#i’m surprised its even enough to be able to make something out of it since its very unfinished 😭😭💕💕

[tinkerkinkers2]

The Right Decision.

By TinkerKinkers

Based on a true story

“Ugh, where is she…?”

I sat and fidgeted with my phone, desperately hoping it would ding with an update from her. My stomach hit me with another wave of discomfort, reminding me of the desperation of my situation.

As I waited, I thought back on the 12 months prior, and the events that led up to my current predicament. If I had only been more careful… I didn’t know that she was checking my phone after I’d gone to sleep every night. I can’t even imagine the wild things she found on my secret Tumblr account. I just thought she was vanilla, I didn’t think there was any way she’d ever accept the things I only thought about in secret, let alone that she’d want to participate.

But when she came home from work early to surprise me on our one year anniversary, and found me humping a pillow in a thick, full, diaper, everything changed in an instant.

“What’s going on here?!” She said as she stood in our bedroom doorway.

My jaw hit the floor, my stomach met my throat, my ears started ringing. I’m not sure how I didn’t just black out.

“Jake, I’m not going to ask you again, what are you doing? Please explain this to me, RIGHT NOW!”

I don’t even remember those first few minutes or what came out of my mouth, but it must have been mostly gibberish, I just remember how relieved I was when she cut me off.

“Just stop. I’ve seen what you’ve been looking at on your phone, I already know. I just didn’t think this was really something you wanted… I just wish you would have talked to me about this. But here you are, on our anniversary, acting like… I don’t even know.”

She dropped her head into her hands and pulled at her hair, taking a deep breath in.

“Okay, listen to me. We need to talk.” She said, looking up with resolve now. She came and grabbed me by the wrist, pulling me into the living room.

I don’t remember most of the conversation, my nervous system was in full flight mode, but I was somehow glued to the sofa. I wished to be out of my diaper so badly.

“Well if this is what you want, this is what we’re going to do, but it’s going to be by my rules. Got it?” She said, somehow bringing me back into my body.

I didn’t even know what exactly what I was agreeing to, but I swallowed hard enough to finally be able to speak.

“Wait, please, I’m so sorry, you don’t have to do this though, I can stop, I promise!” I said with a tongue that felt like a brick.

“I’ve done enough research to know that that’s unlikely. But I appreciate you saying that. Also, you’ll be calling me ‘Mommy’ until I tell you otherwise. C’mon now.” She snapped back quickly.

With that she led me back into the bedroom…

—————————

“DING” My mind snapped back to the present as I looked down at my phone.

“Hey sweetie! Sorry, work went late today, I’ll be home in 30 minutes or so. How’s your diaper doing little one?”

I furiously texted back; “Mommy! My tummy hurts so bad! Please can I use the potty?!” I was desperate. I knew the rules. I couldn’t ever touch my own diapers. I knew what she would say, but there was so much more at stake today, of all days.

*DING* “Sweetie, you know the rules. Please hold it till I get home. I really do want to have sex with you tonight, especially since it’s our anniversary. But if you mess yourself, that’s definitely not happening. I’m in the car now. See you soon love. Please make the right decision.”

My fingers couldn’t move fast enough, they felt like sticks of concrete against my phone, I knew she was already driving but I had to try;

“Please!!! I don’t think I can make it!”

*Read at 4:33pm*

No response.

I waited. I went upstairs to lay on the bed, hoping to ease some of the pressure in my gut. My tiny penis strained in its cage thinking about her. Every minute drug on for hours. Each wave of pressure in my stomach stronger than the last. It was 4:55pm, and I couldn’t hold it any more. I had a last ditch plan. Maybe if she’s distracted when she gets home she’ll just tell me to jump in the shower and get ready for dinner without even checking my diaper, it wouldn’t have been too far fetched of a scenario, it’s happened a few times before, and we were already cutting it close for our reservation. She would definitely notice if the diaper tapes had been tampered with though, I learned that lesson the hard way. There was no way I was gonna miss my chance to have sex again. It’s been a long and desperate 12 months.

I convinced myself this plan could work. I moved to the floor and squatted in my droopy diaper, I felt a gap between my butt and the soggy padding, a space that I realized was about to be filled. I prayed that the probiotics I’d been taking would minimize the smell, if so, I might have a chance at this plan actually succeeding. My legos were still strewn about on the floor where I was playing earlier, I stepped carefully to avoid the sharp pieces. I grabbed my teddy bear, happy that he still happened to be there for me, holding him somehow gave me some reassurance. Just getting into position started to relieve some of the pressure. I tried to relax and give a slight push. Instantly, it felt like I had released a soft slick submarine into the thick damp diaper around my butt. The padding resisted the push initially but my mess quickly softened and filled every bit of space within my diaper, pushing the padding even further out from my skin. I winced as I felt my shame simultaneously spread from the top of my but to the tip of my cage. Another wave of cramps hit me. I tried to breath through it. I didn’t think my diaper could hold more but I didn’t have a choice at this point, my body gave way and released more soft goo into the back seat of my already full diaper. I finally felt some relief, and exhaled deeply, burying my face further into my teddy bear…

“Oh wow….. well that was quite a show sweetie…” Her voice startled me.

My face flushed instantly at the sound of her, my heart dropped, my ears rang, the false sympathy in her tone lit my face on fire. “Oh no, please no….” I thought, “this can’t be real… How did I not hear the keys in the door?”

“Looks like someone is a stinky boy!” She said with a slightly elevated tone now.

She stepped a few feet inside the doorway and paused, hands on her hips. She saw me still squatting, knees bent, legs apart, hiding my face behind my teddy bear, trying not to move, trying not to worsen the mess I’d already made.

“Uh oh....” Her voice slightly deepening as she slowly walked towards me. I knew she wanted to see my face and make me admit what I did. She never missed an opportunity to turn me all shades of red. As she approached I could feel my pulse intensify. I was ready to say whatever I had to say to get this humiliation over with as quickly as possible. There might still be a chance to be free tonight if I complied.

She gently pushed the stuffy away from my face, taking my chin in her hand, lifting my face to meet hers.

“What happened here sweetie?”She said as she reached her other hand around me to firmly pat my bottom. I cringed and flinched as she used her palm to spread my mess even more. I hoped this would be over soon.

“It, it was an… uuhhh… accident...”

“I can see that baby boy... and smell it too.” She said with a side smile, and wrinkled nose. “Are you sure it was an ‘accident’ though?”

The smirk on her face intensified my shame. She turned and walked a few steps away from me. For a moment I thought my embarrassment was finished, that she’d release me from my stinky shame. But she kneeled down and started clearing some of the legos, making a clear spot on the floor. She lightly patted the spot she’d cleared.

“Do you wanna show me what you were building over here kiddo?” Her smile widening even more.


I was confused, what was she doing? She knows what I did, I needed a diaper change! Why did she care about the stupid legos? The realization of her intentions suddenly hit me and I started to panic a little, as she started walking back towards me. Before I knew it, she held my wrist firmly in her hand and was guiding me over to the spot.

“Come on kiddo! Let’s see what you’ve been building here!” She said as she started to kneel down, my wrist still in her grasp, forcing me to squat. I instinctively dropped to both knees when I was low enough and stabilized myself with the hand that was still holding my teddy.

“Why don’t you sit down and show mommy what you were making huh?”

My ears were ringing, I was so nervous, full panic mode.

“Oh please don’t make me do this!” I thought.

I remember wishing she wasn’t so attractive, I knew she was wearing a low cut top just to drive me even more crazy, and the mini skirt… not much was left to my imagination. I felt my pathetic penis strain against its plastic chastity cage, in spite of my overwhelming shame. By now her smile had turned into a full devilish grin and she was directly in front of me.

“I uhh… I umm… mommy I… mommy can we…”

I couldn’t even form a coherent thought, let alone think of a way to talk myself out of this situation.

“Stop stuttering sweetie, use your words.”

Her eye contact was relentless, I felt like she was looking right through me. It was too much to reciprocate.

“I need a diaper change mommy.” The words dumped out of me, like they came from someone else.

“You’ll get a change when I think you need a change little one, now sit down and show mommy what you’ve been working on mister!”

There was a sternness in her voice now that frightened me a little. I had a feeling she wouldn’t take “no” for an answer, but I had to try, this was just too humiliating to accept, and I knew I’d regret it later if I didn’t at least try something. I began to get off my knees, to get my feet under me, maybe I could stand up and at least distract her.

Before I could fully stand she put her hands on my shoulders and stopped me from getting up any further.

“Sweetie, we’re not going anywhere until you do what I’ve told you to do. Now sit down!”

The tone of her voice was enough to make me realize she was dead serious. Before I could decide for myself how this would happen, I felt her pressing down on my shoulders as I caught myself slightly falling, leaning back on both hands.

My drooping diaper was now inches from the floor, she moved her right hand from my shoulder down to the front of my diaper. In any other situation, I would have expected this to mean some special attention down there, and my hips instinctively thrust into her hand. She responded with a gentle but firm squeeze and pressure, causing my tiny member to throb even harder in its cage, but I realized my bottom was getting closer to the floor as she rubbed me.

She paused just as my diaper made soft contact with the carpet, I whimpered and finally made eye contact while giving my last thrust of resistance, almost as if to say “please no…”

“Shhhh…. it’s okay sweetie, be a good boy for mommy and sit down.” She said as she continued to press down

I wasn’t prepared for what I felt. The mess was much bigger than I thought as it spread even more, slowly outwards towards the front and back of my diaper. Shame washed over me and my face was burning with embarrassment. The thick mush spreading inside was sensory overload, moving into every crevasse of my underside. My tiny penis had now grown to fill all usable space of the already small chastity tube, and was begging for more room. I groaned and whimpered again as mommy’s hand continued to apply pressure to the front of my diaper, which caused me to fully come to rest on my bottom, there was no space in my diaper left uncovered by my mess. I saw the telltale brown stains inside the leg gathers that were now desperately holding on. It felt like I was sitting down but the shifting yuckyness under me made me unsure of my seating.

“Aww there you go baby boy!” She said, her tone finally softening.

I let out a few tears as I brought my teddy up to my face again. Mommy then started to massage where her hand already was on my diaper. She knew I couldn’t help but grind back against her hand in desperation. I heard her giggle a bit, surely relishing in my abject humiliation, which in turn only made me cringe all the more, yet the inner turmoil seemed to only burn hotter as I continued to squirm and thrust.

She moved even closer to me now, I could feel her warmth and smell her perfume, in sharp contrast to my now pungent odor.

She brought her face towards mine as if too kiss me, but shifted and whispered into my ear;

“You are such a good boy sweetie. You made the right decision.”

She kissed my forehead softly before she stood back up. She reached out both hands for me to grasp.

“C’mon up now kiddo! Let’s get another diaper over that one really quick, we don’t wanna be late for dinner!”

[moonstruckme]

hello maeee!! i hope youre well!!

ive been STRUGGLING with higher level classes recently and its absolutely killing me 😭

could you maybe write something about reader who struggles academically (whether it be on certain subjects, procrastination, overworking , etc. is completely up to you!) with poly!marauders/one of the marauders??

sorry if youve already written something like this, this request is a bit self indulgent 😭

-💡

Hi angel, I'm really sorry you've been going through it! Thank you for requesting though, all the best requests are a bit self indulgent ;)

cw: academic stress

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 678 words

James is a patient teacher, and in an effort to repay his kindness you’re really trying to keep your tears from falling. 

You keep your eyes steadfastly on your potions textbook as you flip through it. You’re blinking rapidly, looking for the chapter that contains yet another bit of information you’ve failed to retain, when Remus’ warm hand closes over your shoulder. 

“Careful,” he warns, bringing a steaming mug of coffee around you to set it on one of your closed books. 

“Thank you.” Your relief is immense. You’re the sort of tired that makes your eyes hurt and your brain feel dead, thoroughly worn out by hours of studying. You pick it up and take a sip. Look at your boyfriend in betrayal. “Decaf?” 

Remus gives you a look. “It’s evening, dove. You won’t be able to sleep.” 

“I’ve got some sleeping draught for later.” 

“Ah, substance abuse.” Sirius tosses you a grin from where he’s lounging on his bed, his own homework long since finished. “Must be very dark times.” 

Your face feels suddenly very hot. You turn it down towards your book again, but the quiet splat of a tear dripping off your nose and onto the pages gives you away. 

“Hey, hey.” Sirius sounds immediately panicked. “I’m joking, abuse whatever substances you like.” 

“Angel, what’s wrong?” James’ voice is surprised, but his hand finds your back anyway, rubbing between your shoulders firm and sure. “It’s okay. We’re nearly done.” 

You suck in a breath, hoping to collect yourself but horrified when it only triggers another hiccup of sobs. You put your hands at your hairline, hiding yourself. 

“I’m going to have to sucker punch Slughorn,” Sirius says, sounding mildly horrified at this realization. 

“Dove.” Remus steps in front of you, lifting your chin. “What’s going on? Are you tired, is that it?” 

You nod pathetically, tears carving hot paths down both cheeks. “I just feel s—so stupid,” you whimper. 

Remus’ brows hook in the middle, but it’s James who says, “Hey, why?” 

He thumbs away the wetness from the cheek closest to him, encouraging you to look at him with his hand on your face. His eyes are big and warm behind his glasses. 

“Because you’re having trouble with your homework? That happens to everyone sometimes.” 

You shake your head. “It used to be sometimes. I don’t know what it is, this year—” you stifle another sob “—I feel like I can’t understand anything anymore.” 

Remus sighs. “I think you’re just overworking yourself, sweetheart.” 

You almost want to laugh. “You think this is the result of working too much?” 

“I think that schoolwork is all you’ve been doing lately,” he says patiently. “I understand that you might be having a difficult time with the upper levels this year, but you’re not going to absorb anything new if you don’t take some breaks.” 

“True,” Sirius pitches in. “That invigoration draught you keep under your bed is making you twitchy, babe. You can hardly expect to pay proper attention in class when you’re nearly bouncing out of your seat.” 

Remus’ eyes narrow. “What?” 

“Bollocks.” Sirius makes a face. Sorry, he mouths to you. 

“Let’s go to dinner,” James saves you, closing your textbook and vanishing your coffee with a flick of his wand. “It’ll be good for you to think about other things for a bit, and we’ll finish up when we get back.” 

The prospect of a break relaxes you enough for your tears to abate. James swipes the remainders from your cheeks and pushes at the corner of your lips until you smile halfheartedly. 

Remus hums his approval. “You need to eat something proper,” he says, pinching you sternly under the chin, “and stop trying to usurp your circadian rhythm with potions.” 

“Substance abuse,” Sirius quips, hopping down from his bed to lead the way to the great hall, “best kept for the weekends, as I always say.” 

“Do you always say that?” James wonders aloud. “Seems rather impromptu.” 

“Well, that’s the mark of a good line, Jamesie. It always sounds off the cuff.”

[sageryuri]

NEW YOU, JAKE SIM.

pairing jake sim + afab!reader.

genre fluff, angst, smut.

summary all hell breaks loose when you, the heir to the throne, decides to run away to begin a new life. luckily, you experience a surprise encounter with jake sim, which brings upon freeing adventures and sprouts a taboo relationship between a princess, and a poor criminal.

word count 10.7k (unedited).

warnings i’m sorry for the beomgyu slander 😔, jake refers to reader as princess as much as he can really, suicide mentions, family toxicity, NSFW MINORS DNI!!! (fingering fem!receiving, handjob, oral male!receiving, unprotected sex, light choking), death mentions.

an tis here!! took me awhile but i always prevail. ty for all the support <3

Royalty never lived up to the expectations that outsiders had anticipated. None of the money, gowns and experiences would live up to what those people would always have — complete freedom.

They could travel whenever they desired, do what activities they desired, be with who they desired; ultimately being who they wanted to be. You were stuck on the inside of a kingdom, and despite its tremendous size, it could never live up to the feeling of adventuring outside of the castle walls.

You had been unsure what you had done wrong to deserve something so terrible, but you had been enforced into a marriage that you would never agree to. In fact, they were so enthralled by this marriage, that you were not allowed to leave the premises so you couldn't meet anyone else until you had fallen in love.

Though, you don't think anyone could fall in love with Choi Beomgyu. He was idiotic, vain, rude and every other possible negative adjective you could think of. Even those who matched his asininity would barely be able to cope in his presence.

However, you sense you're the only one who doesn't fall for his 'charms' since everyone else seems to fawn over him whenever he appeared. Of course, you had to be the one who would in be betrothed to him in the end.

You had simply had enough.

As it was, you weren't a fan of your life before the marriage had been finalised. You weren't suited to the position of a queen nor did you want to follow that lifestyle. All that you wanted was the opportunity to be free.

What could be any better than making a plan to run away?

This was probably the fifth ball you had attended this month; you weren't sure why they had them so much, because they all had the same step-by-step procedure as if it was some form of experiment.

You would watch as your parents made their way around, greeting the same people, the same way, as if they hadn't seen each other a week ago. It was comedy-worthy how absolutely fake every single person here had been.

Within minutes of being there, you had already made your way over to the buffet table where your only friend, Julia, had been encouraged (practically scolded by your mother) to stand.

Her mother had been your babysitter as a child since it was rare your parents would find the time to actually spend any moments with you. Julia was the same age, so had grew up alongside you. It was interesting how opposite both of your lives had turned out to be despite being brought up by the same person, just with different blood.

"God, this is just as boring as I'd imagine it to be. Look at them all, it's like a food chain. I'm shocked nobody had cracked yet." You stand next to her, avoiding the gaze of everybody else in the room as you usually would.

"You shouldn't speak that way, you never know who is listening in." Julia had always been nervous when it came to your public conversation, considering she'd likely receive more of a punishment then you would, however, she leans into you more, "I would have to agree though. I could not point out a singular person who genuinely looks interested in their conversation."

"I mean, look at that herd of girls over there. They've been squawking with each other all evening, but I definitely saw Emily pointing fingers at Destiny last week." You nod your head towards the group that stood near the entrance, all chatting with one another as if they wouldn't talk behind each other's backs any other time of day.

Your eyes shift along, expecting to find another group of people to roll your eyes at, instead encountering quite a surprise. There's a servant that you don't quite recognise; brown shaggy hair, the same familiar white uniform that appears to be loose fitting, but seems to still look just right.

Surely, you think, you would have remembered someone like him.

"Julia, do you recognise him? I'm not quite sure he's ever been here before." You ask, she looks in your direction with furrowed brows as she takes in the man that you're looking at. She squints her eyes, thinking, then shakes her head.

He hadn't done anything to imply he was up to something suspicious, but you had a strange feeling about him. Feeling entranced by him, you try to think of a normal excuse so that you could speak with him — but your parents get to you first.

"Darling! Where have you been? We have been looking for you everywhere!" She beams at you, rather fabricated considering her eyes seem to be filled with annoyance since you had been staying distant from her the entire ball.

Unfortunately for you, Beomgyu slides into the conversation with his horrifically flirtatious smile that only forms disgust in your mind. He takes your hand, placing a kiss on it; Julia stifles a laugh when you side-eye her.

"It's nice to see you again, my love." He smirks at you, your mother almost clapping her hands in excitement as she watches, "Care to dance?"

Your mind searches for any excuse to refuse his offer, but your mother's fiery gaze barely gives you the option to think. You hate to be like everyone else in the room, but you give your best smile and place your hand into his.

Considering this would be your last time making your mother happy, you may as well allow it to happen.

The moment you reach your bedroom, you fall into your bed with a long groan. To be expected, the dress and makeup had taken at least an hour to remove, reaching almost one AM by the time you were in your chamber.

Minutes later, Julia wanders in her room for her 'nightly duties' — gossiping with you after a exhausting day. She conforms to you, jumping on your bed as you had.

"You look worn out- well, I'm not surprised after that." When she says that, you know she's referring to the excruciating dance that you had the dishonour (to yourself) of taking part in, "How was that enchanting dance?"

"I'm not sure if he was nervous or it was just natural, but his hands were incredibly sweaty! Normally I wouldn't judge, but surely you wouldn't hold someone's hand for that long when they're practically slipping off." Julia bursts into laughter at your response, tears spilling from her eyes.

You're going to miss Julia. In honesty, she was the only person that could keep you here and you wish you could take her with you. It would be too dangerous and risky, so you would have to give her the best.

"Julia... I was hoping you could help me with something." You take your bottom lip between your teeth and she looks at you expectingly, eyes boring into yours, "I'm really not sure how you will take this thought of mine, but it's truly what I think will be the best. I want to leave, and go far way."

Her mouth opens, no words to be spoken but it is clear she has many things to say.

"I know I should have mentioned my feelings to you earlier, and I am sorry for my selfishness. This is something I need, and I want your help, if you could." You look at her with hope, praying that there was something that she could do for you.

She sighs.

"I know a way that you'll be able to leave, quite easily." She states, she watches as your eyes light up and you become more absorbed in the conversation, "I know that they don't allow you to go into the basement of the castle. It's because there's a passageway through and door that leads through to the outside. It hasn't been used in many years."

In your mind, you recall every time someone had tensed up or began stuttering over their words whenever you got too close to that basement door. It was as if they knew that you had been planning to do something drastic, such as running away.

"How on earth would I get there if they're so cautious about me going in? It doesn't sound too wise." You sit up from your previous position, walking over to your wooden desk to take a seat. Allowing your head to fall into your hands, you question whether this was possible.

"Well... At particular times of the day, the guards leave their stations. Usually during your late dinners, actually- and around 4AM in the morning when they begin preparing for you to awake. If you can get out of the diner tonight, I'll show you." She whispers under her breath at you, just in case anyone had been deciding to listen in at the wrong time.

You have never hugged someone as tightly as you had with Julia. Within minutes, you had gone from having zero idea of how to get to your own paradise to having a knight in shining armour that so happened to be your best friend.

The dinners with your family were the worst part of being a royal; you had to spend an extended amount of time with them. Despite being your blood, they never felt like they were. Realistically, they likely didn't care for you that much, you were created for an alliance.

Even if it hadn't been explicitly stated, there was no doubts that it was the reality.

If you had to admit anything, the dining hall was gorgeous. The walls are as tall as can be, painted portraits and landscapes scattering every wall. Candles are sporadically placed around the room, as well as in the large hanging chandelier.

However, the gigantic table in the centre just made the dinners much more awkward.

"I see you talked with Prince Beomgyu at the last ball. I'm glad the two of you are getting along well." Your father speaks up for the first time during your dinner and to no surprise, it's involving mentions of your 'future' marriage partner.

"Barely..." You mumble under your breath, just loud enough for them to be able to hear, but low enough that they were unable to tell it was intentional.

You needed a reason to be able to leave, since they would never allow you to go to your room when you wanted to. On many occasions, you remember how whenever you argued or became upset, they would just let you to leave so they would't have to acknowledge the needed confrontation.

"Why can't you just be kind to him? He has done nothing but treat you right and you have hardly said one word to him." Your mother places her cutlery down and glares at you, as if you were someone she had become enemies with.

Just one more day.

"Me and all the other women he has been trying to court. I'm going to bed, I'm not hungry anymore." You retort back, standing up and storming your way out of the room. As expected, they don't follow you or say a word.

Quickly, you walk back to your room to see Julia already waiting inside for you, "We have to move fast. We have enough time but I'd rather we get in and out so we don't get caught, if all goes well, you could get out tonight." Julia grins with mixed emotion; ecstatic you're finally getting what you deserve, upset that she'll likely never see you again.

"I don't think I could ever thank you enough, I love you, Julia." You want to give her another tight hug, but there is not enough time in the day. Instead, she pulls you along to take you to the sacred basement floor.

Your heart thumps harshly in your chest as you stand in front of the door. Julia pushes it open slowly to avoid loud creaks and squeaks.

As slow as you can, you walk down the stone stairs that lead down to the basement. It is barely lit, just bright enough to be able to see where you are placing your feet on the stairs. Eventually, you reach a dingy room that is filled with miscellaneous items.

"I... don't see a door anywhere." Your eyebrows furrow as you walk around the room, squinting through the darkness in order to try and find this supposed door. In fact, you don't think you can see any other way out of the basement apart from the door you had entered from.

"It's hidden for a reason, look here." Julia remarks, you turn around to look at where she is standing. She taps her foot onto a particular area of the floor, which appears to sound more hollow than the rest of it.

The floor isn't easy to see, so you get onto your knees in order to touch around, feeling how the stone flooring feels like wood instead. With a large grin, you stand up and hug Julia one last time.

"You go back to your room now so that they don't see you down here, I can think of an excuse for myself if anything happens. It's already unlocked and goes straight out." She pulls back, her hand resting on your cheek, "If this is the last I see of you, I appreciate everything you've done for me. You're my closest friend and I hope I'll get to see you again in the future, much happier than you are now."

When your eyes begin to fill with water, you make your way back up the stairs and towards your bedroom and attempting to look as innocent as possible. Patiently, you watch the hours on the clock go by.

You begin to feel like the moment isn't real; not when it reaches 3AM and your hands are shaking against your door handle. The large door feels more intimidating than usual, as if it had started to grow along with your draining anxiety throughout the waiting process.

Hastily, you move through the many corridors without giving another thought because you may just second guess yourself and decide this was not your smartest idea.

As Julia has reassured you, you didn't bump into any of the royal guards — you realise they aren't the greatest, since they appeared to be nowhere in sight. You likely could have done this months ago when you began considering the idea.

This is the quietest you had ever heard the expanse of the castle to be, if it had been this way all the time, you would have liked it more. Instead, you were stuck with the family talking your ears off every second like nails on a chalk board.

You reach the basement, feeling around on the floor until you find the door again. A proud smile appears on your face when you feel the handle, though as you're pulling it up, someone or something on the other side seems to be opening it too.

"Huh?" You gasp out, almost flinging backwards when the door opens at lightening speed, revealing a very familiar face, "It's you!"

You remember him perfectly, his face was hard to forget. Opposed to his clean appearance when you had seen him at the ball, he looks muckier and he definitely wasn't wearing royal attire this time.

