and try to ease my curiosity by softly pulling it aside. I only dare to do so because the only noise that can be heard is one merely echoing like a word under water.   I find myself looking at another wall which stretches to both the right and the left. It’s small and narrow like a tunnel. I must be underground. I wait a second before stepping outside, carefully tiptoeing to make no sound. There is no one, and if there truly is no one, I have a chance at escape. My first in months.

There is a light to my right, which seemingly is leading upstairs. It’s a chance to be taken.

Horrors return to my head. Images. Blood. Screams. Voices.

I grab a hold of my head, squint my eyes close. I must make it stop. But the images never stop. They feel so real. I see them so clearly.

Wasted bodies on the shore, by the agora. No politics, only war flooded the streets.

“Quiet!” Is the clearest thing I hear.

The images keep changing. I see my brother on the beach. His head is underwater. His body on shore. His clothes unraveled. There’s laughter and humiliation. The soldiers, they grab the body.

I lean to my right up against the engravements, hoping that history will hold me one last time.

“Shh! Quiet!” It’s an intruder to my nightmare.

Suddenly I feel myself wheezing, struggling to pull air in my lungs. I become strangely aware of my body beneath the fabric. It feels as if a hand grabs at my waist. Tears start to stream, unfortunately they have returned, but somehow, they make the wall seem less coarse. A hand between me and the wall.

The weight of my body disappears as my feet fall beneath me, but I do not hit the floor.

“Stop… stop… I do not know how to make this stop.” The voice becomes clearer. It feels too real and too foreign to be in my head. I continue to puff. My lungs crumbling beneath my rib cage.

There’s a pain placed not in my heart but on my cheek. It stings. Senses rush back and I hear sobbing, not only of my own but also of somebody else. A mutual in this pain. I force my eyes open, slowly not to blind myself.

It’s a man. Snot running down over his rosa lips and unshaved chin. His cheekbones spotted with small faults and scratches. His hair messy and slightly curled, the color a shade of pure but dirty gold, almost a shade of orange. His eyes red and irritated, filled with tears, showing pure distress. They are glassy, reflecting every feeling within me. “Please stop.” His voice, so coarse like he has been screaming.

There is a sound of boots beating the ground, armor clashing against itself. The man is quick pull me back behind my protective curtain, where I probably should’ve stayed. I trip and so does he, but he is quick to try and save me from hitting the floor rather than himself. I gasp, feeling his hand on my back – the other covering my mouth. He sits us down on the ground. My knees and his slightly scratched by this movement. Fear is raging in the depths of his eyes. He clenches his hand against my mouth, lightly scratching my skin. I quiver without sound.

The boots pass by, and the man lets go, but only for a second. His thumbs remove my tears eagerly and then cupping my jaw. Usually I would be afraid, because no man holds a woman in such way without it being with dirty intention – but this is different. He’s holding me like he had lost me. A touch so rough and selfish yet so caring. I am frozen in his touch.

There is a calm.

He does not dare to break the silence. He’s busy removing every sign of ache that might’ve trailed my face. I just remain still and watch his every move.

He’s wearing a white toga, which barely covers up his body as intended, revealing a hairy chest. His arm is slightly toned but as his cheeks, there is a layer of fat bulging more than muscle. This is a man of status but not far up. Perhaps only a slave, on the run. Perhaps he is just like me.

“Who are you…?” I whisper in Latin, cautiously, examining his face, waiting for a reaction.  I dare not to think that this is another one of my hallucinations. This feels too real. Too raw.

He seems slightly surprised by my question at the same time as his eyes somewhat clears up. He sniffs. “Who am I?” His jaw moves astray like he is holding back. Like I should know.

I nod hesitantly. By the looks of it, he is not in his right mind. But neither am I, so I dare not trust every thought popping in my head. I hold tight onto the feeling of gratitude towards this stranger as it keeps me at bay. He’s still shaking, and so am I.

“That… that doesn’t matter.” He sniffs. His voice seems so fragile that I could imagine it would break if the tiniest of winds would try to puff it off balance.

“…Okay.” I softly respond and look into his eyes. His blue, naked eyes.

He is looking from one eye to the other. No other words are needed. The contact is all we both need to calm. I notice he too has stopped crying. I can only wonder what has caused him pain. I reach out tentatively to dry his tears in the same manner, but before I reach his face, he grabs my wrists. He’s still on guard.

“It’s… it’s okay.” Is my only try at reassuring him.

His only response is a single nod as he slowly lets go, dropping his hands to his lap. And so, I tend to his distress as a return of his kindness. His face softening for every tear I remove. I grab the silk off the bed to dry his nose, patting it carefully to not disturb the calm breathing.

“I will keep you safe.” He proclaims and sounds if he is promising it more to himself than me. “I will remember you tomorrow and claim you as mine.”

The words rush through my bloodstream like burning iron, daring to turn cold and keep my body in shape, frozen in movement. The words “claim you as mine” echo.

His eyes seem quick to worry, grabbing a hold of my wrists once more, but this time to pull me in to hold me at his chest. His arms are clamming my body close. An act so compassionate, a feeling so claustrophobic. Merely four words and all hope are lost. Reality hitting, the imbalance revealing itself. His voice returning in my head, not as how he just spoke but as a reminiscence from earlier. The burdened.

It's the emperor.

Questions arise. What is he doing here? Why is he being chased? What has he done? Why is he holding me so close, so dear? I am not his friend; I am his enemy. Does he not know?

“I know how you feel.” The burdened sniffs. “I know how you feel right now. I knew it from the moment I saw you. You and I are the same.” His hand goes to grasp my head once more, squeezing me closer, choking me lightly. Or maybe I’m just holding my breath.

He knows not of my pain.

“That man was so cruel. He knows nothing of health. Nothing!” His fingers turn to pierce my scalp, but inventively as he is quick to stop again. “Oh- I’m so sorry – so sorry, meus flos.”

He speaks of words I do not know. I try to suppress the panic, not to alarm him. I am afraid of a reaction. I place my hand against his toga, pushing myself slightly away, and he softens his touch, letting me go. Scared, I let my eyes land on him again. I try to take every bit of him in. One of the men responsible of my lands abuse.

I should’ve known it was him. I should’ve stood on guard. He is nothing like me. Not at all. He is of wealth, obtained from plunder of the poor, of me.  

But why is he showing me mercy? Is this a cruel joke played by the Gods? Oh, how they mock me.

“I do not wish to hurt you.” He shakes his head childlike. The personality from earlier taking shape right before me.

He reaches his hand to hold my jaw once more, but I move away instinctively. And oh, how it seems to hurt him, but only for a short while.

“You’re right. We need rest.” I am unsure wherever he is imagining that I told him off. “GUARDS!”

The sudden yell startles me, and fear grabs me once more. What is he going to do??

As quick as a water droplet hits the surface, guards dressed in armor, wearing purple come maraging in. I have no time to react.

“My emperor-“

“Enough! Escort me and meus flos to my bedroom. And bring her a separate bed.”  

The guards look shocked, speechless even.

“QUICKLY!”

Apollo, what are you doing to me?

Next chapter: 16th February :)

Taglist: @syraxnyra, @omg-hellgirl, @t6gse370, @duckyhowls, @littlemissholy

[babylacedream]

I'll throw my heart out to the ocean tonight

pairing: merman!rafayel x f!thalassophile reader

warnings: suicidal attempt & ideation, mini panic attack, cancer patient, angsy

summary: recently, you were diagnosed with cancer in your heart that would soon take your life. you have been obsessed with the ocean ever since you were a child, and when all hope was lost, you decided to give your heart out to the ocean.

note: inspired by pinkpantheress unreleased song called ocean. i recommend listening, its a beautiful song.

The beeping sounds of your heart monitor and the occasional sounds of nurses passing by were starting to bother you. Even the stench from your hospital room gave you a headache. The bitter-like smell of chemicals made you feel nauseous.

You started feeling breathless, as your chest pain was too unbearable to handle. Tears streamed down your cheeks. You couldn't scream for help nor rid yourself of this ache.

You tried calming yourself by grounding yourself by looking around your room. Many seashells hung up on the white walls. Pictures of whales, dolphins, and turtles.

The throbbing pain in your heart stopped. You breathed with exhausted exhales and inhaled.

You weaky reached for your phone, playing your playlist you kept especially for moments like these. The sound of the waves of the sea, and the moans of the whales carried you as you soon fell asleep on your hospital bed.

The next day was like every other miserable day in this place, getting chemotherapy, having to join therapy groups, and occasional greetings from doctors who have failed you.

Your parents made sure that you were taken good care of and observed carefully after your recent attempt. Their influence reached even the deadliest parts of your life. The life you wanted control over.

You wanted to see the ocean before your inevitable end. You wanted to give the ocean, the most bruised part of your body that failed you. In hopes, that it would make a beautiful seashell that twinkled and basked under the moonlight and stars.

You would hope that it would live on for years and years to come to preserve the ocean.

"Wishful thinking."

One night when the night seemed too quiet and long, you ripped out the IV out of your inner elbow, and blood dripped down your arm. You placed your feet inside your slippers and changed out of your hospital gown to a pink-laced nightgown. Soon, the blood on your arm would stain your nightgown almost as if foreshadowing your doom.

These past few months, you've studied the nurse's scheduled time off making sure when they left, you timed it on your phone. You were able to easily slip by their suffocating watch.

The automatic doors opened as you reached the door of the hospital entrance. A relieving sigh escaped your lungs as you walked out of the place you called, purgatory.

The night sky was darker than the other nights. You requested beforehand a taxi. As you sat in the back looking out the window reminiscing about your life. You knew you would not have regrets.

Your parents? The one time you've ever asked them for anything, you even begged your parents to release you or see the ocean but they refused, deeming it idiotic and selfish.

But, instead of loving you, they used you to gain pity from their supporters to gain an upper hand as a candidate in their political standings. You left a note on your hospital bed, hoping that this would be your last and final way of getting your revenge against them.

Your friends? They became bored when they realized you lost your parent's favor after being diagnosed with heart cancer. Back then, you cried so much but now all your tears have dried out for those people.

"This is your stop."

