#if you think he looks familiar you are not wrong

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [4] - Ray of Light

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: A ray of light shines through the clouds.

Word Count: 4242 (to everyone who might be wondering why every chapter is turning 4k+... it's the martini I mean it baby)

CW: Smoking cigars, explicit language, mentions of sex

Series Masterlist

Logan was no stranger to the feeling of restlessness.

For him, it was around every corner; impossible to get away from. Even now, having just returned from the latest mission Charles had sent him on, he couldn’t help but feel like a caged animal, desperate to get out.

He gritted his teeth, slamming the door open to enter his room before he unzipped his suit and took it off, tossing it to the corner of the room. After putting his jeans and white shirt on, he ran a hand through his hair and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. Scott and Jean were already there, perched on the stools while Storm sat on the kitchen island, busy with a file. Rogue was rummaging through the fridge and Bobby was making a sandwich on the counter, still in his suit.

“Do we still not have beer in this place?” Logan asked to no one in particular and Storm looked over her shoulder.

“This place hasn’t stopped being a school since the last time you asked, so no.”

“Great,” he murmured. “Soda it is.”

“It’ll be good for your health,” Rogue said with a grin, then tossed him a bottle which he caught mid-air. He extended his arm in Bobby’s direction without a word and Bobby touched the bottle, making it ice cold.

“Thanks,” he grumbled and pulled himself a seat.

“Why are you in a bad mood?” Storm asked with a curious look in her eyes. “The mission was a success.”

“Is it because that guy almost stabbed you?” Bobby asked, making him frown.

“He didn’t almost stab me,” Logan said as Rogue closed the fridge, nibbling on a slice of pizza.

“When people stab you, do you get annoyed?” Bobby asked and Logan raised his brows.

“More annoyed than right now? Nah, it’s about the same.”

“To repeat, why are you so—” Jean started but stopped talking mid-sentence, a smile pulling at her lips. “Ah. I see.”

“What?”

“We were supposed to come back from this mission around afternoon,” she said. “And it’s Monday.”

Shit.

“Jean, stay out of my head.”

Jean grinned at him. “Oh I’m not in your head. Don’t need to be.”

Scott looked between them. “Is this about Theo’s mom?”

The impact of the simple question was almost instant on the small crowd in the kitchen. Storm immediately put the file in her lap aside to look at him, Bobby stopped making his sandwich and looked up from the jar of peanut butter he had stuck the knife in, and Rogue’s jaw dropped.

Great.

“Wait, seriously?” Bobby asked. “You and her—”

“There’s nothing,” Logan cut him off, forcing himself not to let his thoughts drift to her. “Scott has no idea what he’s talking about as usual.”

“You’re just pissed off because you’ll have to wait until Friday to see her again.”

Logan scoffed. “That has nothing to do with the situation.”

“I think you two would make a cute couple,” Storm said and Jean nodded.

“Oh absolutely.”

“Stop it, both of you,” Logan said with a frown. “And for your information, I could see her whenever I want.”

“I don’t think they’d make a good couple to be honest,” Bobby interfered, “I mean don’t get me wrong but you’re…” he motioned at him, making Logan raise his brows. “You.”

“Nothing gets past your observation skills, does it?” Logan deadpanned while Rogue suppressed a laugh and took another bite of her pizza.

“Opposites attract is definitely a thing.”

Logan opened his mouth to retort, but was instantly distracted when he heard familiar footsteps coming closer to the kitchen, making him look over his shoulder. It wasn’t long until Theo appeared at the door in his pajamas, making Rogue let out an “aw!”.

“Hi Theo.”

“Hi Miss Rogue!” Theo gave them a happy smile. “And Mr. Logan and Miss Storm and Mr. Cyclops and Miss Jean and Mr. Ice Man!”

Even Logan had to admit, the kid was adorable. Theo pushed his glasses up, blinking up at them while holding a huge tin container to his chest as the small crowd in the kitchen greeted him back, making his smile bigger.

“Hi bub,” Logan said and Theo waved at him with one hand while still clutching to the tin with the other.

“What are you doing up at this hour Theo?” Storm asked and Theo looked down at the tin container, then up at them again.

“Um—” he said. “Do you know my friend Ralph?”

Bobby tilted his head. “The fish guy?”

“Yeah!” Theo nodded fervently before pushing his glasses up again. “So he told me his mom never baked him cookies, and—I didn’t know moms didn’t bake cookies because mine does whenever I feel bad, so I told my mom about that and um…yesterday she baked cookies for me to bring here,” he said, pressing his index finger on the tin as if to emphasize his point. “Everyone had one but you weren’t around, Professor X said you were busy, and I stayed up late so that you could have some cookies as well.”

She had baked cookies.

For the whole school.

Logan had to remind himself it was the middle of the night so he couldn’t in fact go all the way to her apartment to see her and kiss her and—

Focus.

He had to focus.

But for fuck’s sake, it was almost agonizing at this point. She was actually, genuinely nice, as if it wasn’t enough that he couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful she was, how sweet she smelled, and just how much he wanted to—

Not going there, he forced himself to think. Focus.

Theo made his way to the kitchen island and stood up on his tiptoes to place the tin on the island, making Jean press a hand on her chest and Storm smile softly. Scott ruffled his hair, making him smile up at him.

“Thank you, Theo,” Jean said. “Please tell your mom we thank her as well.”

“Of course!” Theo said, his voice cheerful. “Good night!”

“Good night bub.”

“Good night Theo!”

“I’m so going to babysit when you two get together,” Rogue said through her teeth as if she was hanging by a thread while Bobby rushed to the container to open it the moment Theo left the kitchen. “I swear to God, Logan—”

“No, I agree with Bobby,” Scott said. “She’s too nice for him.”

Bobby pointed at Scott with the cookie he was holding while Logan flipped him and Storm grabbed two cookies, tossed one to Rogue and turned to Jean.

“I’ll fill Charles in about the mission, are you coming?”

“Sure,” she said and grabbed a cookie as well. “I’ll see you guys later.”

With that they both walked out of the kitchen, Storm talking about what an adorable kid Theo was before Bobby popped the cookie into his mouth, then let out a moan.

“Jesus this is too good!” he said. “No I’m serious Logan, she’s like actually pretty and nice and bakes cookies. When was the last time you did anything nice for us?”

“I saved your life like half an hour ago, dipshit,” Logan pointed out, making Rogue laugh. “And every word out of your mouth makes me think I should’ve sat that one out.”

Scott chuckled and took out a cookie out of the container, then nodded at Logan.

“Do you want to have one or do you want to go ring shopping—” he started but he was cut off when one of Bobby’s friends, Caleb, if Logan wasn’t mistaken, entered the kitchen.

“Storm said there were cookies?”

“Over there.” Bobby motioned at the kitchen island. “Theo’s mom made them.”

“Oh she's such a babe,” Caleb said as he reached out for the container, making Logan turn to him while Rogue made a face. “The things I’d do, seriously, the milf of my—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence when Logan grabbed his arm and slammed it to the counter while Rogue exclaimed “Ew, Caleb!” and Scott tilted his head.

“Logan,” he said, his voice completely calm. “We’re not slamming students to flat surfaces.”

Logan gritted his teeth, glaring at Caleb whose heartbeat got much faster, the unmistakable scent of fear lingering in the air.

“Caleb, right?” he growled. “Listen Caleb, the next time I hear you talk about her, or even look at her in any way,” He unsheathed his claws, causing Caleb to let out a whine. “I will rip your fucking tongue out. Do you understand?”

Caleb nodded fervently again and Logan clenched his jaw, then pulled his hand back and Bobby grabbed Caleb by his shirt.

“It’s his first time in public, that’s why he is like this,” he said helpfully, dragging him out of the kitchen. “You fucking dumbass….”

“Sure,” Scott said after a beat, turning to Logan. “There’s nothing going on between you and her.”

Logan sipped his soda. “Shut up.”

Scott held up his hands, mocking surrender.

“Just something to think about,” he said with a smirk. “I’m gonna go find Jean. Good night.”

“And I’m gonna find Bobby and smack Caleb,” Rogue said, pushing herself off the counter. “Good night Logan.”

“Good night kid,” Logan said as they both left the kitchen and he narrowed his eyes at the container on the kitchen island before making his way to it. He grabbed a cookie to bite into it, his eyes closing as the sweetness crumbled inside his mouth, making him let out a breath.

A scene flashed before his eyes, something out of a dream; him in a cabin in the woods with her in his arms. He buried his nose into her neck, inhaling her sweet scent into his lungs as he pressed her warm body against his, her heartbeat getting faster before he forced himself to open his eyes again, taking a deep breath.

“Keep it together,” he muttered to himself and popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth, then pushed himself off the counter and made his way upstairs.

                                         *

Throughout the week, it was one mission after the other. He was beginning to think Charles was doing it on purpose, and when Friday finally arrived, as much as he hated to admit, he could barely focus on anything else.

“Come on, to the lake!” one of the boys said as he walked past them. “Ralph, where’s Theo?”