"Who the hell are you?" His expression displays confusion and his voice is almost aggressive, as if he isn't the one coming in from the outside; despite the tone, the thick accent that is diversely different from your own sticks out to you clearly. No one in the area sounded as he did.

"Me? Why on earth are you sneaking into the castle? Do you have a death wish?" You whisper-shout at him, mirroring his distress towards you. He doesn't respond, looking just as baffled as you are, "How long have you been doing this for? God, the security here is dreadful."

Suspecting you had been too loud because the man before you interrupted the original plan, as you had likely done to him, the sound of feet thundering above you caused your stomach to drop and your body to freeze up.

"Shit, shit, shit!" His eyes widen and he examines the room, biting his bottom lip when he can't think of anything. He sighs and puts his attention back on you, "Whatever you're doing, make your decision now or you're dead meat. You're lucky I'm in a good mood today."

He holds his hand out towards you, urging you to take it so he can help you down into the pathways below you. After a mere thought of going back and the sound of banging on the basement door, you close your eyes and take his hand into yours.

The path becomes a blur the faster he pulls you through, but you feel a weight lift of your shoulders the further you are away from that door. Finally, you feel the cold breeze of the outside, a simple experience that you had not truly felt in many months.

You don't think you could explain to another human how incredible you felt in the moment, and with the adrenaline pumping through your body you couldn't feel any better.

Eventually, your running comes to a halt when you're dragged into a run-down cottage hidden behind moss, grown out leaves and grass. It's nothing, minuscule, compared to your old home, but you like it.

Funnily, you had almost forgotten about the man who had saved your skin, now panting with his hands on his knees. He stands straight after a minute or so, looking you in your eyes that are as wide as a deers in front of headlights.

"This, uh, this isn't where I live. I just come here when I finish up my business, which you impolitely interrupted. You want to tell me what you were doing? You seemed pretty desperate to get out of there." He walks over to a desk next to the bed, which was on the verge of falling apart, and pulls out a handkerchief from the open draw.

Even though his own face was covered in dirt and sweat, he makes his way over to you and dabs away at whatever had made its way onto yours. Then, he shoves it into his back pocket before stepping back from you.

"I'd much rather know your name first. You know, you don't make yourself appear very trustworthy being so sneaky." You fold your arms over each other, giving him an accusatory look. In return, he just laughs and you look away so you wouldn't feel hypnotised by his smile.

"You're very feisty. I'm Jake, Jaeyun, whatever you want to call me. Now, you." Now knowing his name, you think that it fits him flawlessly; you wouldn't attach any other name to his pretty face.  There is a chair next to the desk which he pulls out to take a seat on, pointing his hand out towards the bed.

You noticed he had a habit of using gestures instead of his words.

"Well Jake, it's nice to meet you." The bed isn't comfy at all, but you know you should appreciate there is even one in front of you in the first place, "I needed to leave, my parents didn't really put me in the best situation, so I took it upon myself to get out of it before it was too late."

"Well, shit. You're the princess aren't you? You're worth a lot of money, you know." When you don't laugh, eyes somehow becoming even wider than they were previously, he shakes his head while he stands to place a hand on your shoulder, "I'm joking, don't look so terrified. The bed won't be up to your standards, but you're free to sleep and we'll figure something out for you in the morning."

"What about you? Mustn't you sleep?" You question, you still feel uncomfortable sitting on the bed, not wanting to attempt to sleep while he is wide awake near you. Not that you didn't trust him, but it only made you feel more awkward.

"I'll be okay. Don't worry, I'm not going to chuck you out while you're sleeping, you can breathe. And don't be so tense, you can trust me, princess." He grins at you, the light from the lantern made him look ethereal, though your heart still beats fast with conflicted feelings.

The conversation ends there, he turns the chair around the face the desk which was opposite the bed. You aren't sure what he is doing, but you feel better with him looking away. Hesitatingly, you find yourself falling into a light sleep, being awoken by the slightest noise.

You don't sleep very well that night.

The pain in your back is hard to ignore, you aren't so used to having such a springy and old bed. For a second, you expect to see Julia opening up the door to your chamber, but you are instead met with Jake walking back through the rusty door.

"Good morning, princess. I brought you some new clothing back, I imagine that cute nightgown of yours isn't so comfortable for the day." Jake holds up some clothing, what your parents would refer to as 'peasant attire'. You can feel your cheeks heat up since you had forgotten you had left wearing your nightgown in a rush.

"Thank you... for the- for the fresh clothing. I appreciate your kindness." Happily, you take the clothing from his hands. They're warm, as if they had been laid in front of a fireplace for a few hours. The new feeling of warmth after having to be used to the cruel, cold cottage brings you joy.

"No worries, sweetheart. I have a proposition for you when you're ready." You reply silently to him, with a nod of the head, then leave to go into what appears to be a bathroom.

In the mirror, you see what the last day had done to you. There's only specs of dirt left on your face, you imagine it had been significantly worse before Jake had cleared it away. Bags under your eyes show clear, causing you to let out a long sigh.

Having to get used to no longer being pampered and cared for anymore was looking harder than you anticipated. You had barely considered the cons of your actions. After a few moments of processing the past day and making yourself appear more presentable, you leave the bathroom to see Jake waiting for you, reading a book.

"I can take you somewhere that's alot safer than here. It's probably not what you want at the moment, but it's probably the best you're going to get for now." Jake places the book down and diverts his eyes to you. His eyes rack over your body, not in a sexual manner, just to examine the fitting of the clothing.

"Could you tell me what you meant by 'business'? I haven't associated myself with those people for a long time, so I won't get you into any trouble. I don't mean to intrude, but you practically know my story." Anxiously, your hands clasp in front of you and you can't bring yourself to look at him in the eyes yet.

"Well, I guess I'll trust you. Me and my family aren't very well off, if you couldn't tell. It's not east to get jobs, and even the boys who do have jobs barely get a penny." He sighs, you begin to feel bad for asking, "Surprisingly, assigned waiters and waitresses get paid enough for us to afford what we need and I'm nimble enough to get in there and fake the job. I wouldn't have done it without Julia."

Your brain short-circuits and your head shoots up to look at Jake. Confused, he looks between you and the wall at the sudden change in body language, waiting for you to speak.

"Julia? You know Julia? We were close and she never mentioned you, she even acted like she didn't know you when I asked. Did she not trust me?" Your eyebrows furrow as you start to question yourself, and everything that you had experienced.

Jake only grins at your concern and shakes his head in disagreement.

"She was always so cautious, I did tell her not to bring this up, I'm sure she was worried of others listening. She helped me- alot. Wouldn't have done any of this without her.” He reassures you, the two of you decide to end this particular conversation there.

Thinking back to his proposition, you collect whatever you have left of your belongings and place them into a straw bag which had been placed next to the bed. Jake nods towards the door with a barely noticeable smile.

The door opens and you wince at the sun burning into your eyes. It radiates through your skin when you take your first step outside. Your hands grip harder onto the bag as you follow behind Jake to your next stop in your journey.

Neither of you take it upon yourself to start conversations. You don't have a problem with him and he has no issues with you, but it's obvious that there was a silent agreement that you would try and help each other and part ways.

At least that was how you had taken the last few hours. This was a new, blooming path for you, and you couldn't allow anyone to hold you back. No matter how much you may start to enjoy Jake's company, he had a family he cared deeply for and you had places you wanted to go.

After an hour or two, stopping off for the occasional rest, you encounter another cottage. Larger than the last, and taken care of. Flowers grow all around in bright colours, the brick the cottage is made out of being painted a gorgeous beige and darkened smoke peering out of the chimney.

After being at awe at how beautiful you found the cottage to be, you then see two younger boys tending to a garden filled with various fruits and vegetables. They look up, confused by your presence, but their faces light up once they see Jake.

"Jae, You're back! We were starting to get a little worried about you." They both come running towards Jake, diving into his arms as he hugs them closely to his body. You can't help but smile at the love for each other that beams from them — you almost begin to feel jealous.

"I have a come back rate of 100%, I'm invincible at this point, Won." Jake places light kisses on the top of their heads, and then their attention lands on the elephant in the room, you, "Yeah, uh, this is a recent friend of mine."

Once you give your name to his brothers, they seem to put the puzzle pieces together. The taller ones jaw drops while the other's eyebrows fall into anger.

"Sim Jaeyun what the hell have you gotten yourself into! Heeseung is going to be furious!"

Heeseung was in fact furious.

The eldest had spent about twenty minutes stalking around the cottage's main room rebuking Jake for doing something so impulsive, like allowing the runaway princess to take refuge in their home without speaking with the rest of them.

You almost stood up to leave them alone due to feeling rude and awkward, but Jake and his brother’s Jongseong and Riki were adamant on letting you stay since you had nowhere else to go. Somehow, they convinced the rest of them.

Over the month you had been living with the seven boys, something in your mind had switched. In such a short amount of time, all of them had become prominent figures in your life and it felt like you had been there forever.

One thing that you couldn't push through was the different between how you felt about Jake compared to the rest of his brothers. The touches between you both always lingered longer and you would always notice the way he would watch you while Jungwon taught you how to correctly tend to the garden.

It was a quiet day, most of the boys were tired and taking the hours to rest, most of them sleeping apart from Sunoo who silently read a book at the dining table, and you who had been sowing away to a shirt Sunghoon had accidentally ripped.

The constant silence, apart from the sound of pages turning and the fire crackling, was broken by a loud yawn as Jake opens his bedroom door. Sunoo doesn't spare him a glance, but you look up from your needle and thread to give the man a sweet smile.

"Good morning- well, afternoon, princess." He beams, making his way over to you. Both of his hands lay on either side of your shoulders and it takes everything in you not to tense up at the sudden touch.

"What did I say about calling me princess, Jaeyun?" You murmur, still trying to concentrate on the shirt in front of you. Jake's head is now placed upon yours, and you wonder if he's trying to or is blissfully unaware that he's flustering you to the highest degree.

"That I should stop calling you princess- but it suits you so well! And I think you should keep calling me Jaeyun, I like it." He replies, you roll your eyes and give up with your task. Jake moves away from you, so you turn around in your chair to face him.

"I'll think about it." You smirk at him, he opts to sit next to you and lay his head onto the table as if he had still been tired, "I thought you would be sleeping all day."

"Well... I was wondering if you wanted to take a ride in our sailing boat. I could teach you how to use it. It's too warm for me to sleep." He responds, his head being hidden in his arms consequently leaves you unable to see the pink shade that spreads across his cheeks.

"That would be nice, I've always wanted go ride in a boat- my parents never let me do anything." Finishing up, you finally stand from the chair to stretch your legs, cracking your fingers due to the ache in them.

"You can do anything that you want now. They'll always be looking for you, but we can get you far enough that they won't be able to find you." Jake purses his lips, looking away from you before continuing, "Though you’re always welcome to stay here."

"You know that I can't." You hadn't meant to sound so cold.

Jake becomes more and more despondent every time you reject his offer of staying with him. The others boys had grown fond of you, just as he had, you were safe and free from the sickening hold of your biological family.

Alas, you wanted excitement over tranquility.

The lake behind the house could have been the most perfect sight. Somehow, the water had stayed as clean as it could be, you could see the bottom of the shallow areas. What you liked the most was the natural decoration of trees and flowers, moments like this could convince you to stay.

As expected, the boat is still attached to the pier. It was rare they ever used it, often just fishing from the pier itself, but the warm day warranted a little change.

You and Jake walk side by side in a comfortable silence, something the two of you had grew to enjoy. Over years, you had gotten used to constantly being surrounded by noise that the serenity of the cottage on rest days felt strange — you never got rest days.

At first, any kind of silence was uncomfortable, though you hardly realised it had become pleasant.

Jake gets into the boat, holding out his hand to carefully help you in. He leans over to reach for the oars, and you take a seat across from him, "How am I supposed to teach you from all the way over there?"

"Where else am I supposed to go?" You raise an eyebrow at him. He shows off a flirtatious smirk and pats the little area that is left in front of him.

Jake did a brilliant job at making you frantic; you'd never experienced a relationship such as this, apart from Beomgyu, who you would rather never hear of again.

Slowly, you take your seat in front of him, back pressed snugly against his warm chest.

"Hold tight, I'll hold my hands over yours and show you how to do it properly." The two of you seem to be holding hands a lot lately. He tries to hold your hands as daintily as he could to ensure his tight grip wouldn't hurt you, and begins to row, "You're a natural."

"I guess I'm simply just good at everything." You joke, and you finally let the stiffness in your body go, moving with your thoughts to distract yourself, "I wonder how Julia is doing... I feel awful for having to leave her."

You had worried for Julia every single day. There had been no news, at least not that the boys had heard of yet; by now, you expected a large-scale search where guards and soldier would be loitering around every corner, but not one had been seen in the area. You wondered if she was safe.

"You had no choice. I'll always wish her the best, she really did everything she could for me, for us. We had a real hard time last year." He replies, staring off into the distance as he continues to row the boat, you're barely putting in any effort.

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened? Whenever it seems to come in to conversation, everyone gets quiet and moves on." You ask, almost hesitantly.

Parts of you disliked that you allowed your curiosity to get the best of you. It wasn't your business, and a topic they had been evading conversation about since it happened. Though you cared about them, and want to take care of them.

"We were really struggling, the worst it had been. It was like everything that could go wrong, was going wrong. We had no food and we were freezing. There was a lot of pressure on all of us, and I guess Hoon just couldn't take it anymore. I had to jump in to pull him out of the water and I can still remember how hard he had sobbed in my arms."

"Oh Jake, I'm so sorry. None of you deserved that kind of life, you're all so loving and kind. I'm glad you all had each other, I can't imagine what you've been through." At some point, you had moved to turn your body around to face him. You had never been so close to his face before, yet it felt so familiar.

"Without Julia I'm not sure we'd still be here, so fucking up the system was our best choice. I guess I would never have met you either if I never went through with it- and I sure would have regretted that." He grins, and you can't help but return it.

"All of you are so strong, you're amazing, Jaeyun." You remind him, and hope this will be something he and his brothers will always know.

There are continuous shifts in the air whenever you are left together, as if every moment brings you so much closer, but formed a theory that there wasn't a moment where you hadn't known Jake Sim, like he was everlasting in your life.

It’s cut short when Riki comes running down from the cottage, almost tripping over his own feet. His face isn't entirely visible from the length away, but your stomach drops as you sense something is wrong. Just minutes ago, he was fast asleep.

As fast as possible, Jake rows himself back to the pier where Riki is stood, taking deep breaths. He appears bothered by something, and his concerned attention seems to be on you the whole time.

"You guys- you're going to end up in big trouble. Jesus, some guards just turned up at the door, pretty much just as you reached the pier. They didn't recognise you from so far away, we told them that you were going far out and couldn't come back, but they said they'll come back later to talk to you."

You are so, so scared; you can feel your body begin to shake as what you had been anticipating finally happens. It had been so long, that you had started to consider the idea that they swiftly moved on from you. Unfortunately, it could never be so easy.

It didn't take long for you to start sobbing, the original feeling of shock and fear subsiding into anxiety and sadness. Jay has you wrapped in his arms as you shake, everyone has seated themselves down apart from Jake, who aggressively wanders around the room.

"Jaeyun, stand still. You're just making her feel even worse shuffling around the room like that." Heeseung glares at his younger brother, standing up from his seat to walk towards him.

"Yeah? Well what else am I supposed to do? I don't know what the fuck to do!" Jake shouts, not so loud, yet it still makes you jump enough that Jay holds you ever so slightly tighter. Looking over, Jake and Heeseung are standing face to face.

"Stop shouting at me and get your goddamn act together, she needs us, she needs you. You want to help her? Then we need to talk and figure out where we go from here." Heeseung snarls at Jake, who lets out a frustrated groan and nods his head.

This was the first time you had seen them truly upset with each other. It's due to one of your own problems too, which makes you feel entirely responsible even if you hadn't intended to.

"I have to leave."

All of their eyes divert to your direction, even Jay draws back from you a little. They all share the same expression, one you can't quite read in detail, but they are shocked by your statement.

"What? No, no, where on earth would you go? We can figure this out. Don't go until you're ready to move on." Sunghoon states, his thick eyebrows beginning to furrow in concern.

"If I'm not gone by the time they get back, I'm not sure what they would do to you all if they knew I was here. I could never put you all at risky like that- and I would dread to think about the things they would do to me too."

"Are you sure?" Jungwon mumbles begrudgingly, frowning at the thought of you leaving them all. He had grown closest to you, other than Jake, and even though he would never admit it to anyone, he had grown rather attached to your presence.

Simply, you nod your head and hold your bottom lip between your teeth to attempt to avoid any more tears. Sunghoon was right to make a comment on you being ready, because you were far from so.

"I'll come with you." Jake's voice causes you to look at him again, eyes wide and lost. He appears so sure of himself, "I'll get you somewhere far enough that's safe. I can't stay with you, but I can offer as much help as possible. None of us want you out alone."

After a serious talk, heartbreaking goodbyes and reassurance that you will always have a place to be, you and Jake are on your way. He reminds you of another cottage not so long away that the two of you can stop at for the night, similarly to when you had first met.

Jake had been carrying a leather, worn-down rucksack that was filled with miscellaneous items that would keep you going and had been profusely refusing your offers to carry it for a little to give him a break.

There's a constant guilt riding through your body with every moment, and Jake is able to tell, he seems to know you well enough now. He spends his time telling you stories of his youth, his current years, his brothers; beautiful moments to tell you that this is momentary, and all will be well soon enough.

An hour or two walk leads you to the cottage, and it's far from pretty. In fact, you think some of the roof is missing and some of the windows are smashed up. Not the ideal place to stay, but it'll work for now.

"Here, take this, you're freezing." He offers up his jacket, more so forcing it into your hands. He's cold too, but he'd rather be the one to get sick.

"Why are there so many abandoned cottages around here? It's such a waste..." You question after sitting down at a wooden desk chair, your legs recovering from the long walk.

"People like to move around, they'll just up and leave, go to the next town or whatever it is they're doing. Their old homes just get forgotten about, I guess." He shrugs, he's used to them being around, while you were thinking about how lovely it would be to renovate.

It wasn't difficult for you to fall asleep, so exhausted that all it took was closing your eyes.

You never had nightmares; not until tonight.

Everyone you had come to know was there, complaining about how you were an awful friend, daughter, partner, princess. Hearing sharp words from your family was something you had become desensitised to, but Julia and Jake broke your heart.

Jake sees you shuffling in your sleep, making small noises, a concerned expression across your face. He pouts from where he sits, gathering that you were having a bad dream.

Quietly, he makes his way over to you and sits on the opposite side of the bed. He finds himself studying your sleepy face, you were always bright and ignoring a few minor occasions, he never really saw you upset.

He leans forward and pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, he ponders whether he should wake you up, but you're faster than him, shooting up as you frantically look around the room.

"Hey, woah! Breathe princess, you're okay, you're safe." Jake speaks so softly that the tension in your body dissipates immediately, your hand wraps around his for additional comfort and you look him in the eyes.

It feels right.

Jake's free hand moved upwards to rest on your cheek, you nuzzle into his hand happily and close your eyes. A few seconds pass, you decide to look back at Jake, who you hope is feeling just as you do.

When his thumb faintly rubs against your bottom lip, it was as if the subconscious block that had been holding you back snaps. Neither of you are sure who leaned in first, but it didn't matter.

His lips slot perfectly on yours; just like his hands, his arms, every fibre of his being. You feel slightly hesitant due to your lack in experience, though the softness of how Jake holds you tells you everything will be just fine.

He caresses your waist line as his tongue slips into your mouth, and you're sure you could kiss Jake's lips forever. In comparison, you’re gripping onto Jake for dear life, taking an awfully deep breath when you part from each other.

“I’m always going to keep you safe, you and the boys, you are my life. I’ll protect you even if it kills me.” He whispers against your lips, and a stray tear slips down your cheek as you both stay with each other, forgetting about your problems just for a moment.

You hadn't been to another town before since you were a small child, being isolated away from others for such a long time. It's so lively and full of happy people, it makes you think about how quiet it had been at your old home as everyone in town had generally kept to themselves.

"Anywhere you want to go?" Jake asks, his hand still gripping yours tightly. Neither of you decided to mention the previous night, but you both have refused to let go of each other since you fell asleep, and Jake was feeling nauseated at the thought of you getting lost.

You had to admit to being anxious; there was always the chance that someone would recognise you even if they hadn't seen you since you were much younger. Not everyone was a good person, you would end up back at square one.

"I think I'd like to go to the lake, the old lady in the bakery really sold it for me." You hold up the bag that was filled with bread and sweet treats (you had to convince Jake not to steal any of them because the lady was so kind and you had enough money), "It's getting a little late, so I wouldn't mind going to the lake for a little while and then going to the inn."

The sky is filled with vibrant variations of pinks, oranges and yellows as the sun begins to set. It shines beautifully onto the lake as you and Jake walk along the path, content as you both munch on bread and laugh with each other.

Time passes so fast that you don't even realise how long you have been wandering around for, the dark skies soon tiring you out. Your eyes feel heavy, so you suggest going to the inn.

"You are a lovely couple, how long have you been together?" The woman behind the counter asks, grinning at your closeness as she takes the money from Jake's hands.

"Our whole lives, miss." Jake says, as if it has been a normal everyday saying. Of course, you become embarrassed and hide behind Jake's arm and the elderly woman coos at you as she passes along the key.

The air feels strange once you and Jake are laid in the bed together. Even though you are so far apart from one another, it's like the heat of his body is still reflecting onto yours. Whatever you feel in your body, you know it is unfamiliar to you.

You bite your bottom lip in hesitance. Taking a deep breath, you turn around to face Jake. To your surprise, he had already been facing you with his eyes open, watching you.

"You can't sleep either?" He asks, his voice becoming raspy from the lack of speaking. Even though the room is so dark, he manages to look just as gorgeous as usual, even with such tired eyes.

"I'm thinking." You reply quietly, Jake nudges further so that he is closer to you.

"What are you thinking about?" He takes his hand, moving a stray hair behind your ear, hand now resting softly on your cheek.

When you don't answer, Jake's hand is quick to travel to the back of your head as he slams his own lips against yours. Your own hand makes its way into his hair, tugging lightly as your body shakes in anticipation when he lets out a low groan against you.

You clamber onto his lap, wanting to feel as close to him as was humanly possible. The emotions and hormones running through your body became so overwhelming that you could only let out whiny whimpers on his mouth.

His hand moves between your thighs, playing with your little clit in excitement, allowing you to grind against his veiny hand. He messes with you through your underwear, soon moving it to the side with a long groan. A long string of saliva links the two of you, Jake's jaw dropping as he looks at you.

"Didn't take you long to get so wet, you wanted me for that long, honey?" His voice drops octaves, his irises filled with a concept you could hardly comprehend; but you have never felt so much pleasure, "Can't believe I waited this long to see how pretty you look withering on top of me."

"Jake!" You grip at his arm, nails practically digging into his skin, hips moving faster and faster as you feel the intense butterflies in your stomach. Tears brim your eyes as you experience the new feeling, almost bursting as your slick covers Jake's hand.

He can barely take in the situation himself. He's hardly done anything and your eyes are already welling up and he just knows drool is going to start dripping from your swollen lips soon enough. Jake pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean.

"Off, too hot. Yours too." You start to pull at Jake's shirt, he rips your nightgown from your body, leaving you with the thin material of your underwear. Before you could think, his arm wrapped around your back to pull you into him, taking your left breast into his mouth.

His other hand reaches to wrap perfectly around the other, harshly nipping to get a squeal out of you, he slots himself comfortably between your legs, pressing you against his hardening cock. The man underneath you bites his lip hard, lifting up his hips into your core.

"Fuck, fuck baby, just like that." His eyes and hands are still concentrated on your chest, completely hypnotised by their feel and appearance. Jake is absolutely enamoured, and you're already cock-drunk before he's even gotten inside of you.

But it still just isn't enough.

When you lift yourself up and reach down to palm his length through his pants, Jake is sure his eyes roll to the back of his head. He could feel

the fire emits from you, from inside you, from every touch you gifted to his body. You're so desperate, and he's ready to give you anything you desire.

"Can I..." You whimper out, reaching over to the low waistband of his pants. Looking at your face, Jake doesn't want to rip his eyes away. Your own eyes are blown out and your pretty skin is begin to sweat, your hair managing to fall flawlessly in place like you weren't jumping his bones.

"You can do anything you want to me, baby. I'm all yours." He whispers into your ear, nibbling slightly at the lobe. Swiftly, you finally pull at his pants and he lifts up so that you can remove them completely.

It stands tall, wet and red, you can't help but wrap your hands around it. However, not wanting to make a mistake, you give him your best doe eyes to ask for help.

"It's okay, princess. Just move your hand up and down, just like that- fuck." You move your hand up and down slowly, keeping eye contact with Jake, whose eyes are beginning to close from the building pleasure, "Such a good girl f’me.”

Suddenly, you're sliding yourself down his body, your face against his chest as your back arches deliciously. Your tongue lands directly on the slit of his tip, Jake moans loudly and grips onto your hair.

He tried his best not to buck his hips upwards, though he gets even more turned on at your inherent skill to take him in your mouth with ease, the tiny tears in your eyes only make him even more feral.

Your smaller hands are moving nicely on his cock along with your gummy mouth and just the sight of you has him on the edge; a lethal combination. Not wanting to let go just yet, he gently lifts you from him with a dazed smile at your sudden concerned face.

"It's okay, baby- you're doing so, so well for me. Just want us to be able to cum at the same time, hm?" He's quick to model you into the position he wants, you on your back facing him, legs over his shoulders so he can see your fucked out, cute face, “Tell me when you want me to move, okay?”

Then, he pushes himself into you.

You expected it to sting at first, your nails digging and scratching against Jake who just takes it. He waits, albeit the ache he feels in his stomach, until you give him the green light to start moving.

"Go, please." You squeak out, and he does as his lady requests. Still hurting ever so slightly, but with every move comes a larger wave of pleasure. He's almost sure he'll have to slap a hand over your mouth or kiss you so you don't get kicked out, "Oh my god!"