The driver called out, slipping you out of your reminiscing. You stepped out of the taxi and closed the door.

You turned around to face the ocean, hearing the sound of the waves crashing felt liberating. As the wind was howling, it made your nightgown and hair move against the winds.

At this point, you were losing a lot of blood but you didn't let that stop you. You took off your slippers as if the sand were holy ground, stumbling in the progress as you stepped on the sand.

Your eyes trickled with tears as adrenaline pumped through your body erasing the throbbing pain in your heart. Your feet reach the cold ocean water, and you let your feet get used to the feeling as your toes shift under the sand.

You let out a breathy puff as you felt tears forming yet again. You weren't in tears for your miserable life but for your pass over to the ocean.

"I'll throw my heart out to the ocean tonight. I hope you'll accept me as I am, bruises and all."

You gloomily softly spoke into the wind before walking deeper into the water. Your nightgown became drenched in water as the waves splashed on you. Your nightgown became heavily engulfed by the water.

Your heartbeat pumped so loudly that the sound of the waves was too low to hear. Irritated, you drove under the water completely submerged under the water.

The water filling your ears felt good, for your heartbeat was silenced. Holding your breath, you swam further. You wanted to rest where not even the filthiest hands could ever reach you.

You ascend to breathe before weakly submerging again. When you were far from land, you ascended again to catch a glimpse of the moon and stars above the sky.

"How peaceful."

You thought the waves would be rough, but it was surprisingly calm. Could this be a sign? A sign that the ocean accepts you as you are?

The calm waters and the oceanic smell of salty air consumed you even more; it felt like something was pulling you in, like the current.

It felt alluring, almost like the deep sea lily that hypnotizes and captivates with a sweet smell to only drown its prey with its venomous blooms.

You were starting to cough up blood and grimace at the feeling; it was affecting your blood vessels and spreading to your lungs. Though you were violently coughing, the oceanic waves receded gently.

You had to hurry; you were running out of time. You swam even further in; the surrounding sea was dyed with bits of your blood. You took one last look at the moon and stars and drove underwater holding your breath.

Gravity usually pulls you up, but gravity seems to keep you down. When you were completely surrounded by nothing but your thoughts. You close your eyes, letting yourself float as you sink even deeper.

'Please, make my heart into a beautiful, pleasing seashell that can live on for days and days to come.'

Your nightgown and hair were floating with you as you descended. You hoped that the waters would carry you to a peaceful place. As water filled your lungs, you struggled underneath the hold death held on you.

You never wanted this, never wanted death, but if death meant ultimate peace, you would surely let it take you.

Unbeknownst to you, a certain merman heard you. You, a poor, sicky human, have been accepted by the Sea God himself.

You heard a siren-like voice sing in an ancient language. It was pleasing to hear. You opened your eyes, hoping to see a whale, but it was hard to see as your vision started getting blurry, but you could see the outline of a fish... or a tail? A merman...

You thought you were only hallucinating; how beautiful to see a merman at your approaching death. You closed your eyes again, letting yourself be consumed by the sea.

You felt a pair of hands cupping your cheeks; you wanted to look, but your eyes felt so heavy. The hands caressed your cheeks almost lovingly. Then, it went to your lips, rubbing them with its thumb. A kiss that felt soft and good gave you the gift of breathing underwater.

But you were still dying.

The hands slowly went to your neck, caressing it, and lowered down to your chest in the direction of your heart. You felt the string of fate mend your heart to perfection.

You opened your eyes to see a merman with dusky purple hair and bluish-pink eyes. The merman had iridescent light blue scales surrounding his skin and fish-like ears that you were sure would sting you if you touched them.

You looked down weakly to see an iridescent light blue tail that looked more beautiful than anything you'd seen in your life. You were sure, the merman was about 8 feet. The attracting tail swayed back and forth as you followed its movements.

The merman smiled, seeing how you gazed at his tail. He gently supported you in his arms, lifting your body and wrapping your legs around his waist. The merman didn't want to be apart from you.

His smooth fingers gently raised your chin to look at him. Then, he grabbed your wrists, placing them around his neck so you would feel more secure in his hold.

"I heard your cry. Oh, weary human." A melodious voice spoke with a lamentable expression cascading his ravishing face.

"I have accepted your heart, as is." The merman looked towards your now healed chest, gone from any scars on your body. It's almost like he knew of your suffering. Your miserable life.

"Now, won't you be my bride, mm?" He waited for your answer as he slowly glided his hand down your leg.

"Won't you be mine?" You were trembling; being affectionately cared for by an oceanic ancient creature was transcending.

You simply gave him a slow and unsure nod as you pulled him in for a hug, hiding your face away from him. You heard chuckling escape the merman.

The merman started rubbing your back in soothing motions. This merman saved your life, took your pain away, and mended it into something beautiful.

"This is your home now."

[straows]

𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘥, 𝘯𝘰 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘺, 𝘕𝘖 𝘔𝘈𝘕. 𝘐’𝘮 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘢𝘭����… 😔

𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰. 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘞𝘌𝘌𝘋 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘺 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬.

You were quick to leave the house. Feeling sick to your stomach, and salty tears burning down your cheeks, you pulled out of the drive. You looked like a hot mess. Wearing an oversized t-shirt and nothing but leggings and some socks, you shouldn’t be on the road.

And you damn sure shouldn’t be driving.

Your phone was blowing up though, the contact ‘Handsome man❤️’ get popping up. One call, two calls, three calls, and before you knew it you racked up 75 missed calls, and 124 messages.

After running a few red lights, and almost pit maneuvering some old bitch for going to damn slow, you made it finally to your girls house. And before you could even knock on that door, the lady herself had ripped the door open from its hinges and yanked you inside.

“Ho, I have seen you on Life360 driving like you ain’t got nothing to lose! What the fuck is wrong with you?” She glared at you, worried for sure, but her anger melted in the face of your teary, puffy and red face. “Oh what happened? Here sit down and I’ll get you a drink.”

“H-he thinks I’m ugly and- and he knows I’ve been working out now and-“ your sniffles kept breaking up your sentence, soft voice cracking under the pressure of heart ache.

“Baby he does not think you’re ugly. Have you seen that man? Have you seen the shit he comments on your post? If he wasn’t your boyfriend I’d have half the mind to report his ass for harassment. Dude is thirsty.”

Now that did make you laugh, a little smile rose to your lips before you sighed and stared at the ground before finally talking about what happened. And you told her everything.

“That’s why you’ve been losing so much weight? Girl that is for the wrong reason! You are so fine already, woman what the hell is wrong with.” Your best friend sat down beside you, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh as she wiped your face.

“I don’t know… it’s just the way he looked at her.” And the water works started all over again.

“He was drunk- and now I know the saying drunk words are sober thoughts but I don’t think that applies to this situation.” She held your hands before letting you rest your head on her shoulder. “That man is in love with you, y/n. Yeah, he’s a dumbass. And yes, you did gain weight but that was some sexy weight.”

You found yourself smiling again as you looked up at her. “Yeah?”

“Hell yes. If I was a man I’d be tappin’ that ass so quick!” The woman laughed along with you, smiling before leaning forward and handing you some water.

“So you think he was just talking out his ass?” You looked over at her, eyes no longer glossy from crying.

“Yes! Didn’t you say he just watched Transformers? You KNOW what that movie does to him- makes him act all weird n shit.” Your friend’s lips curled in disgust and you couldn’t help but cackle.

“Oh my god he does do that doesn’t he?” You couldn’t not laugh. It was like a kid trying to be a gangster, except it made Gojo act like an asshole. “He’s so weird.” You smiled fondly, the pressure on your chest elevated a little bit.

“He is so weird! Why the hell did you pick him? And after all the fine ass men I tried to set you up with.” Your friend got up and grabbed some snacks.

“Um, they weren’t fine, you just wanted them to give you free weed by extension of me.” You rolled your eyes but laughed when she glared at you.

“We would have BOTH gotten free weed.” She threw a bag of chips at you, before noticing your phone still blowing up. “Damn- 300 unopened texts?!”

“Should I answer him?” You looked down at your phone, the phone still locked but you could see the number of texts and called.

“Yes. Girl I promise you he loves you. And even if you do gain weight, you look good with some thick on you. Like white on rice I’m finna be on that ass if you don’t answer that phone cause it’s starting to piss me off.” Your friend left the room to give you some privacy.

You smiled as you watched her walk away before finally picking up the phone and opening it.

“BABY! PLEASE ANSWER ME!”

“DONT DO THIS I LOVE YOU!”

“I MEANT TO RESPOND I WAS JUST SHOCKED!”

“I REMEMBERED WHAT I SAID AT THAT PARTY- BABY I DIDNT MEAN IT!”

“PLEASE RESPOND TO ME Y/N I NEED YOU TO KNOW THAT I DIDNT MEAN IT!”

“I JUST WATCHED CARS, YOU KNOW WHAT IT DOES TO ME!”

“BABY YOU COULD BE 900lbs AND I WOULDNT CARE!”

“PLEASE!”

“I WILL KEEP TEXTING YOU!”

“AND CALLING!”

“BABY!”

“NOT TO MENTION I WAS DRINKING YOUR BAD BITCH JUICE!”

“PLEASE IT WAS THE WINE NOT ME”

“I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOUR BODY. YOUR FACe, YOUR PERSONALITY, I LOVE YOU!!!!!”

Sighing softly, you finally answered one of his many calls. Picking up the phone, you could hear his breath panting into the phone, little sniffles heard on the other line.

“Baby?” His voice sounded so sad it broke your heart. “Look I know you’re mad, and you have every right to be I was an absolute prick- I’m so so sorry!”

“Satoru…” looked down at your knees, you took a moment before answering, “that’s the reason I’ve been dieting and doing all this… I just want you to look at me like you did that woman…”

“Baby, fuck that woman! I was not in my right mind CLEARLY, because I said some stupid shit! I love YOU and your body. Baby I love you for you. And yes, you had some extra weight put on, but I loved it. Knowing that I was making you happy enough to relax and eat freely? I was so proud.”

“Really?” You asked, your bottom lip quivering as your heart did flips. “Even my belly?”