“Professor X wanted to see him, and I think he left already,” he heard the boy say. “Ugh, I was gonna show him this new fish in the lake! It’s huge!”

 Left?

No, he was still around. Logan could hear his happy chatter with someone through the chatter of the crowd but her scent wasn’t anywhere near so he followed Theo’s voice downstairs, stepping out of the building before—

“Have a nice weekend Mr. Logan!”

Logan’s head whipped around as Theo waved at him, then looked up to the man beside him as he took off his backpack so that the man could take it from him. “Uncle Jamie, this is Mr. Logan!”

What the fuck?

“Who the hell are you?” Logan asked the brunette, making him frown at the apparent hostility in his voice, but he didn’t dwell on it.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m Jamie. I’m picking up the little guy today.”

“No you’re not,” Logan scoffed. “Do we even know who you are?”

“You don’t, but the school does,” Jamie said after a beat. “I appreciate the caution but his mother called Professor Xavier beforehand to let him know, so it’s okay.”

“Uncle Jamie, Mr. Logan helped mommy out with the car when it broke down, and he drove her home the other day, I heard mommy talk about it with auntie Julie!”

Jamie tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “…How helpful of him.”

“And Uncle Jamie is the hero who saved me when I was in mommy’s belly, Mr. Logan!” Theo introduced him, making Logan raise his brows.

“Is that right?”

“I was an intern, Theo was a premature birth.”

 “And you do years long follow up with all your patients or is this one a special case?” Logan asked as a dry smile twitched Jamie’s mouth before he clicked his tongue.

“It is,” he said. “I could ask you the same question though. Do you drive every parent home, or is this one a special case?”

Okay no, he did not like this prick.

However, Theo was right there so he had to mind his language, for his sake.

“You know what Theo, I’m pretty sure I just heard your friends say they were going to the lake,” Logan said, making Theo’s eyes widen. “They were talking about this huge fish. Do you want to go with Uncle Jamie or do you want to stick around a little to see that fish?”  

“Really?!”

“Go ahead,” Logan said. “Uncle Jamie will wait. Won’t you, bub?”

Theo didn’t even wait for Jamie’s answer as he darted for the yard, and Jamie gritted his teeth, shaking his head slightly.

“Unbelievable…” he muttered. “Are you even a teacher here?”

“Sometimes,” Logan said with a shrug of his shoulders and Jamie hummed, then took out his phone and touched the screen before taking it to his ear, waiting for the other line to pick up.

“Hi Jamie!”

It was almost funny, how her soft voice managed to put Logan in a better mood instantly but he tried not to think about it.

“Hi sunshine,” Jamie said, making Logan frown. “Listen, Theo wants to hang out with his friends a little more. Should I wait or…?”

“No no, you go back to the hospital,” she said. “I’ll leave in like an hour or so anyway. It’s a good thing that he’s socializing so um—just, let him.”

“You sure?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “Thank you again Jamie, really.”

“No problem honey.”

“You can follow the way back,” Logan said, nodding in the direction of the gates when Jamie hung up and he heaved a sigh.

“I know your type, you know?”

“I doubt it.”

“No no, I do,” Jamie said, motioning at him. “This whole tough guy bullshit isn’t gonna impress her.”

A cocky smirk curled his lips. “What, are you threatened?”

Jamie scoffed a laugh.

“That’s not what this is,” he said. “It’s just that I’ve known you for five minutes and I can already tell she deserves better than you.”

That—

That was true actually. Even Logan knew that; hell, he had been trying to make himself understand that ever since he had met her, but no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t.

Knowing it wasn’t enough to make him stop thinking about her.

“Guess you and I have one thing in common then,” Logan stated. “But I seem to be making better progress in a month than you have in years, huh?”

Jamie shook his head.

“See you around,” he said before he walked away and Logan took a deep breath, then ran a hand through his hair.

“Asshole…” he muttered and made his way through the yard to keep an eye on Theo in case he got too close to the lake.

                                       *

The strange thing wasn’t that he smelled her the minute she arrived.

It was what her scent did to him.

As soon as the familiar sweetness tickled his nostrils, his head snapped up and he looked around, then got up from the bench he was sitting on, painfully aware of his heartbeat getting faster. He strode through the yard, away from where Theo and his friends were running around and towards the gates, where her scent was stronger.

He couldn’t help but notice she didn’t smell like him.

Jamie.

He had no idea why he was getting so worked up on the existence of that asshole, but somehow that detail alone managed to soothe the hot jealousy running through his veins. He knew Jamie had a point, he had been saying the same thing to himself ever since he met her, yet it didn’t mean…

There she was.

He didn’t know how she managed to look everyone and everything else in shadows where she herself was the only thing illuminated as if she had her own ray of sunlight falling over her. The mere sight of her was enough to make him stare at her as she waved at him, her heart pacing in her chest as soon as her eyes fell on him, the pleasant sound nearly deafening in his ears—

No.

He had to focus.

Logan had seen wild animals in captivity before. How they would be straining at their leash, how they would be slamming against their cage, nearly blind with the desire to be let loose and lately, whenever she was around, she had the same effect on him.

“Hey stranger!” she said with a bright smile as she reached him. “Are you okay? You seem…tense.”

Shit.

“Me?” Logan asked. “Nah. Hi.”

Good string of sentences there.

“Hi,” she said, looking up at him. “Look at that, you’re here.”

Logan pulled his brows together. “I live here.”

“No no, I meant—” her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening at the misunderstanding. “Right, of course you do. It’s just that, when I dropped Theo off on Monday you weren’t here, not that I noticed—disclaimer, I definitely did notice in case it has escaped your notice—but you know, I figured you were busy, and then Theo said…”

Alright, why did he find this cute?

Since when did he find things cute?

“And he must’ve seen someone’s suit or something because now he wants one, and I told him he can have one for Halloween but guess who didn’t think that through, because now I’ll have to tell Julie, she’s the arts and crafts person to go to in a situation like this. I’m just going to bribe her with cookies which is everyone’s favorite payment method I feel like …”

Don’t kiss her.

Do not kiss her.

A part of him wanted to go check with Charles to make sure he wasn’t fucking with his mind, to make sure she wasn’t a figment of his imagination because this wasn’t normal. Having her within his reach, all he could think about was pulling her closer, kissing her and taking her to his bed upstairs, to taste her until the only thing left in her mind was his name, her body trembling, her soft voice hoarse while she begged for—

“And I’ll stop talking now because you’re giving me that look again, do I have something on my face?”

Fuck.

She was looking up at him with a small frown pinching her brows together so he shook his head and said the first thing he could come up with:

“I tried the cookies.”

…Yeah no, Charles had to be fucking with his mind to make him this tongue tied.

“Did you?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you like it?” she asked, her heartbeat getting faster like she was nervous to hear the answer and Logan nodded his head.

“It was amazing,” he said, making her let out a breath, a happy light shining in her eyes.

“Really?”

“I’m serious,” Logan said, “The best cookie I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Aw, that’s wonderful!” she said, smiling wide. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone who doesn’t like chocolate chip cookies, so when Theo mentioned his friend I figured— do you know where he is by the way?”

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

“By the lake with his friends,” he said. “Come on, I’ll take you.”

“Finally in the welcoming tour committee huh?” she joked as she started walking beside him and he chuckled.

“Only for you.”

“Much appreciated,” she said. “I was gonna come earlier actually but there was this thing at work, it was a disaster.”

“What happened?”

“Well, the grill stopped working around the lunch hour,” she said. “They fixed it but waiting for food makes people very grumpy. There was this one customer, he…” she made a face, making him frown.

“What?”

“He was in a very bad mood but thankfully he calmed down when I gave him ice tea on the house.”

Logan shook his head slightly. “You should stop being so nice to people, princess.”

That seemed to make her heart skip a beat, causing a small smile to curl his lips while her hand shot up to her mouth for her to bite at her nail.

“In my defense, that’s not being nice, that’s just being in the service industry,” she mumbled. “Good thing it was fixed fast though.”

Logan hummed.

“So…” he trailed off. “Uncle Jamie then?”

“Oh, you’ve met him?”

“I was around,” Logan lied through his teeth. “When he came here.”

“Yeah, Theo adores him,” she said, nodding her head. “Jamie saved his life when he was an intern—fun fact, some doctors don’t take you seriously when you’re pregnant at 18 and completely clueless, so I knew something was wrong but he was the only one who believed me. He got chewed out by his supervisor but he ended up saving Theo’s life.”

Logan frowned, distracted from the Jamie issue for a moment.

“His father wasn’t there?”

“Nope,” she said with a bitter smile. “He was uh…busy.”

What the fuck?

“Do you know where he is now?” Logan asked, anger shooting through him and she let out a laugh.

 “He’s in the past,” she said. “And he should stay there.”

 He wanted to insist, he really did. The guy sounded like the type of asshole who really needed to get his ass beaten, but before he could ask, she had already changed the subject.

“But yeah, Jamie is amazing,” she said. “He’s very protective, he’s like the brother I never had.”