"So fucking tight. My pretty girl, all this for me." Jake stutters out against your neck, sucking at it while your hand rummage around his body, his hair, dragging your nails against his back as he ravages you.

Embarrassment fills you as Jake examines your face and body below him. You try to turn your head, but he immediately raises his hand to grab you by the chin and force you to look back, then his hand makes its way right around your throat in a light choke, "Look at me, honey."

It’s such an intimate moment, both of you finally together as one, only seeing each other and nothing else in the world. He’s holding your cheek while his other hand wraps around your throat and you’re all other the place.

You reach your peak, convulsing so hard and desperate. Jake’s eyebrows furrow harder, hips faltering as he climaxes too, you feel the spurts fill you to the brim, close to bringing another orgasm out of you.

Ears ringing, he lies on top of you though trying his best not to put all of his weight down on your current fragile body. He strokes the top of your head, and you ask him to stay inside of you until you fall asleep.

The alarm of the bright sun shining through the sheer white curtains has you waking up as soon as it hits your skin. You grab the sheets and hike them up your body, still naked after immediately passing out last night. However, it seems like Jake had cleaned you up before you awoke, no longer covered in sweat and cum.

Eyes closing again, you turn your body around and feel onto the other side of the bed for your lover, but only gripping onto empty sheets. You furrow your eyebrows and pout your lips, sitting up and looking around the room.

There is light sparkling from the gap under the bathroom door, you make the assumption he mist be in there, "Jaeyun? Are you in the bathroom?"

After a second or two, the door opens and there stands a half naked Jake, his lean torso and shoulders on full display for you. He grins as his eyes scan down your bare body, spending significantly more time on your tits.

"Now what a lovely sight this is first thing in the morning." He laughs, pressing soft kisses along the dark splotches on your neck. You roll your eyes with a smile, pushing him away a little so you could pick up your day clothing to get changed, "You could just stay like that for a few more hours, I'm not complaining."

"You're suddenly so perverted, have you been hiding this from me the whole time?" You ask jokingly, leaning against the doorway in all your naked glory. He looks at you like he has never seen anything as perfect, how he just can’t look away from you; the glint in them somehow tells you that it isn’t just lust in his eyes.

He doesn’t answer, shaking his head with a bite of his lip. Closing the bathroom door, you look at yourself in the mirror while you change, noticing the new glow in your skin — you’re sure there is a myriad of reasons why.

There’s a knock on the door to the room. strange, you think, but you imagine it may be someone complaining about the loud noises and squeaks throughout the night, so you finish putting your shirt on.

As your hand lands on the handle, Jake shouts.

“Get your fucking hands off me! She isn’t in here you, assholes! Who the fuck do you think you are?!” He’s angry at whoever was at the door, the mention of a she makes you shake and back away from the door.

You search for a window, anywhere that could get you out — but the thought of leaving Jake out there broke your heart and you would rather get hurt helping him than leaving all alone.

Before you can even come down to a decision between your two options, the bathroom door bursts open, wooden panels and metal flying around the room. You could recognise the clanky soldier attire of your family anywhere, them staring you down with violent glares.

Having nowhere to go, Jake nowhere in sight, your only option is to follow their instructions.

Standing before your parents, hands handcuffed behind your back, may have been the strangest occurrence you had the glory of experiencing in your life. Their angry faces dawned on you that you had royally fucked up and should have thought about being more sneaky instead of trying to live out your romance dreams.

"You are a disgrace to this family." Your mother spits at you, staring right into your eyes with pure disgust, no remorse for what she had done to you your whole life.

"I'm the disgrace? You tried to force your only daughter into a whole marriage with a man she couldn't stand to be around. You never cared about me, I'm only here to carry on your shitty legacy." You watch as your father's lips press into a thin line at your words, his hands rub at the bridge of his nose.

"You're completely delusional. The marriage will go on and that awful man you had stuck yourself to will be hanged for his crimes." His words are like poison venom, your knees bucking in shock.

Jake would be hanged because you had feelings for him, those were the crimes in your family's mind; their biggest fear as they locked you into a marriage destined to be because it was uncontaminated by a non-royal.

"What- no, no, no! Please, please let him go. I'll marry Beomgyu, I'll do anything, just please don't hurt him. He has a family, he did nothing wrong." You beg hard, almost wanting to drop to your knees with praying hands so they would listen to your requests just this singular time.

"We can't let a man of his kind go, they'll simply have to suffer." She dusts off her hands, standing up from her undeserved throne, "Don't think we forgot about how Julia betrayed us too."

"You're all fucking sick, you're sick in the head!" You scream at the top of your lungs, throat burning and your vision becoming unclear as you are dragged away back to your bedroom.

You spend your next few days with puffy eyes, overthinking every moment. It had been the day of your marriage, a day that you would remember forever but for the wrong reasons. Julia and Jake had still been alive since your torturous parents thought it would be a splendid idea for them to watch.

"You look gorgeous, I'm sorry that this day is not going as you desire, I wish this could be much different." Julia's mother had been the woman to adjust your dress. It was easy to see the sadness and distress in her eyes and you could barely imagine how she must be feeling in the moment.

"Thank you. I'm sorry about Julia." You wince as she tightens the corset.

"There isn't much I can do about that anymore. I tried my best, and it only seemed to make things worse." She comes around to your front, smiling so bittersweetly that it hurts you.

No matter how beautiful the reception is, it just appears revolting to you. Especially when you see Beomgyu waiting at the alter for you, everyone smiling at you like you should be happy and Jake and Julia sat right at the front, handcuffed up with guards on either side of them.

Your father holds on to your arm as you walk down the aisle and it makes you want to throw up on the expensive carpet. When you reach the front, you're practically pushed into Beomgyu's arms and the audience, since it's for show, laughs.

You look at Jake and Julia, them both sharing the same facial expression as you had. Seeing Jake in this light broke your heart and if you weren't in such an awful predicament, you would have ran to him.

"Any objections?" The priests asks before he begins and you have to peel your eyes away from Jake who looks like he hasn't slept in days and is on the verge of tears.

"I object!" Everyone's head turns in awe at the disturbance. You have to rub your eyes to make sure you're seeing things correctly because Riki is standing up on top of one of the further back pews, "I think this place has some decoration."

A sizzling sound is heard from the corner of the building; then the whole left side releases a large explosion that causes the building to begin to fall. With no thought, you start to run towards the exit, alerting Jake and Julia to join you, ripping your dress in the process.

Beomgyu latches onto your arm.

"Let go of me. They’re all I have left." You attempt to say sternly, but your voice trembles as you look between him and the exit. This was your last chance and he was trying to take it away from you. You’re struggling to drag yourself away from him- but he just releases you and turns to leave himself.

Jake, Julia and Riki, even Jay who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, follow suit.

"What the fuck! Where the hell did you get explosives from you psychos!" Jake shouts with an energetic laugh, still running with his hands cuffed — you would have to figure out how to get him out of those once you were all safe.

"I don't know! Sunghoon said he knew some people!" Jay responds, chuckling back at his brother.

You're back at your real home in no time, but you know you'll have to do something about the corrupted royals at some point in time. They could have easily recognised Riki and come back for a less peaceful visit.

"How did you know what was happening?" Julia interrogates the boys, rubbing her wrists to relieve them of the pain from being locked in cuffs for so long.

"They have a weird habit of releasing all information to the public. Heeseung had a feeling that something was wrong and made a visit, luckily was the same day they announced you and had Jake hostage.” Sunoo shrugs, “Sunghoon came back with explosives and still won’t tell us where he got them from.”

"Well, what do we do now?" Jake asks, his arms still holding you protectively. Everyone stays silent, but you know you’ll figure it out together.

Years pass and they never bother you again and you would all laugh that Sunghoon’s mystery explosives must have really made them jump.

Most of the boys had moved on with their lives; Jake found Heeseung and Julia making out in the kitchen one day after a hidden relationship, then the two of them moved out into a new town a little while later to start a family. Jay and Sunghoon found well-paying jobs on travels and would come to visit every moment they could.

The three younger boys stayed back, while you and Jake built up the cottage where you revealed your love for one another to live your own lives.

You smile widely as you examine your growing belly with the new life growing inside of it, Jake watches you lovingly from his desk chair where he writes up his notes for work.

His baby, his pretty girl; you who once stood as royalty lived a simply happy life and Jake finding what he was looking for in the end.

I’d say that deserves a happily ever after.

taglist ; @slutforsjy @jaklvbub @whiskrv @mixtapejimin @zyvlxqht @saintriots @yohanabanana @jentlecoeur @belowbun @meujaeyun @capri-cuntz @greyminyoon1 @river-demon-slayer

[cookiescribble]

Choose Me, Love Me

A/N: oops got a little more angsty than usual ��� i had this in my head for a while and finally was able to write it, so I hope it came out well! (also I have no idea how guns work but i’m just going to pretend that i do for the sake of the plot 😅) - mod angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your temper runs high after a miscommunication during a case, making you feel like your relationship is in trouble. (based on 1x18)