“Baby your belly makes me feral. I see it freely when you wear a dress? My cocks hard instantly. I don’t know what it is but I love that shit. But I love YOU more. If you wanna lose weight? That’s fine, I’m here with you. Hell I’ll go with you to the gym. But you wanna gain weight? Oh baby I am so fine with that too.”

“You really mean all this?”

“Yes. On my life. On the elders’ lives. On the neighbors and his children’s lives, and on the life of that stupid ass American president, I’m in love with you and everything you do. I will forever feel like shit for doing this to you baby I’m so sorry.”

“I love you.” You cried into the phone, happy tears as all that heavy weight of anxiety and sadness rushed straight out of you.

“Please let me come get you, or you come here- or- or I’ll come to you- anything you want y/n.” Gojo was shaking on the other line he was talking so fast. You had this man so wrapped around your finger he was sweating. The thought of him hurting you- in anyway, had him going through more phases than Bella did when Edward dumped her.

“I’ll come home. I miss you.” You were quick to get up and grabbed your things. “I love you, I’ll see you when I get there.” Quickly hanging up, you gave your friend a bone crushing hug before rushing to your car.

When you pulled into that driveway, Gojo was standing outside by the front door. And when you opened your door he yanked you out of that car so fast, wrapping his arms around and pulling you to his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he pressed a quick kiss to your lips, then your nose, eyes, corner of your lips, your forehead, cheeks and chin, no part of your face went unkissed.

Giggling at all his antics, you wrapped your hands around his nape before pulling him into a deep, but loving kiss.

His hands grew tight around your waist, keeping you close as could be as he pressed further into the kiss. Mind you, y’all hadn’t been with each other in weeks. Let alone touched, hugged, kissed or cuddled.

The neighbor rushed out of the house, his ass on fire he was so angry, “quit kissing in the got damn drive way!” Grabbing his hose he immediately aimed it at you two.

Gojo merely flipped him off and deepened the kiss. A giggle split you two apart, you couldn’t stop smiling. Like the happy ending to a movie, Gojo guided you up the steps and inside, but not before he slapped your ass playfully.

After that day, things went back to normal. Hell, even better than normal. Gojo did not go near your wine, nor did he watch Cars 1 or 2. He always had a hand on you, an arm around your waist or an arm around your neck. Where you were, he was.

You gained the weight back, and Gojo did as he said he would. The happy weight you gained was like an aphrodisiac, this man is insane. He’s bending you over the counter, the couch, the bed, the shower, everywhere. He’s fucking you in the walmart bathroom, in an alleyway, at a bar. Hell he cannot not be around you or touch you.

It’s safe to say he’s definitely in love with you. But so are you. And that makes y’all the best couple.

𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴

𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴

𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.

𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥’𝘷𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘢 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘺, 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘐’𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 😏.

𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘝𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦

@thesecretlifeofmo @hanakotateyama @fishrene @moonchhu

[callme-holly]

Hi! I love your work sm! 💕 could you please do a reader x Dallas where the reader is a waitress and Dallas comes into the restaurant for her break and/or picks her up when her shift is over? Thank you!!! 💕

𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 [𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

a/n: ohhh i love this. dont know if its very good sorry... but i might be a little on and off soon as ive got 3 weeks of exams :(

The diner was bustling with it’s usual patrons, the sea of noise rising and falling in waves as people conversed and laughed, all social responsibilities seemingly forgotten inside. Every single booth was packed full, and you were getting quite tired of running back and forth every few minutes to tend to a new request at a new table. 

You were so caught up in trying not to drop a tray of milkshakes, holding it steadily as you weaved between a group of soc boys all crowding around a table, that you didn't even hear the bell tinkle above the door, nor did you notice when a familiar face strode in, leather jacket slung over his shoulder, an unlit cigarette between his lips.

Dallas watched you for a few moments, smirking as he made his way to the counter, sitting himself down with a huff on a barstool. He looked like some type of guard dog, all brooding expressions and narrowed eyes, a protective gleam in them as he observed the way you set down the drinks and smiled sweetly at the customers. 

Everything about you always seemed so genuine; the way you managed to talk to people and hold a conversation, the way you charmed them with that smile of yours that seemed to light up an entire room. You made everything seem so easy, and that’s why Dallas kept coming back to you. Every single time.

You worked your way around the diner, moving gracefully and taking orders in a way that was so efficient you put any other waitress to shame. The jukebox played lowly in the background, and you swayed subtly to the music, humming as you slowly headed back towards the counter; however, you stopped short the moment your eyes met his. You felt your whole face heat up, your cheeks flushing and embarresment flooding you. Your heart thumped wildly in your chest, and you couldn't help the smile that crept onto your face as you stepped towards him, allowing his arms to wind around your middle.

"What're you doing here?" you mumble, sparing embarrassment clock and letting your shoulders drop once you realise you were meant to be on break five minutes ago. With little to no hesitation, you grab him by the arm and pull him into the back room, letting the door swing shut behind you. It was much quieter there, away from the hum of noise and the sound of the diner's din.

Dallas grinned down at you, capturing your lips in a searing, almost desperate kiss. "What? Can't I visit my girl whilst she's on her break?" 

You let out a small laugh, rolling your eyes fondly and melting into him as his hands rested on your hips. "You're so full of yourself, you know that?" You teased playfully, stepping away eventually and making your way over to the sink in the corner, washing your hands free from the sticky residue of various drinks and the ink that had leaked from your pen. 

Dallas watched you closely, leaning back against the door, cockiness radiating off of him. "You look damn good in that uniform, baby. Did I ever tell you that?" 

You hum vaguely, nodding and reaching for a towel. "You've mentioned it before," you turn and let yourself rest against the lip of the sink, giving him a wary look. "What are you after, Winston?" 

"What makes you think I'm after something?" His eyes widen in mock innocence, and you give him a knowing look, raising your brows. He always plays sweet when he  wants something but is never quite sure of how to get it. It was just another little thing about him that you'd come to notice after all these months spent together. You're probably the only one to ever take notice of the way his eyes soften slightly when he looks at you, the slight curve in his mouth when he grins, and how he tries to hide it whenever it becomes too clear.

After a few moments, he huffs dramatically, kicking off the wall and  stalking forward until you can feel his body pressed up against yours, trapping you between him and the sink. "I just want to know what time you're off work, angel. That's all." 

His voice is surprisingly sweet, and you're stunned into silence for a few seconds, gazing up at him through fond, adoring eyes.

"4." You force out, stumbling slightly over the word as you add, "I finish at 4. A little earlier today. It's not as busy after then, so they won't need me." 

He nods slowly, processing what you're saying before  speaking again. "Good." The grin he gives you sends butterflies into your belly, and your breath hitches slightly as he leans closer to you, his hands now resting against the sink momentarily on either side of you. "Then I'll pick you up later, if you want."

Your gaze drops to his lips momentarily, before meeting his eyes and giving him a soft smile. "I'd like that." 

"I know you would. That's why I'm offering." He closes the distacnce between you both, the kisses getting more and more heated as they go on, and you have to remind yourself several times to breathe, ducking out from his hold with a laugh. 

"Dal... I only have like ten minutes left--" 

He cuts you off with a smug look, brushing your hair back. "So? I only need ten minutes, doll."  His thumb brushes lightly along your cheekbone, and you lean into the touch despite yourself.

"Smug bastard." You whisper, but you don't push him away again as he leans in for another kiss, simply allowing it to happen. 

[variablejabberwocky]

i am begging people who make lingo-heavy essay videos that are several hours long to:

give us some tonal breaks every now and then. all depressing shit all the time for SEVERAL HOURS in a ROW is soul-crushing, not informative.

give us a break from the heavy thinking stuff AT LEAST every two hours. even college level lectures don't run longer than that without a break because people WILL check-out once their brain is fried if you don't let them rest

consider breaking very long videos (the one that inspired this was OVER FOUR HOURS LONG) into smaller parts in a playlist so they're easier to start/stop without loosing your place because even a tiny nudge to the tracking bar is the difference of like 10 minutes of very dense talking

if you aren't gonna do any of the above then DUMB YOUR VIDEOS DOWN. use more layman's terms, simplify concepts, avoid the heaviest parts. the number of people who can handle what you are trying to do as you are currently trying to do it is MINUSCULE. do you want people to watch it and learn from it, or do you just want to sound smart for several hours?

like yes this is an important and serious thing but like PEOPLE NEED BREAKS. yes people need to relearn how to pay attention but FOUR HOURS OF CONSTANT NEW BARELY DEFINED TERMS IS EXCESSIVE. yes this is all related but IF I CAN'T START AND STOP IT BECAUSE THE TIME BAR IS TOO CROWDED YOU HAVE FAILED TO ALLOW ME TO FOCUS ON THIS BECAUSE I CAN'T COME BACK TO IT LATER IF I NEED TO.

please

please

try to make your stuff in such a way that actual people can watch it and learn from it.

[ratatatastic]

local man haunts (me) open practise yet again more news at 11

[skunkes]

ok posting it here bc im not sure if its going to stay in the doodle page

[guinevereslancelot]

got dumped 😭💔

[faaun]

ok let's catch up quickly

[problemcore]

i miss this game already

[harrysfolklore]

christ-max -mv1

summary: you invite your boyfriend max to spend christmas with you for the first time, however, your family doesn't quite believe you're dating a formula 1 world champion. wc: 5.8k

folkie radio: HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF YOUUUU! i hope you're having the best day ever with your loves ones. this fic ended up being longer than i intended but i hope you like it!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You're nestled into Max's side on his couch, wrapped in the soft throw blanket he keeps specifically for these quiet moments together. The afternoon light filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Monaco apartment, casting a glow across the room. Your feet are tucked under you, and you can smell the lingering scent of the coffee you both made earlier.

The Netflix show you'd put on - some random documentary about deep-sea creatures - has become mere background noise. Max's fingers are threading through your hair in that gentle way that always makes you melt, occasionally stopping to massage your scalp. .

"I can't believe the season's actually over," you murmur, tracing lazy patterns on his arm. "Feels weird not having to plan around race weekends anymore."

Max chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rests. "Yeah, but now we have to plan around all the end-of-year events instead. Did you see how many galas and ceremonies are coming up?"