He bit back the pleased smile threatening to pull at his lips at the second part of that sentence and hummed.

“Yeah?” he said. “Does he know that?”

“Hm?”

“That he’s the brother you never had?”

She blinked up at him in confusion, her brows pinching together before a look of realization downed on her beautiful face, her heartbeat getting faster.

“He does,” she said, nodding her head. “So does his boyfriend.”

…Ah.

He had misunderstood the situation.

That had to be what Jamie meant when he had said “That’s not what this is,” he wasn’t trying to get with her, he was genuinely cautious about strangers such as himself. That whole exchange made sense now, considering the story about him saving Theo’s life; he had met her when she was alone, and had been trying to keep her and Theo safe ever since.

Of course.

“And he’s in a very happy relationship with him,” she added. “Unlike—you know, unlike me who’s not in a relationship at all, totally single. Not that you asked but it’s like…it’s like general trivia about me, and—whoa, today is a hot day isn’t it? Because honestly, it wasn’t this hot when I left the car—”

“Mom!”

“Oh thank God,” she muttered as she turned her head to look at Theo who was running at full speed to them and Logan bit back his grin as Theo reached them and flung himself into her arms.

“I missed you bean!” she said, hugging him tight and kissing the top of his hair. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah!” Theo said, his glasses slipping as he nodded fervently and she pushed them up again with a fond look on her face. The sight sent a warmth through Logan’s chest, a smile he didn’t even notice curling his lips. “We saw a big fish!”

“Really?” she gasped, her whole attention on him, hanging onto every word he said. “How big was it?”

“This big!” Theo spread his arms as wide as he could, making her smile widen.

“Whoa, that sounds big!” she said. “What color was it?”

She was too good at this. Even an outsider could see how excited Theo was to tell her everything, how genuinely happy he was to have her there and how attentive she was with him.

“Gray,” Theo answered. “Mom, maybe it’ll grow up to be a shark!”

Logan tilted his head and she exchanged glances with him as if telling him not to tell Theo it would not in fact grow up to be a shark, and Logan winked at her, making her giggle.

“Maybe,” she said, turning to Theo. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Theo said and she fixed his shirt, then took his backpack from him to swing it over her shoulder.

“Say goodbye to Logan.”

“Goodbye Mr. Logan!”

Logan ruffled his hair. “Have a great weekend bub.”

“I’ll see you around?” she asked and Logan couldn’t help but stare at her beautiful face before reminding himself to pull himself together.

“Yeah,” he said, trying to focus. “Don’t be too nice to people until then.”

Her smile widened and she heaved a sigh, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Don’t be too mean to people until then,” she replied and took Theo’s hand, walking away with him. He could hear her asking what else he had seen in the lake and Theo listing every single fish he had seen so he watched them until they were out of his line of sight, then let out a breath.

“Fuck…” he muttered, frowning to himself. “She’s beautiful, got it. Get your shit together.”

[solbaby7]

Hii could I please get a neat Moscow mule with a salt rim ❤️

🧉here you go 💗💗

[ “i don’t like the way he / she looks at you” + smut + az ]

-> BLURB BAR <-

There had always been whispers about Illyrian males and the possessive streak that scorches its way through their veins. How it awakened with their first cry at birth and remains until their last breath.

You’d never thought you’d witness it firsthand.

Seeing that shift in Azriel’s features is unmistakable. The comfortable lines of his stoicism usually rests heavy along his brow bone, casting shadows along his eyes until the rich amber of his iris is stark in contrast. Even then, you’re used to seeing some semblance of warmth residing in there but the danger lingering within them now is staggering—forces the object of his surveillance to raise a hand to the back of their neck, eyes scanning the crowd for the culprit.

Az is too good to be caught though. Too skilled to be seen. A wolf that blends in seamlessly in a crowd full of sheep and he detects it immediately when another predator is present. “Who is that?”

You follow his line of sight, grumbling in distaste almost instantly when you notice that familiar tuft of curly blonde hair. “Tyson,” His brow raises at your tone, stance sturdy and arms crossed over his chest. You can feel the heat radiating off of him; briefly acknowledging the sentient shadows that nudge you in closer, partially hiding you behind his bulk. Protecting what they deemed as theirs. “—but all the Valkyrie’s call him tick.”

“Tick.”

“Yeah,” Your head nods along in confirmation, fingers hooking in the loops of your leathers to shimmy them up higher on your hips. “‘Cause he latches on like one—damn near impossible to shake.”

There’s a brief pause, a rumble of a noise vibrating through his chest like a lion in wait that rests on its haunches. Azriel’s prey drive is triggered, specially attuned to the way Tyson leans casually against a post, blue eyes trained on you while you warm up, taking time admiring the way your leathers fit like second skin. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

He’s skilled with a sword, Az notes, but that wandering eye is sure to get him killed. The shadowsinger can feel the way his fingers form into fists when Tyson’s gaze meanders down the slope of your back and settles around the generous curve of your ass. It wobbles temptingly as you practice, core tight and form stunning as all sorts of daggers are shot through the air at warp speed.

Every blade hits its respective bullseye.

You're one hell of a prize. One that Tyson so foolishly thinks he’s good enough to win.

Shoulders square, feet apart, knees ever so slightly bent. Even breaths as you line up the next blade, eying where you wish for it to land. "How does he look at me?"

"Like he wants to fuck you."

You pray he doesn't notice the way your body freezes in place, grip faltering on the hilt of your dagger. A thick swallow, throat clumsily clearing and lashes fluttering with nerves as you make a point to keep your face forward. "How would you know what that looks like?"

"Because, I want to fuck you." Thighs clench at the flippant way he says it—so casually. Like it's common knowledge. As if he hasn't just rendered you speechless and filled you full of want off one sentence alone. The smell of him engulfs you when he closes the distance, his chest to your back. Shadows teasing at the sides of your thighs like phantom palms that waste no time memorizing the new terrain. "You're holding that wrong."

"Am I?" More intelligent words are robbed right off of your tongue when he presses against you, the weight of his growing erection digging into your spine, teasing around the dimples that rest right above your ass. You can't help but lean into him, allowing him to adjust your fingers around the daggers hilt.

Never once had you thought such a simple touch could ignite this kind of spark within you. A fire that damn near burns you alive; it begins in the pit of your stomach, gnawing at organs and muscle, tearing through soft tendons and sinew in its desperation for release. "Like this, baby." His lips graze the curve of your ear, forcing goosebumps to assault your skin.

Azriel doesn't adjust a thing about your form. Instead, he openly gropes at the fat of your hips. Slides his palm possessively over the soft swell of your abdomen. Trails a hand up the crease of your breasts until a five finger grip is curling its way around your throat. "What are you doing?" You whisper, craning your neck to provide more access. Allowing the steady pressure squeezing at your jugular.

He's putting on one hell of a show.

Staring that blonde bastard right in the eye as he drags his nose along your temple, pressing his lips against your skin just because he can. "Pest control." A thick thigh nudges its way between your legs, the bulk of Azriel's body blocking you from all peering eyes but one.

Tyson vibrates with rage as Az guides your hips, dragging your clothed cunt along solid muscle until lids flutter and lips part. It's an agonizing kind of pleasure—one that's everything and nothing at the same time. Stimulating but not fully satisfying when you really crave the turgid length of his cock that strains against his leathers.

It takes a second too long to realize that he's not really doing this with your pleasure in mind.

He barely pays you any real attention as discreet shadows creep under your top to twist at taut nipples, squeezing and pulling until the heartbeat in your chest travels all the way down to your pussy.

No, he merely uses you as a pawn. Plucking and toying, licking and biting at the junction of your neck until all that can be scented on you is arousal and Illyrian. "Az, I'm gonna—"

"Not yet, sweet thing. Want him to look at you when you cum for me."

[unequivocallyreid]

Why Didn’t You Tell Me?

it has been SO long... i was suffering from serious writers block but it think i'm finally out of it :)

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: Spencer Reid used to be your best friend, but things changed. How long can you pretend that you don't love him before it ruins you?

warnings: angst! (with a happy ending), smut (unprotected piv), character loss, mention of Maeve, very sad Spencer, mental health struggles, light choking, fighting, slight praise kink

wc: 8.8k 🤗

i’m very proud of this one! i hope you love it!

Every morning when you wake up, you feel a familiar and creeping sort of dread in the pit of your stomach.

Don’t get the wrong idea; you love your job. You love helping people and stopping horrible people from ruining any more lives, but the creeping feeling and desire to get out is always in the corner of your mind. Anyone working in this field would tell you that. There’s no absolute separation between you and the victims and their families. You take all of them home with you, and you just have to learn how to deal with that and not let it eat at you.

It doesn’t help that it’s an isolating job as well. The last time you were in a serious relationship was in college. Now, every date you have ends in disappointment. Not only do you lack interest in most of the men and women, but it couldn’t go anywhere even if you did. 75% of your time is spent in the office, on a jet, or hundreds of miles away from your home.