CW: angst (that gets resolved), anxiety, jealousy.

~~~

It had been a long day. 

You came to check on Spencer when you had a lull in your schedule, since you knew he was the only one in charge of watching the victim. You figured he might be having a hard time with babysitting duty. 

Instead, you came in to find the house completely empty. This immediately gave you an uneasy feeling, so you took out your gun as a precaution. It was currently loaded with blanks, since you didn’t want to shoot the victim as a knee-jerk reaction if you were surprised. 

You cautiously walked through the house, a feeling of dread creeping through you. Eventually, you found the backyard doors wide open, and you approached them tentatively. You saw movement in the pool, but you didn’t have time to feel relieved that everyone was alive and safe. 

You saw Spencer, in the pool, being pulled in by his tie, looking like he was about to kiss the woman he was in charge of protecting. 

You felt a surge of emotions so intense you couldn’t even identify all of them; anger? Jealousy? Resentment? Anguish? Heartache? Whatever you were feeling, it wasn’t good. 

You couldn’t even rationalize yourself before acting; it was almost as if your body was moving on its own, since your mind was overloaded with emotions. Suddenly you were pulling out your gun, shooting a blank right at the edge of the pool, away from the both of them but close enough to make them jump. 

They practically jumped out of their skin in fright, probably thinking the unsub had come while they weren’t paying attention. They turned to look at you, your gun still pointed at the pool. A mix of confusion and annoyance was on the girl’s face, but Spencer looked practically petrified, his eyes wide and remorseful. 

You looked at both of them before you spoke, spitting out venom with each word because of how angry you were at that moment. “You’re lucky the unsub isn’t here. You would both be dead before you could even react.” With that, you just turned to walk away, striding back into the house. 

You heard Spencer calling your name, his voice strained and emotional. You didn’t turn back to look at him. You couldn’t. You had to hold your breath to stop yourself from sobbing. 

You heard Derek and Elle approaching from outside the yard, saying something about finding paparazzi taking pictures in the bushes. You heard their voices quickly getting quieter and quieter as you were angrily striding away, but you could still hear their confusion. 

“What’s wrong with her?” You heard Elle ask. “What the hell did you do? She’s pissed.”

You heard footsteps starting to follow you before they were cut off, and you could picture Derek putting a hand on Spencer’s chest when he said. “Kid, I know you don’t know women that well, so let me tell you: do not follow her right now.”

“But-“ Spencer’s voice came out shaky, agonized. “I have to talk to her-“

“No, you don’t,” Derek cut him off. “Not right now. You’re only going to make things worse. You can’t rationalize your way through that kind of anger.”

You guessed his words got through to Spencer, since you didn’t hear anyone following you after that. 

You strode through the house until you reached the car you drove here in, getting in the driver’s seat and slamming the door behind you. You ran a shaky hand through your hair, trying to calm yourself before hitting your hands once against the steering wheel. You put your head in your hands, biting your tongue to keep yourself from yelling. You couldn’t even cry; all your thoughts were jumbled in your head, your heart thrumming so hard in your chest you thought it was going to burst out of it. 

You sat in that purgatory of emotions, sometimes letting out tearless sobs, wanting to scream but having the slightest self control and just containing the sound to sobs. After what felt like a very long time, you heard your cell phone go off, indicating you have a text. You pulled it out of your pocket and looked at the screen:

HOTCH: Come to the station. Now. 

You huffed, throwing your phone in the passenger seat before starting the car. I guess word got back to Hotch already, you thought. 

You tried to compose yourself on the drive back to the station, attempting to figure out some kind of excuse for why you shouldn’t be fired. Hopefully you didn’t have to resort to begging. 

You walked through the station, trying to keep an even pace and a level head. But every time you remembered what you saw, you were filled with anger all over again. By the time you got to the door, your emotions were at a loud simmer. 

Hotch was sitting at a table in a closed off room, looking up at you as you walked in, his face as stoic as always. He gestured to a chair across the table from him. “Sit.”

You closed the door behind you, swallowing and taking a deep breath. This felt like being called into the principal’s office and being grounded by your parents at the same time. 

You took your seat across from Hotch, crossing your legs, trying to compose yourself as he spoke directly. “Care to explain yourself?”

You gritted your teeth as you remembered what happened, the anger making your blood boil all over again. “I went to check out the situation. They were being careless, so I wanted to show them that they needed to be more careful.” You tried your best to keep your voice level, but there was still a hint of animosity. 

“They were being careless?” He raised an eyebrow at you, his voice stern. “You don’t think firing a gun that close to an agent and a victim is just as, if not more, careless?”

You flared your nostrils, angry and ashamed all at once. “I fired a blank-“

“And that’s the only reason  why you’re not fired right now,” he cut you off. “I should be writing a termination letter right now, and I would be if there were real bullets in that gun.” 

You huffed, crossing your arms. “They were out in the open while the unsub, who I don’t think I have to mention has been shooting people in the head, was out looking for the victim. I was trying to protect them.”

He looked at you the whole time you spoke, boring holes into your face. You didn’t even think he blinked this whole time. 

His voice was still stern, but it was now a bit quieter. “Really? Are you sure this is about the safety of the victim, and not your personal relationship?”

You let out a frustrated breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. The team had recently found out about your relationship with Spencer, so there was no avoiding this question. “No,” you lied. “It’s not personal. All professional.” There was no point in lying; he’d be able to see right through you. But you couldn’t admit to your boss that you were tempted to shoot a victim because she put her hands on your boyfriend. 

Hotch’s expression never changed, but you could tell he didn’t believe you. “I don’t want you out in the field for the rest of this case.” He held out his hand, and he didn’t have to say anything for you to know he was asking you to give him your gun. 

You reached for your holster and placed the gun in his hand, more forcefully than you should’ve. “Can I go now?”

He started to stand up, but spoke sternly before he did. “This is a job that cannot let actions be clouded by personal feelings. Your judgment needs to be impartial and professional, and not dictated by emotions. Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded curtly, letting out a deep breath before replying, “Crystal.”

He nodded back at you, standing up and motioning towards the door. “We’ll talk more about this later.”

You walked out the door, rubbing your face with your hands, the stress from the day making your whole body tense. 

You started to walk towards the exit when you heard a voice addressing you. “So, how screwed are you?”

You looked over to see Elle, who probably eavesdropped on most, if not all, of the conversation. You sighed, shaking your head. “Well, I still have a job. That’s about the only good thing that has happened today.”

She leaned on the wall, crossing her arms. “Why’d you do that? What happened?”

You buried your face in your hand, feeling the surge of anger again. You didn’t even try to hide it this time. “I went to the house because I figured Spence could use some help, or at least some company. But when I got there, that… that…” You bit your tongue, stopping yourself from calling her every bad name you could think of. “She was all over him, and if I didn’t do something she would’ve kissed him.” You sucked in a breath, feeling like tears were going to start coming if you didn’t hold your breath. 

She nodded, waiting for you to finish before speaking. “And? Would it really be the end of the world if that happened? Just a little kiss?”

You crossed your arms, your nails digging into your skin. “I just… I couldn’t let it happen. She’s this gorgeous Hollywood model, actress, whatever. If she’s interested in him, why would he want to be with me?” A sob escaped your lips involuntarily as you admit what’s been in the back of your head this whole time. “And I really don’t want that to happen, because… I love him.”

“Have you told him that?” She asked, her voice light but serious. 

You paused before shaking your head. Your relationship with Spencer was still relatively new, and you hadn’t exchanged “I love you”s yet, even though you felt it every time you looked at him

“I think it’s time you do, then,” she replied. “If it’s this important to you.”

You just nodded, knowing she was right. You wanted to tell him for a while now, but you were scared. Scared of your own feelings, of his potential reaction… everything. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I… have to go back to the hotel. I’m gonna take some time alone to think.”

She waved you off, nodding, and you finally walked back to your car, knowing you needed to sort this all out in your head. 

…

You were lying down on the hotel bed, alone with your thoughts all day, and you hadn’t heard anything about the case from anybody. You hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten when you heard a soft, familiar knock on the door. 

You held your breath, hoping that he would go away if you didn’t answer. You sat in darkness for a while, ignoring when he asked to come in. Finally, you heard a click in the door and you cursed silently, forgetting you had given Spencer a key to your room when you got here. 

You couldn’t look at him, opting instead to look at the wall opposite him. His footsteps were slow and careful, as if he were approaching a rabid animal. “… Please,” he started, his voice quiet and meek. “Just let me explain what happened today.”

You crossed your arms, still looking away from him. You knew he was making those big, pleading eyes at you, and you wouldn’t be able to handle seeing that right now. You kept silent, but you didn’t make him leave. 

He saw that as a good sign, and approached you, sitting at the edge of the other side of the bed. “Listen, nothing happened between us.” He spoke quietly, his voice level but sincere. “I didn’t know what was happening. I was panicking, trying to think of how to politely turn her down, but everything was happening so fast and I…” He trailed off, taking a deep breath. “… I messed up. I admit that. But I didn’t mean to.”

You listened to his voice, which somehow still sounded like music to your ears even though his words were filled with remorse. You just stayed still, taking everything in, not trusting yourself enough to try to respond. 

He tried to move into your line of sight, standing in front of you, but you kept your head down. 

“… I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I’m so sorry. You have every right to be angry with me, just…” His tone was so dejected, and you could tell he was truly pouring his heart out. “… Please, look at me.”

You took a deep breath, slowly picking your head up and meeting his eyes. He was making the exact face you expected, his big, sad eyes silently begging you to say something. 

You tried to search for any words to say, but they all got caught in your throat. Your lip started to quiver as a tear finally fell from your eye. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath. “I…” you started, shaking your head as if that would put all your thoughts in order. “I don’t…”

You opened your eyes to look at him again, and you could feel all your anger crumbling, disappearing all at once. Which only made it feel worse. His somber eyes made your heart ache, and you just couldn’t be the cause of them anymore. After a pause, you patted the seat next to you, and he moved to you immediately, like a puppy commanded to sit. 

You took a deep breath, looking down. “… I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, obviously. I was way over the line.” You wrung your hands together, staring at them as if they were the most interesting scenery right now. “I just, seeing you with her… I felt like all my fears were coming true. That you wanted someone else… someone better than me.” Tears started rolling down your cheeks now. “I know I’m not as pretty as her, and I thought, why would you ever want me if someone like that is within reach?” You rubbed your eyes, shaking your head. “I never thought I could feel jealousy like that, but… every bad thought I’ve ever had about myself came rushing through my head, and I thought for sure I was going to lose you.” You swallowed hard, finally looking at him again, letting the words roll off your tongue before you could take them back. “And I couldn’t bear it, because… I love you.” 

You could hear his breath hitch, bracing yourself. For what? Something bad? Something good? 

He looked straight into your eyes, his hand tilting your chin up towards him. “I love you too,” he spoke, as if he’d never been more sure of anything in his life. “And I would never replace you with anyone. You’ll never need to be jealous. I barely even gave her a second glance, and I only did because I had to protect her. It’s my job.” He wiped a tear off your cheek, his touch gentle and slow. “If I thought she was going to come onto me, I would’ve asked somebody else to go to the house.”

You could finally breathe again, the tears in your eyes now happy ones after hearing his words, a confession of love. You threw your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, and he pressed his cheek to the top of your head. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice radiating such warmth and affection. 

“I love you,” you said again, as if testing the sound it made, like tuning an instrument. It sounded better each time you said it. 

You just sat there in each others’ arms for a while, neither of you speaking a word, just letting the feelings sink in. After a while, once all the tension faded, you both pulled back, looking at each other and smiling. 

After another few moments, you spoke lightheartedly. “I’m really glad you feel the same way, because I definitely almost got fired over this.”

He laughed softly, slight concern in his eyes. “But you didn’t, right? I still get to see you at work every day?”

“We’ll see,” you responded. “Hotch said we have to talk again, so… I’m not out of the woods yet.”

He hugged you to his chest, a hand running through your hair. “I can vouch for you. Maybe it’ll help.”

You smiled at the affectionate touch, leaning into it. “How about you talk to him, and I just skip it altogether?”

He shook his head, a playful smile on his face. “I love you, but I can’t perform miracles.” 

You stayed together the rest of the night, even sleeping in the same room even though you never did that when you were out on a case. It was like you didn’t want to be apart now that you both understood your feelings better. You felt like you could get through anything together now. 

[wyvernest]

oh??my??god??? “midnight cravings” was so good! i’m foaming at the mouth 😩

would you be able to write something about how the reader has never been able to have an orgasm with another person and miguel hears this and changes that 🫣

go easy on me

part 2

pairing: miguel o'hara x afab!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, established relationship, vaginal fingering, sexual tension

The movie you put on is nearing its end. The lights dance over the walls of the dimly lit bedroom, flashing across your tired eyes. You hadn't even registered Miguel turning the volume down halfway.

It's not the first time he's come to visit. Ever since you two have started dating, he has made increasingly more time among his duties and responsibilities to swing by your place, whether to eat dinner, to watch a movie, or just sit and talk about everything and anything.

At some point along the movie, you had cuddled up against his side, head propped on his shoulder, internally surprised at how comfortable it was despite the rigid muscles that adorned his body. The only problems were the butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach, the way your heart flipped every time he even did as little as readjust his weight on the bed or sigh, in fearful yet giddy hopes that he'd maybe, just maybe, initiate something you're otherwise not bold enough to start.

Suddenly, the movie gets to a low-lit scene, and you make out Miguel's features in the screen's reflection. The contour of his face, the width of his shoulders on the headboard in comparison to your frame, gathered up by his side. And the moment you make out his eyes, it's too late.

He's staring right back at you, but you were too distracted to notice.

Dark, red-shaded eyes, outlined by thick eyebrows, daggers deepening the look on his face.

Maybe he's just lost in thought? Zoned out?

All those suppositions fly out the window faster than your breath when the corners of his mouth curl into a smirk, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. You feel unprepared for whatever he's making out to be the rest of the night in his head.

Nobody's watching whatever's left of the movie anymore.

The hand holding you by his side tightens around your shoulders, and just for a flash of a second you guess that it was all in your head. He wasn't plotting anything, he's just the sweet and caring Miguel you've known for so long, smiling kindly at you and making sure you're comfortable and close to him. All until his other hand travels to your thigh, his whole body shifting so that he sits on his side, all his attention focused on you alone.

Tilting your head up, you meet his gaze. You find it hard to pinpoint the feelings plastered on his face. Affection? Lust? Hesitancy? He's wordlessly asking you for permission to proceed.

His palm moves up, grip stronger and firmer. Your hands naturally find his chest, and you don't quite remember when you've hiked up a leg over his, letting his hand reach the mound of your soft ass, squeezing and groping.

You don't get much time to bask in the pure happiness and excitement of being inches away from his face, eye to eye, breath to breath, before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours. The kiss is gentle and tender, he tastes you like you're a goddess and he's only ever allowed to kiss you once in a whole lifetime. He cradles your body close to his, allowing himself to indulge in the delicate feeling of your soft skin, parting from your lips and kissing your face wherever he can reach, so lovingly, so carefully, having you melt against him.

You mindlessly let a moan echo in your throat, at which he retracts, as if being presented an undoubtedly green light. He pulls you impossibly close, both hands clutching at the small of your waist. His mouth drops to your neck, growing impatient and needy. He bites down, fangs stinging into your skin before he licks and pecks at the red marks, soothingly. Your breathing fails to keep up with his ministrations, your heart threatening to burst right out of your chest.

You choke on a whimper when you feel the extensive shape of his vigorous thigh push upwards between your parted legs, applying dangerous pressure right on your still clothed clit.

"Miguel." you call breathlessly, the name placed upon a questioning tone.

He stops.

"Mi vida."

"I need to tell you something."

He looks up at you from your chest, almost reverentially. There's a reassurance in his pleading, immensely compassionate eyes that can't possibly be put into words. So you confess. You tell him about your lack of experience, how nobody's brought you to the very heights of ecstasy before. He ponders the information, calculating. His attention darts momentarily between his surroundings, you and your flushed lips.

"You want me to be the first?", he's almost afraid you'll deny him. Not that he wouldn't back off the moment he sensed any sign of discom from you, but he can't deny that he had dreamed of giving you pleasure you haven't felt in your entire life. To have you twist and turn in his arms, writhe and whimper from the intensity of both your feelings and the things he could do to you.

You smile sweetly, certain of the answer.

"I want you to be the last, too."

That's all it takes. In a mere second, he's all over you, clawing and kissing every patch of skin he manages to expose. He travels down to the sides of your waist, sinking his fangs into the tender flesh without puncturing the skin, sending jolts of adrenaline and need pulsing through you. You squirm into his arms, feeling downright devoured. Spread wide open, at his disposal, liquid ready to mould into whatever vessel he offers with his embrace.

He drags your panties down your legs in one swift motion, crawling over your frame and dwarfing you in his shadow. You feel his strong, expert hand make its way down between your legs, parting your lips and rubbing in soft, circular motions.

"You're soaked" he mumbles into your ear, his breaths hot and heavy on your neck. You manage to sob briefly, too overwhelmed to speak.

He pushes a finger into your cunt, swelling with pride when feeling how wet you had gotten for him. You moan at the stretch, as the heat of the heel of his palm digs into your core. You whimper, and he kisses you, swallowing his whispered name.

You liquefy into his embrace, allowing him to add a second finger. He's testing the perimeter, playing and experimenting with angles, watching your reactions intently. He suddenly hits a rough spot that had you bucking your hips, and he flashes you a smug smile, fangs on display. He repeats the motion, rolling his hand into your pelvis, and you can't do anything but grab onto his muscled arm and quicken your already laboured breaths. He starts giving attention to your clit in tandem, rubbing the heel of his palm into the sensitive bud.

You watch the mesmerising way his arm flexes with every movement, every thrust of his thick fingers into your drenched cunt.

Soon enough you feel the unmistakable coil start to form into your lower abdomen, legs tense and face contorted from the pleasure.

"That's it. Dios mío, you're so beautiful when you're about to come.", his voice is low and breathless, echoing into your lust-addled brain and then straight down to your cunt. You reach your peak, gushing on his hand, pulsing around his fingers.

He holds you to his chest while you ride out your high, watching the way your lips struggle to form coherent words that aren't his name.

As your breathing returns to normal, he places a chaste kiss on your forehead, and you mentally swear you could die right then and there.

It's all so intimate, gentle, and romantic until–

"Can't wait to feel you pulse like that around my cock."

a/n: hope this is what you wanted<3

[nena-la-fresa]

can i ask u a Josh Washigton x reader request? I would love to read an scenario were its the reader's birthday🥹

Keep It Warm

18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio, if you do not I will automatically block you because I’ll assume you are a minor.

Pairing: Josh Washington x f! Reader

Warning: Fluff | A tiny bit of Angst | Mental Institution Mentioned | Birthday |

Word Count: 685

A/n: Hopefully this is okay. I feel like I can’t make a Josh fic without some sort of angst. Sorry it's super short. I have a lot of class assignments due this week so my focus is on that rn. Off topic but I'm thinking about making a Mr.Robot fic. Im back in my Rami Malek era.

“You are receiving a call from Ocean View Hospital. Would you like to accept?” 

“Yes.”

The line was then connected. 

“Hey sweetheart. How are you?” You could hear his sly look through the phone. 

You leaned against the wall fiddling with the hem of your shirt. 

“I’m good. How about yourself?” You missed hearing his voice. 

“I’m good now.” 

“Oh are you really?” 

“Yeah. I’m just glad I get to hear you talk. It’s a good distraction from all this.” 

“I’m glad I can distract you for a bit.” 

You had been friends with Josh since you both were little. You had always known something was a bit different with him. But it wasn’t until you both started dating that you had fully known the extent of his condition. Josh would wake up during the night screaming, he’d have a hard time recognizing you at times.

“So my birthday’s coming up.”

“It is, isn't it.” 

“Do you think you’ll finally be out by then?”

“I’m not too sure babe. But if I’m doing better by then you'll be the first to know.” 

You felt slightly disappointed but you knew he was in there to get the help he needed. 

That was 3 weeks ago. 

You hadn’t heard from Josh since that last phone call. He hadn’t been returning your letters or phone calls. You had begun to assume the worst. What if he didn’t want to talk to you anymore? Or what if he regressed? What if his meds stopped working. Even when you asked Hannah and Beth they hadn’t been able to contact him either. 

All you could think about was the day you found him. You could still see it. He was passed out on the floor. He was unresponsive for a good minute before you had to throw cold water on him. He was sobbing, saying how he wasn’t good enough for you. Saying that he didn’t deserve you. But those sobs quickly turned to anger, not at you but to whatever was talking around him. He swatted trying to get the voices away from him. But what really did it for him was when he accidentally hit you. The guilt that he felt, he didn’t mean it. He wasn’t aiming for you. He couldn’t even see you with his delusions tormenting him. That was what really made him commit himself. 

Hannah knew how upset you were but she thought it would be a good idea to take you to the cabin for your birthday. You had always said it was your favorite place to go. 

You and Hannah were already making your way to the cable cart, “Didn’t you say Beth was going to meet us here?” 

Hanna turned slightly to you, “Yeah, she got cold and just texted me that she was going to go ahead to the cabin.”

You nodded. After the walking you could finally see the cabin in sight. It was just as beautiful as you remembered it. Hannah held the door open for you as you walked in first. You felt your body jolt from the yelling. 

“Surprise!” Little poppers and kazoos echoed through the room. 

“Aw you guys.” You felt your eyes tear up a bit. From the excitement but also from the disappointment. Out of all the faces there, the one you wanted the most wasn’t there. 

You let out a surprised scream feeling someone picking you up from behind. As soon as you were set back down you saw who it was. 

Until you felt someone pick you up from behind 

It was him. 

“What did you think I forgot?”

You felt the tears run down your face. You nodded slightly.

"Now why would I forget about you."

You hugged him tightly, feeling his arms wrap around you.

“When did they let you out?”

“About three days ago.”

“Why didn't you tell me”

“I wanted to surprise you. I'm sorry”

“No, I'm just so happy. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I promise I won’t miss another one.”

He wiped your tears, “I missed you so much. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise.” 

[ninthcircleofprythian]

Make It Hurt

Eris Vanserra x You

Word Count : 2.9k

Summary : After a truly terrible day you come home only to be surprised by the one and only Eris Vanserra and he knows how to make it all better.

Warnings : full on smut, no plot, one singular use of y/n, some swearing, heavy praise kink, dirty talk, heavy use of pet names/honorifics, dom! Eris, dom/sub dynamics, bdsm themes, mention of safeword, impact play (spanking), temperature play, explicit sex described - fingering (f recieving), p in v

Author's Notes : This was whipped up quickly while taking a break from other fics, lightly edited so please forgive any mistakes.

Today was one of the most awful days you’ve had in a long time. You head straight into the shower after returning home, ready to wash the thoughts and emotions of this never ending day away. What you need is a good cry and a bottle of wine. 

As the water washes over you, you let loose the sobs that have been building in your chest all afternoon. After a few minutes of good hard crying, you feel numb. Your mind is spent, your body is tired and you can’t seem to will yourself into getting out of the shower.

From the other side of the curtain, you hear the telltale shuffling of someone entering the bathroom. Eris. He must have finally been able to sneak away from his father’s supervision long enough to see you. It’s been over a week since the last time.

He remains quiet, not announcing his presence. He thinks he is being stealthy and you haven’t heard him. Normally you are singing at the top of your lungs and wouldn’t hear him until it was too late. Suddenly Eris grabs hold of whatever magic heats your water and with his own fire manipulation he wills the temperature to searing.

On any other day the assault of heat raining down on you would have you skittering out of the spray and screaming at him with playful frustration. Today however it feels like just what you needed, even more cathartic than your earlier crying session.

The hot water scalds your skin and the sensation brings you to your knees on the shower floor with a shouting plea.

“Please!” 

In an instant the curtain is torn back. “Fuck. [y/n], are you alright?” Eris’ eyes are wild with worry as he drops his hold on his fire and the water returns to its usual temperature.

“I’m fine,” you sob. “I just need to get out of my head. I need to feel something - else.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He crouches down beside the tub, concern still lacing his features.

“No. Eris -” his name falls from your lips in a gasp. “Make it hurt, please”

The flames within his eyes flare back to life as if they’ve suddenly been fueled with gasoline. His face shifts into that sneering smile he normally reserves for his cruel prince facade as he rises  slowly back to standing.

“Since you said please princess.” The timbre of his voice drops into a sultry purr. “First, tell me your safeword.”

You answer without hesitation. “Inferno”

“Good girl.” With a flick of his wrist, he makes the water as hot as he knows you can handle.

It hits your bare back and you whimper from the shock of it before allowing it to settle into your bones. The sensation is delicious, everything you’ve been craving. With a soft groan, you unfold yourself from the hold you have on your folded knees. Leaning back you allow the water to glide over your front. The heat enveloping your breasts chases all your thoughts away. 

You begin moving on instinct alone, slipping your hands over the wetness of your body and cradling the heaviness of your breasts in your palms. With a pinch, you are at your nipples, rolling them between your fingers and pulling. 

Immediately, the water turns off and you whimper.

“Now, now princess, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Eris’ slithering voice snaps you back into the moment. “That will be your only warning.”

You drop your hands to your lap, steadying your breaths. 

“I said, that will be your only warning princess. Do you understand?”

The shiver of your transgression snakes down your spine. “Yes, my Lord.” 

“Good. Now, up.”

Eris holds out a towel and wraps you in it as you step over the side of the tub. The heat of his arms through the towel are nearly as good as the shower. You stand perfectly still as he towels you dry, only moving limbs as he directs you with a gentle tap of his long fingers. 

Dropping the towel, he heads for the door. You follow behind him silently. Once in the bedroom, he points at the space between the sofa and the fireplace it is placed in front of.

“On your knees, princess.”

Obediently, you take your position, settling your hands in your lap once again. Eris walks over and opens the closet, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his shirt sleeves past the elbow as he makes his selections. The sight of his strong pale arms flexing is almost enough to make you moan. 

Making his way back to the sofa, he settles himself on the cushions, spreading his legs wide. He leans forward, two choices dangling from his fingers. A leather flogger and a hard wooden paddle.

“Take your pick.” 

“The paddle please, my Lord.”

“Good choice my little blaze.” His smile that graces his face is purely predatory. He tosses the flogger over to the other side of the sofa and leans back patting his knee. “Straddle me, sweetheart.”

Rising from the floor you approach him, slipping one knee on either side of his hips and settling back onto his lap, hands resting on your thighs. Eris’ firm hands grip your hips and haul you closer so your lower belly is pressed to his taut stomach, the heat of his bulging front brushing against your core. A quiet sigh passes your lips at the thought of that heat all over your body. 

“I’ve waited all week to hear that little sigh of yours, princess.” His breath ghosts over your skin as he whispers against you, just below your breasts. Strands of his fiery hair brush against your taut nipples.

Eris’ hands glide smoothly from your hips to cradle your plump bottom. “Maybe we should warm you up a little first,” his mouth still pressed to your middle.

One large hand smacks loudly against your skin. The sting is instant and you let out a small cry of surprise.

Bringing his gaze to yours, his eyes narrow with a seductive grin. “Oh, now, we can do better than that, can't we little blaze?” 

“Yes, my Lord.” As you answer he grabs your wrists and brings your palms up to his shoulders.

“Let’s see how many you can take before you are begging to finish on my lap.”  The muscles in your core ripple at the thought as you feel your arousal slick through your folds and you stifle a moan in your throat.

His hand strikes your bottom again, on the opposite side this time. The sound that leaves you is no longer one of surprise but a plea.

Eris’ mouth now hovers over your breast, lips teasing but not touching, his heated breath causing your nipple to tighten further. His thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip. No thoughts, just desire. 

“That’s it, there’s my needy girl. Count for me, princess.”

“One.” Your voice comes out as a rasping whisper.

Eris chuckles softly against your ear as he reaches for the paddle now. “I believe that was two, sweetheart.” 

Before you can correct yourself, the paddle meets your skin with a raging sting.

“Three” you pant out.

Another strike quickly follows.  The intensity of the pain and the delicious burn of the hit has you leaning harder into his shoulders. Chills race down your spine, adding to that tightening sensation, your core clenching around nothing drives you mad.

“Four” you cry out, a tear escaping your eye. 