"At least those don't involve you flying halfway across the world," you tease, tilting your head to look up at him. His hair is slightly messy, free from its usual styling, and you resist the urge to reach up and run your fingers through it.

"True," he agrees, then glances at his phone on the coffee table. "Speaking of events, I can't believe it's already December. Christmas is going to be here before we know it. Guess time flies when you're busy winning championships."

Your heart skips a beat. This is the opening you've been waiting for. You've been thinking about this for weeks, planning how to bring it up. "Actually… I wanted to ask you something about Christmas," you start, sitting up slightly to face him better.

Max's blue eyes meet yours, curious. "What's on your mind?"

"Well…" you bite your lip, suddenly feeling nervous despite knowing there's no reason to be. "I was wondering if you'd want to spend Christmas with me and my family this year? I know we've kept things private, but I really want them to meet you, and-"

"Wait, really?" Max interrupts, his whole face lighting up with that boyish excitement that made you fall for him in the first place. "You want me to meet your family?"

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Of course I do. We've been together almost a year now, and they keep asking why I'm always smiling at my phone." You playfully poke his side. "Which is your fault, by the way."

He catches your hand, intertwining your fingers. "My fault? I'm just being my naturally charming self," he grins, then his expression turns slightly more serious. "But are you sure? I mean, won't they be surprised when you show up with, well…"

"With a four-time World Champion?" you finish for him, laughing. "Actually, my dad might pass out. He's been watching F1 since before I was born. He has no idea I've been dating his favorite driver."

Max's eyebrows shoot up. "I'm his favorite driver?"

"Don't let it go to your head," you warn playfully. "But yeah, he's got your merchandise and everything. It's actually kind of embarrassing how much he talks about you during race weekends."

Max throws his head back laughing, and you can't help but join in. "Oh God, this is going to be interesting," he says, wiping at his eyes. "What about the rest of your family?"

"Well, Mom will probably try to feed you until you burst - she's like that with everyone. And my little sister Ruby, she's seven and she's going to have so many questions. She's in that phase where she wants to know everything about everything."

"I can handle questions," Max says confidently, then hesitates. "What kind of questions are we talking about?"

You pretend to think about it. "Oh, you know, probably things like 'How fast have you ever driven?' 'Have you ever crashed?' 'Do you want to marry my sister?'"

Max nearly chokes on air at the last one, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "You're joking, right?"

"About Ruby? Nope, she has absolutely no filter," you laugh, then soften your voice. "But seriously, they're going to love you. Just be yourself - the you I know, not the racing driver everyone else sees."

He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'd love to spend Christmas with your family. I can't wait to meet them." He pauses, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Should I wear my race suit when I meet your dad?"

You swat his arm, laughing. "Don't you dare! He'll actually faint." You settle back against his chest, feeling warm and content. "Thank you for saying yes. It means a lot to me."

"Thank you for asking me," he murmurs into your hair. "I love you."

"I love you too," you respond, smiling as his arms tighten around you. The documentary continues playing, forgotten again as you both start planning for Christmas, trading ideas and jokes about how to break the news to your family.

You're sitting cross-legged on Max's bed while he's in the shower, your phone propped up against a pillow as you FaceTime your family. Your mom's face fills most of the screen, with your dad peering over her shoulder and little Ruby bouncing around trying to get a better view.

"Honey, we can barely see you. The lighting is terrible," your mom critiques, and you adjust your position slightly.

"Better?"

"Much better! Now, what's this important thing you wanted to tell us about Christmas?" Your mom asks, while Ruby shouts "Is it presents?" in the background.

You take a deep breath, trying to contain your smile. "Well, I wanted to let you know that I'm bringing someone with me this year… my boyfriend."

There's an immediate explosion of excitement. Ruby starts jumping up and down, your mom gasps dramatically, and your dad's eyebrows shoot up with interest.

"Finally!" your mom exclaims. "We've been wondering when you'd introduce him. You've been so secretive about this boyfriend of yours."

"What's his name?" Ruby pipes up, her face suddenly taking up half the screen as she pushes closer to the camera. "Is he nice? Does he like Disney movies?"

You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, Rubes, he's very nice. And his name is…" you pause, knowing what's coming. "Max. Max Verstappen."

There's a moment of silence before your dad bursts out laughing. "Good one, sweetheart. Now, what's his real name?"

"I'm serious, Dad. I'm dating Max Verstappen."

Your mom is trying to hold back her laughter now too. "Honey, isn't that the racing driver you and your father are always watching? The one your dad has all those caps and shirts of?"

"Yes, and I'm actually dating him," you insist, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Ruby's face scrunches up in confusion. "The fast car man? From TV?"

"The very same one, Rubes."

Your dad wipes tears from his eyes. "Come on now, what's next? Are you going to tell us you're best friends with Lewis Hamilton too?"

"Dad!" you groan, running a hand over your face. "I'm being serious! We've been dating for almost a year. I'm literally at his place right now!"

"In Monaco?" your dad asks skeptically. "Prove it."

You swing your phone around to show the familiar view of Monaco through the windows, but your dad just shakes his head. "Could be any apartment in Monaco."

"You're impossible!" you huff. "Fine, don't believe me. You'll see at Christmas."

Ruby presses her face closer to the screen again. "Will he bring his race car?"

"No, Rubes, he can't bring the race car," you say, softening your tone for your little sister. "But I promise you'll love him."

After a few more minutes of your family teasing you about your "imaginary Formula 1 driver boyfriend," you end the call with a mix of frustration and amusement. Just as you flop back onto the bed, you hear the bathroom door open and Max walks out, his hair still damp from the shower.

"How'd it go?" he asks, noticing your expression.

You let out a laugh. "They think I'm making you up. They literally don't believe I'm dating you."

Max raises his eyebrows, looking amused as he sits next to you on the bed. "Really?"

"Really. Dad laughed so hard he nearly cried. And Ruby, my little sister, just wants to know if you're bringing your race car for Christmas."

"Sorry to disappoint Ruby," he grins, then looks thoughtful. "You know, maybe we should've waited to tell them in person. The looks on their faces would've been priceless."

"Oh, don't worry," you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck. "They'll still be priceless. Dad's going to lose it when he realizes all those times he was rambling about you during races, he was actually talking about his daughter's boyfriend."

Max laughs, pulling you closer. "What else should I know before meeting them?"

"Well, Ruby's seven and obsessed with Frozen. She'll definitely make you watch it and probably sing along too."

"I can handle that," he says confidently.

"And recite all the lines?"

"…Maybe not that."

"And act out the scenes with her?"

Max's eyes widen slightly. "What have I gotten myself into?"

You kiss his cheek. "Too late to back out now, Verstappen. You're stuck with us."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he murmurs, pulling you in for a proper kiss. "Even if it means playing Olaf the snowman."

"Oh no, you'll definitely be playing Elsa. Ruby's very particular about casting."

The look of horror on his face makes you burst out laughing, and soon he's joining in too. As your laughter dies down, you can't help but think about how perfect this feels - being here with him, planning to spend Christmas with your family, even if they don't believe you yet. You can't wait to see their faces when you show up at their door with Max Verstappen himself.

"Hey," Max says softly, breaking into your thoughts. "What are you smiling about?"

"Just thinking about how Christmas is going to be interesting this year."

"Interesting is one way to put it," he grins. "Should I wear my race suit when we arrive?"

"Don't you dare! Dad will actually faint."

"That's kind of the point," he winks, and you grab a pillow to hit him with, both of you dissolving into laughter again.

"Let me guess, another text from 'Max Verstappen'?" your dad teases from his spot at the kitchen counter, making air quotes with his fingers. He's wearing one of his many Red Bull Racing shirts, completely oblivious to the irony.

"Actually, yes," you reply, rolling your eyes. "He'll be here soon."

Your mom chuckles while peeling potatoes. "Honey, you can just tell us who your boyfriend really is. We won't judge, even if he's not a Formula 1 champion."

"Mom, I've told you a million times-"

"LOOK!" Ruby crashes into the kitchen, pointing at the TV in the living room where they're showing highlights from the last race. "It's YN's boyfriend!" She dissolves into giggles, clearly in on what she thinks is a funny joke.

"Very funny, Rubes," you mutter, but check your phone again when it buzzes.

Max: "Just turned onto your street. Nice neighborhood 😉"

Your heart starts beating faster. "He's here," you announce, heading toward the front door.

"Oh, we're still doing this?" your dad calls after you, amused. "Should I get my Max Verstappen cap for him to sign?"

"Actually, Dad, yes, you should," you shout back, slipping on your boots.

"Sweetie," your mom starts in that gentle voice she uses when she thinks you're being ridiculous, "you don't have to-"

The sound of a car pulling up interrupts her. You open the front door and step out onto the porch, watching as Max's car comes to a stop in your driveway. Your family has crowded behind you in the doorway, probably expecting to catch you in your "lie."

Max steps out of the car, looking unfairly handsome in his dark winter coat and scarf. His face lights up when he sees you, and you don't hesitate to run down the steps toward him.

"Hi," he grins, catching you in a tight hug and lifting you slightly off your feet. "Missed you."

You hear a loud gasp behind you, followed by what sounds like your dad choking on air.

"Missed you too," you murmur against his chest before turning to face your family, keeping one arm wrapped around his waist.

The scene on your front porch is priceless. Your dad's mouth is hanging open, his face pale except for two bright red spots on his cheeks. Your mom has both hands pressed to her face in shock. Ruby is the only one moving, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"IT REALLY IS THE FAST CAR MAN!" she shrieks, breaking the silence as she barrels down the steps toward you both.

Max laughs, crouching down to her level. "Hi Ruby. Nice to finally meet you. Your sister has told me a lot about you."

"You're real!" she exclaims, poking his arm as if to make sure.

"Very real," he confirms, looking thoroughly amused.

"I… you… but…" your dad stammers, still frozen in the doorway.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. LN," Max says, standing back up and guiding you and Ruby toward the porch. "Thank you for having me for Christmas."

Your mom seems to snap out of her shock first. "Oh my goodness, please come in! It's freezing out here. I… oh dear… the potatoes… I should… more food… I need to…"

"Mom, breathe," you laugh, as Max follows you inside.