All of this contributes to the feeling, but the worst part of your job is Dr. Spencer Reid.

He’s secretive and dismissive and just about the most attractive person you’d ever seen. You honestly don’t know what is worse: his constant physical presence in your life or the fact that you can’t stop thinking about him no matter what you do. You’ve tried to get over it; you’ve buried yourself in work, lamented to your friends, and gone out on dates (all with guys that looked vaguely similar), but nothing has worked. All his worst traits grate your nerves and light you up at the same time.

The worst part of it all is that it wasn’t always like this. When you first joined the BAU nearly two years ago, you and Spencer got along well. You were friends, he talked to you about his life, he understood you, and you really severely fell for him. He became your best friend.

Everything changed around six months ago. Spencer started to develop migraines, and as those developed, he started distancing himself from you. He became snippy and closed off, he started hiding things from you, and he stopped talking to you about life outside of Quantico. It was like overnight, you became nothing to him, and you really didn’t understand. Everyone else on the team got the same old Spencer, but you went from his right-hand man to someone he only spoke to when it was necessary.

Maybe he didn’t deserve to be vilified. You know, realistically, he can and should be able to decide who he wants to be close to, but working with a man who unknowingly broke your heart was close to the hardest thing you’d ever done. So, you decided hating him was easier. The real emotions you feel toward him sit somewhere inside you, but they have been covered by manufactured distaste. Addressing the actual feeling would hurt too bad, so you pretend to hate the things you used to love.

Nothing, however, could have prepared you for the last case you worked on: helping Spencer save a girl he met about six months ago, a girl he loved. You tried to stay collected, you said nothing when Spencer assisted when he shouldn’t have, and goddamn, did you do everything in your power to find that girl. Maeve. She was perfect for Spencer, and you saw that immediately. Everyone did. The sight of him sobbing in front of her body is one that will never leave your mind.

Now, two weeks later, no one has heard from Reid. The only indication that he hasn’t abandoned his life altogether is the absence of the gift baskets on his doorstep that Pen leaves daily.

Nearly everyone has been to his apartment, but they are met with a closed door and have yet to receive a response. Everyone but you.

Penelope is the first to bring up your lack of appearance at the end of a long day of paperwork.

“Y/n, please, you just have to try. No one is getting anything from him.”

“I really don’t think my presence would do any good,” you pause for a moment, trying to collect the thoughts running through your head like a freight train. “Me and him haven’t been close in a long time, Pen.”

Before you can continue, she cuts in, “Everyone has tried, Y/n. Hell, I’ve even considered tracking down Gideon, and I really, really do not want to do that.”

She pauses for a moment before looking up at you with a pout on her face, “Please, Y/n, for me. I can’t bear the thought of him in there all alone, just wasting away in grief.”

For someone who claims not to be a profiler, Penelope knew exactly what to say to get you to agree. She’s the only person in your life who you told about how you felt, though you’re sure everyone else (aside from Spencer) knew: you’re shit at keeping secrets.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try.”

She nearly bursts with excitement, “Thank God-“

You cut her off before she can finish, “But I’m telling you, I’m not the person he wants to hear from right now. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Yes, yes. I just want him to know we all want him to be okay.”

Before you can hurry out of the office to follow Pen’s instructions, she stops you and hands you a basket full of assorted snacks and fruits.

“Make sure he eats!”

The walk up to Spencer’s apartment is a hard one to take. The smell of his building hits you as soon as you step into the lobby. From there, everything rushes back at once. Memories of nights you spent watching reruns of Doctor Who or listening to him prattle off about whatever he last read assault you with every step. As you slowly make your way up, you start to question why you agreed to do this in the first place.

You feel a lot toward Reid. More than you should and less than you could. But all that care and feelings that are so close to love aren’t enough to make you forget why you’ve been trying to hate him for so long. He deserted you without an explanation and cut you off without a warning. You spent weeks (three months) crying over him like a love-struck teen. So, as much as you want to hold him and comfort him, you know it’ll hurt you to do so. Penelope sent you, with the whole team’s approval, you’re sure, to try to patch up a broken heart he got loving someone else. There’s a sickness in your gut, but it’s not enough to stop you from rapping your knuckles against his door.

“Spencer? It’s Y/n.”

There’s no response.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear from me right now, but I want to make sure you’re alright. Can you tell me you’re alright?”

Again, nothing.

You know he’s there. Despite your lack of communication, you know Spencer well enough to know that he would never leave his life behind entirely. That being said, your next few attempts at garnering a response are unsuccessful.

You decide to try one final time before just leaving the basket alone on his doorstep and texting Pen it was a bust.

“There’s a lot I don’t know about you now, and I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling.”

You don’t exactly know where this is headed, but you continue on regardless.

“I know you’re in there, and I know you can hear me, and I know you’re hurting. You shouldn’t- I don’t want you to be alone right now, Spence. You can either unlock your door, or I can pick it, but I’m coming in one way or the other. You know I will.”

You wouldn’t, actually. It’s a last-ditch effort, and it’s met with the same silence you’ve heard on the other side for the past ten minutes. You’re about to turn to head back down the stairs when you hear the very faint sound of a deadbolt turning.

There’s no other sound or movement, and for a moment, you think you might’ve imagined the sound, but you try the handle anyway. It turns, and the door slides open. You take a step in.

“Spencer,” you call out to him.

You don’t see him at first in the mess of his apartment, but when you do, you feel a crack form in your heart.

Beyond the clutter of his entryway, you see his back on the couch. His frame looks smaller than you’ve ever seen it, and you can see his legs curled into his chest. You set down the gift basket by a collection of others on the entry table and walk over to him. Slowly, like you’re trying not to spook a lost dog, you creep in front of him.

His head is down, and his gaze stays trained on his knees.

You reach out your hand and lay it over his. He flinches but doesn’t pull away.

“Spence, I’m so glad you opened the door.”

You didn’t plan out what you would say, but ‘sorry’ feels redundant and useless.

You go on, “I’m here. I- I don’t know what to do or say, and I’m sorry that I don’t. I can get someone else for you. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

You wait for him to say he wants Penelope or JJ, but it doesn’t come. Nothing comes. You start to move to get up, figuring you could clean up a bit and try to make him something to eat, then go, but he grasps your arm before you can.

He looks up at you, and his eyes hit you right in the gut. They’re bloodshot and sunken but still beautiful.

“Stay. Please. I just- I need to know I’m not dreaming. I keep thinking I’m dreaming.”

His voice is croaky from disuse and breaks at the end, but it’s so heartbreakingly earnest that you feel your breath catch. You move from your crouch and sit beside him on the couch; your hand is still in his.

You stay like that for a long time. His breathing is shakey and uneven, and every so often, his body shakes with what you can only assume are sobs. You stay pressed to his side the whole time, thumb rubbing back and forth over his hand.

Eventually, you speak again, “I’m gonna get you some food, Spence. You should eat.”

He says nothing back, but he does loosen his grip. You push yourself up from the coach with a promise you’ll be as fast as possible.

His kitchen is nearly empty, and you hope he’s been eating from the baskets. Still, you find enough to make noodles and butter, and you figure the carbs should help his energy some.

You return with the bowl. Spencer hasn’t moved, but his head follows you as you walk back over to him.

“It’s not fine dining.”

He studied you for a second, and you catch a glimpse of the old him in his eye.

“You did the same thing when I was sick on a case a year ago.”

You smile at his recollection.

“It helped you then.”

The rest of the night is spent mostly in silence. Occasionally, you tell him something to try to remind him that you’re there and that you won’t leave as long as he wants you there. Eventually, you get up from the couch again.

“Spencer, it’s too late to still be awake.”

He nods and still says nothing, but he is far more receptive than before. You reach your hand out to him to help him up from the couch, and he takes it.

He leads you to his room at a slow pace. His head stays down as you both take a seat on his bed, hands still interlocked. Being in his bedroom is odd for you. You’ve been to his apartment quite a few times before he disappeared from your life, but you never breached this space. It’s all very him. Almost surprisingly cozy, with books scattered around nearly everywhere there’s space.

You take in the moment for a beat before saying, “I’m gonna head home, Spencer, but please call me if you need anything at all. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

This makes his head snap up, and his eyes lock with yours.

“Please stay.”

That’s all he says, but every part of him is pleading with you. It’s not a good idea, and you know it. You’re the only person he’s seen in days, you aren’t close anymore, and you don’t particularly want to sleep on a couch tonight.

“Spencer, I don’t want to sleep in your living room tonight. I’ll come back.”

He pauses for a moment, “You can stay here with me. I don’t want to be alone.”

Your heart cracks again. There was a time when this was all you wanted. It’s still, deep down, all you want, just not like this. You know he doesn’t really want you there and he’s not himself. But you aren’t strong enough to say no, so you don’t.

He gets you clothes to wear, and you change in his bathroom. You come out and find him in his bed, laying with his back to you. You have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you get into bed next to him anyways. There are a thousand thoughts racing through your head, but the prevailing one is how badly you want to touch him, to hold him, to make him forget, just for the night. You stay still, though, confined to the edge of the bed and start to count to drown out the noise.