Hits five and six have you moaning sinfully and gasping for air. You feel Eris’ warm palm, heated with his fire magic, drag across what you are sure is your very red bottom. The added heat to the already sensitive skin has your nails digging into his shoulders with a groan.

His fingers stray from your hip to your core, dampness coating his fingers before he could even part your folds. He groans, sliding his fingers through your folds gathering more of your arousal. his hips pushing up against your thighs, the seam of his pants threatening to bust open.

“So wet for me princess.” His mouth now trailing whisper soft kisses along your shoulder. 

He continues to slide his fingers along the length of you, the anticipation of them entering you nearly driving you wild. You wiggle your hips a little and his hand freezes. You immediately know what you’ve done.

“Uh-uh. You know the rules sweetheart. Use your words,” he commands.

“Please Eris. My Lord. I need it.”

“Need what princess? My hand? Do you want to come all over my fingers?”

“Yes, please,” you whine.

“Tell me, little blaze. Let me hear you say it.”

“I need your fingers in my cunt. I want to come all over them.” Your voice shudders in quick pants. 

The groan Eris’ releases creates a wave of chills that leave your legs trembling. “I love hearing you ask to come. It sounds so sweet coming from that filthy mouth.” 

His praise has your core clenching on nothing, his fingertips resting right there at your entrance he could feel you fluttering in anticipation.

He hums as two fingers enter you. The stretch of your walls has you gasping as he strokes inside you. Your thighs start shaking even harder as that familiar tightness pulls at your belly. You arch your back as you push down against his hand, trying desperately to seat his fingers deeper. 

Before he can chastise you for moving again, you plead in a shuddering moan. “More. Please, my Lord. I need more.”

“That’s it princess. What a good girl.” The lust has his voice deepening sensually.

You feel a third finger at your entrance, Eris eases it in slowly as your walls accommodate it, then he pushes all three as far as they will go. His other hand finds your breast, pinching and pulling at your nipple. The noises you make are constant as his fingers are pumping in and out of you at a punishing pace. Bringing his lips to your shoulder again, he gently scrapes his teeth along your collarbone. His other hand drifts to your lower belly, applying gentle pressure against your womb.

“Let go for me sweetheart. Let me feel you come all over me.”

It only takes two more pounding strokes for you to burst. Pleasure radiates through your core as you squeeze a punishing grip to his shoulders, leaning your forehead against his. Your thighs are shaking so hard as you scream his name, that one knee slips off the cushion. The hand Eris had pressing your middle snaps out and grips you around your waist to keep you from sliding to the floor. His fingers keep pumping, not as hard but just as fast, as you come down from your climax. 

Eris removes his fingers from you as you slump against his shoulder, arms twining around his neck. Grabbing your thighs he pulls you further into his lap and settles you more comfortably. 

“You did so good, princess,” he says as he nuzzles against your neck, his hands sliding up your back in a gentle caress. 

“Mmm.” It’s the only sound you are capable of making. Every muscle in your body feels heavy and satiated. All you can focus on is the heat of Eris’s body pressed tightly against yours.

“You alright?” He whispers against the shell of your ear before placing a tenderly soft kiss at your temple. One hand slides up under your hair to the nape of your neck, fingers massaging at your scalp.

“Perfect,” you answer, gaining back use of your voice. You lift your head to peer into his clear amber eyes. Gone is the seductive smirk of being in control of your pleasure. In its place is the soft look of adoration. “And you?”

“Perfect,” he whispers as he cradles your face and rubs his nose against yours. The insistent mound of his desire is still pressing against you and you roll your hips against him.

A flash pulses through his eyes in question and you answer him with a kiss. Brushing your lips against his once, twice. Then opening up to flick your tongue against his before deepening into it. Your hands slide down his chest, barely grazing against his belt buckle before he swiftly adjusts his hold on you and hauls you towards the bed. 

“Not tonight,” he growls as he lowers you to the mattress. “I need to be inside you.”

You gasp as a bright flash of flame quickly dissipates and he stands before you completely bare, the heavy length of him hanging between his legs. Pushing yourself back towards the pillows, Eris climbs toward you, sliding one hand up your calf and over your thigh. 

“I’ve needed you all week,” he says, leaning down to kiss one hip. “Every waking thought.” He kisses the other hip. “Was of you.”

He plants the last kiss on your sternum between your breasts, one hand weighing your breast in his palm with a swipe of his thumb over your nipple. A lazy smile graces his face as he watches it pucker.

“That sounds very distracting,” you giggle as you slip both hands into his hair.

He places a soft kiss against your lips as he settles himself over top of you. His cock like a rod of molten metal pressed against your folds. 

He huffs out a little laugh at your breathy inhale. “You have no idea. I need you desperately.”

You shift slightly, allowing the hold your legs have on his hips to loosen and letting your thighs fall open beneath him. 

“I’m right here,” you whisper, caressing his cheek. “So take me.”

With a sinful groan, his mouth is at your ear nibbling your earlobe. He thrusts against you, his cock parting your folds and sliding through your arousal. With a shift of his hips and the help of his hand, he angles at your entrance. 

“Look at me, little blaze. I want to see your face as I fill you with my cock.”

Through heavy lidded eyes you meet his gaze. The wildfire burning within them sets your body alight and you sigh a heavy sigh as he pushes in just a fraction of himself.

“Careful princess, those noises you make do dangerous things to me.”

You smile as he continues to slowly push into you, making sure your next moan is directly next to his ear. Snapping his head back with a gleam in his eye, he watches your face intently as he seats himself fully in one single thrust. 

“Eris!” The cry leaves you unexpectedly as he rocks his hips against yours.

The sound of his restrained breathing against your neck is making your heart skip beats. The stinging stretch of your core begins to settle into pleasure and you swear you can feel every single inch of his heat radiating inside you.

“I’m trying to take it easy on you little blaze,” he pants out.

“Don’t.” Straining your hips, you push against him urging him to move. “Take what you need, Eris. Please.” 

The moaning want of your plea does him in. Rocking his hips once more against you, he pulls back fully. The loss of his heat and the emptiness has you digging your nails into the back of his arms. Before you can take another breath he slams into you and begins a steady pace. 

“You like when I take you, sweetheart?” With a swift movement, his arm dives under one of your thighs and brings it up pressing your knee toward your chest. His thrusting doesn’t skip a beat. “You like when I fuck you like this?”

You cry out a moan at the change of angle and the friction against your still sensitive bud. His cock drives deeper into you, hitting that perfect spot inside that causes your vision to dim around the edges. 

“Are you going to come again for me princess? Give me one more. I know you can.”

The tightening in your belly feels like a band stretched to its max and yet it keeps pulling and pulling and pulling. Your breathing is nothing but short pants now and the blackness in your vision begins to close in.

Sensing your overworked breathing, Eris slows his pace slightly, turning his forceful thrusts into a sliding drag. 

“Stay with me, little blaze. Keep breathing.” 

Your breaths slow enough to force the air into your lungs and the blackness recedes, but the band in your belly remains taut threatening to snap at any moment. 

“That’s it. Just like that.”

With your sense fully intact again, you grip his arms harder, nearly drawing blood on his biceps.

“Eris, I – I’m going —” 

“Come with me,” he commands. His own breathing skips into an erratic rhythm. “Come on my cock as I fill you up.”

You feel the fluttering pulse of your orgasm beginning and Eris groans your name against your temple. That’s all it takes to send you over the precipice. Your legs swing over his hips and your ankles lock over him as the crest of your pleasure crashes over you. Just a few thrusts more and Eris is following you over the edge. You swear you can feel every hot pulse of his release as he empties himself inside you, roaring your name like a chant. 

His languid body remains on top of you as your legs fall from his back, both of you relishing in the aftermath of your pleasure. Slowly, you bring a hand to his head, scrubbing your nails at his scalp.

“You alright?” you ask quietly.

“Perfect,” he mumbles into the side of your neck.

With a smile you think to yourself that maybe this day wasn’t so terrible after all.

[vinnellamadz]

Enemies to lovers Adam x f!reader?

Enemies to Lovers

Adam X Reader

A/N: I shed blood, sweat and tears making this. SORRY IF ITS OOC this is my first real fic Adam is a PAIN to write.

You were never really able to get along with Adam. From the moment Adam arrived in heaven, the two of you were always at each other's throats.

Adam would always pick fights over the smallest things, and it was always enough to make you bite back. There wasn't a single day that he couldn't get under your skin and make fun of you. Calling you names, competing with you, and just being a general pain in your ass.

Today was the day of the first-second extermination of the year.

Adam was off giving his soldiers a 'pep talk', but before he flew off to this hazbin hotel, he came to you first.

As always, he made sure to get his daily insults in before he left, tearing into you with his words, ensuring you knew just how inferior and pathetic he deemed you. His snarky and playful tone only served to aggravate you further. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you snapped back, 'Oh, shut up! I hope you never return, Adam!' His initial shock quickly gave way to a smug grin. 'Calm your pretty little head, babe,' he retorted, his arrogance undeterred as he continued to prattle on about himself."

You weren't even listening; His annoying voice was easy to block out.

“plus I know you’ll miss me, I fuckin’ rock, I’m THE Adam” he pointed to himself keeping that stupid shit eating smile he always had, god you wanted to punch him so bad but couldn't, as you feared you would get sent to hell so you slammed the door in his face instead.

Later that night, you were sitting on your heavenly comfy couch, enjoying the latest episodes of your favorite shows. You were just about to fall asleep when a frantic knock jolted you from the cushions. With a tinge of fear, you approached the door, thinking, 'This is heaven; this couldn’t be bad, right?' As you opened the door and peeked out, you were shocked to see Adam, but he was far from his usual self. Covered in golden blood and bearing multiple stab wounds, he looked as though he had been through hell. (Lol) Without hesitation, you flung the door open, calling out, 'Adam!' before he collapsed on your doorstep.

It had been a while since you found Adam. Earlier, you had managed to drag him to your couch. As you attempted to patch him up, you discovered several more wounds scattered across his body. Shocked by the extent of his injuries, you couldn't help but wonder who could have inflicted such damage.

hours have passed since the surprise at your doorstep. You had fallen asleep on the floor beside him. When you woke up, he had yet to awaken, Panic gripped your heart as you reached out to shake him gently, wondering if he had actually died in his sleep. (double dead) You placed your finger beneath his nose, relieved to feel the subtle rise and fall of his breath. 'Why do I even care so much...' you pondered, a mix of emotions swirling within you.

More hours had passed, and as you were making lunch for yourself, you heard him make a sound. Turning around, you saw that he had finally woken up. “What the fuck am I doing here?” was the first thing that came out of his mouth. “You came to me, Adam. You're hurt.” Upon hearing your words, he winced and attempted to sit up, but a wave of pain washed over him, causing him to groan. Reacting quickly, you rushed to his side, gently placing a hand on his shoulder to ease him back down. 'Lay down, Adam,' you said softly, concern evident in your voice. “You're going to make it worse if you push yourself too hard.” Adam groaned with displeasure as you stood up and started walking back to the kitchen. However, something he said made you stop in your tracks.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” You froze in surprise. 'What?' Slowly, you turned to him, a shocked expression on your face. “Excuse me? How hard did you hit your head?”

You stood there in silence as he just stared at you “… I’m just fucking with you… dumb b-bitch…” he looked away in embarrassment, you stared at him with a shocked look ‘doesn’t sound like was a joke..’

“I can do it myself!” He argued.

"If you move, you'll probably explode or die. Stop it!" You were trying your best to care for him these past few days, but he's just such a pain in the ass. Currently, you were trying to feed him, but he kept turning his head away, stubborn as ever. Fed up with his behavior and the frustration boiling inside you, you finally snapped. With determination, you grabbed hold of his head, locking eyes with him. "Just eat it, damn it!" you exclaimed, frustration evident in your voice as you forcefully shoved the spoon into his mouth. Finally, he relented and ate it, although begrudgingly.

“I’d rather you shove your-“

“Shut the fuck up”

“Moody Bitch…”

You scoffed at his remarks, striding over to him and motioning for him to sit up, to which he obliges. "Take your shirt off," you instruct. He smirks in response. "Don't give me that look; you know what I mean." His smirk fades into annoyance as he complies with your request. Gently removing his bandages required getting close, and you carefully unwrap them before swiftly replacing them with fresh ones, wrapping them around his body with precision and care.

"You look really pretty down there" he grins at you, his eyes sparkling with admiration. You blush in response, feeling a warm flush creeping up your cheeks, unsure of how to respond to the unexpected compliment.

Wanna know a secret?" He said, catching your attention. You looked at him with a confused expression, but slowly nodded, curiosity piqued.

"you know I live alone right now? No one's going to—" Your words were cut off as you felt his hand grasp your face, Before you could react, his lips met yours in a sudden, electrifying kiss, sending a rush of warmth through your body.

Adam pulled away, leaving you stunned and bewildered by the sudden rush of conflicting emotions.

"You make it so damn difficult to hate you," he confessed, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of something deeper, something you couldn't quite decipher. As you stood there, grappling with the unexpected confession, you realized that perhaps there was more to your relationship than just rivalry. With a mixture of uncertainty and expanding hope, you met his gaze, silently acknowledging the unspoken possibility of a new beginning between two former enemies turned potential lovers.

This was so hard goodbye. It’s so OOC I’m soo sorry I tried to rush the end to put this out faster 😭

[seeingivy]

so high school

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my gojo as taylor songs series

an: so sorry to the dream girl fans, had to expedite this one. taylor as gojo anon its your lucky day.

--

you were always under the impression that people like satoru gojo were perfect. 

flawless even. 

at times, you were even inclined to think that it was unfair; that some people were born with perfect looks, charming personalities, with intellect and intelligence to match. that they didn’t have to struggle. 

though it seems at the current moment, you stood corrected. because the so-called rumors that you had heard about satoru – that he always participated in class, that the teachers loved him – they might have still stood true, but the underlying implication that was always insinuated, that he was naturally intelligent, wasn't. 

it slightly cracked a sheen into the persona. you wondered if the girls in your english literature class would still giggle about him the way they did under their breaths if they knew. though knowing them, they probably would find some way to make his ineptness endearing. 

“this is the quadratic formula. did you understand this one when we went over it in class?” you ask. 

“yes.” satoru responds, seething. 

“okay, so if that’s the case, can you solve this problem for me?” you ask. 

you slide the paper over to satoru, eyes hopeful, as you watch a blank expression spread over his face.  it’s something that he does often, or at least in this setting from what you can tell of the total of two hours that have passed. 

the entire session seems to be a lot of talking into the air – with him opting to listen to you explain the question rather than try it on his own or admit where exactly it is that he needs help. 

you’re not surprised that he has an ego about getting forced to do remedial tutoring. 

“you know, listening to explain it over and over again won’t really help. you have to be able to struggle your way through the question on your own.” you respond. 

satoru gives you a shrug, before taking the paper into his own hands. 

“this is bullshit. and i get that i have to like know this shit because like…societies and shit before me knew it all but i don’t really understand the point. coach is just making me do this bullshit to keep me from playing more. 

you pinch your lips into a line. the algebra teacher and basketball coach, masamichi yagi, had, in confidence, told you the exact opposite. that satoru was bright and talented – on the road to where he wanted to go – but his grades were going to hold him back if he didn’t try harder. 

you can still hear his words in your head. 

he can be tough to work with when he’s frustrated, but just try to get through to him. he’s smart enough to do this. 

“i mean, the past societies and stuff learned it and emphasize passing it on because it’s actually really relevant to what you’re doing right now.” you respond. 

“yeah, maybe for nerd shit that you do, but it’s not really relevant to where i want to go.” satoru responds. 

you roll your eyes. he didn’t have to be irritating about it. 

“and where’s that?” you ask. 

and in a split second, you see satoru smile for the first time, this close. you weren’t a stranger to him at all – almost no one was with the way the basketball team's pictures were plastered all over the school in the yearbook – but you had never sat so close to him before, at least not in years. 

he a dimple on the right side and three freckles on the left. 

“i’m going to be a starting point guard on an nba basketball team.” satoru whispers. 

“you want to go pro?” you ask. 

“hell yeah. it’s all i’ve ever wanted since i was a kid.” 

you smile. you had heard it before – that he was electric on the court – but you didn’t realize that it was serious enough to pursue a basketball career. 

“i hate to break it to you, but the quadratic formula will be really useful to you in the future.” you respond. 

satoru scoffs. you take the board from him, drawing out the trajectory of the line, as he explains. 

“the reason that you use the quadratic formula is to find the solution of the equation. it can actually tell you more than you think – about where something needs to be in space, how fast it needs to move. if you’re standing all the way at the end of the basketball court, as far away from the net as possible, you’re not going to shoot right?” you ask. 

“obviously not.” satoru responds, sarcastically. 

“and you’re not going to try from right underneath the net?” 

“not if i want to get my ass beat by coach.” 

“so you know that you have to find the right spot to try from because it’ll give you your best possible shot at getting it into the basket. that’s how the equation works – figuring out the best possible spot to where your solution works.” 

satoru rolls his eyes at you. 

“so?” 

“so. you should think about it like that. don’t make it so abstract because it’s honestly way too boring to try to do it that way. finding applications will help you get through how difficult it is. if you want to get scouted for division one basketball, you have to have good grades.” 

satoru clicks his tongue in his cheek. 

“do you want me to do the quadratic formula in my head every time i make a shot?” 

you roll your eyes. 

“obviously not. but you have to admit that something like that would be helpful. and it is helpful, for people who do engineering, fly planes, all of that type of stuff. the application will just make it more interesting or relevant for you.” you respond. 

“how do you get through it?” he asks. 

you pause. 

“what?” 

“your application or whatever. to make you do it without getting bored.” 

you can feel your cheeks burn. 

“i actually don’t have one. i was just making that up.” 

satoru’s eyes widen. 

“you gave me a whole inspirational lecture with shit you pulled out of your ass?” satoru asks, eyes incredulous. 

you note that there’s a whisper of a smile on his face. 

“part of the job is motivating students! and i don’t have one because what i want to do actually does have no application to this..” you respond. 

satoru nods, before leaning forward on the desk, his cheek in the palm of his hand as he smiles.

“so what do you want to do?” he asks. 

“what?” 

“in the future. i’d love to hear whatever it is that doesn’t have a real life application to math, so i can use it as a backup plan if this whole basketball thing doesn’t work out.” 

you glare at him. 

“this is a tutoring session, not social hour.” 

“oh come on. you’re no fun. i promise i’ll actually try if you tell me.” satoru responds. 

you debate lying. 

you debate lying because you know this is how he is, because you’ve seen him do this since the second he had his growth spurt in the sixth grade. tell different girls that they’re pretty, flatter them by asking them personal questions, and flirt like it was the air he breathed. 

and it makes you mad – only because you were that girl in seventh grade. giggling to yourself about how he said your braids were pretty, asking about if you were going to the dance, and everything in between. 

the only reason that the girls who whispered about him in your english literature class annoy you is because they remind you of yourself. though that stopped dead in his tracks when you realized that it was something that he did with everyone. 

satoru’s eyes are expectant, waiting for an answer, and you convince yourself later that night that it’s why you gave in and told him what you’ve never told anyone before. not because he really was attractive and charming – but only because he told you his first.

“scout’s honor you won’t tell?” you ask. 

satoru signals with the little cross over his heart, before giving you a nod. 

“i want to be a singer.” you respond. 

satoru’s eyes widen. 

“you’d be great for that!” 

“what?” 

“oh, come on. you’ve been the lead of every musical since like freshman year. and i remember that song you wrote about cheerleaders or whatever in sixth grade, it was really good.”

you widen your eyes. 

“you remember that?” you ask. 

“what was it called? i just remember it was like cheer captain and bleachers or something like that. mei mei got really mad at the time because she thought you were talking about her.” 

you laugh. 

“it was called you belong with me. there was a lyric in it, she’s cheer captain and i’m on the bleachers. and she was right to be mad, because it was about her. i can’t even believe you remember that.” you respond. 

satoru smirks. 

“do you just think i’m some asshole? we’ve gone to the same school since preschool. i like to think we’re friends – that’s why i picked you to be my tutor.” satoru responds. 

you didn’t know that part. you had figured that yaga had just reached out to you because you were one of the top students in the class.  

“i don’t know. i didn’t realize you remembered all that! i kind of thought you didn’t even know my name.” you respond. 

satoru smiles. 

“your name is y/n. you used to wear pigtail braids in first grade with ribbons in them. you’re really smart and you always have been. you went to the dance in seventh grade with that robotics nerd nanami kento. and one time you picked me for heads up seven up in fourth grade.” satoru responds. 

you feel your cheeks warm up. 

at the heat of your infatuation with satoru, you had made your move in the only way that you knew how – by picking him in heads up seven up. 

once in a while, you would get to play the game in class – when it was someone's birthday or you were waiting for an assembly to start. the teacher would pick seven students and the rest would put their heads down at their desks, with their thumbs up. the people who were selected got to pick anyone they wanted in the room and tap on their head. if the people who were tapped were able to guess who picked them correctly, they got to switch in. 

you picked satoru. and he guessed correctly. 

“kind of had a big fat crush on you after that, if i’m not going to lie.” satoru jokes. 

“what? over the heads up seven up?” 

satoru nods. 

“you picked me out of a room of forty people. i was ready to propose marriage.” satoru jokes. 

you snort. 

“don’t say that. i totally would have said yes. i obviously picked you for a reason.” 

satoru looks up at you, eyes wide in something you can’t really place, before he grins at you brightly. 

“you bitch! we could have been childhood sweethearts at this point if you weren’t such a chicken.” 

“me? you should have made a move. the ball was in your court after i tapped on you in heads up seven up.” 

satoru sighs. 

“oh ten year old satoru. dropping the ball as always.” 

you roll your eyes, before sliding the worksheet back over to him. satoru groans, before sneaking the paper closer to him, and scratching his head as he looks at the paper. you lean over the tiniest bit of the desk, trying to make a mess of his scribbling, and making sure he’s on the right path. 

“why’d you pick that one as c?” you ask. 

“was i not supposed to?”

“i mean, no. i just wanted to figure out why so you don’t do it next time.” 

it goes like that for the rest of the hour. he tends to make silly mistakes or get hopelessly lost in the middle, but answers one question correctly by the end of the session – which he takes as a win. 

he says one thing that sticks in your mind before he leaves, with the same expectant eyes waiting for an answer as he hangs off of the door frame. 

“y/n?” 

“yeah?”

“when you become a big famous singer, will you invite me to your first show?” satoru asks. 

you smile, before looking down at your hands and twisting the silver rings on your fingers. 

“if that happens, sure. only if you invite me to the first game where you get to start.” you respond. 

satoru grins brightly, his eyes crinkling in the smile.  

“i'm betting on it. you and me.” 

--

three months into tutoring – and a few ice cream cones and movies here and there – satoru invites you to go to a party with him.

“you know, i’m not really into the party scene, satoru.” you respond. 

“but you’re into me, because i’m the love of your life, so you should come anyways.” 

satoru does that often. flirt, make jokes about how the two of you are meant to be, and everything in between. troy and gabriella because you’re a brainiac and he’s an athlete. the best love story, since you’ve liked each other from the start. 

but you know that he’s joking, because he does that with everyone. it doesn’t mean that it isn’t nice to pretend that it’s true sometimes. 

“look, mei mei has a bunch of drinks that her dad bought for the party, so you should just come and let loose.” 

you widen your eyes. 

“you know mei mei hates me right?” 

“it’s okay, being around her will give you more material to write for your songs. then you can sing it on your sold out world tour.” satoru jokes. 

he also does that often. talk about your dream like it’s most certainly going to come true. talk about how he’s going to be front row, how you’re going to be the half-time show for his championship games, and how fans will adore your love story and humble backgrounds in tutoring. 

“come on. i’ll pick you up at six, okay?” 

at six pm, satoru honks the horn of his shitty honda civic for six minutes before you oblige and give in. and the party goes well – with satoru sticking by your side, introducing you to his best friend suguru, and making you do shots with cheap tequila. 

it goes well until they start playing a mixed version of truth or dare and spin the bottle. you have two options when the bottle lands on you – kissing the person who span it or getting a truth or dare from them. 

it’s not your idea of fun. because while you would have easily opted for just being asked truthful questions all night, you realize that the stuff that they ask and insinuate is no joke. 

and after an hour, satoru kisses suguru – much to suguru’s dismay – and shoko gets dared to prank call her ex-girlfriend, utahime, which goes insanely horrible. it felt like intruding to listen to the two of them argue so openly on the phone. 

when mei mei spins the bottle, it lands on you. 

“please don’t try to kiss me.” 

you pinch your lips in a line. 

“i wasn’t planning on it. i’ll do truth.” 

she breaths a dramatic sigh of relief. you shoot satoru a smile, who shakes it off as plain joking, before you swallow hard. 

“fuck, marry, kill. satoru, suguru, and choso.” 

you feel your eyes widen. 

“was the game not kiss, marry, kill?” you respond. 

“if we’re in the sixth grade.” mei mei responds.

you fidget with your fingers in your lap, all three of them expectantly looking at you, as you feel your voice shake. 

“um. marry satoru. and then i guess…i’ll kill choso? and you know the last one.” you respond. 

“and i thought we were friends.” choso responds, voice dripping with sarcasm as the group of them snicker. 

“we can go do that right now, that’s not a problem. should we switch the game to seven minutes in heaven?” suguru responds, snickering over his shoulder with shoko who doesn’t entertain one second of his nonsense. 

satoru is the only one who doesn’t say anything. and they move on just as fast, spinning the bottle over and over again, while you overthink what just happened – how awkward you were being, how satoru slightly shifted away from you on the hard carpet, and how you very desperately want to go home. 

when you spin the bottle, you hope to god it doesn’t land on him. but it’s just your luck, because it points directly at suguru, who is now very smugly seated next to satoru. 

“are you going to kiss me?” suguru asks. 

you know that he’s joking. you know deep down that this is just something that makes them laugh, that deep down, you wouldn’t really have to if you didn’t want to, but that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing to be cornered like this. 

“no.” you respond. 

suguru feigns hurt. 

“why not?”

you look down at your hands. 

“i’ve never kissed anyone before.” 

“i can fix that.” suguru responds. 

you shake your head. and in the split second that passes, you can feel satoru’s hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you down the stairs and out the door, and leading you down the street to where he parked his car. 

he’s quiet as he rummages in his pockets for his key, angrily yanking on the door, as you stand on the pavement. 

“come on. we’re going home.” he responds, leaning his hands on the open door as he gestures for you to move to the passengers side. 

you shake your head, feeling hot burning tears in your eyes, as you look at him. 

“are you mad at me or something?” you ask. 

“what?” 

“i don’t know! i didn’t know what to say when mei mei asked me that. i don’t ever want to offend you or hurt your feelings or anything. and i wasn’t going to kiss your friend, you didn’t have to drag me out of there like that because i wasn’t even going to consider it.” 

satoru sighs, leaning his cheek against the window, as he gives you a halfhearted smile. 

“i’m not mad at you. or what you said.” 

“okay, because i thought that was the best option! marry is objectively the option you save for the best person in the options because that’s the person you have to kiss too. like when you marry someone you obviously have to kiss them and you’re not going to kill them, so you save it for the best.” you respond, rambling. 

satoru grins. 

“you think i’m the best option?” 

you groan. 

“shut up. i don’t even know choso. and suguru is…suguru. no.” 

satoru smiles, walking away from the open door, before reaching for your wrists and squeezing hard. 

“i’m not mad at you. i just got…annoyed back there for a second.” satoru murmurs. 

“at?” 

satoru tries to stifle his sigh. 

“i didn’t want suguru to kiss you.” satoru responds. 

“that makes two of us, genius.” you respond, earning you a laugh from him. 

“i wanted it to land on me. i know it’s just a game, but really. i wanted it to be me.” satoru murmurs. 

you laugh. 

“okay, satoru. truth or dare. i can give you one right now.” you respond, giving him a peachy smile as you wait for him to respond. 

but he doesn’t. because all you see in the dim lamplight of the street is satoru, frowning at you. his eyes are expectant, but not waiting for an answer this time – but for you to understand what he was trying to say. 

that he wanted you to kiss him. 

it takes you five seconds. five seconds of bright blue eyes to get it. 

“oh.” you respond. 

you pause. 

“really?” you whisper. 

satoru shrugs. almost like he’s embarrassed. 

you lift your hands, gesturing for him to wait right there, as you duck into the car from the door that he opened, and reach over the seats for the water bottle that you left in there a few days ago. 

“fuck, ow.” you whisper. 

“are you okay?” satoru asks, leaning closer to peek his head through the door. 

“yeah. yeah. just looking for something.” 

you find it underneath the seat – a wrinkled mess of plastic from the heat and three sips of lukewarm water left. you push out of the car, holding up the little bottle in between the two of you, to which satoru gives you a confused look. 

“i wouldn’t drink that.” satoru responds. 

you shake your head, before crouching to the ground, and placing the bottle on the ground. you gesture for satoru to join you, the two of you hunching over with your heads pressed together. and you reach forward and spin the bottle, only for it to point towards the car. 

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” you murmur. 

you readjust the bottle, manually pointing it towards satoru, as you look back up at him and give him a smile. 

“i don’t get it.” satoru responds. 

“it landed on you.” you respond. 

you watch satoru’s throat bob. 

“what?” he whispers. 