Your dad hasn't moved an inch, still staring at Max like he's seeing a ghost. "You're… you're actually… the Brazil overtake…"

"Dad, no F1 talk yet!" you warn. "Let him at least get his coat off first."

"Right! Yes! Coat!" your dad says frantically. "I'll take your coat! And then maybe… could you… would you mind signing my…"

"Collection?" you finish for him, smirking. "The one you thought I was making up?"

Max raises his eyebrows at you, remembering your conversation about your dad's merchandise collection.

Ruby tugs on Max's hand. "Do you want to see my Frozen dolls? And can we watch the movie? Sissy said you've never seen it!"

"Ruby, let him settle in first," your mom calls from the kitchen, where she appears to be panic-cooking. "Oh God, is the food good enough? Do Formula 1 drivers have special diets? Should I-"

"Mom, the food will be perfect," you assure her, then turn to Max. "See? I told you they'd be cool about it."

Max tries to suppress his laugh as your dad continues to stare at him in awe, your mom stress-cooks enough food to feed an army, and Ruby continues pulling on his hand.

"Very cool," he agrees, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Though I think your dad might need to sit down."

"I'm fine!" your dad squeaks, then immediately sits down heavily on the nearest chair. "Just… just give me a minute to process that my daughter is actually dating Max Verstappen and I've been accidentally talking about my future son-in-law during every race and-"

"DAD!" you exclaim, feeling your face heat up while Max chuckles beside you.

"What? I'm just saying… all those times I said 'that Verstappen boy would make someone a good husband someday' and it turns out-"

"Okay!" you interrupt loudly. "Who wants coffee? Max, come help me with coffee!"

As you drag a laughing Max toward the kitchen, you hear Ruby start explaining the entire plot of Frozen to him, your mom muttering about needing to buy more food, and your dad still talking to himself about racing statistics.

"Still think this was a good idea?" you whisper to Max.

He pulls you closer, grinning. "The best. Though you might want to tell your dad to breathe before he passes out."

"Can we build a snowman after coffee?" Ruby calls out.

"Only if Max gets to be Elsa!" you shout back, earning you a playful glare from your boyfriend.

Looking around at your slightly chaotic but loving family, and seeing how naturally Max fits into it all, you can't help but smile. This is definitely going to be a Christmas to remember.

The initial chaos has settled into a cozy scene in your living room. You're curled up on the couch next to Max, who has Ruby practically attached to his side. She hasn't stopped talking since everyone sat down, and Max, to his credit, is giving her his complete attention.

"And then Elsa makes this huge ice castle," Ruby explains, using elaborate hand gestures. "Can you drive as fast as Elsa runs up the mountain?"

"Probably faster," Max answers with a grin, making Ruby's eyes widen.

"Even in the snow?"

"Even in the snow."

Your dad, who's finally regained his ability to form complete sentences, sits in his armchair trying very hard not to bombard Max with racing questions. He keeps opening his mouth, then closing it again when you give him a warning look.

"It's okay, Dad," you laugh. "You can ask him one race question. Just one."

Your dad looks like he might cry from happiness. "The overtake in Brazil-"

"Which one?" Max asks with a playful smirk, and your dad launches into an enthusiastic discussion about racing lines and grip levels.

Your mom returns from the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolate and cookies, having finally accepted that she doesn't need to cook enough food for an entire F1 paddock. "Here we go. I hope it's okay, Max. YN mentioned you like hot chocolate."

"It's perfect, thank you," Max says warmly, accepting a mug.

Ruby immediately reaches for a cookie, then pauses. "Do race car drivers eat cookies?"

"Only the fast ones," Max whispers conspiratorially, making her giggle.

"Ruby, give Max some space to breathe," your mom says gently, noticing how your sister is practically in his lap.

"It's fine," Max assures her. "I have nephews. I'm used to it."

Ruby beams at this information. "Really? Do they like Frozen too?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure they'd love to hear your explanation of it," he says, and Ruby launches into another detailed plot summary.

You catch your mom watching the interaction with soft eyes, all her earlier panic forgotten. She meets your gaze and mouths 'He's wonderful' when Ruby isn't looking.

Your dad has moved on from Brazil to discussing tire strategies, but stops himself mid-sentence. "Sorry, I'm probably boring you. You live this stuff."

"Not at all," Max says sincerely. "It's nice talking about it with someone who understands racing. YN usually just tells me to stop being a nerd when I talk about tire compounds."

"Because you spent two hours explaining the difference between C3 and C4 compounds!" you defend yourself.

"It's fascinating stuff," your dad says eagerly, and Max nods in agreement.

"Oh no, there's two of them now," you mutter to your mom, who laughs.

Ruby tugs on Max's sleeve. "Can we watch Frozen now? Please? You promised!"

"Ruby, let Max rest a bit," your mom starts, but Max shakes his head.

"A promise is a promise," he says solemnly to Ruby. "Should we watch it now?"

Ruby squeals with delight, jumping up to get the remote. Your dad looks slightly disappointed that his racing talk is being cut short, but you can see him hiding a smile at Ruby's excitement.

"Fair warning," you whisper to Max as Ruby sets up the movie, "she knows every word. And she will sing along."

"As long as she doesn't expect me to sing," he whispers back.

"MAX!" Ruby calls, patting the spot next to her on the floor where she's arranged pillows. "You have to sit here! It's the best spot!"

Max obliges, settling down next to her while you stay on the couch, exchanging amused looks with your parents as Ruby starts the movie, already mouthing along to the opening music.

Your mom leans over to you. "I'm sorry we didn't believe you," she whispers. "He's lovely. And so good with Ruby."

"I told you," you whisper back, watching as Ruby explains to Max why Elsa has ice powers.

Your dad joins in the whispered conversation. "Think he'd sign my mug collection later?"

"Dad!"

"What? I'm just saying, Christmas cards would be sorted for the next few years…"

You're about to respond when Ruby shushes you all loudly. "This is the best part!"

Max catches your eye and winks, clearly enjoying himself despite being roped into a Disney movie viewing with a very enthusiastic seven-year-old commentator. Your heart swells watching him with your family, how naturally he fits in, how gentle he is with Ruby.

"Do you want to build a snowman?" Ruby starts singing along with the movie.

"Later, Rubes," you promise. "Let's watch the movie first."

She nods seriously, then turns to Max. "Pay attention to this part. It's very important."

"I won't miss a second," he promises, and Ruby beams at him before turning back to the screen.

Your mom reaches over and squeezes your hand, giving you a knowing look. Even your dad has stopped thinking about racing long enough to appreciate the moment – his youngest daughter sharing her favorite movie with your boyfriend, who happens to be the F1 driver he's been fan-boying over for years.

It's perfect, you think, watching your family and Max together. Different from how you imagined telling them, but perfect nonetheless.

"Shh!" Ruby whispers loudly. "Elsa is about to sing Let It Go!"

Max shoots you a slightly panicked look as Ruby starts to stand up, clearly ready to perform the whole number. You just grin and shrug. After all, you did warn him about the singing.

Later that evening, you finally manage to steal a moment alone with Max. Ruby had fallen asleep during the third replay of Frozen, and your parents took her up to bed before retreating to the kitchen to finish some Christmas preparations.

You find Max on the back porch, leaning against the railing and looking up at the stars. The winter air is crisp, and you can see his breath forming little clouds in the darkness. Quietly, you step out and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his back.

"Hey," he says softly, turning in your arms to face you. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer. "Needed a little break from being Elsa?"

You laugh quietly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "You were amazing with Ruby today. I think you're officially her new favorite person."

"She's a sweet kid," he smiles, then adds with a playful glint in his eyes, "Though I didn't expect to watch Frozen two times in one day."

"Just wait until tomorrow. She'll probably want to act it out."

He groans dramatically, but you can see the fondness in his expression. "The things I do for you."

"Mmm, and I appreciate every one of them," you murmur, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly.

Max responds immediately, one hand moving to cup your face while the other pulls you even closer. The kiss is gentle and unhurried, full of unspoken emotions. When you finally pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"For what?"

"For being so perfect with my family. For watching Frozen multiple times. For not running away when my dad started his racing commentary."

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I like your family. Your dad's racing knowledge is impressive, your mom's trying very hard not to mother me to death, and Ruby…" he pauses, smiling. "Ruby reminds me of Victoria at that age."

You snuggle closer, seeking his warmth in the cold air. "I was so nervous about telling them, and then even more nervous when they didn't believe me. But this… this is better than I imagined."

"Even with your dad asking me to sign his entire Red Bull merchandise collection?"

"Hey, at least he waited until after dinner," you laugh. "Though I'm pretty sure he's in there right now planning which items to bring out first."

Max wraps his arms more securely around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I love you," he says quietly, and your heart skips a beat like it does every time he says those words.

"I love you too," you reply, tilting your face up for another kiss.

This one is deeper, more passionate, until you hear the back door creak and quickly step apart.

"Oh!" your mom exclaims, looking flustered. "Sorry, I just… wanted to ask about breakfast preferences… but it can wait… carry on!"

She disappears back inside, and you both burst into quiet laughter.

"We should probably go back in," you sigh, though you make no move to leave his embrace.

"Probably," he agrees, but instead of letting go, he pulls you back for one more kiss. "Five more minutes?"

You smile against his lips. "Five more minutes."

In the quiet of Christmas eve, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but think how perfectly he fits into your life, into your family, into your heart. Tomorrow there'll be more Frozen, more racing talk, more of Ruby's endless questions, but right now, it's just the two of you, and it's everything.

The winter sun is just beginning to peek through the curtains of your childhood bedroom, casting a soft golden glow across the room. You're wrapped in warmth, nestled against Max's chest with his arm draped around your waist. His steady breathing tells you he's awake before he even moves.

"Good morning," he murmurs against your neck, his voice still rough with sleep. His lips brush against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Morning," you whisper back, feeling his hand slowly slide beneath your sleep shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

"Sleep well?" he asks innocently, but his actions are anything but innocent as he presses closer, leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your ear.