Though, you can’t drown out his voice, saying, “Can- Could you hold me? I think that everything feels better when you touch me.”

Another crack. By the end of this, you know Spencer Reid is going to break your heart all over again.

~

When you wake up the next morning, Spencer is still asleep. You sneak out of his room and call Hotch. When he answers, you tell him Spencer has let you in, and you ask for time off to try to help. You can tell from his voice that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but he grants you it anyway.

Much of your day is spent like the night before. You stay next to Spencer, and you cook for him after leaving to pick up clothes and groceries. Then, you get him to shower and wash his hair. He sleeps with his head in your lap, and you feel like a fucking idiot at first, but as long as it’s helping him in some way, you let it happen.

That’s the thing: you don’t really know how to help him. You know he isn’t the type to talk about something until he is entirely ready, so all you can do is add something domestic and bright to his life while he grieves. It’s all you can think about in the moments of silence. Hell, you even read to him to try and get your mind off of it, but it barely helps.

The night is the same. You change in different rooms and slip into his bed at different times. You feel dirty for imagining what it would be like if the circumstances were different: if he wanted you like you have wanted him for the past two years. You hold him against you, and you pray for sign that you should be there.

The sign comes the following morning when Derek calls you.

“Y/n…”

You can hear his teasing tone over the phone.

“Hi, Derek.”

“What are you doing, mamas?”

You sigh, “What do you mean?”

You’re playing coy. You know he’s wondering why you’re at Spencer’s house, picking up the pieces, but you won’t be the one to bring it up.

“Why’d you ask Hotch for the week off, Y/n?”

Another sigh, “You know why, Derek. I just, I want to help him.”

“I know you do, Y/n, I know.”

He pauses for a moment, and you let the moment fill with silence.

“I know you care about him. We all care about him. But who is taking care of you?”

“I am. I can take care of him, and I can take care of me.”

“I know you can, but I don’t want you to get hurt, Y/n. Don’t let this be something that hurts you.”

“It won’t. I- You have to- Fuck, I’ll be fine. He’s not fine. I don’t care about me or any feelings that may get hurt right now. I’ll be fine.”

There’s another bear of silence, “Okay, Y/n. Just know you’re allowed to tap out.”

You try to think of anything else to say, but nothing comes, so you say your goodbyes.

You won’t need to tap out. You can take care of him and be good to him and ignore the other feelings you have. You can be good.

The call does make you think it’s time to push, to try harder, to help him get better. So, you approach him that day before bed, before he tucks himself into your arms and falls into a fretful sleep.

“Spencer?”

He takes a moment and then responds, “Yes?”

“You have to talk about it. I think that you need to talk about it. It doesn’t have to be to me but to someone.”

He’s quiet for a long time, and your breath is caught in your throat, waiting for him to say anything.

“I- I don’t want to,” his voice cracks while he says it.

“Spence, you can’t come back if you don’t. You can’t move forward if you don’t.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

A ringing echos in your ears.

“You don’t mean that. She- she would want you to keep going.”

Wrong thing to say.

“You don’t know anything about what she would want.”

He’s seething now, below the surface, but smoke has started to plume from his ears. Still, you don’t stop.

“Spencer, everyone knows that. No one would want you to put your life on hold.”

He speaks his next line through his teeth, “You don’t know anything, Y/n.”

You’ve never heard him sound so angry.

“Spencer-“

“No, just stop. You don’t know her. You don’t know me half as well as you think you do. You don’t know anything. I don’t even know why you’re here. I don’t want you here. You can't be what I need.”

The ringing in your ears is louder.

“Spencer, please. Just-“

“No!” His voice is raised now, bordering on a yell, “I don’t want you here. I want you out, Y/n.”

This has to be what shell shock feels like. The ringing, the tingle in your limbs, and the heat in your face. You don’t know how you are moving, but you are.

His voice is echoing in your head, or maybe he’s still talking, but you can’t tell either way. The only thing you can focus on is how Spencer sounded like he hates you and that Morgan was right about the hurt.

~

You spend the next day trying desperately to shut down the noise in your head. It doesn’t work. The day after is the same. And the days following that. You ignore calls when they come, you ignore the texts, but you can’t stop looking at your phone for a message from the man who fills your thoughts.

Spencer doesn’t call, obviously, and you have to sit with a pit in your stomach while you beg yourself to just get the fuck over it. Two years of reckoning with the severity of your love, months of watching him live happily without you, and it’s the three days you spent trying to help him feel incrementally better that floor you.

You feel like a dumb teenage girl with so much love and nothing to do with it. On top of everything, you feel selfish. Spencer lost the love of his life forever, and you’re nursing the worst heartbreak of your life because a boy will never want you and never has. Still, you send out prayers for him over and over. You hope you’ll see him in the BAU again, even if his eyes glaze over you. Hell, even if they look at you with hate the way they did two days ago. You just want him to function. You want him to be good and eventually be happy. You try to go to bed with soothing thoughts, but you end up with a mantra of his name.

You wake to your alarm and dress for work before you realize you aren’t actually supposed to go back yet. You never set a date to return. You wanted to be open as long as Spencer needed you. You’re supposed to be with him. You’re supposed to be helping and not tapping out. But you aren’t.

You have no reason not to return to the bullpen, so you do. You walk in and feel eyes on you. You wait for Morgan to call out to you, but he doesn’t, so you follow the feeling.

Your breath catches in your throat; it’s Spencer. He’s sitting at his desk, paperwork spread out, and he doesn’t look away from your gaze; he just holds it. His face is unreadable, and yours is definitely not, so you look away first. You don’t look up again until you reach Hotch’s office. You knock and hear him call out to come in.

“I’m back if that’s okay.”

He looks up at you, and you want to cry. You know he can read you. He has always been the best at it.

“Are you okay with that, Y/l/n?”

You lock eyes with him, “Yes, sir.”

It’s no use; he knows your tells and you aren’t being honest.

“Alright, conference room in five.”

Whatever he sees in your face, he ignores and takes you at your word, but there’s a warning in his tone. He knows when to let things go and when to push. More than that, though, he knows you’d never let something like this affect your work.

~

The first case back is in Maryland, and the one after is in Austin, and the next is in Philadelphia with The Replicator. The job takes you all over the country, and the cases blend together. You don’t speak to Spencer through all of it. You’re never partnered, never work together, you sit on opposite ends of the jet. You don’t even speak at Strauss’ funeral. It’s radio silent, and everyone notices it, but no one brings it up.

In that time, you allow yourself to slip away slightly. You don’t go out with the team, you see Pen at nearly half frequency, and basically, the only time you speak is on cases. It’s stupid and melodramatic, but you call it healing. Derek tries to reason with you, JJ sticks to you a bit more than usual, and Penelope calls you virtually whenever she can, but their efforts are mostly in vain. This is your way of protecting yourself. You feel like you have to isolate in order to improve, and you know, given time, you will come back to yourself.

Penelope’s insistence that you go to her Day of the Dead celebration breaks your distance.

“Y/n, please come. I know you aren’t going out, but you have to. I know you have people to honor, and I need you there.”

You sigh, “Whose going, Pen?”

“The team, which you are a part of, so you must be there.”

“I don’t think I can do that. I promise you I will celebrate with you. I’ll help you set up, just please don’t make me go.”

Penelope pauses, but the glint in her eye keys you into the fact that she is not interested in giving up.

“We miss you, Y/n. Everyone loves you and misses you. You’ve been living this stupid, isolated life, and it’s time for you to come back. You are not this person. I refuse to believe it. You’re coming, and that’s final.”

Maybe you don’t have the energy to argue, or maybe you know she’s right, but you agree to go.

~

The thought of seeing him makes your heart race, and the clock you keep glancing at makes it worse. Just a few more hours before you're trapped in a confined space (Pen’s beautiful home) with a man you haven’t spoken to in weeks.

You busy yourself with preparing. Lights are hung, food is made, and you make a trip to the store while Pen sets up her remembrance table. When everything is said and done, you can’t help but feel this is the most beautiful thing you’ve been a part of in a long time.

The first knock comes at 7:30 exactly, and it’s Hotch and Rossi. They are followed closely by Blake, then Derek and JJ. By 7:00, the atmosphere is light and loving, and you feel a bit of your anxiety let up as the minutes go by without Reid. But, eventually, the knock comes, of course it does, and you move into a corner as Spencer walks in. You feel a shift in energy, though you doubt it’s palpable for anyone else. Rossi is the first to make his way over to you, and his presence comforts you nearly immediately.

“How you doing, kid?” His voice is soft like he’s speaking to a scared rabbit.

“I’m better,” you say, and it’s about as honest as you can get. As much as you’d like to think he knows nothing about what’s gone on, you’re smarter than that. He’s the best profiler on the team, and he’s always known when someone was off with you. Even so, you are better than you were, even if you aren’t quite good, and you know he believes you.