“i spun. it landed on you.” you respond. 

you swear he’s blushing in the moonlight. 

“y/n.”

“are you going to kiss me, satoru?” you whisper. 

it’s a split second before satoru reaches forward, pulling you up by the wrists, and yanking you into the backseat of his car to do just that. you can taste the remnants of the cheap tequila on his lips, the feeling warm in your chest as he smiles – no, laughs – into the kiss. 

in the seconds that pass, you lean your forehead against satoru’s, the two of you lightly panting as you catch your breaths – his hands warm on your waist and yours underneath his biceps. 

“did you really pick me out of everyone to be your math tutor?” you whisper. 

satoru laughs. 

“i knew what i wanted. and i got her.” satoru whispers. 

you get signed on to a record label a year later, two months before you graduate high school. it breaks your heart to leave him behind when the fall comes around. 

--

four years later 

“did the tour bus get stalled?” you ask. 

yuki looks up from her clipboard, switching off the little knob on her earpiece, as she takes the open seat next to you. 

“yeah. they’ve got it stuck inside the fencing outside the stadium, they’re just trying to push it through now.” yuki responds. 

“can’t we just walk out to the car?” you ask. 

yuki shakes her head again. 

“fans go out the same way. if you want to avoid getting mobbed on the way out here, it’s best to wait.” yuki responds. 

“if we have to wait, i’m just going to go lie down in the dressing room. come get me when it’s here?” you ask. 

yuki gives you a nod as you walk off to the other side of the stadium, the heels of your feet aching from the high stiletto boots you were wearing breaking halfway through the performance, as you shake through the messy tresses of your hair. 

“it was so nice to meet you, man. you said she was over this way?” 

you feel your eyes widen as you turn your head to the left – to the voice that you can recognize anywhere – and feel a dry patch in your throat. at the sight of satoru, an obscenely tall version of satoru, standing three feet away from you, talking to one of the members of your crew. 

you watch as satoru gives a polite smile and walks down the way towards your dressing room, already six whole paces in front of you from how long his legs are now, as you follow behind him, wiping away the darkness of smudged makeup under your eyes and brushing down the beads of your dress. 

it can’t be him, can it? you desperately wished there was something else to wear besides the bedazzled bodysuit you were wearing currently. 

you watch as satoru knocks on your door, expectantly waiting for a response at the door, as he wipes his hands against the sides of his pants. and you walk up right behind him, nervously clearing your throat, as he turns around and gives you a wide smile. 

“ah. right, hi! i was just looking for you. my name is…” 

“satoru.” you finish. 

there was no way he thought you actually forgot him, did he? 

satoru unclenches his shoulders, an immediate pang of relief spreading through his face, as he gives you a smile – a dimple on the right and three freckles on the left – as you feel a pang of hurt in your chest. 

he looks good. he looks even better than you left him, his striking white hair longer than it was before and the smallest amount of wrinkles around his eyes. 

“you remember.” satoru responds. 

you bite on the inside of your cheek, to stop yourself from smiling at him fully. 

“do you just think i’m some asshole? we’ve gone to the same school since preschool.” you respond. 

satoru rolls his eyes at the words – the same ones he said years prior – as he crosses his hands over his chest. and you can’t help but contain your excitement and lean forward, a gesture he returns as you bury your face into the crook of his neck and squeeze hard. 

“satoru, oh my fucking god. you should have told me you were coming.” you respond, leaning back as he reaches up to cup the side of your cheek and smile down at you. 

“how could i?” he asks. 

“you could text me. i have a phone.” you joke. 

satoru gives you a smile. 

“you know, when you change your number, that means i can’t text you.” 

you groan, smacking your palm against your forehead. 

“shit. i totally forgot. i was just so stressed out at the time because…” 

“because someone leaked your phone number and people were calling you at every hour of the day. i know.” 

you feel your chest pang, mainly at the fact that satoru was here – that he thought you forgot him and, in earnest, you really had forgotten him. that he was keeping tabs, that he knew everything that you were up to in the years since you separated – from your phone number getting leaked to the fact that you were performing tonight – and you couldn’t say the same. 

you frown. 

“right. i’m sorry, i meant to give it to you, i just…” 

“were going through a lot at the time. first world tour, six grammy nominations, and some friends who weren’t the greatest, i gathered.” 

you sigh. 

“you don’t know the half of it.” you respond. 

satoru shakes his head. 

“i mean, i do. but i’d love to hear it from you, if…if you ever wanted to tell me?” satoru asks. 

he has that same look in his eyes. timid, expectant eyes, shy and waiting for an answer. 

“of course i would want to tell you.” you whisper. 

satoru smiles. 

“good. i’d love to hear it.” satoru responds. 

it doesn’t feel real. it doesn’t feel real that four year ago satoru kissed you in the moonlight on a horribly paved street, that you had to leave him behind on that same cobblestone four years ago, and now he’s standing in front of you – the two of you the same as before, satoru the same, maybe even better, than the way you left him. 

“what are you doing here, satoru?” you ask. 

he smiles, before reaching into his pocket, and pulling out two little pieces of paper. he hands them over to you, as you read the fine print. 

July 19th 

San Francisco Golden State Warriors versus Los Angeles Lakers 

“i’m the starting point guard for an nba basketball team. i promised you an invite to my first game.” he murmurs. 

you press the tickets close to your chest, as you give him a nod. 

“y/n. the tour bus is here!” yuki screams at the end of the hall, frantic hands waving you over, as you turn back to satoru with a pinched look. 

he smiles in response. 

“don’t worry. i’ll see you in a week.” he responds. 

--

the week that follows is agonizing. 

you scavenge every corner of the internet to find out everything about him known to the public. where he lives, what he’s been up to, what team he plays for. 

he’s the starting point guard for the lakers, his hometown team for where he’s lived for the past four years. it seems that he had made his escape from the suburbs around the same time that you had, by playing division one basketball at the university of southern california, before getting a straight bid into the nba. 

he’s the youngest starting point guard in history. he’s broken his own all time record multiple times and was one of the youngest people to get signed on with the league. 

he likes to cook. suguru made his way onto the team with him. the two of them are a dynamic duo – famous for their hilarious interviews. he’s a father. he adopted two kids that lived in his neighborhood after their dad tragically passed away – megumi and tsumiki. 

and most of all, he’s the same as you left him. because in every interview you watch, you hear the same thing. 

“satoru, which artist is on your pregame playlist?” 

“if you could go to any concert, which would it be?” 

“who do you dream to collaborate with in the future?” 

it’s the same answer every time. 

y/n l/n, of course. 

you can hear his voice in your head already. 

i knew what i wanted. and i got her. 

--

the stadium is an overstimulating amount of loud – something exacerbated by how nervous you are – as you walk down the steps to the court, stomach erupting into a nervous mess of butterflies. 

satoru gifted you courtside seats to the opening game. and if he was going to follow suit like he always did, his kids would be sitting right next to you, dead center to watch him play. 

you catch sight of his white tufts of hair at the center of the court, fans in the stands excitedly pointing at him practicing free throws with his teammates, and snapping pictures. you see a group of girls in his jersey giggling at the side, zooming in to take photos and loudly talking about how hot he looked when he pushed his hair back with a headband during the game. 

girls on twitter loved the headband. it seemed that among most things, one thing never changed – how much people adored satoru. 

as you get closer to the lights, you can tell that people notice your attendance, hushed whispers and pointed fingers at you as you make your way down to the waxed court, your shoes clicking on the wood, as you walk over to your seat. 

you hope satoru doesn’t think it’s too forward that you decided to wear his jersey – with his last name spelled out on the back – as you take a seat. 

you wipe your sweaty hands on the pleats of your white tennis skirt, fiddling with the beaded bracelet on your hands, as one of satoru’s teammates eyes widen at the sight of you, before they all but run over to smack him across the shoulder. 

satoru looks over at you, giving you a soft smile, as he drops the ball and starts making strides over to where you’re sitting. you can feel your cheeks burning as you stand up, waiting for him to fully approach and he does the same thing he used to – wrapping his hands around your wrists as he leans forward, the smallest sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

“i’d hug you, but i’m a little gross right now, brainiac.” he murmurs. 

you shake your head. 

“no problem. these are nice seats.” 

he smiles. 

“i’d let you bring a friend, but i had to save –” 

“the other two tickets for your kids. megumi and tsumiki. they’re your neighbor's kids, who you adopted after their dad passed away.” you finish. 

satoru widens his eyes, before poking his tongue in the side of his cheek, and giving you a grin. 

“did your research, did you?” 

you shrug. 

“i did. but i’d love to hear about it, if you’ll tell me...” you respond. 

satoru laughs. 

“tsumiki is a really big fan. megumi doesn’t believe me when i said that you and i used to date, but he doesn’t believe anything i say anyways. they’re my favorite people in the world. and i love to make dad jokes.” satoru responds. 

you smile. of course he does. 

“i’m excited to meet them. i’ll give tsumiki a whole personal concert. signed cds or vinyls, whatever you want.” you state. 

“i’d withhold that for now. i think she’s going to have a heart attack from excitement all at once when she realizes daddy is dating her idol.” 

you feel like you’re in high school. you feel like it’s thursday after lunch and satoru’s walking you to class, making jokes about how the two of you are going to end up together. saying you’re troy and gabriella, about how no one will understand each other like you, about how you’re going to be at the halftime show performance at his championship game. 

“one last thing.” satoru states. 

“what’s that?” 

he reaches into the pocket of his shorts, procuring a set of blue earplugs and placing them in the palm of your hand. 

“i remember you hate how loud it can get. and this is going to be ten times worse than our shitty school gym, so wear these.” satoru states. 

you can’t help but frown at the thoughtfulness, looking back up at the bright smile he’s giving you, before squeezing his hand. satoru leans forward and pinches the softness of your cheek, before running back to the center of the court and practicing with the team. 

you can tell that some of them are jeering at him – giggling behind him as he shoots from different parts of the court, and you memorize the permanent smile that seems to be etched on to his face. suguru gives you a wave, before blowing you a kiss, which earns him a hard shove from satoru on the court. 

--

two months later, the two of you follow the same routine. satoru travels around the country for his games. you do the same for your tours – and whenever the cities overlap, which coincidentally every week they almost do – the two of you get dinner, eat breakfast. he insists on sleeping on his couch so you can take his bed, but you convince him to stay and just share.  

satoru says the overlap is fate. you tell him that he’s ridiculous. he says that it has to be fate – that you have to be meant to be, because you get back into it just as quickly as the two of you fell into it. 

satoru tells you that he’s proud of you. your fans post videos of him at your shows – bright smiles on his face as he sings along to all of the words of your songs. you decide to surprise him at the third show he comes to, by singing his favorite song – you belong with me. you both joke about how mei mei is pissed wherever she is. 

you tell satoru that you’re proud of him too. you watch every game courtside and really, are just in awe of him as you are when you were seventeen, blue paint splattered on your cheeks as you cheer him on – the muffled sounds of the crowd in your ears. you always carry three pairs of ear plugs, the extra two for megumi and tsumiki. 

you think you love him. you think you always will. you realize that no one was ever going to have your heart like he did. 

satoru has a home game in los angeles in late august. and his manager invites you to the afterparty two minutes away from the stadium, your transportation arranged with megumi and tsumiki. 

you think they’re adorable. you think satoru is the best dad. 

at a whopping seven years old, tsumiki reminds you of satoru. full of energy and light, she talks a hundred words per minute. the second you walk into the afterparty, you watch as she beelines to the big group of people, suguru quickly picking her up as she starts chattering loudly. 

megumi’s the opposite. a little shy for his age, you swear that he squeezes your hand harder as you stand at the doorway of the crowded room. and true to satoru’s words – he really didn’t believe that you and satoru used to be friends, let alone date, but states that it must be because satoru did some black magic on you. 

he makes jokes like that all the time. 

“you okay?” you ask. 

“yeah. have you seen my dad?” he asks. 

you frown. 

“no.” 

megumi gives you a halfhearted sigh. 

“okay.” 

megumi gets nervous. the only people he feels comfortable around are satoru and tsumiki. 

“you know, your dad never changes. he used to do this to me all the time too.” you state. 

“do what?” 

“drag me to parties. it’s not really my scene.” 

megumi smiles. 

“really?” 

you nod. 

“i wouldn’t even know most of the people there. one time he took me to the birthday party of a girl who literally hated me.” 

megumi laughs. 

“of course he did. some romantic he makes himself out to be. but really, i don’t care. i just hate waiting for tsumiki to come back.” megumi states. 

you smile in response. 

“well, how about we wait in the kitchen? there’ll be less people there.” 

you tug megumi along to the kitchen, quickly lifting him to sit on the counter, as you rummage through the fridge – trying to catch your breath from whatever alternate universe you’re living in. 

you’re in satoru’s house, with all of his friends. his kids seem to like you. he scored the most points out of the game, including the winning shot with six seconds left on the scoreboard. you have no idea where he is or what you’re doing right now or – 

“hi.” 

you slam the door shut, only to find suguru getou towering over you, with a smile on his face. 

“hi.” you respond, reaching up to tuck the hair behind your ears as you take a step back. 

“it’s been a long time, girl scout.” 

you try to stifle your sigh. 

“sure has been.” you respond. 

“satoru’s really keen on hiding you away.” 

you awkwardly nod, twisting the silver rings on your hands, as you give him a smile. 

“we’re just getting to know each other, that's all.” you respond. 

suguru widens his eyes. 

“what is there to find out? you’ve known each other since you were toddlers.” suguru responds. 

you shrug. 

“i don’t know. a lot of time has passed.” you murmur. 

suguru pinches his eyes shut, in frustration. 

“you’d think that would make the two of you more eager.” he responds. 

“what do you mean?” 

“if it were me, if i felt the way the two of you obviously do, then i’d get a move on. i’d be unable to contain it.” 

you glare. 

“you don’t know how we feel. and there’s a lot on the line here.” 

suguru crosses his arms over his chest. 

“do you like him?” suguru asks. 

“what?” 

“because he loves you. basketball has always been his dream, but even more so when he realized that it would be a reason to talk to you again. he’s listened to all of your albums the second they came out, seen you perform every time you came around these parts, and cursed the hell out of every movie star asshole who has talked shit about you publicly or hurt your feelings.” suguru responds. 

you sigh. 

“i’ll ask you again. do you like him? because he. loves. you. you make him so nervous that he won’t make the first move, just like he wouldn’t when you were sixteen.” 

“of course i do. i –” 

“do i need to threaten to kiss you again?” suguru asks. 

it’s right at that second that satoru parades into the kitchen and you can tell from the way that he yanks suguru back by the year that he only heard the very end of the conversation. 

“that joke doesn’t get any funnier the fifth time you say it.” satoru seethes. 

“get a move on before i do, dumbass.” suguru responds, giving satoru one last shove before walking off. 

you don’t have time to think about his words, but one thought crosses your mind – that suguru might have been so insistent at that party all of those years ago, because he knew it would push something forward between the two of you. 

he sure had a strange way of being a wingman. 

at the sight of satoru, megumi’s holding his little hands out – something satoru obliges to as he picks him up – before turning over to face you. 

“do you want me to kill him?” he asks. 

you smile. 

“i know he’s just kidding.” you respond. 

satoru rolls his eyes. 

“i was kind of hoping you would say yes.” 

“did you used to date suguru too?” megumi asks. 

you widen your eyes. 

“absolutely not. just your dad, no one else.” you respond. 

“god megumi, that’s not just something that you can ask someone.” tsumiki murmurs, padding into the kitchen with pink cheeks, as she wraps her arm around your leg. 

you return the affection, reaching down to push her bangs away from her forehead, as you look back at satoru. he stares a little too long, before looking over at megumi and whispering. 

“can you and tsumiki take a walk real quick?” 

megumi gives him a nod as satoru sets him down, the two of them walking away hand in hand to the other side of the room, as satoru turns back to you, reaching forward to wrap his hands around your wrists. 

“hey.” he whispers. 

“hi.” you whisper back. 

he leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. 

“did you enjoy the game?” 

“sure did. tsumiki and i shared rainbow airheads. and megumi gave me a really big hug after you won, which almost made me cry.” you respond. 

“i’ll say. i almost cried when i saw all three of you hugging on the jumbotron.” 

you lean forward, pressing yourself against his chest, as you link your arms together behind his back. you can hear suguru’s words racing through your mind – if it were me i wouldn’t be able to contain it, do you like him? because he loves you – and it makes your skin burn. 

“hey. you okay?” satoru asks. 

you say the only thing that you can think of. 

“yeah. i’m just…really happy..” you whisper. 

satoru pinches your cheek.

“me too.” he responds.  

“ever since i left, my life has changed, so drastically, so quickly. i went from being a girl from a small suburb in new york to being someone that…that a lot of people knew about. wanted to know about. sometimes this stuff makes me feel like i’m not really that person anymore.” 

you pause. 

“but every time you look at me i can…i do feel like that again. like someone who was in high school, who hated school dances, and did the morning announcements. someone who loved you. who was with you.” 

you sigh. 

“no one’s ever had me like you. i don’t know if you’re joking when you say it, but it really is fate. you really are….are my soulmate or my invisible string or whatever. you…you’re it for me.” 

satoru lets go of your wrists, before reaching for the closest cupboard and reaching for a bottle, and placing it flat on the floor. he’s crouching on his knees, your chest so full of love you can barely stomach it, as he gestures for you to crouch on the floor close to him, his cheeks pink in the light. 

you watch as he spins the bottle, only for it to miss and land on the fridge. 

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me...” satoru responds. 

he reaches forward, twisting the bottle so it faces you, before looking at you expectantly. the same way he looked every other time – waiting for you to tell him what your dream job was, waiting for you to kiss him, and now waiting for you to confess for a second time. 

“are you going to kiss me, y/n?” 

you whisper it against his lips. 

“guess what?” 

“what?” 

“i knew what i wanted. and i got him.” 

--

an: our very first ttpd gojo as taylor <3 this post was sponsored by @yuutito, @neptuneblue, and @um-no-ok through my participation in fics for gaza! thank you so much for donating - I hope you liked the piece!!! i went a little bit over the promised wordcount as I started writing, but left it as is to be posted since we met the goal. a reminder that i'm still taking submissions for my wips (i'll be putting a new one up) and for requests!

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[queenariesofnarnia]

whiskey and jazz

gif not mine!

alastor x f!reader

warning: i wrote this at like 3am when i couldn't sleep and i feel like its ass

wc: 771

Your laughter fills the room as you sit at the bar telling stories from your days on earth. Even managing to make Husk chuckle at your antics. It was nice to have a peaceful night after you had to make Charlie take a break. Sending her and Vaggie on a nice date. Sir Pentious began to tell a story from his time on earth. You loved moments like this, Angel being able to not worry about working for his twat of a boss and even Niffty with everyone enjoying a little break. However, you worried Alastor could be lonely so you were going to take some fun to him. 

“Husk, give me a whiskey and two glasses” you say while hopping off your chair. 

“Where you going kid?” he asks handing you what you asked for. 

“To see if Alastor is up for some company. He deserves a break too.” you smile before wishing everyone to continue to have fun. 

“We’ll be here if he says no toots! Good luck” Angel’s comment reaches your ears before you head to Alastor’s tower. The “on-air” sign is off but there’s soft jazz playing indicating he’s inside. Knocking softly on the door you stand there silently hoping he opens it. When he does he looks down at you. His smile not leaving his face.  

“What can I do for you sweetheart?” he asked stepping aside directing you to enter. 

“I wanted to see if you’re up for company. I brought whiskey” you grin at him holding up the bottle. Making your way to the loveseat, sitting the bottle and glasses down on the table. 

“I will always accept your company sweetheart. Take a seat” closing the door. He makes his way to sit next to you on the loveseat. He pours you both a glass. Enjoying each other’s company as you nursed your drink. 

“Could you tell me a little something about when you were alive?” your question catching Alastor off guard. You cared about knowing what he did when he was alive?

“Why of course my dear. I enjoyed cooking with my mother, especially jambalaya.” he told you as he remembers those times. There’s a softness in your eyes as you look at him while he talks. 

“That’s lovely Alastor. Truly” your smile was what he needed. He was frustrated while planning his broadcast and your company came at the perfect time. He told you more about his life until a tune by Louis Armstrong and his Hot Five played through the radio filling the room. He finished his glass before standing up holding his hand out toward you. 

“Care for a dance sweetheart?” you threw your drink back before taking his hand. He pulled you up towards him directing you on how to dance. One song turned into two, and two eventually turned into five. The smile on your face as he twirled you around the room made him not want to stop dancing with you. When the two of you finally sat back down another glass was poured and handed your way. 

“I talked about myself sweetheart. It is only fair you tell me about yourself” He says leaning back, spreading his legs slightly. You begin thinking of something good to tell him. 

“I’m sure you’ve noticed but I cook or bake whenever I feel overwhelmed. I’ve been doing it since I was old enough to be in the kitchen by myself.” he nods, wanting you to continue. 

You told him some of your fond memories. Neither of you noticing how late it has gotten. Just sharing stories with one another, to his surprise you asked him about his serial killer days. There was a sparkle in your eyes when you listened to every word he said. He noticed it whenever the two of you spoke. He could also see how tired you were. 

“It looks like sleep is calling your name cher” his tone soft, well soft for him. 

“I’ll be fine. I want to hear more of your stories Al” you tell him covering your mouth to yawn. 

“Find me when you wake up and join me for coffee.” He said standing up bringing you up with him. He brought you close before dissolving into his shadow and ending up in your room. 

“Good night my dear” he placed a kiss on top of your head before guiding you to your bed. As you lay down you reach for his hand giving it a light squeeze. 

“Goodnight Al” you let go of his hand snuggling into your blankets. He left your room with a genuine smile on his face. 

[missmarveledsblog]

Not just a flower child huh? ( logan howlett x reader ) part two

summary : as y/n adjusting to the mansion and being free , the resident do little things to help some work more than others, a surprise from the professor has her wondering if it all real . the one in charge of the lab show up not happy his asset is gone while the scientists wonder if they will ever be free

warning: nightmare of a traumatic past , some angst not much , mainly fluff , one minor character death set in the early oo's Xmen era but may be modernised . grammatical errors ( sorry )

( part one here )

A month since she woke in a too bright lab , in a place safe for her kind it was almost like everyday she was waiting for the penny to drop.  Many years almost decades of being locked in cells and cages like an animal it was hard to adjust to the idea of being free. Being able to maneuver so freely , going to from one part of the mansion to the other  almost like she was testing the waters of it all .  Even having her brother in her life again was surreal it was , talking to basically a ghost is what both thought at one point and yet he was really there . being in a place filled with others like herself was scary she watched  “ her” kids like hawks making sure  it was truly save and yet seeing them smile  wild and get  things she tried and failed to give them in captivity was something she would be forever grateful for .

Nights though they were the worse , took weeks for her to get used to having a bed nevermind the room . every time her eyes closed they would open and she was back there.  She could even smell the damp and the mold , she felt the coldness of the bars near her skin making her shoot up in the bed . panting as tears fell down her face and the sweat pumped through ever pore on her body , she could still hear their screams  in her head .  she would try calm down  , lay her head on the pillow but it was useless as it always was . she got out of the bed and headed out the door letting her feet pad along the hardwood floor , til she would be standing in the kitchen filling a mug with water stirring her finger around til the steam bellowed  from the ceramic throwing the tea bag in . she turned to the window letting the tea stew a little and cool on its own . she stared up at the night sky watching the stars twinkle , something she barely ever remembered seeing that when she did it felt almost magical . she could sense him coming ,  that same smell of cigars and whiskey , an oaky sort of musk but yet her eye remained looking out the window. 

“ don’t you ever sleep” she asked only to hear a light chuckle and the refrigerator to open . 

“ could say same about you flower power” logan watched her , it seem to almost be routine the two had gotten themself in  but he didn’t mind it  usually he would of but not with her. 

“ can’t sleep” she turned not caring if he could see the red and puffiness of her eyes . 

“ you look like you could use something stronger than tea” he turning to the refrigerator. “ wait you old enough to drink?” he pause looking at her. 

“ i’m old enough , not you old  but i am old enough to drink in your country” she shook her head hiding the little smile that was fighting to come out. “ i’m good with the tea though” she blew it letting it cool quicker as he took a seat across from her holding his bottle out. She took it easily letting a light ice cast over the bottle . 

“ i forget your like a bag of tricks” he chuckled taking a swig letting the now ice cold liquid slide down his throat. 

“ a very useless one” she scoffed drinking the tea ever so often her eyes would glance to the window. 

“ those kid would disagree” he countered . 

“ the ones that didn’t make would agree” she stood walking off cup in hand as he heard her steps up the stairs . he knew that feeling all to well but she of all people didn’t deserve to feel it . 

The morning she sat as everyone was busy with lessons and their own things which meant peace to read the books ororo handed her although she had a feeling her brother played more part in it  but nonetheless she loved the little gift . then she could sense a headache coming it wasn’t that she disliked him , it was more he was well annoying .  she caught him looking at book to deal with traumatized youths a rather outdated version of it at that . 

“ hey kid what you reading , oh the professor want to see you in the garden at lunch time” scott sat near her as jean watched from the door way . 

“ you know i gotta say kiddo your so smart and cool” he began as her eyes rolled. 

“ why do you talk to me like a puppy” she kept her eyes on her book. “ should i talk to you like you are golden retriever” she asked only to hear a muffled laugh. 

“ jesus you make logan seem like sunshine , you have a pretty smile you should do that more” he said trying to keep strong but even jean knew what was coming as y/n looked at him a flick of her hand the vines held him on to the chair. 

“ stay .. good boy … grey you have my sympathy “ she passed the giggle redhead as logan joined them at the door.    “ here’s the doberman .. why are you so muddy” she grimace heading off where ever. 

“ someone gonna help me” scott called. 

“ she right you do talk to her like a puppy” jean walked over to her boyfriend. 

“ the book said positivity would help” he sighed. 

“ it’s nice your trying but your more annoying her then helping her just talk to her like a person and she’ll come around” she kissed his head. 

“ he annoys us all i don’t think it gonna work” logan snorted admiring the view of scott being tied to the sofa.

“ your funny really become a comedian but before then help me here” scott huffed. 

“ she not wrong you are like a gold retriever and you are like a doberman” jean laughed . 

“ it’s an upgrade from what she called me before “ scott smiled a small victory . 

“ what she call you before?” logan asked confused. 

“ annoying asshole” scott and jean said in unison. 

She walked to the door her eyes watching as the kids of the  mansion played not a care in the world , one thing in the month of being there this was a first stepping outside.  She felt ridiculous it shouldn’t feel so hard to do something so simple. She looked down to see a gloved hand outstretched toward her looking up to see the kind smile  of the woman with the white streak in her hair . 

“ ain’t nothing out here that’s gonna hurt you unless some of the guys go shirtless that is  , you don’t have to come out i can get professor come to you or you can hold my hand til you feel comfortable enough to let go” rogue smiled . 

“ i am not scared” y/n defensively  said . 

“ i know that nothing scary here” rogue smiled as the woman took her hand . 

She took a deep breathe before standing out  letting her bare feet touch the stone til they walked little by little to the grass it been so long since she felt the grass it was so foreign and yet so welcome as the too walked through the garden. 

“ i like your dress it’s pretty on you” rogue said breaking the silence. 

“ it’s too big but it’s hot today” y/n dismissed the compliment looking down at the white sundress that she wore . 

“ still you look pretty” rogue shrugged . 

“ i um like your hair” Y/n finally said . 

“ why thank you  , look you ever feel bored or anything  come hang out with me no pressure though” rogue patted her hand. 

“ hanging out ?” she asked her head tilting. 

“ you know like talking or doing something reading or something like that  i got some magazines that are cool” rogue explain softly. 

“  y/n dear thank you for meeting me out here” charles called out . 

“ offer stands , want me to wait here or you good?” 

“ i’m good” y/n nodded as the other woman waved heading off toward the mansion . 

“ you wanted to see me?” she asked . 

“ yes i do , i want to show you something , oh and y/n could you stop tying down my xmen” he chuckled . 

“ i’ll try not too but scotts annoying” she shrugged a small giggle slipping out of her mouth . 

“ just over here ,  see this is greenhouse i was telling you about  i wanted to show it to you now i know i said you could help the plants but if you would like to just come here to read that is perfectly fine i know it can get loud in the evenings so we thought you might enjoy the quiet and if you would like to plant well you can it’s your to use” he smiled handing her the key. 

“ why are you so nice “ her head tilted . 

“ because theres been enough people treating us unfairly for too long” he patted her hand as the two headed into the green house.  

As she unlocked the door instantly seeing a little nook with the books she like to read as well as chairs and small table that had her preferred tea sitting upon it . she walked down the aisle  her eyes wide in wonder and yet a warm feeling spread through her body as she took it all in . the plants around her springing to life  and a genuine smile taking it place on her face. 

“ i take it you like it , your brother and logan helped tidy it up” he took note of how vibrant the colors of the plants around her were  and it matched the smile on her face . 

“ i love it” she laughed wondering if it was all truly a dream . “ thank you professor” she walked over hugging the man tightly . 

“ you are welcome dear i shall leave you to  enjoy you peace” he held her hand little tighter before leaving . she must of walked around three or four times taking it in , looking out the large glass windows probably first time in her life she finally fell free .