"Max," you breathe, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and knowing you should stop. "We can't… my parents…"

"Then we'll have to be very, very quiet," he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. His hand travels higher under your shirt, making your breath hitch.

You turn in his arms, ready to either give in or properly protest - though the way he's looking at you, eyes dark with desire and that signature smirk playing on his lips, makes you lean heavily toward the former.

"You're trouble," you murmur, reaching up to run your fingers through his disheveled hair.

He leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "You love it."

Just as his hand starts to wander again, a voice pierces through the quiet morning:

"IT'S CHRISTMAAAAS!" Ruby's excited scream echoes through the entire house, followed by the thundering of small feet running down the hallway. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! SANTA CAME!"

Max drops his forehead to your shoulder with a frustrated groan. "Your sister has impeccable timing."

"Welcome to Christmas with Ruby," you laugh, pressing a consoling kiss to his cheek. "I tried to warn you."

"YN! MAX!" Ruby's fists pound on your door. "GET UP! There are presents EVERYWHERE! And it SNOWED!"

"Five more minutes, Rubes!" you call back.

"NO MINUTES! NOW!" she insists, continuing to knock. "Mom said breakfast is ready and Dad made hot chocolate and I SAW A HUGE PRESENT WITH MY NAME ON IT!"

Max chuckles against your shoulder. "I suppose we should…"

"PLEASE!" Ruby calls again. "I promise I'll let you drink your coffee first!"

"That's quite the offer from her," you tell Max. "She usually doesn't allow any delays on Christmas morning."

"We're coming, Ruby!" Max calls out, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "Give us two minutes to get dressed."

"TWO MINUTES! I'm counting!"

You can hear her dramatically counting down in the hallway, making Max laugh. "She's serious about this, isn't she?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

The living room is a festival of color and chaos when you finally make it downstairs. Ruby's bouncing by the tree in her Christmas pajamas, while your parents are settled on the couch with steaming mugs of coffee.

"Finally!" Ruby exclaims. "I counted way past two minutes!"

"Sorry, princess," Max says, accepting a coffee mug from your mom. "But I'm here now."

"Max, sweetheart, you really didn't have to get us anything," your mom says, noticing the pile of presents he'd arranged under the tree last night.

"Of course I did," he replies warmly. "It's Christmas."

Ruby's practically vibrating with excitement as your dad starts distributing gifts. "Can I open mine from Max first? Please?"

At your nod, she tears into the elaborate wrapping paper, gasping when she reveals a beautiful wooden chest with golden details. "It's like a treasure chest!"

"Open it," Max encourages, smiling.

Ruby lifts the lid carefully, her eyes widening. Inside is a complete collection of princess dresses, each one a perfect replica from different Disney movies, along with matching accessories and a tiara for each one.

"The chest is magical," Max explains, kneeling beside her. "Every time you open it, there might be a new surprise inside. And look at this…" He reaches in and pulls out a small envelope.

Ruby opens it to find a letter with the Disney castle letterhead. "Dear Princess Ruby," she reads aloud, her voice getting more excited with each word. "You are cordially invited to spend a royal weekend at Disney World, where you will have a private breakfast with all the Disney princesses…"

She doesn't even finish reading before launching herself at Max, nearly knocking him over. "Thank you thank you thank you! Can I try on the Elsa dress right now?"

"After presents," your mom laughs. "Let's see what else Santa brought."

Your dad opens his gift next, finding an envelope that makes him pause. "Son," he says, voice thick with emotion as he reads the contents. "This is…"

"VIP passes to the British Grand Prix," Max confirms. "Including garage access, grid walk, everything."

Your dad has to sit down, clutching the passes like they might disappear. "This is… I can't…"

"And this," Max hands him another package, "is just a little something extra."

Inside is a vintage racing jacket from your dad's favorite driver from the 80s, signed and authenticated. Your dad actually tears up.

Your mom opens her gift next, despite protesting again that Max shouldn't have gotten them anything. She unwraps a beautiful pair of earrings.

"Oh, Max," she whispers, "This is beautiful."

Ruby, who has been surprisingly patient, tugs at Max's sleeve. "Can we do my princess breakfast now?"

"After we finish presents," you laugh. "And maybe we should have real breakfast first?"

"But I'm a princess now," she declares. "Princesses have special breakfast times."

Your mom shakes her head fondly. "How about pancakes fit for a princess?"

"With chocolate chips?" Ruby negotiates.

"With chocolate chips," your mom confirms. "Max, honey, how do you like your pancakes?"

"However they're made is perfect," he assures her, but your mom is already heading to the kitchen, muttering about making sure she has enough chocolate chips.

Your dad finally finds his voice again. "Max, this is too much…"

"It's not," Max says firmly. "You're… you're family now. Or at least, I hope…"

He glances at you meaningfully, making your heart skip a beat.

Later, after pancakes and multiple princess dress changes from Ruby, you manage to steal some time alone with Max in your favorite spot on the back porch. The morning sun has warmed the air slightly, but there's still a crisp winter chill that gives you an excuse to stay close to him.

"Your turn," Max says softly, pulling out a small wrapped box from his pocket.

Your hands tremble slightly as you unwrap it, revealing a velvet jewelry box. Inside is a delicate silver necklace with two intertwined pendants - a heart and a tiny racing helmet.

"Max," you breathe, touching the pendants gently. "It's beautiful."

"Look at the back," he says quietly, his voice carrying a note of nervousness you rarely hear.

You turn the heart over to find an engraving: "You're my biggest victory. -MV"

"I love you," you whisper, pulling him down for a kiss. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if you're the most precious thing in his world.

When you finally part, you hand him your gift - a wrapped box that makes him raise his eyebrows at the weight.

Inside, he finds a handmade scrapbook filled with your personal moments - sneaky paddock kisses, quiet mornings at home, victory celebrations, and candid moments no one else has seen. The final page holds a photo from yesterday - Max on the floor with Ruby, both laughing during their third viewing of Frozen.

"This is…" he starts, voice thick with emotion.

"Wait," you say softly, reaching into your pocket. You pull out a key on a simple keychain. "I thought… maybe… if you wanted…"

"Move in with you?" he finishes, breaking into that brilliant smile that never fails to make your heart race. "Yes. Absolutely yes."

He pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other holds the key carefully.

"MAX!" Ruby's voice carries from inside. "I need help with my Cinderella shoes! And then we have to build a snowman! A FROZEN snowman!"

You both laugh against each other's lips.

"Duty calls, Elsa," you tease.

"Only if you'll be my Olaf," he grins, pressing one more quick kiss to your lips.

"Always," you promise, letting him lead you back inside where Ruby waits, already changed into her third princess dress of the morning.

Your dad catches your eye as you pass, "If you don't marry this boy," he whispers, "I will."

"Dad!"

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, then heads outside to join the snowman-building committee.

Your mom appears at your other side, wrapping an arm around you. "He's right, you know. He's perfect for you."

You lean your head on her shoulder, watching Max let Ruby direct him on where to place the snowman's arms. "I know," you smile. "I know."

"Best Christmas ever?" she asks softly.

Looking at your family, and Max in the middle of it all, belonging there like he's always been part of it - you smile.

"Best Christmas ever," you agree.

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

The Rain is Especially Loud Tonight

Synopsis: The Prefect gets hurt due to Crowley's negligence.

TW: Injury, Stitches, Medical Stuff, Prefect gets caught under a collapsed Ramshackle

Part 1 (here), Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 (coming soon)

Tick Tick Tick Tick

The room would be completely silent were it not for the ticking of the clock on the wall.

The environment was more comfortable than your usual medical setting, but it still felt cold in a way.

The door creaked open and in stepped professor Crewel. "Hey, Pup." His voice lacked its usual stern tone one would hear in the classroom; instead, his voice was gentle and almost hoarse.

The hoarseness was no doubt a result of him screaming at the headmage in a roar you shiver even recalling. He had spent hours tearing into the man for his gross negligence and irresponsibility.

"Pup?" His voice became more worried when you failed to answer.

"Sorry." A meek, rasped voice leaves you throat. Your throat burns with dryness despite the 6 glasses of water you already drank, and it feels like every syllable echoes through your head and causes an intense, throbbing pain. You don't recognize the voice that claws its way out of your throat as your own.

You hear the soft scrape of a chair on the floor next to your bed. "No. Don't apologize, Pup." Rocking your gaze slowly over to him its clear to you, with the way his jaw clenches and unclenches while his eyes search the blanket covering you, that he wants to say something, but isn't sure what.

You slowly rock your head to look forward again. "Everyone's been in such a panic. . .and it's my fault, I-"

The man cuts you off as you choke on your words: "Pup. This is not your fault."

"But-" Your throat feels like its been given a massage with a thousand razor blades. The coughing your attempts to speak cause only make the pain worse.

Crewel quickly grabs another glass of water and holds it up to your lips for you to drink. "But nothing, Pup- Keep those arms down or you'll re-open the wounds. That old building was bound to collapse at some point. We all knew it. If the fault is on anyone it's on us staff. Crowley made you stay there, and we didn't stop him." The glass cup clinks slightly too harshly onto the nightstand as he sets it down.

Silence falls between the two of you.

Tick Tick Tick Tick

The ticking of the clock numbs your thoughts. You force your mind to stop focusing on the pain radiating from every inch of your body and instead listen to the steady ticking of the clock. The only other sound that can be herd is the occasional hurried footsteps outside the door as the other staff do their best to take care of the situation.

Your injuries have already been treated by a specialty team sent from STYX the moment the news got to them. They were the only ones aside from Grim, Leona, and the staff that had seen your mangled form before you were wrapped up like a mummy. You didn't have to ask how bad it was. Seeing Crowley throw up at the sight of you was enough to tell you it was bad.

The STYX team had spent nearly a whole 24 hours stitching you back together like some ragdoll and rearranging the many pieces of you that had been ripped and jostled out of place. If not for them. . .well, you don't want to think about it. If you looked like a mummy on the outside, you were sure that under the bandages you looked like Frankenstein's monster. There really wasn't a single bit of you that got out of that death trap unscathed.