There’s some idle conversation between you before he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not tonight. I don’t know when, but I will. Eventually, I will.”

It’s good enough for him, and you move on easily, which surprises you.

Right before Pen gathers you all to present your photos, he says, “Sometimes we think we’ve seen the whole picture, but we miss a big part. People do things because they don’t want to be hurt, but those things hurt them more. Just, be open.”

You don’t quite understand what he means, but you hope you will.

Penelope presents the first picture, which shows her parents. JJ honors her sister, Derek, his dad, Hotch Haley, and Rossi, Hernandez; then it’s your turn. You place down a photo of your best friend. You hadn’t talked much about her, but you think of her daily. She passed a few years before you joined the BAU.

“I was lucky to have someone that hurt that much to lose.”

That’s all you say, but it’s enough for you, and it would be enough for her.

Spencer is last. He places down a picture of Tesla and a picture of Maeve. Your heart is heavy for everyone.

The night dwindles from there. Hotch and Rossi say their goodbyes, and Rossi gives you a knowing look as he leaves. You just smile. You stay for a few minutes after, but eventually, you move to leave as well.

You make it down Garcia’s porch before you feel a hand grab your arm. You turn, and it’s Spencer’s face you see.

“Would you- Do you think you could come over? Do you think we could talk?”

~

The feeling you have walking up to Spencer's apartment is similar to what you felt the last time. You’re incredibly anxious, but at least you know you’ll be let in this time.

The drive over was silent. Spencer had taken the metro to Penelope’s, so he rode with you. It wasn’t necessarily awkward. There was just an understanding that the car wasn’t the place to begin your conversation.

Now, as Spencer unlocked his door, it’s one of those rare moments you felt starved for words, and you know it’s because you’re scared you’ll say the wrong thing and face the same reaction that you did the last time you were in his home.

He leads you to his living room and motions for you to sit, and you do. The two of you are on opposite ends of his couch while you wait for him to say something.

His first words are airy and light, “Thank you for letting me talk to you.”

You look at him but remain silent, waiting for him to go on. All you can think about is why he wants to speak to you at all. The last time you spoke, he made it incredibly clear he did not want you in his life or around him at all.

Before you can think about it more and let your anger and sadness build, he speaks again, “I feel really stupid right now. I kind of feel stupid whenever I’m around you recently.”

He pauses momentarily before going on, “I’m so, so sorry, Y/n. About the last time we spoke. I’ve been thinking about it pretty constantly for the past few weeks.”

You open your mouth, unsure of what exactly to say, but you can’t get there before he’s off again.

“I’m not sure how to talk to you anymore. I don’t think I’ve known how to for a long time. I just, I need you to know how sorry I am for speaking to you like that.”

He takes a shakey breath but keeps going, “That wasn’t me, and that isn’t how I feel. I’m just unbelievably sorry, Y/n.”

He stops there, and you work to collect your thoughts.

“I know. A part of me knows, at least, that you didn’t mean it. I just wanted to be there for you, and hearing that made me- I just- I think it made me hate myself for wanting to be there.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m unbelievably sorry.”

“You didn’t talk to me for months, Spencer. I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why you let me in in the first place. I thought you hated me.”

He’s silent for a long minute.

“I never hated you, Y/n. I just stopped knowing how to act around you, and then I met Maeve. I fell so deep into it that I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I- And I just started to feel like you didn’t want me to speak to you, so I didn’t. But, when you came here, after everything, I guess I just felt like you were the only person who would get it. You never, no one on the team ever treated me or talked to me how you did. I just wanted that.”

Tears had begun to well in your eyes now. A part of you gets what he means, at least about letting you in, but the other part is so confused as to why he stopped being comfortable around you.

“I don’t understand, Spencer. Why did you stop knowing how to be around me?”

There’s desperation in your voice that makes you sound like a stranger to yourself. Maybe you’re a stranger to everyone right now.

“I uh, I don’t really know.”

“That's not fair, Spence.”

You’re crying now. Just a little bit, but you can feel the wetness on your cheeks. You can see that you are by the look on his face. He looks broken, and you know it's a reflection of your own image.

You wipe your face, “Thank you for apologizing, Spencer. I just, there are parts of this all that I don’t understand, and if you can't explain them to me, I don’t think I ever will.”

“Y/n-,” he calls out your name like a prayer.

“It’s okay, Spence. You don’t have to say anything more. We talked, and things will go back to how they were eventually.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

You smile sadly as you get up to leave.

“I am, too, for what it's worth. For whatever I did to make things change in the first place.”

You leave it at that, and it takes everything in you not to look back as you leave his apartment.

~

Things do get easier after that. Not completely. You still love him, and it hurts, but it helps to know he doesn’t hate you. He talks to you some, cordial things, and you do the same. You're sure your teammates still sense something is off, but this works for you. Right now, it works. Getting over him, not loving him anymore, is going to take work, but eventually, you know that you won’t hurt anymore.

Shortly after you and him talked, you started going back out with your friends. Spencer joined periodically, but that was normal. Bars were never really his scene.

Tonight, everyone gathers at your local pub. Your last case was particularly grueling, and you all need a way to blow off some steam. It's fun, and you feel good, even with Spencer sitting across from you. You feel proud of yourself for getting to this point.

JJ and Penelope feed you drinks to try and get you to dance, and you let them. Tonight feels as good of a night as any to ‘get back out there’ as Pen says. So, you do. You dance with them, and you ward off the other cops and agents around you who try to pull you away from your group. You aren’t interested in that. Right now, you're just having an appropriate amount of fun for a woman 15 feet from her boss.

Time goes by quickly, and by the time you get back to the table, you, Derek, Penelope, and JJ remain. He tells you that Hotch, Rossi, Reid, and Alex left a few minutes before. The conversation between you flows for a while, up until the drinks loosen Penelope up enough to bring up what you were pretty sure the team designated a no-no topic.

“Y/n, you have to talk about it.”

You’re still laughing as something Derek said when you reply, “What?”

“You know what. You and Boy-Genius. What on Earth happened? You went from ice-cold to semi-friendly. None of us saw it coming.”

“Babygirl-,” Derek tries to stop her, but you cut him off.

“No, it’s okay. I have to talk about it at some point, and I think right now is the only time I’ll be tipsy enough to let you get it out of me.”

You're still laughing slightly, but the pit that's lived in your stomach for the past few months starts to rear its head.

“After your Day of the Dead party, he asked to talk to me. I went to his place, and he apologized. I don’t really understand what he said or what he meant, but I can’t be sad about him forever.”

Pen perks up a bit at that, “I knew that party would bring good things!”

You giggle a bit at her outburst, but then JJ asks, “What did he say?”

The faces around you all tune in at that. You know they don’t see this as gossip. They care about you both too much to trivialize it like that.

“He just said that he stopped knowing how to act around me, and he didn’t know why, but then he met Maeve, and I guess it didn’t matter so much after that. He was my best friend, and then he was nothing.”

JJ shares a glance with Derek and then speaks, “Oh, Y/n.”

“What?”

After a beat, Derek says, “He didn’t just not know how to act around you.”

Now you're confused, “What do you mean? I talked to him, that's what he said. He didn’t know why. I mean, he knows everything and didn’t know why he didn’t want to be around me anymore. How fucking stupid is that.”

You laugh again, but it does come off as genuine in the slightest.

“Y/n, he probably doesn’t really know why. At least not fully. For someone as smart as he is, the kid can be really stupid.”

“Stop being cryptic.”

Derek sighs but goes on, “Pretty girl, pretty boy was in love with you. Probably still is. He just didn’t think you’d ever feel the same.”

“No. That's not true.”

You look at the others around you, but their faces are serious.

“He loved Maeve. He loves Maeve. That, that doesn’t make any sense.”

It's JJ’s turn to talk now.

“He definitely did love Maeve, no one is denying that, but we all saw how he was around you. His whole relationship with her was safe. He couldn’t be hurt by her rejection every day because he had no way of seeing her. With you, he could.”

Your mind is moving a mile a minute, “Did he tell you guys this?”

Penelope puts her hand over yours and says, “He didn’t have to, love. We all say the way he looked at you and acted around you. The way he talked about you. That boy was head over heels.”

“Guys, I appreciate whatever you’re trying to do, but this isn’t real. Spencer doesn’t- this is not real.”

“Y/n, pause. Think about the way he acted around you, the things he said. Think about how Reid is.”

You hear what Derek said, but it all sounds faint like someone stuffed your ears with cotton while you weren't paying attention. All you can focus on are the different scenes running through your head, the scenes of your life with Spencer in it. How he memorized your coffee order and brought it for you every day, how he never shied away from your touch despite his aversion to contact, how he consistently went out of his way to protect you on the field. At his house after everything, the way he clung to you and wanted to be held. How he said in his own words, “You can't be what I need”; not “you aren’t,” but “you can’t.”

Your whole world is crashing down in this bar, and you can’t do anything to stop it.

“Y/n?”

JJ’s voice snaps you out of your spiral.

“Just go talk to him.”