He stood watching as she walked around  wide eyes filled with awe and wonder . something about this one was different , she held his attention from the moment he saw her laid out in that cage or even when she had him tied to a wall the day she woke up.  He went to the kitchen knowing she would be there and at first they would sit in silence , then she would make small quips about him never sleeping . slowly she was opening up in fact the night before was first time she even mentioned anything of her past . maybe it was because  she was the only one in the mansion who could even close to knowing how he felt when it came to the past . yeah they all had some rough story of life before they came to charles xavier's school for gifted youngster but not as much as she had. He also like she didn’t candy coat everything but yet she wasn’t mean  yeah she and scott had there back and forth but it was more playful than anything their was never a malice intent in her teasing of the man . she was so sweet to the kids to and not just the ones that came with her , she went out of her way to help them if they needed it . logan couldn’t help being drawn to her . this was first time he’d seen her genuinely smile too . 

“ thank you” she said passing by him almost startling him he was so lost in thought he didn’t notice her leave the greenhouse . 

 “ for what ?” he quirked his brow. 

“For being muddy” she called waving her hand only for him to feel a little weight on his head . 

He could help chuckle when he reached up feeling the petal he took it off his head seeing the flower crown in his hands. 

They fucked up , or so he wanted the others to think so . DR.Thompson stood as his colleges and fellow scientist bill and frank paced the room . both muttering and mumbling about losing the asset it made him sick when they referred to them that way , even worse when they called them the subjects . the doors burst open as the three men jumped back watching the agents fill the room  guns on display  a clear scare tactic that was working too well . 

“ now since i’m here would someone wanna explain how my best subject is gone “ the booming voice called before appearing in the archway of the door. 

“ sir with all due respect we were getting no where once the kids came she got more defiant , it was a lost cause we were going to dispose of them  “ frank spoke up a shaking and tremble to his voice . 

“ On who’s order was it to do such thing because i don’t recall giving it” the man stood almost toe to toe with him . 

“ mine , stryker sir it was a dead end project , we couldn’t do what we were suppose to , she wouldn’t let up and we couldn’t sedate her it wore off to quick we lost too many men” bill stood forward . 

“ so your giving orders now huh,  is this your project or is it mine , am i not the one who pays you and your teams well to get the job done” he growled . 

Doctor thompson knew he was next , maybe they already knew he was the one who tipped them off , he couldn’t sit idly by it was too cruel actually it was beyond cruel watching them trying to break her down. The screams of the  kid they did get haunted him and seeing her so defeated afterward he saw it all every time he closed his eyes .  the sounds of the back and forth and the footsteps of colonel william stryker came before him . the click of a trigger and bang that followed feeling the warm splash of blood on his face thompson opened his eyes , turning to see bill on the ground the blood pouring from the mans head. 

“ now when we get her back you will do as your told and finish the project you are set to do or you will be joining him do i make myself clear” he spat. 

“ y-y-ye-yes s-s-sir” thompson nodded shaking like a leaf  watching as the colonel and his men walked out the room leaving them standing in disbelief he was almost found out . 

“ we can’t fail again once they get her , we’re using the prototype it our only shot of staying alive” frank whispered before he ran to the closest bin puking his guts out . 

Dr. thompson wondered if he would ever get out of this mess but he hope more they didn’t get her again it would be dire if they did succeed . 

part three

[vodika-vibes]

A Marriage Of Convenience

Summary: You and Kix have been friends for years, since near the start of the war to be more precise. So, when you ask him to marry you, in the hopes that a legal wedding would finally give him and his brothers the rights that they deserve, he jumped at the chance. It worked. And now, four years later, with the war over, you’re still happily married to your best friend.

Pairing: Clone Medic Kix x F!Reader

Word Count: 1298

Warnings: Some miscommunication

Tagging: @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-Loves-Star-Wars @tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar @trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435

@etod @n0vqni

A/N: So this whole idea was born from the many asks I got on Saturday about this very topic. Also, I'm feeling much better, it seems like my fever finally broke late last night. Maybe. I haven't actually checked, lol.

Kix wakes slowly, taking his time to fight off the claws of sleep that want to drag him back into dreamland.

Not that there’s any reason for him to be awake, he’s not a soldier anymore and the clinic is closed today, so he could sleep in if he wanted to. But, even now, years after the war sleeping in feels wrong to him. 

So he lays in bed and blinks hazily at the ceiling, waiting to wake up enough that he’s able to roll over and look at his comm to make sure none of his brothers did something stupid last night.

Kix is about to roll out of bed, intent on starting his normal routine— an hour-long run, and then showering before making breakfast— when he hears a groan from next to him. 

His riduur is slowly waking up, and he can’t stop the smile that crosses his face at the sight of her lying there. Her hair is a mess, sticking up in random directions, and curling into her face. 

She blinks at him blearily, “Kix?”

“Good morning, riduur,” He sits up and leans over to brush a curl off her face, only for it to spring right back into place, and he has to muffle his laughter. “Your hair has taken on a life of its own.”

“S’alright,” She mumbles, “It does that sometimes.” She yawns widely, and Kix feels his heart clench. She really is unfairly adorable. Good thing he’s already locked her down and he doesn’t have to worry about anyone stealing her from him.

“You can go back to sleep, riduur,” Kix says lightly as he lightly pushes her hair out of her face so he can see her pretty eyes, “It’s early.”

“You’re awake,” She accuses as she rubs her cheek against his hand.

“I have a thing about sleeping in,” Kix replies, “You know this, cyar’ika.”

She squints at him, “Someday, I’m going to make one of your brothers tell me what those words mean,”

He leans in as if to share a secret, “They’ll never tell you because I’m scarier than you are.”

She pouts at him, and it’s almost enough to make him want to tell her what riduur and cyar’ika and cyare mean. Almost.

“Kix,” She whines his name and it takes all of his willpower to keep breathing, “We should sleep some more.”

“Cyare,” He teases her, “I’m going to go for a run.”

Somehow, her pout becomes more pronounced, “But sleep.”

“I’m not stopping you from sleeping in, cyar’ika.” Kix reassures, “And I’m certainly not going to force you to go on a run with me.”

“Good. If you did I’d ask for a divorce.”

“Ouch.” Kix replies with a laugh, “No need to worry, riduur, I know you’re allergic to running.”

“I’m only going to run if someone is chasing me,” She yawns again and buries her face in her pillow, her gaze locked on his face.

“Good to know.” Kix watches her watching him, and he raises a single brow, “Why are you staring?”

She grins at him and sits up suddenly, flinging her arms around his neck and knocking him back onto the bed.

It’s so surprising that a startled laugh falls from him, “Riduur—”

She buries her face in his neck and drapes one of her legs across his hips, her arms tightening around him, “There. Now we sleep.” Her breath is warm against his neck and Kix shivers, unable to help himself.

Slowly his arms wrap around her, one of his hands tangling in her hair, while the other slowly strokes her back, “Someone’s clingy this morning.” He murmurs in her ear.

“I’m clingy every morning,” She replies as she rubs her nose against his neck, “You just normally get up before I can be clingy.”

Kix hums thoughtfully and then shifts his head so that his nose is pressed into her hair. She smells citrusy, a mix of her shampoo, body wash, and the lotion she prefers. It’s a scent that he’s come to associate with her and with safety.

It’s a scent he’s come to associate with love. His love for her, to be more specific.

Kix doesn’t say anything for a moment, and he’s almost positive that she’s fallen back to sleep while half lying on him, until her fingers curl into the thin material of the shirt he wears to bed.

“What’s up, cyare?” Kix asks as he glances down to try and see her face.

She shifts so that her face isn’t buried in his neck, and the expression on her face isn’t one he’s ever seen before. It’s soft and warm and makes goosebumps spread across his entire body.

“Kix,” His name is a sigh on her lips and his arms tighten around her, pulling a startled squeak from her. A smile spreads across her face and she shifts so she’s able to press her hand against his cheek.

Kix closes his eyes and leans into her touch.

“I’ve been thinking,” She murmurs.

“About?” She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Kix opens his eyes to look at her, her expression has become slightly wistful as she gazes up at him, “Cyare?”

“This whole thing started as a way to get you all rights,” She murmurs, “And it worked. You’re all legal citizens of the Republic.” She pauses her thumb lightly trailing against his jaw, “If…if you wanted a divorce,” She says quietly, “So you can find someone you actually love—”

“Stop.” Kix interrupts and she immediately falls silent. He slowly moves his hands to cup her face, “I want you. Only you.”

She blinks at him, and then she huffs, “You don’t love me, Kix—”

“Says who?”

She blinks at him dumbly, “What?”

“Who says I don’t love you?”

“...General Skywalker said that the marriage was—”

“I haven’t spoken to Skywalker since the war ended. How would he know?” Kix points out.

She blinks at him again.

Kix sighs, “Listen to me, riduur. Are you listening?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you. I’ve loved you for ages. And it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way. I’m happy with how we are. I absolutely do not want a divorce.”

“...you don’t?”

“No, I don’t.”

She shifts slightly so that she’s lying on top of him, her gaze scanning his face as if trying to determine if he’s lying to her or not. And then she releases a soft sigh and she leans in to press her forehead against his, “You love me?”

Kix smiles at her, “You single-handedly won rights for me and my brothers. How could I not love you?”

“Not single-handedly.”

“Close enough.” He counters dismissively.

A soft laugh falls from her lips, and Kix can’t help the small grin that crosses his face at the sound. 

And then, quickly, she presses her lips against his.

It’s the first time they’ve kissed since their wedding day and Kix immediately leans into the kiss, allowing her to set the pace. And when she breaks the kiss, she looks flustered and she won’t meet his gaze.

It takes him a few moments to reset his brain and his grin is broad, “Does this mean that all talks of divorce are off the table?”

She shifts and presses her face against his throat, but he feels her nod.

“Good.” Kix tightens his arms around her and adjusts her so that she’s lying on the bed again. “I suppose I little early morning cuddling would be good for us.”

She peeks up at him, a small grin playing on her lips.

Later he’ll comm Rex and get him to find out what, exactly, Skywalker said to his perfect riduur, but for now, she deserves all of his attention. And she’s going to get it.

[starsstuddedsky]

Blonde Phase

Renjun x gn reader

summary: spontaneous hair decisions always end in regret. that's what you expect to hear when you tell renjun you're bleaching your hair, but instead you find support, and even his help. you should appreciate his wholehearted support but instead it has you wondering: why doesn't he care?

genre: fluff, minimal angst, technically they're in grad school but that's not particularly relevant, non idol au,

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, spontaneous hair decisions (i do not endorse), lmk if I missed any

wc: 4.4k

a/n: in the immortal words of charles boyle, the most intimate thing you can do with a lover is wash their hair. yknow i made fun of him for that until i wrote this. i see it. also its been so long since ive finishing anything, pls forgive me if this is bad. renjun i love u. as always I'd love to hear what you think <3

“I’m bleaching my hair.” If you say it fast enough, Renjun won’t be able to talk you out of it. The plastic bag swings around your wrist as you walk across the parking lot. “I’ve already bought the bleach and gloves and stuff, and I’m going to do it, today.”

He’s quiet for so long you check to make sure the call hasn’t dropped. “Okay.”

You almost drop your phone. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, drawing the word out. “Was I supposed to say something else?”

“Um, yeah?” You say. “You have opinions about literally everything. You talked me out of buying those pants two days ago.” You finally get to your car, tossing the bag onto the passenger seat and half-falling behind the wheel.

“That’s because they were made of polyester, and the thrift store was still charging $15,” he says immediately. “That was a scam.”

“Money is temporary, drip is forever.”

“Those pants would have lasted a year max, before they fell apart, and you still haven’t learned how to sew so you wouldn’t even be able to mend them or upcycle them.”

“You know what, I didn’t buy the pants, so this fight is moot,” you say. You set the phone on speaker, turning the engine on to blast the AC.

“Well, not moot. Technically I won,” Renjun says.

“I’d respect you more if you weren’t insufferable.”

“Here I was thinking you appreciated my insight,” he says. “You even asked for it.”

“I did not!”

“You literally asked about bleaching your hair.”

“I said I was surprised you didn’t have an opinion, not that I wanted to hear it,” you say.

“Semantics,” Renjun says. “So what time do you want to come over?”

You frown. “Tonight?”

“The roommates are out of town for the whole weekend, and I have way better ventilation,” he says. “I’d much rather bleach it without passing out.” He pauses. “You do want help, right?”

“Honestly, I was not expecting support. I was fully ready to fight you on this,” you say.

He snorts. “Come over whenever, I'm not doing anything today.”

“See you in twenty minutes.” You hang up, feeling a strange ball of tension roll around in your gut. That was… too easy? Renjun always has something to say about your admittedly impulsive tendencies. But if he’s going to help you’re not going to reject it—knowing Renjun he’s probably already watching Youtube videos and learning more than you will ever know about bleaching hair.

And it’s Renjun. When have you done anything without his help?

.

.

Renjun opens the door wearing a wearied expression. He doesn’t bother to greet you or even smile, just unlocks the door and steps to the side.

“Hi to you, too,” you say, trading your shoes for the spare slippers resting by the doormat. You follow Renjun into the space that serves as kitchen, dining room, living room, and Jaemin’s miniature gym, with weights and mats stacked next to the television.

“Who the hell clogs a toilet and then leaves for the weekend,” Renjun says.

You set down your plastic bag full of hair products and frown. “That’s disgusting.”

Renjun leans against the counter. “And you didn’t have to spend the last forty minutes trying to unclog it.”

“So which of the guys are you going to murder?” You try to guess, running through his roommates: you find it hard to believe Jaemin would do such a thing. Jeno maybe, and Donghyuck would certainly think it’s funny. But, in all honesty, it could have been any of them.

“Don’t know,” Renjun says, “but knowing them, they’ll make a pact to protect each other.”

“Seriously?”

Renjun pauses, gaze sheepish. “It’s what I did when I accidentally killed Jaemin’s little succulent that survived his college dorm.”

You fake a gasp, placing a hand over your chest. “Every day I learn something new about you. That’s devious.”

“I was drunk!” Renjun says, holding up a finger. “And Jeno and Donghyuck pushed me into it, so it was equally their fault.”

“If you say so.” You glance around the apartment. “Where are they all?”

“Jaemin’s visiting family, Jeno has a soccer tournament, and Donghyuck said he’s going camping with Yangyang.” Renjun says, counting off with his fingers.

“Donghyuck and Yangyang are friends?”

“Yeah, according to them they bonded over dealing with me.”

“Those were their exact words?”

“Dealing with my ‘stupid ass,’” Renjun says.

“That’s more on brand.”

Renjun nods.

You think about Yangyang, Renjun’s friend from when he was a kid. You’ve met him a few times now, especially since he’s moved half an hour away from Renjun. He’s fun, always bringing out a chaotic side of Renjun whether it’s dancing on a bar or bringing out angry-Renjun. But Yangyang and Donghyuck?

“That’s a terrible friendship. They’re going to ruin you.”

Renjun nods again, but you see the smile hiding in his eyes. He can rant all he wants, you know he’s excited his friends are getting closer with each other.

You point at the bag. “So where are we doing this?”

You half expect him to lecture you about rash hair decisions but he just gestures to the kitchen. ���I figure right here should be fine. The tiles should be pretty easy to clean and probably could use some bleach anyway.”

He drags the chair with a rickety leg from the dining table. You dig through the bag and set everything on the counter. While Renjun cracks a window open, you begin to mix the developer and the bleach, curling your lip at the sharp scent. Renjun joins you, pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Wow that’s strong,” he says, wincing.

“Yeah,” you say. “Definitely a good idea to do it here.”

When the powder is finally combined, you sit on the chair, Renjun following behind you. You section off your hair together, then he grabs the bowl and the brush.

He holds the thick paintbrush brush up against your hair, glancing at you, giving you one last chance to back down. You give him the nod of approval and he shifts back to focusing on your hair, brushing the bleach into it as carefully as he spreads paint on a canvas. He works section by section, carefully drenching your hair with the creamy solution.

“So, are you going to tell me why you decided to do this?”

You can’t resist turning and glancing at him. “I thought you approved.”

“I didn’t try to talk you out of it,” he says, “that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about how you came to this decision.”

You nod until Renjun uses his gloved hand to hold your head straight. “I suppose that’s fair.”

You pause, trying to find the right words. But you find yourself drifting back to Renjun. Why didn’t he ask this before the bleach was in your hair? It’s not like him to keep his opinions to himself. When you first met him, he was yelling at Donghyuck for going to a philosophy seminar just to fight with the notorious bigot of a professor (which Donghyuck did and then got kicked out, and proceeded to get the professor suspended). You only knew Mark back then, a friend from another class who invited you to meet some of his other friends in the dining hall. When Renjun turned to ask what you thought, you said Donghyuck should do what he thinks is right. Renjun didn’t hesitate to call you an idiot then. So why isn’t he calling you an idiot now?

To his credit Renjun doesn’t rush you. He continues to paint the bleach into your hair, content to wait for you to figure out an answer. Except you’re thinking about all the wrong questions. Like, seriously, why do you want him to call you an idiot?

“I want a change,” you finally say. “I’m stuck in a degree that will make me absolutely no money when I graduate, I can’t afford to break my lease, and don’t have any major relationships that need upheaving, so, hair.”

“‘A change?’” Renjun repeats. “Like, you woke up this morning and thought, today I’m going blonde?”

“Like, I have this feeling in my chest, this aching feeling that there’s something I need to do, someone I’m supposed to be, something more than the person I see in the mirror but I’ve made my decisions and I’m happy with my decisions and I genuinely like who I am. So, hair.”

You see Renjun’s hand falter out of the corner of your eye, halfway between the bleach mixture and your hair. He freezes for a heartbeat then continues to move, lifting some hair off your ear, careful not to brush the bleach onto your skin.

“‘So, hair,’” he says.

“Are you really going to repeat everything I say?”

This gets a short laugh from him. “I think the fumes are getting to me already.” He pauses, setting down the brush and stepping in front of you. “For what it’s worth, I like who you are, too. I’m really glad we’re friends.”

You smile at him. “Me too,” you say. “I definitely would have fucked up trying to bleach this on my own.”

.

.

“There’s still some bleach left,” Renjun says after he finishes with your roots. “You’re sure you don’t want your eyebrows to match?”

“Why don’t we do your eyebrows,” you say. “Better yet, why don’t we shave them off?”

Renjun sets down the brush. “Okay, no eyebrows.”

You grin at him. “That’s what I thought.”

He helps you get a plastic bag wrapped securely over your head, then sets the timer.

“What do you want to do for the next half hour?” You ask. “Preferably something that requires little to no movement.” You gesture to your head. “We’re not winning any frisbee tournaments tonight.”

“It was one time,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head and stepping around you plop down onto the couch. “We can watch something.”

You follow him, sitting on the other side, a cushion between you. The space feels strangely empty. Though you’ve spent plenty of time alone with Renjun, even alone with him at his apartment, the silence is usually interrupted by one of the guys getting bored of playing League, or coming back because they can’t go out to a bar without someone forgetting their ID, or in desperate need of Renjun’s expert advice (read: Jeno never remembers to ask Renjun to look over his submissions until 12 minutes before they’re due). The cushion between you never stays empty for long but the moments stretch on, only making the distance feel greater.

You wonder, not for the first time, how long it’s been since you’ve thought of Renjun as just a friend. If he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much about what he thinks. And if he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much that he suddenly doesn’t think.

You sneak a glance at him, fiddling with the remote for a couple seconds before realizing he grabbed the wrong one. He’s certainly always been handsome—that was undeniable from the moment you met him. But more than just being good looking, it’s Renjun himself. Not just those dark eyes, but the way they burn with passion (even when he’s arguing about the proper number of appetizers to order). It’s his perfectly shaped lips, the way they betray how he feels with a slight curve up or down—and his smile. Always, always his smile, beautiful and breathtaking even though you’ve seen it a thousand times.

He turns, a little furrow in his brow. “What?”

“Hm?”

“You’re looking at me funny,” he says. “Did I get bleach in my hair or something?”

You turn to face the TV, trying to pay attention to the show Renjun chose. “I wasn’t looking at you funny,” you say. “I wasn’t even looking at you.”

“If you say so,” Renjun says, “but if there’s a blonde spot anywhere in my hair, I’m so making you pay for it.”

You shake your head. Where the hell did those thoughts come from? Renjun, more than a friend? Sure, you’re close with him and sure, he’s objectively attractive, but you’ve never had those thoughts before. Well, at least not sober.

“Um, why are we watching Singles Inferno?”

“Because I asked and you were too busy not staring at me to answer, so I put it on,” Renjun says. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you don’t like it. I saw you rant on your Instagram story the other day.”

“Okay, but you don’t get it,” you say. “This bitch really has the audacity to to—”

“I saw your post,” Renjun says. “Believe me, I get it.”

“If you didn’t want to hear about it you should not have turned it on, because now I can’t stop,” you say. Renjun rolls his eyes but even as you delve into a full on essay about the horrible men particularly common in dating shows, you see the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile.

.

.

The timer goes off halfway through an episode.

“Saved by the buzzer,” Renjun says. “I’m putting a ban on anything reality TV related for the next three hours.”

“You’re the one that brought it up,” you mutter without any real annoyance. Despite his banter, Renjun dutifully listened to your rants, and even got mad along with you.

You drag a chair to the sink while Renjun drapes a towel over your shoulders. He puts on gloves and unwraps the bag, letting your hair fall into the empty sink.

“Close your eyes,” Renjun says gently. He tilts your head back, cupping the back of your head for a moment before pulling the head of the sink faucet out. He runs the water, long enough for you to peek your eyes open.

You’ve gotten used to seeing Renjun focused. He gets a little furrow in his brow, always glaring at his work. Before you were friends, you used to think he was actually angry, that his frowns and short tone were real. You’ve learned since then, it’s not his emotions, it’s his passion. The frown only comes out when he’s focused, trying to be perfect. When he cares.

“Unless you want bleach in them, close your eyes,” Renjun mutters, with absolutely no malice behind the words. His eyes shift to meet yours and that’s how you know you’re right. He can glare and bluster all he wants, he can’t hide his eyes, warm and shining. Like when he’s looking at his art, his gaze is a combination of soft and intense, creating something stronger than affection. Except he’s not looking at his art, he’s looking at you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your heartbeat pick up. Despite every attempt to shut down the thoughts, they race through your head, a stampede grown out of control. Renjun, who you’ve only known a year and a half but who has become one of your closest friends. Renjun, who never fails to share the only opinion you really care about. Renjun, who you can’t imagine life without. Renjun, who you’ve never dared to imagine life with.

He places a hand on your forehead, bringing the faucet closer to rinse your roots while keeping the water from pouring onto your face. You prepare for a cold shock but the water that soaks into your hair is the perfect temperature—not scalding hot, not freezing cold. Some water sprays over his hand, falling onto your eyelids and cheeks.

“Sorry,” Renjun murmurs. He holds the head farther away, running his fingers gently through the roots of your hair. He’s so close you can feel his breath, warm against your temple. You can feel his body, hovering over yours, and maybe it’s just your imagination, but warmth seems to emanate from it.

His friends would laugh at you if you described Renjun as soft to their face, but it’s the only adjective that captures the way he works the water through your hair. Soft and gentle and careful and nothing like the Renjun that has to corral everyone into his car at 3 in the morning. And yet this Renjun doesn’t feel like a stranger to you.

Washing your hair takes a lifetime, but as soon as he steps away and turns off the water, you miss it. You miss him, even though he’s only a couple feet away.

“You can open your eyes now,” he says. As soon as you do, he tosses a towel at you. It hits you in the face before you can get your hands up.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” Renjun says, not sounding sorry at all. He manages to hold back the laugh but still grins at you, unashamed. He steps forward and pats your face dry, with the same gentleness as before, though there’s still a mischievous glint in his eyes. You yank the towel away before he gets any ideas, drying off your face on your down and wrapping it around your hair. You wring it out a couple times before letting go, doing your best to get it to fall evenly around your head.

You raise your eyebrows at Renjun. “Okay, how bad is it?”

“Okay, first of all, I’m insulted that you think there’s any way I’d fuck up you hair,” Renjun says. “And it looks really good. Blonde suits you.”

You take a deep breath and pull out your phone, studying yourself in the mirror and… he’s right. The color is even, somewhere between blonde and orange that is unavoidable when using bleach. Radical hair changes generally end in tears but looking at yourself in the mirror, you don’t feel the usual dissonance. The hair is different but somehow more familiar than the “normal” you that doesn’t feel right anymore.

“I’m right,” Renjun says.

You smile. “Yeah, you are.” You put down your phone, meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Renjun.”

“For what?”

“Doing all of this for me,” you say.

“It’s the least I could do,” he mumbles. “You’re my friend.”

You shake your head. “Thank you anyways.”

Renjun just shrugs and grabs the bowl, rinsing out the bleach in the sink. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s avoiding your eyes.

You do your best to clean up the bleach from the floor, busying yourself until Renjun finishes. You wonder if you’re imagining the tiles getting a little bit whiter. Finally, he turns off the water and glances at you.

“You’re really happy with it?” He asks, sounding more like he doubts you rather than changing his opinion.

“Yeah,” you say, standing up. “I think it’s the ‘me’ of right now, you know?”

“Not really.”

“Like, I feel disjointed, and blonde hair is definitely not me, but it's the me that feels kind of all over the place, so even though it doesn’t look like me, it looks like me.” You wring your hands together, fingers tinged red.

“That makes no sense,” Renjun says, “but I think I get what you mean.” He smiles. “And I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets.”

So he did think this was a potential mistake? Why didn’t he say anything?

Renjun turns back to the sink, but before he can turn the water on, your voice calls his name. “Renjun?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t turn around.

“Why didn’t you fight me on this?”

He doesn’t move for a long moment. You wish you could see his face. “I have been told by certain people,” he begins, which is code for Donghyuck and Yangyang certified their position as Renjun’s worst nightmare. He turns to face you, wiping his hands on a towel.

“That I have a tendency to be overly opinionated in a generally negative direction. And I thought about it, and I realized I'm never really fully supportive, whether it’s a big decision, or, like, coffee, and I’ve always been this way, but, apparently, it’s especially… apparent with you.” He frowns. “This is all coming out wrong. I’m trying to say that it’s different when I’m around you. I’m different.”

Your eyes jump between his, trying to decipher what he’s saying. “Different?”

“I care a lot about you,” Renjun says, “more than anyone, actually.”

“Oh.” You blink once, twice. “Wait, you like me?”

Renjun’s eyes shift to the floor. “Yeah.”

You can’t help but let out a short laugh, reeling at the absurdity of it all. Renjun likes you? But he’s Renjun. Even though he’s the most common main character in your daydreams, you never once realistically thought he might be fantasizing about you too. But he likes you.

“I really didn’t want to say anything, I mean, before anything else you’re my friend, and I don’t want to ruin that,” Renjun says rapidly. “We’re good friends, and I really didn’t want to be the guy that pretends to be your friend but just wants to date you the whole time, that’s really not what I was trying to do, it’s just—”

“Renjun.” You put a hand on his shoulder and he freezes mid sentence, mouth still hanging open a little. Before he can move, you lean closer, the type of line you’d only dare to cross in your dreams.

“I’d like to kiss you,” you say softly. He blinks, eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

“I’d like that,” he finally breathes. So you kiss him.

It starts light, his lips exactly as you imagined—soft and warm. His arm works its way around your waist, pulling you closer. The other works its way into your hair, still wet and sticking to your head. Renjun kisses like he’s been planning this for a long time, and maybe he has. Every movement is slow and careful, until he’s stolen all your air and even then you don’t want to pull away.

Your bravery fades the minute you meet his eyes. You bury your face into his chest, your cheek resting against your own hand. Renjun wraps both of his arms around you, holding you snugly in place.

“I like you, too,” you say into his chest. It’s the cowards route but if you look him in the eyes the words will never come out. “If it wasn’t obvious.”

“It wasn’t actually,” he says softly. “I think I drove all of my friends insane trying to figure out whether I should confess or not.”

“They all know?” You groan. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”

“Yeah.” When Renjun laughs, it shakes your whole body. You can feel the rumbling, overtaking his heartbeat. “It’s okay though. It’s worth it.”

You turn your head, emerging from the sanctuary of his chest and tucking your head so that you can see his face. He smiles at you with the familiar warmth you’ve come to expect.

“Yeah,” you say, “it really is.”

Renjun grins.

“Your hair on the other hand…” He says.

“I thought you liked it!”

“I like it,” Renjun says, “but when has Donghyuck ever liked a single change to anyone’s hair?”

“Since when do you care what Donghyuck thinks?”

“I’m just saying now that we’re officially dating, my friends are going to be extra annoying,” Renjun says.

“Extra annoying? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Don’t underestimate them.”

You groan, pressing your face back into his chest. “It’s not too late to get some hair dye.”

“You are not changing your hair because of my dumbass friends,” Renjun says.

“You like it?”

“You like it,” he says. “That’s the only opinion that really matters.” He pauses then adds, “But yeah. I like it.”

You grin, lifting your head to kiss his cheek. “Maybe we should dye your hair too.”

Renjun snorts. “Oh yeah?”

“We could have matching couples hair.”

He laughs out loud this time. “Maybe we should just get some shirts.”

“Three minutes of dating and you already want matching shirts? Huang Renjun, be honest.” You push off of him until you can place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eyes. “Are you obsessed with me?”

“Yes,” he says, layering his voice in sarcasm that still isn’t enough to hide the truth of the admission. “All day every day, all I think about is you.”