You were kept in the school infirmary instead of being carted off to some high-tech STYX facility only because they needed to operate on you as soon as possible and didn't want to move you too much after the initial procedures. They made do by shipping a ton (literally speaking, more like 3 tons) of medical equipment to the school, most of which was now littered around the infirmary in a rushed yet professional way.

Despite your closeness to your friends, the only people who had come to see you were the staff. It's not that none of your friends wanted to see you, but that they weren't allowed to. The doctor's worried having them in so soon, when they were still full of hysteria from the news, wouldn't be the best idea. They weren't able to text you either as your phone had been crushed in the collapse.

"How's Grim?"

Professor Crewel hums: "Physically, he's pretty unscathed. He just has a few scrapes and bruises. Mentally, he's a bit traumatized."

You supposed that made sense. You didn't remember much, but what you did remember was Grim's voice. He had been returning to the dorm from after school detention when he found the building in shambles on the ground. He called out to you but your lungs were filled with debris and your torso was being crushed by layers of rubble. The dorm ghosts met Grim at the edge of the junk pile that used to be a dorm and confirmed that you were inside and that you needed help. The ghosts talked to you as you laid there, not being able to physically move anything off you themselves. They kept you awake and assured you that Grim was getting help.

Not long later you heard shouting. Two of the ghosts stayed with you while the third went out to meet the staff and fill them in. You were told after the fact that that's about the time they called up Leona to use his unique magic so they could get you out as soon as possible (that was the first time many saw the lion run).

You were blanking in and out of consciousness when they found you, but you remember them finding you. The feeling of the weight of the rubble lessening as it was methodically turned to sand and removed (in order to not end up crushing you with sand instead), the small grains dripping on your face, and eventually, the full force of the pouring rain battering your face as the last of the rubble was removed from above you. You remember Leona's manic eyes turning horrified, Crowley puking, and worst of all, Grim's face.

"STYX sent over a few trauma counselors. There are ones assigned specifically to Leona and Grim as well since they saw some of the worst of it." Crewel finally broke the silence again.

"And you? You and. . .the other teachers were there too. . .and Sam."

"Calm down, Pup. We've all had evaluations done to assess how we're handling it. We'll be fine.

"What about. . ." Your voice trails off, but from the look in your eyes, Crewel can tell what you were about to ask.

"What about the headmage?"

You nod, wincing slightly when the motion disturbs an injury on your neck.

"He's under investigation." Crewel responds after a brief pause. He knew that you surely couldn't be all that fond of the crow, but as you saw it, he was probably also your only ticket home. Crewel looked up to gauge your response, but your face remained neutral.

"And you, Pup? I obviously know you aren't doing particularly well physically right now, but what about mentally?"

"Hm?"

Crewel hesitated, not wanting to dig around in a mental wound and make it worse, "You were. . .under there for a while. I'm sure it must've been. . .scary."

You think for a moment before responding: "Was I really under there that long? It didn't feel like it. . .I think I passed out a few times." Your mumbled words put Crewel at ease in a way. He's not happy that you had been passing out, but he was at least glad that you weren't stuck under there fully conscious and feeling every second tick by as if it were an hour.

"Hmm. I see." Crewel nods. "I ought to let you rest now. A counselor will stop by tomorrow to talk to you about what happened." He stands up as he says this, his knuckles still white from how tightly he'd been gripping the fabric of his pants. "Rest well, Pup."

You simply nod, this time more carefully as to not disturb your wounds, and watch him walk out. When the door closes you swear you hear a choked sob.

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[slapmeshigaraki]

♡ can't get my mind off of possessive!xavier who gets off on seeing you get jealous too

"See, there was no reason to be pouting all night, hm?” You couldn’t help but write against the grip of the man behind you, his rough hand grabbing your face, forcing your eyes to meet his over your shoulder. He almost looked possessed, his normally sweet gaze was different now...soft blue eyes darkened as he looked at you, ravenous.

“Admit it—you were jealous. All that attitude the whole ride home, giving me the silent treatment—fuck—just because I was talking to another girl. You say I’m possessive, but I think you might be worse than me, princess.” He was almost growling into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as his chest pushed you forward, forcing your tits against the sliding glass door that led out to the balcony. The heat from your sensitive nipples and your warm flesh causing the glass to fog up as he pressed you into it. The dim moonlight illuminated his face, eyes staring into your soul as he thrusted himself into you relentlessly. It was as if you were in a trance, mouth hanging open, panties down around your ankles, as Xavier forced himself in and out of your hole at a pace that made you clench around him just right. It was perfect—at least until that oh-so perfect pace was disrupted, the once full feeling suddenly gone as your face was jerked lightly from side to side.

“Unh uh, you don't get to play braindead slut this time. Pay attention—tell me what I wanna hear or I’ll stop.” You were whining now, your body quivering from the unexpected lack of stimulation.

“I was jealous.” You whispered, that same pout you’d worn all night was back on your face again, bottom lip poking out in shame at the confession, wide eyes looking up at the man that was towering over you. Both of your bodies were slick with sweat, chests rising and falling erratically amidst the tension, lips barely an inch apart. You wanted to taste him so bade, to feel the warmth of his tongue sliding in and out of your mouth as he grinded into you—just the though was making your clit ache between your thighs.

“Aw, you were?” Now he was the one to whine, a similar frown painting his face—mocking you. The sinister look in his eyes made even more wetness pool between your legs as he slowly slid himself back inside you, just the tip.

“Its not as fun when you’re not the one making me jealous, huh? Doesn’t feel good to see something that belongs to you with someone else, does it?” he said, reveling in the way you shook under his touch as he slid his fingers across your skin, slowly but surely making his way to that needy little spot hidden between your legs

“N-no…”

“No? But you always tell me it’s silly to be jealous, right? That I’m overreacting. Is that not what you’re doing right now?” His fingers lightly rubbed against your clit, your juices coating his skin as he spread your lips open, being careful not to push you back onto his cock any further.

“In fact, it’s not just silly for you to be jealous. It’s stupid. You are all I think about. I-” another inch slid inside of you, a soft gasp escaping both of your mouths, “Fuck—I dream about your face, your voice, your body—the way this fucking cunt sucks on the tip of my cock just right. We fit together so perfectly…for you to think that I could ever want someone else is just dumb, right?” With that, his hips slammed fully into you, pulling a scream out of your mouth as your eyes rolled back into your head, the nasty words making your cheeks grow hot from embarrassment.

“Xavier, oh my god. Pleaseee…please let me cum. I promise I won’t—“ Your words were abruptly cut off by one of his arms snaking around your body, his palm pushing itself against your plush lips, silencing your begging and muffling your whimpers as his other hand kept toying with your pussy, his fingers petting your just right like he'd done so many times before.

“Shut up. You’re dumb, remember? If you don’t have anything smart to say, then I don’t want to hear you at all.” His muscled arms held you up, keeping your knees from buckling beneath you as he quickened his pace. The most disgusting sounds filled the room, your hole squelching and squealing with every move Xavier made inside of you. His thick cock was forcing the sweetest cries out of your aching cunt, much to his amusement—a small smile creeping across his lips.

“You may be stupid, but this pussy is fucking brilliant. Listen to how nicely she to talks to me, none of that attitude I get from your filthy mouth, huh?” He pressed his palm further against your mouth, silencing your silly little whines and babblings almost entirely, “Shhhh… let me hear her, princess. Be good for me, yeah?.” You tried your best not to have to bite Xavier’s hand just to quieten yourself completely, but he could barely hear your moans any longer anyway—the sounds of his heavy breathing, your ass clapping against him, your little pussy sobbing out for relief was the only song playing in his head any longer.

“Shiittt she’s milking me so good. I think she likes having an audience. What a nasty girl…” An audience? Your face--he was almost sure that the expression alone was going to have him coming within the next two seconds. He couldn’t help but let out a round of laughter at the sight of your eyes widening at his words, brows furrowing as he continued fucking into you, his cock aching more with every thrust. His hand forcing your face forward back towards the glass. You squinted slightly, eyes adjusting to see a window belonging to the apartment across from yours. It was dimly lit, but there was a familiar figure staring back at you, her face contorted in disbelief.

“Getting all mad at me for talking to our new neighbor who was asking me what flavor muffins she should bring over to introduce herself to my sweet girlfriend… tsk.” Horrified, your new neighbor ran in the opposite direction, shielding her eyes from the lewd view of your nipples squished against the glass, mouth covered, a hand between your legs while Xavier held you hostage in his arms, his face flushed, hair glued to his forehead, both of your bodies sticky with each other’s sweat—how fucking filthy it must’ve been. "Doubt we'll be getting that tray of chocolate chip muffins anytime soon, huh baby?" You tried to turn your face away from the glass for the sudden fear that someone else may end up seeing the two of you, but it was no use, Xavier’s grip on your cheeks was far too tight.

“No no no don’t look away. Don’t you want everyone to know who I come home to every night? Don’t you want to show everyone who my good girl is? My sweet princess taking my cock so well, drooling into my hand—you’re mine. Say it.” Your lips were suddenly freed by his palm, a string of saliva glistened between your mouth and his flesh as he pulled it back. You were sure to respond quick, realizing that if you didn’t use your brief liberation wisely, Xavier had every intention of punishing you for the rest of the night.

“Yours I’m yours. I belong to you—please fuck, you feel so good inside of me. I can’t hold it anymore please let me cum.” A strike of lightning rippled through your body as the tip of his cock finally pushed against your g-spot, once, then it was twice, and then a third time—over and over again without rest until your sweet screams flooded his ears once more. You tried to squirm away, fingers reaching back, desperately trying to pull off of you just a little so you could catch your breath, but he was quick to grab you, forcing your arm behind your back, creating an ever deeper arch in your spine.

“Where you running off to? Do you want to cum or not, I’m confused, princess? You pushing me away—does it not feel good?” His lips were against your ear again, tongue running over the shell, gently biting your flesh just the way you liked as he continued abusing your poor aching hole.

“No no so good—feel so good, can’t cum yet though. Please god please.”