You nod mutely, and you get up.

~

Everything in the last ten months of your life has led you to the exact spot you were when everything blew up in the first place: Spencer’s door.

This time, you aren't too worried about him not letting you in. If anything, it's the opposite. Him opening this door could open a hundred others, and you don’t quite know if you are ready for any of them. You sit there and sit there and sit there, trying to work up the courage to knock, though you aren’t sure it's there to begin with. Right as you're about to walk away and decide you’ll come back another day, his door swings open.

“Y/n?”

His face is lit up with shock, and you notice his hand that is not on the door is holding his pistol.

“What are you doing here?”

You don’t answer, “Why did you open the door?”

He sets his piece down on the entry table before responding, “I heard footsteps in the hall and saw they stopped here. I was anxious. 50.3% of home invasions happen between 8:00 pm and 7:00 am.” He cuts himself off there, “Y/n, why are you here?”

You didn’t pay attention to anything he said. All you could think about was the way his lips were moving and the way his eyes locked onto yours as he talked.

“Do you love me?”

That is not what you wanted to say.

His lips fall open as he takes in a sharp breath, “What?”

“Or I guess did you love me? Before everything? Because Derek and JJ and Pen, they all said that you loved me, and now I can’t think about anything else, Spencer.”

He doesn’t speak, but you don't really give him a chance to.

“I just, I know I sound crazy right now, but I feel fucking crazy. I keep going over everything in my head, and I have been, for the past year I have been, but now it’s all different. It's all different because they said that you loved me, but you didn’t think I’d feel the same way.”

Here, you do pause, but he still doesn’t say anything, so you go on before you can stop yourself.

“Because if that's true, Spencer, it's just- I did. I do. And if it's not, then please just tell me so I can stop feeling this way.”

He sounds resigned when he says, “Y/n,” and you feel like you know what that means.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I'm doing this. You don’t have to say anything. Actually, please don’t say anything. I don't think I can hear it. Just pretend I never-”

He cuts off your ramble, “Y/n, stop.”

You draw your eyes from the floor, look up at him, and find something in his gaze you have never seen before. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you, and it takes everything you have not to look away. His hand raises to cup your jaw, and your skin lights on fire. Before you can process what he’s doing, you feel his lips press against yours, and something clicks. At first, his touch is light, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. But, when he grasps that you won’t, he presses himself to you harder, and all you can think about is how nothing has ever felt so right.

His lips move against yours, and you don’t know how you're managing to reciprocate because it feels like everything in your body has gone fuzzy. The kiss is by no means long, but it feels like it lasts forever, and by the time he pulls away, you’re breathless.

His forehead stays connected to yours, and he whispers, “I do, Y/n, love you. I have.”

You don’t feel the tears on your cheeks until he’s wiping them away.

“Oh, Y/n.”

“Did you know? That you did? Is that why…”

You trail off, hoping he’ll pick up on what you're asking, and he does.

“I didn’t at first, or I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you until it happened. I got scared, so I ran. I just never thought that you could feel the same or that I was hurting you. I didn’t realize that. I just thought I was doing what was best for us. I felt guilty for being in love with my best friend.”

“And Maeve?”

“I loved Maeve. I’ll always have love for her. I was trying to move on, and I thought I could eventually be with her and be around you without it hurting. I wish I would have told you this before.”

“You’re telling me now. That's enough.”

This time, it's you who pushes your lips to meet his. Your arms snake around his neck, and his fall to your waist. You follow when he pulls you into his apartment and closes the door. There is still pain on both sides, but you can feel it dissipating as you cling to each other. You’re just two broken people who have finally found a way to each other.

This kiss is different, hungrier. Neither of you pulls away for longer than a few seconds as you navigate your way from his entryway to his couch. Every touch is desperate like you're searching for something you never knew existed until now. His hands pull you closer and closer until he's pulling you on top of him, and each of your legs rests on opposite sides of his hips.

Your lips break from his for a moment, “What do you want, Spence?”

His reply is instant, “You.”

From there, things move faster. Your hands unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders while he undoes your pants. There are moments of awkwardness that come with exploring another for the first time, but it feels good. His hands trace over your hips and push further until you're left on top of him in only your underwear and bra. He takes you in like you are something to be marveled at, and you know your eyes reflect the same adoration.

You raise yourself off of him and work to get him in the same state of undress as you, and when you position yourself on top of him, you feel his length press against your center. The two thin layers of fabric do little to hinder the intensity as you rock into him. He lets out quiet moans at the action as his lips trace down your neck and over your collarbone.

His breath ghosts over you and makes you shiver when he asks, “Can I touch you?”

“Please.”

His hand moves between the two of you, and his fingers find your clit easily, rubbing circles over the fabric of your panties. You pant his name against his lips at the action. You feel like your whole body is lit up, and under any other circumstance, you'd feel embarrassed at how worked up you are, but you can’t seem to care.

After a few moments, he lifts you up and carries you to his bedroom. From there, he positions you below him on the bed, removing your remaining clothes in the same motion. The new setup lets you grip him, and he feels big in your hand. His fingers resume their previous assault before dipping down into you. You cry out at the feeling of him inside you, slowly pushing in and out, finding a spot that makes your legs start to shake. He’s relentless in his pursuit and all you can muster up the energy to say is his name.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

It's somewhere between a whimper and a whisper, but the sound of his voice causes you to clench around his fingers.

He picks up on this, of course he does, and quickens his pace as he coos at you.

“So pretty like this. I’m so lucky.”

You’re embarrassingly close already, so when he moves his thumb over your clit to rub circles as he fucks into you with his fingers, you come undone almost instantly with a warning and cry of his name. He works you through your orgasm, all while whispering praise in your ear. Once you come down from your high, you start to push his boxers down his legs, but he stops you before you can fully.

“We don’t have to do anything more, Y/n. I liked just making you feel good.”

“I want more. I want to feel you if you want that too.”

“Of course I do. I just don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I couldn’t regret this, Spencer. I love you. I want all of you.”

It's the first time you’ve actually said those three words to him, and it feels so fucking good to say.

“I love you, too. God, so much.”

With that, he positions himself back on top of you, running his fingers over your slit gently before gripping himself.

“Do you have a condom?”

“I might somewhere, but I have an IUD, and I’m clean. I can try to find one if you’re more comfortable with that?”

“IUDs have a failure rate of around .05% and are largely considered the most effective form of birth control, so uh, as long as you're okay with it, I am.”

You smile to yourself at his statistic but nod, “I want to feel you, Spencer.”

He returns your smile before rubbing his length over your entrance a few times and slowly pushing himself into you just slightly. He teases you, or maybe himself, for a moment before fully entering you. You push your hips up to meet his, and feeling him in his entirety makes your jaw fall open. He’s big, and you feel unbelievably full.

He waits a moment for you to adjust before he starts to develop a rhythm. His hands are everywhere, but his eyes are focused solely on your face like he doesn’t want to miss a moment of your reaction to him inside of you. To be fair, you are probably putting on a good show. Every movement he makes hits you in exactly the right spot, and you don’t think you could be louder if you tried. You can feel the leg he’s not holding up against his shoulder shake against the bed. Your first orgasm has made way for your second to be incredibly close.

“Spencer, please.”

You’re crying out, desperate for a little more to push you over the edge.

“What do you need, baby?” His voice is tight like he’s not far himself, and it sounds better than anything you’ve ever heard.

“Harder. Please, harder.”

He takes your direction immediately, rubbing circles on your clit with one hand while he thrusts into you with a bruising force. He’s fucking you like he wants you to remember the feeling long after he stops, and you know that you will. Everything about it is overwhelming: his smell, his pace, his eyes. You are covered in him, and he is covered in you.

After a moment, the hand he had on your stomach trails up to grasp lightly at your throat, and you fall into feeling. You can’t warn him that you're about to come before you do. The feeling is white hot. Bigger than your first, and the fact that you're coming on him sends you into overdrive. You can feel his hips falter for a moment, but you're lost in a daze, crying out his name.

He pumps into you a few more times before he follows suit. He pulls out, and you feel stripes of his come paint your cunt and lower stomach as he finishes with a moan of your name.

He falls next to you on the bed, and it takes you both a few moments to collect yourselves and catch your breath.

Once you do, the only thing you can think to say is, “I love you.”

It feels like those are the only words circling around in your head at the moment. Some mixture of his name and that declaration. While you know you each said it before, that your profession was the exigence of the sex you just had, it feels uniquely vulnerable to say now. It’s like the moment you just had together could have changed things or made him realize that he doesn’t actually love you after all.

That shoe doesn’t drop, though. Instead, you hear the three words echoed back to you by a man who, 6 hours ago, you thought would never, ever say them.

You turn to face him, and the love on his face feels like it could knock you out. He’s looking at you and smiling in a way you haven't seen in a long time.

“Will you let me clean you up?”