“Well, see, that can’t be true because if you were that obsessed and I’m this close, you would already be kissing me because—” You forget whatever you were going to say, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when Renjun is kissing you like this. Your hands at his shoulders slink around his neck, while his wrap around your waist, leaning so close to you, you feel your back begin to dip.

Huang Renjun is poison, the kind that turns into a heart-shaped puff of pink when the bottle is opened. You melt into his kiss and it’s still not enough. You could die, right this instant, and you don’t think you’d notice. Death itself wouldn’t be able to tear you away from this moment.

“Renjun!” Donghyuck’s voice thunders through the kitchen. “How dare you? You bastard, you’re cheating?”

You jump apart, turning to see him looming in the doorway. His glare settles on you, and you see the exact moment he realizes he recognizes you.

“Jesus Christ, you could have knocked or something,” Renjun says.

“I live here too,” Donghyuck says automatically. He squints, then looks at Renjun, then back at you. “YN? Your hair is blonde.”

For some reason, you raise your hand and wave at him. “Hey!”

“Oh my god!” Donghyuck cries. “Yangyang owes me thirty dollars!” He races back out the door, screaming something that’s lost as the door swings shut.

You glance at Renjun. “Cheating?”

He frowns at the door, still a crack open. “Did he… seriously think you were someone else? That I was cheating on my unrequited crush?”

His eyes shift to yours. A heartbeat passes and you burst into laughter. His friends might be annoying, but they’re still endearing. You press a messy, smile-infested kiss to his lips and wonder if you’ll ever get used to the giddy feeling.

There’s plenty messy in your life, plenty to doubt. But watching Yangyang and Donghyuck drag their backpacks in (apparently Donghyuck forgot his power bank and they decided to give up on camping) as they attempt to interrogate Renjun on every detail, you can’t help but feel like it doesn’t really matter. You don’t doubt Renjun. You don’t doubt blonde suits you. And you don’t doubt the power of a last minute hair decision, not anymore.

thank you for reading!! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated

[licorice-tea]

congrats on 100 followers! I just started reading your work because of ur prompt post and you do notttt disappoint!! soooo I want to request Zoro w lovers rock BUT SPECIFICALLY the end dialogue

“Now, how many men have you kissed?”

“Very few. “

“But you offered me a kiss. Why?”

“Such a foolish reason, I'm afraid. I just wanted to kiss you. “

- 🍙

Such A Foolish Reason

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x reader

Content: reader is usually kind of a flirt and Zoro is unsure of how much they actually like him!

Word Count: 0.6k

A/N: another request from my 100 follower event! ty for the submission @🍙 and i hope you like it! <3

You had already determined that Zoro wasn’t going to make the first move, no matter how glaringly obvious you made your feelings for him. The man was simply out of his breadth, and too unsure of how to navigate this sort of emotional territory. That didn’t through you off though; you still want him more and more every day. So eventually you had taken it upon yourself to initiate the first kiss, since you could barely contain the depth of your feelings for him any longer. Every moment around the swordsman is like a game of “will they? won’t they?” at this point.

But no matter how badly you desire Zoro, you can’t just dive straight into him into a kiss the way you want to. He’s not the kind of person to do things without being sure, and neither are you. Even something as simple as kissing would require a straightforward request and, hopefully, he would agree to it.

Ever so hesitantly, you turn to Zoro one starry night at sea. His sharp jawline is turned away from you, and his eyes are trained on the waves down below. You hate that he’s so concentrated on the ocean when you’re sitting right there, shoulder to shoulder with him. Because tonight, all you want is to be the focus of that intense stare.

“Zoro”, you whisper, and he responds with a grunt, “I have to ask you something.”

Finally, he turns to face you. His irises sweep across your starlit features, then come back to meet your own eyes. From the way your pupils are blown wider than usual and your soft, glossed bottom lip is being bitten under the top, he gathers that you’re nervous. It’s strange, for someone of your confidence and boldness. “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

A furious blush ignites and burns across his cheeks in a matter of seconds. And though he’s unsure of how to respond in words, Zoro can at least nod.

Your palm finds its way over his jaw as you tilt his face so that it will align with yours. His skin is softer than expected; so soft that you give into the temptation to simply run your thumb across his cheek. It’s warm, which isn’t surprising given how pink he’s turned.

Zoro expects that you must have done this a thousand times to be able to touch him with such great care. To make him feel so strongly that his mind is scattered and he can barely get his thoughts in order. He’s engrossed in the feeling of you.

From your point of view, Zoro has simply gone quiet again. But you can feel the furious beat of his heart through his neck’s pulse-

“How many men have you kissed?” One of the thoughts manage to tactlessly slip out.

You immediately stop and hesitantly pull back “Very few.” Though your reputation as a heartbreaker precedes you, you rarely find yourself falling hard enough to do much of anything with the men you flirt with. Most of the time, it’s only to get things out of them; directions, supplies, etcetera.

This surprises Zoro. “But… You offered me a kiss. Why?”

The corners of your mouth curl upwards as you smile bashfully. “It’s a foolish reason, I’m afraid. I just…” You trail off with a shrug, and Zoro leans in- hooked on your every word. “Wanted to kiss you.”

And so, you do.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Rating: K Summary: T.K. is eager to return to the firehouse for his first shift post-icy pond coma. He's feeling great, excited, and ready for anything. What he doesn't expect is a surprise visit from a lonely Carlos in the middle of the night. A/N: This one has been sitting for a while and I figured I should probably release it before we FINALLY get some new material to work with this week!!

Read on AO3

“Did you pack extra socks?”

“Yes.”

“Your vitamins? Your hoodie?”

“Yes, Carlos.”

“I put an extra blanket for you in a bag by the door, make sure you grab it on your way out.”

“Okay, this is starting to feel more like my first day of Kindergarten than my first day back at work,” T.K. chuckles. 

Carlos shifts uncomfortably and huffs. “I just want to make sure you have everything you need.”

T.K. puts a hand on his chest, steadying him. “I’m going to the firehouse. Not the moon. If I need something you can bring it to me. It’s twelve hours Carlos. One overnight shift. I’ll be okay.”

“I still think maybe you should have waited until there was a day shift available,” Carlos insists. “You need your sleep.”

“Babe, I want to go back. I need to go back. If I sit around here for much longer I’m going to go crazy,” T.K. says gently. “The doctors cleared me, my dad cleared me, Tommy cleared me. I’m good to go.”

“Nobody asked me if I cleared you,” Carlos grumbles low, almost as if he doesn’t mean for T.K. to hear it. 

T.K.’s mouth twists into a half smile that he tries to suppress. Carlos has been extremely attentive and serious about T.K.’s recovery care since coming home from the hospital. There have been schedules and spreadsheets and alarm reminders about medications and appointments. T.K. has been plied with so much of Andrea’s soup that it feels like his eyeballs could float.

He still tires a little quicker than normal, especially toward the end of the day, and he hasn’t quite shaken off the permanent chill that ate its way into his bones in that frozen pond, but he feels almost back to one hundred percent. And he’s definitely well enough to get through one shift. 

“I will be okay,” T.K. promises him. “If anything feels off I’ll tell Tommy and come right home.”

Carlos eyes him, still not convinced. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

His phone buzzes and he checks it. “Nancy’s here. I’ll see you in a few hours. You’ll barely even know I’m gone.”

“Be safe,” Carlos says. 

It was their standard standard farewell before. Before the fire and the breakup and the ice.

“I will,” T.K. responds. The words have an odd weight in his chest. The last time he went to work they were broken up. He couldn’t promise Carlos that he would be safe, and he wasn’t. He fell through a frozen pond and died and woke up to a second chance with the love of his life.

It feels good to be able to make that promise again.

“Love you,” he says, pecking Carlos on the lips as he shoulders his work bag.

“Love you too,” Carlos says. “Ah! Blanket!” he calls as T.K. reaches for the doorknob.

T.K. accepts the bag from him. “Thanks Mom.”

Carlos rolls his eyes, but there’s a fond, slightly embarrassed smile on his lips. “Shut up.”

T.K. takes the elevator down to the ground floor and exits out the front doors to where Nancy is parked and waiting. “Aw yeah!!” she yells out the car window. “Get in loser! We’re going to work!”

T.K. throws his bag giddily into the back seat and buckles his seatbelt. “Freedoooom!!” he crows happily as she puts it into gear.

“Oh, yeah, like it’s been so hard for you recovering with Carlos catering to your every whim,” Nancy teases. 

She’s not wrong; he has no complaints. Carlos has been with him as much as possible for the last few weeks, rebuilding the fractured splinters of their relationship into something that finally feels solid again. T.K.’s heart is nearly as recovered as his body. There have been painful moments, lots of tears, anger, and some difficult confessions, but already T.K. feels stronger for it. The break up was awful, and part of him still hates himself for his role in it, but it almost feels worth it to be where they are now. 

“So catch me up on the gossip,” T.K. says as they drive. “What’s the firehouse tea?”

“Mm! Yes! God, I missed you,” Nancy says fervently. “Okay. Someone froze Paul’s boxers last week and he’s still so mad about it. He thinks it was Mateo.”

“And was it?”

“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’ and smiles wickedly. “It was me and Marj.”

“Nice.” T.K. sinks into the seat, already feeling like he’s settling back into normal. “What else?”

“Torbin’s girlfriend left him. Again,” she says. “And your dad found the decoy candy stash, but the real one is still safe.”

“Third cabinet from the left behind the spare hoses?”

“You know it.”

“Are there Sour Patch Kids?”

She takes her eyes off the road for a second to smile at him. “I restocked them for you as a welcome back gift.”

“Aw, thanks Nance,” he says, heart warming at her kindness. 

The entire 126 has stepped in a major way over the last few weeks. The fridge in the loft hasn’t been empty of food once, everyone has stopped by to check on him, and the group text thread has been full of encouraging and silly texts. It had hurt to watch them all get back to work once the station opened; he’d been able to attend the ceremony but hadn’t been cleared for duty yet. But tonight they will finally be all together again.

When they arrive the house is quiet. There’s no flurry of activity in the bays; everything is oddly silent and dark. 

“What’s going on?” T.K. asks as they get out of Nancy’s car, nerves fluttering. Have they been shut down again for some reason? They literally just reopened a couple weeks ago, if they’ve been taken out of service already….

The lights flick on and there’s a cacophonous shout of “SURPRISE!” as the whole team pops out from behind the engine and the ambulance. There’s a giant banner with “Welcome Back T.K.” on the front of the rig, along with balloons and streamers, and Paul is holding a massive cake.

The grin that splits T.K.’s face is so wide it hurts and he feels tears prick at the corner of his eyes. It’s Marjan who comes to him first, holding out her arms as she runs over for a hug. “Welcome back,” she says warmly and he squeezes her tightly before letting go to catch the next person in line.

Judd claps a hand onto his shoulder. “Good to have you home brother.”

“Thanks,” T.K. says. “And please tell Grace thank you again for all the meals. It’s made our lives so much easier these last couple weeks.”

Even with a newborn in the house, somehow Grace had managed to send over meals to make sure Carlos and T.K. didn’t starve during his convalescence. 

“Yeah between you and Paul she’s been basically running a catering company out of our kitchen,” Judd says. “Gotta make sure everybody’s taken care of. But you’re cut off now,” he announces loudly. “Time for y’all to do your own cookin’ again.”

“Bro, I can’t believe you didn’t even lose any toes or anything,” Mateo says when it’s his turn. His hug is accompanied by a back slap that chokes the breath out of T.K. for a second. “I mean it’s good, but like, that would have been pretty gnarly.”

“Yeah, I’m glad I kept all my appendages,” T.K. says. “I find them pretty essential.”

“Still, would have been a cool story,” Mateo says a little wistfully.

“Mateo his story is already plenty cool,” Paul says. “In fact, it’s so cool, it’s almost frozen solid. And that is why we got you this cake.”

He holds it up for T.K.’s inspection and T.K. bursts into laughter. It’s got Frozen characters all over it and reads “The Cold Never Bothered T.K. Anyway.” 

“It’s an ice cream cake,” Paul says proudly, like this is the greatest collective idea they’ve ever had.

“I love it,” T.K. says. “It’s perfect.”

“Okay, okay, let the adults have a turn,” Tommy says, breaking through the crowd and pulling T.K. into a warm, soft hug. “Welcome back T.K. It’s so good to see you well.”

T.K. hugs her back, a little extra tight. He’s very aware that he’s not the only one who lived through several days of trauma because of that pond. This woman’s hands saved his life, kept his heart beating long enough for help to arrive. Even when the question of whether he’d live had been answered, there was still uncertainty about how functional he would be. That he’s back at work like nothing ever happened is astonishing. It’s a triumph for both of them.

“Cap I don’t—“ The words stick in his throat because how do you thank someone for doing what she did?

She pulls back and squeezes his shoulders. “I know baby,” she says softly, eyes looking a little moist. “It’s okay. You’re here. That’s all that matters.”

Tommy looks past him and T.K. turns to find his dad. “C’mere kiddo,” he says warmly and T.K. ducks his head, slightly embarrassed by this display of fatherly affection in front of his team. “Love you,” his dad murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to his hair before patting him sharply on the back. “All right team! Let’s celebrate the 126 being finally, officially back together!”

T.K. takes a photo with the cake to send to Carlos before they cut into it. Paul makes sure T.K. gets the piece with Elsa’s face on it and they all talk and joke and laugh like no time has passed at all.

When the bells go off he feels a thrill go down his spine, excitement tinged with a little bit of nerves. “You ready?” Nancy asks as they climb into the rig.

“You know it,” he says with a grin. “Cap?”

Tommy buckles in. “Let’s roll.”

“Yeah!!! TNT is back in action!” Nancy honks the horn as they roll out of the garage and peal off toward an elderly slip and fall.

It’s a relatively easy call, a good, low stress reintroduction to the job. They drop the woman off at the hospital with a possible concussion and sprained ankle and are on their way back to the station when another call comes in for a fire in a single family home.

They meet up with the rest of the crew at the address, where they find a relatively small, but smoky kitchen fire. They’re not needed beyond basic first aid and are sent to a call for a choking at a restaurant next. 

T.K. is practically buzzing with energy by the time they finally get back to the station an hour later. Some of it is probably sugar from the large piece of cake he downed before they started, but he’s also flying high on the joy of saving people. He’d known he missed the job, but he hadn’t realized quite how much until he’d snapped on his gloves and started taking vitals again. 

He bounces out of the ambulance into the bay, already knowing that he’s not going to sleep at all tonight. Maybe he can persuade Mateo to pull a Mario Kart all nighter with him.

It’s past ten but the rest of the crew is still up, most of them in the showers still trying to get the stench of the kitchen fire off. T.K. is on his way to grab a second piece of cake when he hears Judd call his name from the doorway to the locker room.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Found something that belongs to you,” Judd says, an odd smirk on his face.

“Something that belongs to me?” T.K. wrinkles his nose. He’s barely been back five hours, what could he possibly be missing already? 

As realization dawns he rolls his eyes. “Is this a welcome back prank? What’d you do? Put my keys in jello? Hide a fish in my locker?”

“Nope,” Judd says. “You’d better go check your bunk though. It’s waitin’ for ya.”

His bunk? What the hell? Giving Judd a final suspicious look he heads for the bunk room.  

He enters with caution, aware that this is likely a trap. When his eyes adjust to the darkened lighting he finds Judd was right; there is a familiar lump that most definitely belongs to him curled up in the middle of his bed. T.K.’s heart stutters and he crosses the room in only a few strides, sinking down onto the edge of the mattress.

His hand automatically goes to Carlos’ forehead, fear that his boyfriend has somehow become ill or injured in the hours since he left home at the forefront of his mind. “Babe,” he says worriedly, brushing his fingers across Carlos’ face and down his neck.

Carlos’ eyelids flutter and he blinks up soft, brown, confused eyes at T.K. before quickly pushing up to a sitting position. “Hey,” he says, a little breathless as he tries to recover from his late night nap. 

“Baby, are you okay?” T.K. asks, his fingers still worriedly searching for signs of fever or injury.

“Yeah, yes, I’m fine,” Carlos says, clearing his throat and scooting back so there’s some space between them. 

Relief extinguishes the spike of adrenaline in T.K.’s veins and he relaxes a little as curiosity takes over. “What are you doing here then? Did something happen at home?”

Carlos’ face takes on a slightly evasive look. “No, everything’s fine at the loft.” 

“Then why are you asleep in my bunk?”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I was just waiting for you.” The words are quick, almost defensive.

“Waiting for me?” T.K. frowns. “Did you come all the way over here just to make sure I haven’t passed out or something? Seriously Carlos, we talked about this. I promised I would be careful.”

“No, that’s not—I wasn’t—“ Carlos huffs in frustration and T.K. tries to read the look on his face without success.

“Baby, what is it?”

Carlos looks down at his hands and mumbles something that T.K. doesn’t catch. “What?” he asks, confusion and concern clouding his happy back-to-work buzz.

Carlos sighs and meets his gaze, embarrassment all over his face. “I said, I missed you.”

T.K. softens at these words. “You came all the way over here because you missed me?”

“It’s stupid,” Carlos says, his discomfort at this vulnerable admission written into every line of his body.

“No,” T.K. says, scooching a little closer to him. “No, baby, no. It’s not stupid.”

“It is stupid,” Carlos says. “I’m a grown man. I should be able to spend one night without my boyfriend.”

“It’s okay,” T.K. says with a chuckle. “We’ve spent a lot of time together lately. It’s cute that you got lonely without me.”

“This was dumb, I’m gonna go.” Carlos starts to get up, but T.K. catches his hand. 

“No, stay for a little bit.”

Carlos sinks back down reluctantly. “Isn’t everyone coming up soon? It’s late.”

“They’re still cleaning up downstairs. And Judd knows we’re up here. He’ll probably make them give us a few minutes.”

He grabs Carlos’ arm and pulls it around his waist, scooting backward toward the center of the small mattress and pushing against Carlos’ body.

“What are you doing?” Carlos asks in confusion.

“Come on, snuggle me. You drove all the way over here, might as well get some cuddles to remember me by in our bed tonight.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, come on.” T.K. wiggles his butt invitingly until Carlos slides down and spoons him the way he wants. “See? Better already, right?”

Carlos huffs a laugh against the back of T.K.’s neck. It’s a tight fit, both of them on this twin size firehouse mattress, but they squirm around and manage to find a position that’s comfortable enough.  

T.K. waits, feeling Carlos relax against him as the minutes pass uninterrupted. His own eyes feel a little heavy; it would be so easy to fall asleep like this. Sleeping on the couch at his dad’s for months had been devastatingly lonely. At the time he’d tried to pretend it wasn’t; that he was glad there was no room for Carlos when he laid his head down at night. 

But in the months since, he’s recognized how horribly isolating it was. He’d taken a lot of extra shifts because it was easier to sleep in beds that Carlos had never touched. 

These memories stir a thought. “You haven’t been alone at the loft since I came home from the hospital,” T.K. says softly.

He feels Carlos stiffen a little behind him. “Yeah, I guess that’s right.”

“It must have been hard before, all those nights when I wasn’t there,” T.K. says, focusing on every tiny movement and breath happening behind him. In all their many conversations the last few weeks, they’ve mostly talked about what broke them up in the first place and how to keep it from happening again. Carlos has avoided saying much about the actual time they spent apart. T.K. is pushing at a tender spot, one that Carlos has been loathe to talk about in lieu of “moving on” instead. But his boyfriend is here seeking comfort for a reason and T.K. can’t let him go home without uncovering what it is. 

When Carlos doesn’t speak T.K. pushes a little harder. “I had my dad and Mateo, but you were there all by yourself.”

“We don’t have to talk about this.”

There’s tension in Carlos’ voice and T.K. awkwardly rolls over until they’re facing each other, refusing to back down. “Did you talk to anyone? All those months apart? Have you told anyone how that felt?”

The lines of Carlos’ brow are tight, like he’s struggling to keep his feelings tucked down deep inside of him. “It’s in the past T.K.”

“If it’s in the past, then why are you here?” he asks, keeping his voice gentle.

Carlos swallows, his eyes closing like he’s in pain. There’s a long moment of quiet and T.K. wonders if he’s going to have to let it drop for tonight. But then, “You were gone. There was no one to tell,” Carlos finally says.

That’s what he’d been afraid of. Carlos hadn’t told his family, T.K. already knew that. And he’s far too polite a person to air his grievances to any of their friends, especially since most of them are also T.K.’s colleagues. T.K. is his person. The one he feels safe with. When T.K. walked out of that loft he hadn’t just left Carlos, he’d taken his entire support system with him.

“I’m here. Tell me now,” he says. “Please?”

Carlos’ eyes drop to the third or fourth button down on T.K.’s uniform shirt, the words too difficult to say to his face. “Those nights were awful,” he tells the button. “I would lie in bed, hating myself for pushing you away, furious at you for leaving me. I was—god—I was so lonely, T.K. I wanted you back so damn much it hurt.

He finally lifts his eyes a little and they look haunted, like mentally he’s reliving those awful, dark hours. “I know this isn’t the same. I know you’re just here at work, but sitting there in the quiet tonight, all by myself…”

“It felt like I’d left you all over again,” T.K. finishes for him.

“Yeah, kind of.” His mouth twists and he shifts uncomfortably. “I know this isn’t the same thing. I kept telling myself I’d see you in the morning, but I couldn’t sleep and I couldn’t stop thinking and I just…I wanted to see you.”

“You can always come see me. If you need that reassurance, I will give it to you.”

T.K. takes Carlos’ hand and kisses it before pressing it over his heart, pounding forcefully with grief over mistakes and lost time beneath his ribs. His other hand he secures on Carlos’ hip, his thumb moving back and forth soothingly. “I am here,” he says firmly. “I am coming home to you. Every day. And every night. From now on. You’re not alone in that loft anymore, Carlos. I might not be there all the time, but I will always want to be. It’s our home. I don’t want it to feel like anything else ever again.”

Carlos gives him a lopsided smile. “Me neither.

“Come here.”

He pulls Carlos into his arms, holding him tightly. The tones go off and Carlos tries to let him go but T.K. tucks him in tighter. “It’s just fire, not us,” he says, feeling slightly guilty that he’s glad his teammates are running back to work because it means no one is going to bother them for awhile. 

They stay curled up together for so long, that T.K. wonders if Carlos is going to go back to sleep. But finally he pulls back, his body relaxed and loose. “Better?” T.K. asks.

Carlos nods. “Yes. Thank you.” His gaze turns more serious, assessing. “How are you? Are you feeling all right? How’s the shift been?”

T.K. chuckles. “I’m not the one who fell asleep in my boyfriend’s work bunk. Yes, I’m fine. The shift has been amazing. I missed this so much.”

“You haven’t gotten lightheaded or dizzy? You’re not too tired?”

“No. Not even a little.”

“Good,” Carlos says, relief smoothing out the last of the lines that crease his brow. “I know I’m being selfish, wanting to keep you home with me, but I really am glad you’re back. That all of you are back. It was nice to walk in and see the whole crew together again.”

“Yeah,” T.K. agrees, a warm bloom in his chest.

“I should get going,” Carlos says. “You need to get at least a little sleep tonight.”

“Come on. Since my dad is gone we can raid the secret candy stash before you go. I’ll even let you have some of my Sour Patch Kids.”

Carlos wrinkles his nose as T.K. pulls him to his feet. “I don’t know how you can stand those things.”

“They’re delicious! First they’re sour, then they’re sweet!”

“It’s almost midnight. Didn’t you have cake earlier too? Please tell me you ate a vegetable at dinner.”

[dreamwavesexploringreality]

TOGETHER

Requested: Chishiya post-Borderlands, taking care of a depressed wife

Chishiya x reader Post-Borderlands.

TW: Mention of depression, mental health symptoms, apathy, emotional detachment, intrusive thoughts, anxiety, reference to past trauma, social isolation, lack of appetite.

A few weeks had passed since her return to the real world.

“The real world,” Y/N thought repeatedly while lying in bed. “Is this really real?” Since her return to routine, Y/N felt as if she was walking unsteadily on a fragile sheet of ice that might crack at any moment. To anyone, it might seem that all that time in Borderlands had been nothing more than a very vivid dream. It was something she couldn’t explain to anyone and, even if she wanted to, the words didn’t seem real in her own language; it felt as if she were speaking another language every time she tried to give verbal form to everything that had happened. That’s why she chose to remain silent; it was easier and much more comfortable than starting a pointless babble that would lead nowhere.

On the other hand, Y/N had always been fascinated by the way her husband handled things. She had seen him calm and stoic in life-or-death situations, and now, back in the real world, nothing had changed. Chishiya was still the same as always, as if nothing had happened in the past days, weeks, months… As if they hadn’t been on the brink of death repeatedly, hadn’t witnessed bloody massacres and losses. “How does he do it?” she wondered.

So the hours passed, and the days drew to dusk, and she remained there, motionless in her bed, staring at a fixed point on the wall until her husband came home from work.

“Have you been lying there all day?” A voice jolted her from her daydream, making her startle. She didn’t like being caught off guard. “Side effects of Borderlands,” she thought.

Y/N nodded as she watched her husband undo his tie.

“Have you eaten?” Chishiya asked again.

Y/N shook her head. She hadn’t eaten, but Chishiya already knew that. Every morning, he would get up early, leaving his wife asleep, and prepare breakfast for both of them. He would leave with his coffee in hand and place another steaming cup on the table, and, as usual, Chishiya would return from work to find the cup exactly where he had left it, with all its contents untouched.

Chishiya never mentioned it to Y/N, hoping that if she got out of bed and found the cup as a surprise, it might motivate her to start a new day. But the days passed, and none seemed new to her. Chishiya would arrive, see the full cup, discard its contents, and slowly head to his room to find her once more lost in staring at a fixed point on the wall, absorbed in her thoughts, dead to the world.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Chishiya said as he rummaged through his work bag. He pulled out a few neatly folded papers and placed them on the bed before heading to the bathroom without looking back at the girl lying there. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but it hurt him. It hurt him deeply to see her like this, to see the once joyful, active, and lively girl slowly fading away, and he feared never being able to bring her back, losing her, and not having done enough to prevent it.

When Y/N heard the bathroom door close, she turned her gaze to the carefully folded papers on the bed. She knew her husband well enough to understand he hadn’t left them by accident. She reached out and picked them up, feeling their smooth and delicate texture. She unfolded them with reluctance, something trivial to any other person but monumental to her. As she laid the pages flat on her lap, she read the first line carefully: “Clinical Assessment of Depression Symptoms.” Y/N held the paper with both hands while her eyes raced to understand the document. It was written in medical jargon, something she would have asked Chishiya about under different circumstances, and he, with feigned annoyance, would have explained. But this time, her husband had left the papers there for her; she had to decipher the message, and it wasn’t too difficult.

Inside the bathroom, the water stopped running, and Y/N knew Chishiya would emerge any moment. For some inexplicable reason, she felt embarrassed that her husband might catch her with the papers in hand, so she folded them again and placed them back on the bed.

As expected, Chishiya took no more than 3 minutes to come out, and when he did, he cast a fleeting glance at the papers, which, judging by their placement, had been read.

“We don’t have food at home. I’m going to the supermarket in 10 minutes if you want to come,” the man said without looking at her, while rummaging through the closet for something to wear.

Y/N had been with Chishiya long enough to know that every word he spoke was meticulously considered and calculated, so it wasn’t hard for her to recall the text she had just read: “It is proven that walking at least 20 minutes a day improves mental health.” A sigh escaped her lips. The last thing she wanted at that moment was to get out of bed and get ready to go out, and when she was about to refuse, as she had every other time, an alarm seemed to go off in her mind, an alarm she had silenced for a long time that was now screaming for fresh air.

With no strength to respond and feeling unconvinced, Y/N nodded.

Chishiya had to wait on the sofa for more than 10 minutes before leaving the house, but he did so with a faint smile. He could be a cold and calculating man, but it was undeniable that he cared for her, even if he didn’t know how to show it, or did so in his own way.

When Y/N was ready, the man looked her up and down, hoping to see the familiar spark in her eyes. It wasn’t there. He still saw her lost gaze and pale complexion, and his heart ached seeing her look toward the door with distrust. Chishiya opened it with a loud creak that made the girl flinch. A flood of stimuli began to invade the house: the streetlights, the squeal of car wheels, a distant horn, and the chatter of people on the street. Y/N had grown accustomed to the absolute stillness of her dormant mind, and at that moment, the noise was overwhelming, so overpowering that the part of her brain demanding fresh air seemed to shut down, and she saw no reason to leave the comfort of her space. Her indecision must have been glaringly obvious, as all alarms went off in Chishiya’s mind, who remained calm by the door. Without a word, the man extended his arm toward the trembling, pale, and apathetic figure that was his wife. Y/N fixed her gaze on his open hand, and for a moment, the idea of touching Chishiya seemed appealing, letting a wave of nostalgia wash over her. That brief moment was enough for her to reach out and entwine her fingers with his, like a small child afraid to cross the street, and a shiver ran down her spine at the long-forgotten familiar touch.

Neither spoke as they crossed the threshold and Chishiya closed the door behind them. A bitter sensation lodged itself in the girl’s throat as she felt the door seal behind her, and the street she had known for years suddenly seemed more intimidating than ever, with the tall buildings towering over her, threatening to collapse at any moment, cars speeding away, and passersby moving briskly in all directions. For a moment, she remembered it all. All of it. And she felt her heart pound fiercely in her chest, and her eyes moisten with tears that threatened to spill at any moment. Her breathing caught in her throat, and the world seemed to close in around her.

Suddenly, a brief but strong squeeze of her hand pulled her out of her trance. Still breathing heavily, heart racing, and eyes full of tears, she looked at her husband. Chishiya was looking at her with calm resolve, as calm as he could be while his brain screamed at him to hug her and take her back to the comfort of her bed, but he was a doctor and understood clinically and analytically the chemical reactions occurring in his wife’s brain, plunging her into the deepest darkness. Summoning his courage, the man donned a serene, impassive, and even mask to hide his fears and worries, and with one last squeeze of her hand, a thousand unspoken words echoing behind, they both set out on their journey. Together.

© 2024 [@dreamwavesexploringreality]

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Hey everyone! 🌟 I hope you enjoyed reading this story! 😊 I really put my heart into capturing Chishiya’s character and how he might support his wife through her depression after Borderlands.

It’s kind of heartwarming to imagine him being a steady rock when things get tough, don’t you think? 💖✨