“Poor baby, why can’t you cum yet, sweet girl? Is it not enough? Do I need to rub you faster, hm? Pinch this little clit between my fingers—oh look at that, she’s so swollen against my hand. What's the matter, don't you like when I play with you?” You mind was so clouded, tongue hanging out of your mouth as his lips licked and sucked your skin, teeth nipping your neck, leaving his mark as he forced more of those precious begs out of you. You were close, so painfully close that you were drooling at the thought of finally getting to cum around him, painting his fingers with your sweet juices, clenching around his cock as he stretched you around him—but you knew better.

“Need permission to cum please Xavier can I cum. Please please I promise—mmmh—I promise not to get jealous again. I’m yours.”

“Ohh you promise? Maybe you aren’t that dumb after all, baby. Or maybe you’ll just say anything to get me to let you cum. Is that it? Are you a liar, princess?” His fingers stalled between your legs, hips suddenly not snapping forward into you anymore. It wasn't more than a second later that you'd started begging for him to start up again, your body burning to feel him back inside of you once more. He thought you were so cute like this—so pliable, so desperate for his touch you were willing to say anything just to feel him.

“Nooo not lying not—I wouldn’t lie to you. Please don’t stop.”

“Yeah, you telling the truth? You know dumb girls don’t get to cum. But you’re not dumb anymore, right? You my smart girl, princess?”

“Yes yes I’m telling the truth. Smart, I’m gonna be smart, please I just need—“ Every inch of his length sunk back into you at once, warm fingers unexpectedly gliding over your slippery clit again.

“Good girl, that’s what I wanna hear. Cum for me, go ahead. It’s okay princess, let me feel it, please cum on my cock. I know you can do it, so fucking pretty like this. I need it, come on do a good job for me. ” So you came—squirming and writhing in Xavier’s strong arms as he held you close, whispering soft praises in your ear. Curses and moans left your lips, your arm finally going limp in his grasp, thighs squeezing and clamping down around his hand as his fingers flitted against your clit while you slowly came down.

For some reason though, just as you were catching your breath, muscles finally relaxing after the waves of pleasure dissipated and you felt Xavier’s length sliding out of you—your felt him forcing himself back in, pushing your sloppy walls apart again without any warning. He wasn’t trying to fuck you fast anymore, now he was fucking you hard, stretching you open agonizingly slow before sliding back out and and doing it all over again. The overstimulation caught up to you as you realized…he wasn’t close to being done.

“Xavier wait, I’m too sensitive to—oh my god,” You tried to push yourself away with your free hand, but he only ended up grabbing that one and holding it hostage behind your back as well.

“No no I’m not stopping. C’mon that’s not fair is it? Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you have to take care of your things, hm?” You were screaming now, the sensations overwhelming your body as you cried out his name.

“You’re mine, but I am yours. You have to take care of me too, yeah, baby? Please, let me cum for you too, hm? Don’t you want to make me feel good?” he said, pressing a soft kiss into the crook of your neck.

“Mhm wanna make you cum too.” He knew you meant it, despite the way the tears stung the inner corners of your eyes and your soft tummy tightened and convulsed around him, your body falling limp in his arms. He knew that you wanted him to fill you up, to feel his sticky cum dripping out of you has he pulled out, to have his thick fingers stuffing his babies back inside of you. You were so perfect for him—how could he ever want anyone else?

“Aw, that’s my smart girl.”

♡ a/n: ummmm had this idea sitting in the drafts for quite a bit, but the new banner dropping finally inspired me to finish it !! quite short and not super edited but i hope u enjoy,, happy friday angels xx

[st7rnioioss]

omggg can u please do bestfriend chris guiding inexperienced reader through how to give a bj and she ends up doing it on him and is rlly good at it please???

Ꮺ ָ࣪ ۰ ͙ INEXPERIENCED!READER GIVING BSF!CHRIS HEAD FOR THE FIRST TIME

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... oral (m recieving), pulling on hair (kinda?), not proofread!

chris’s knuckles carefully caressed the skin of your cheek, looking down at you with a reassuring, but somewhat playful smile.

“it’ll be fine. come on, i’ll guide you, yeah? no need to worry,” his voice sounded, only making you even more nervous.

you were sat on your knees between his legs, chris sitting in his gamer chair while you nervously fiddled with the strings of his pants, only making chris’s head spin even more.

“but.. but i don’t know what to do. what if i do it wrong? and it doesn’t feel good?” you mewled, looking down at your hands weakly reaching for the waistband of his sweatpants.

“i’ll tell you then, to make sure it does. okay? i promise, it won’t be as scary as you think it is,” he continued to stroke your cheek, before his whole hand cupped your face, making you meet his eyes.

he smiled softly at your somewhat nervous expression, giving your cheek a gentle pat when you hooked your fingers over the waistband.

“okay.. i’ll try then..” your voice was almost a whisper, dragging his pants down to his thighs, staring at the tent in his boxers.

“i-is that..” you mumbled while pointing, before looking back up at chris. “yup. that’s from you baby,” he snickered, while watching you nod and continued to tug on his boxers.

carefully, you pulled his boxers down to pool with his sweatpants, basically staring at his hardening cock.

“come on.. don’t act like you haven’t seen it before,” he chuckled, guiding your face up to look at him instead, his thumbs moving across your cheek.

you knew he was right, but being this close weirdly felt way more.. intimate.

“sorry.. okay, i’ll try..” you nodded slowly, before breaking off the eye contact, clearing your throat in a nervous manner.

gently, you reached out to wrap your hand around his dick, watching the way he almost twitched from the feeling. continuing, you started stroking him up and down, but at a slow pace. chris threw his head back against the chair, eyes shut while letting out a few groans.

taking his reaction as a sign to keep going, your hand sped up its pace, before shuffling closer, your knees digging into the floor.

when your pace faltered, chris looked back down at you, guiding your face closer to him, while the other one made its way into your hair.

you parted your lips just enough to allow your tongue out, leaving short kitty-licks to his tip, a muffled whimper coming from his mouth.

feeling a sense of confidence from his reaction, swirling your tongue around his tip, just to see if that would get the same reaction from him.

“oh- oh god..” his fingers tightened their grip on your hair just slightly, before loosening again, careful not to hurt you or be too rough.

“d-does that feel.. okay?” you quipped, looking up at him through your lashes, carefully twisting your hand around his rock-hard dick.

he nearly came when you spoke and looked up at him like that, so innocent yet doing something so sinful.

he huffed out a laugh, his hand on your cheek tilting your head up while you batted your eyes at him.

“you have no idea.. just keep going, yeah? i’ll let you know..” he spoke softly, guiding you back to his cock.

“okay..” muttered, your hand continuing its previous languid strokes.

he threw his head back again, eyes rolling to the back of his head before they fluttered shut, your tongue reconnecting to his tip, carefully swirling the muscle around his slit like before.

chris had to restrain himself from bucking his hips up, shoving his dick down your throat. but he kept his calm, letting out breathy pants.

looking up at him, watching his expression, you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, carefully attempting to take more of him.

his eyes batted open, nearly spilling his cum down your throat at the sight. you had your eyes on his, those pretty, innocent eyes.

a soft hue of pink dusted across his cheeks, lips parted and open while letting out a choked groan. leisurely you attempting to take more of him, parting your lips further while your tongue ran down the underside of his cock.

“holy fuck. y’sure you’ve never d-done this?” he moaned, both his hands now in your hair, tightening their hold on your locks.

you went to speak, but it came out as muffled babbling, the vibration of your attempted words sending a shiver straight up his spine.

“o-oh, jesus christ,” he whimpered when your lips made their way further down his cock, causing a quiet gag to slip from your lips, drool pooling around his shaft.

chris was near ecstasy, cheeks flushed, a slight layer of sweat beading across his forehead, and his chest heaving while he shut his eyes. he couldn’t look, he couldn’t—unless he wanted to cum on the spot.

he was in disbelief, he almost couldn’t comprehend you’d never done anything close to this. you bobbed your head as much as you could, your hand stroking the part of his cock you couldn’t reach, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes.

“fuuuckk.. feels s’good. k-keep goin’ baby, m’almost there..” his voice was strained, groan after groan spilling from his parted, swollen lips, looking down at you with lidded eyes.

you couldn’t stop the tears from trickling from your waterline, the head of his cock continuously prodding at the back of your throat just barely. his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing some of the tears away.

“oh, don’t cry darling.. its okay,“ he mewled, watching as you pulled back to properly breathe for a moment, your lips still attached to his tip.

“b-baby, i’m gonna cum..” he mumbled when he felt your mouth envelop his cock again, your nails of your free hand digging into his thigh, both his hands stuck in your hair while bucking his hips.

“s-sorry.. you don’t have- have to.. fuck!” he groaned, trying his best to hold back, but it was hard not to. he didn’t want to immediately cum down your throat, in case you didn’t want to.

yet, your tongue ran across the underside of his shaft, his cock twitching in your throat when he let out a particularly loud whimper, listening to the lewd and wet noises of spit, creating a squelching sound.

you wanted to, you could tell you were doing good from his hips bucking up to meet your throat, his fingers entangled in your hair.

“i-i’m gonna cum- oh fuck..” he moaned through gritted teeth, giving your cheek a gentle pat as if to tell you to pull off—which you didn’t.

the back of his head met the chair once more, loosening his grip on your completely when he spilled his cum down your throat while letting out pants of your name.

with a gag, you pulled off his cock, spit pooling down and around his dick, mixing with his own release, your hand still around his shaft.

“oh my god.. that- that.. and you’re sure you’ve never..?” he nearly gasped, short of breath, his hands letting go of your face and hair to rest on his thigh, watching as you let go of his cock.

he watched your face twist in a sort of unpleasant manner while shaking your head, before bringing his hand to you mouth in a cup-like shape.

attentively, you spit his release out in his hand, a nervous chuckle following.

“s-sorry, i didn’t really- i couldn’t..” you rambled, looking back up at him for a moment, your cheeks as pink as his.

he shook it off, his free hand cupping your chin. “don’t worry about it.. c-can’t believe you just did that.” he murmured, giving your chin a gently pat.

“w-was.. was it okay?” you asked quietly, keeping your wide eyes on his. chris let out a laugh, leaving a perplexed look on your face.

“i think we should try again sometime, just to make sure you got the hang of it,” he joked playfully, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader

𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: thank you for the req!! i love this au sm

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