You know that part of the reason he’s asking has something to do with the likelihood of bacteria growth or something like that, but you think it's mainly that he wants to take care of you. Him wetting a rag and running it over you feels intimate in a different way, in an excruciatingly gentle way. Personal in a way that makes you feel like nothing between you could ever be wrong again, and maybe that's naive to think, but you feel hopeful regardless.

Once he finishes, he takes his space back next to you in the bed. This time, he pulls you into his arms, and it's different than it was all those months ago. This time, you know that he won’t push you away and that you won't hurt yourself by being next to him. This time, you just tuck yourself into him, and you let him whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you begin to drift off. This time, it feels like peace.

~

The following day, you wake up to Spencer still next to you, looking incredibly soft in the early morning light. You search for a moment to find your phone in the piles of clothes and are greeted with a text from Pen.

How did it go????

You smile before turning your phone off and climbing back into bed next to the man you love. It couldn’t have gone better.

-

all done! yay!!!

i hope you guys love it!! i’m not 100% happy with the ending but i’ve been writing this for so long and just needed to be done.

this is my first time writing angst on here and my longest fic, so PLEASE tell me what you think! all (nice) feedback is welcome and i love to hear from you guys!! :)

[sixblueyes]

T ★ STE ME, TOO !

starring geto, gojo, toji, sukuna ; wherein even after you've broken up, you fall back in his arms. . . and familiar sheets. but he's not like how he used to be with you. honestly, what did you expect when he's seen you with what he thought was his replacement? that he was going to let that go? yeah, right.

contents : fem! reader, modern au, implied toxic relationships, misunderstandings, implied sukuna manipulating reader before they broke up, unprotected, vag pēnetration, jjk men being a little mean and nasty but they really miss you, slight degradation with a hint of praise, f! orgasm, brēeding, cūmshot, crēampie, ōral (f! and m!), missiōnary, full-nelson, in front of a mirror, reader gets a bit insecure about her weight during sukuna's part. names used: honey, sweetheart, doll, sweetie, pretty/good girl, woman.

note : don't give second chances, but i'mma pass those suckers out like halloween candy if it's gojo 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ lotsa thanks to @suguriin for beta-reading <<3

── FUSHIGURO TOJI

"You have some nerve, doll," he mumbles, words muffled against the wet, glistening skin of your cunt while he swirls his tongue on your poor, tortured clit, lips wrapping around the sensitive nub and nipping at it every once in a while. "It hasn't even been a week and yer already with somebody new? That how you wanna play?"

Shaking your head, knowing he can see you, your mouth opens agape as a shuddering moan rips right through you, lost is your ability to speak and argue with your ex. Toji chuckles at your cute little reactions, his favorite part, if he was being honest, whenever he was between your legs. Nothing beats it. Your sweet scent and juices that quench his thirst come close, but it's always going to be how you respond to him for Toji. It's unlike any other high he's ever felt, and that's saying a lot coming from a man who's an adrenaline junkie.

Your hands leave the headboard and crumpled sheets for Toji's sable strands, tugging him closer to your cunt from his scalp. This only makes him smirk, and you feel the scar on his lip graze across your soaked folds, adding a delicious and welcome sensation to the already building pressure in your lower abdomen, familiar and making you delirious with pleasure. It was always like that with him, always driving you to the edge of your sanity with his talented tongue and deft fingers—the latter he hadn't even used and you were already squirming and whining.

Wrapping his glistening lips around your pulsing clit, he pulls at it a little until you arch your back off his mattress, only letting go when he's satisfied.

"T-Tojiiiii," you whine, rolling your hips in front of his face when you lose contact with his mouth. He only stops for a second and yet you miss him instantly, wanting nothing more than his tongue and lips and dirty words. "P-please, please lick me m-more, baby."

He huffs at your pathetic whining, but he was this close to taking pity on you. "Now I'm 'baby' again, huh? Tell me, d'you call him that, too?"

You shake your head even before he finishes his question, knowing he wouldn't let go of what he saw earlier: you having coffee with another man. He wouldn't even stop bothering you when you talk to another guy, let alone be on a coffee date with one. But he was mistaken, he couldn't have been more wrong with his assumption. "N-no, Toj. Never! H-He's j-just a friend!"

"O-oh, i-is h-he?" he mocks your whiny stuttering, frowning at the way you cry in frustration. He thinks you had no right to feel vexed, he was merely teasing you but you knew he'd let you orgasm anyway. But you had to go ahead and go on a stupid fucking date three days after you broke up with him. Fuck if he was going to let that go. "Don't give a flying fuck, doll. A friend doesn't look at you like he wants to tongue fuck your pussy."

A gasping breath whooshes out of you as he dives back in your pussy, tongue pushing past your willing, slick slit and letting it curl inside you, swirling and thrusting in and out. All while he was fucking you with his tongue, a hand of his snakes up toward your chest, slapping a tit before massaging it and playing with your nipple, while the other busies itself with drawing circles on your clit. He's nasty with the way he eats you out, always was, and you figured, always will be. But he was especially unforgiving whenever he's jealous or mad. And right now, he's both.

"Mmfph, yeah. Fuck, doll, tug on my hair," he moans against your slit, the vibrations from his mouth sending shivers down your spine and making your toes curl in blissful pleasure. "Harder, pretty girl, come on. Show me you missed me, prove to me that little fuck's really just a friend."

He replaces his tongue in you with two of his deft fingers. Tongue flat against your clit, he shakes his head side-to-side and moans to add sensation. Eyes rolling back, you obey and tug at his hair tight, grinding your hips on his face, and Toji fucking loves it. Curling his fingers, almost immediately, he grazes your g-spot, and he doesn't stop hitting it until your walls are clenching and throbbing. Your orgasm ram into you wave after wave, and you use your ex-boyfriend's tongue and fingers to ride it off until you calm down. Your hands finally let go of his dark hair, resting on his heated cheeks.

"Mm, fuck. Just what I wanted," he whispers against your puffy folds, planting a kiss on your clit that made you jolt before climbing on top of you.

Just like that, and he doesn't even realize it, his anger ebbed. There was still a bit of jealousy there, but who fucking cares? His girl was all spread-eagle on his bed, pussy out and clenching from the orgasm his tongue and fingers just gave her. What jealousy?

He guides your hands to his abs, closing your fingers on his hips. Once he's satisfied, he hooks one leg over his shoulder while he spread the other to the side, your pussy all bare and ready for him to take. "You're still my good girl, aren'tcha?"

You nod, moving your thumbs in a soft caress against his hard abdomen, your fingers squeeze nothing but rigid muscles. Feeling his body warmth and impressive build under the palm of your hands sends a twin frisson of excitement and apprehension through your system. You honestly don't know whether this is a good idea or not because you've broken up with Toji for a reason. He was... too much. Too protective, too clingy, too jealous. And while you did enjoy those qualities in the beginning of your relationship, frankly, you've had enough, especially after you've reassured him many times that he's the only man for you.

"Get out of your head, doll." His command snapped you out of your trance, blinking up at him with eyes filled with worry. "Focus on me. This is about us right now, don't think 'bout nothing else."

To get his point further across, he slides the head of his thick cock up and down your slit before pushing past your walls, hissing at your warmth and tightness. Fuck did he miss this. He missed you so bad he's willing to do whatever it took to get you back.

And hell will freeze over if he doesn't.

Leaning down, he grabs one of your hands on his hips, raising it up to his face then planting a soft kiss to your wrist before playfully biting your forefinger. Toji likes to make eye contact during intimacy, and he kept looking at you while he had your finger between his straight teeth.

"You with me, pretty girl?" he asks, straightening his back and putting your hand back on his slim waist. It was one of his handsome qualities, even if it was littered with scars. Especially that it's littered with scars.

You bite your lip as you nod your head yes. "I'm here, Toji. Fuck me, please."

"Whatever my pretty girl wants—" He pauses as he pushes deeper inside you, and he does something he's rarely done: break eye contact, watch your pussy take inch after inch after inch of his cock. Fuck, he missed this so much. "—my pretty fucking girl gets. Shit, doll, you get tighter every fucking time, I swear."

You whine, and that got his attention. He doesn't need to hear you beg or say another word, he was going to make his doll feel good. He isn't even fully in when he pulls his hips back, leaving just the tip in, then rams back in you—pelvis against yours, skin against skin. The sudden movement, the sudden feeling of being full to the brim, made your cunt pulsate around his cock, and you didn't think it was possible but you swore you got wetter.

Toji wasted no time and started thrusting, pounding you into the mattress like a madman about to lose everything. And he feels like he was, everything he's ever wanted was right in the palm of his hands. He'd let himself be hit by a bus first before he ever let you slip from his fingers again.

"Fucking missed this, sweetie," he whispers, clearly out of breath but that only makes him sound ten times hotter. "Won't let this cunt get away from me again, ya hear?"

"F-fuuuck, Toji! So fucking good, yeah, right—ngh, fuck—right there!"

He traps his bottom lip between his sharp incisors, trying to swallow back a guttural moan and miserably failing. "Oh shit, d-doll, are you coming a-already?"

"Yes, yes, Toji! Keep going—don't stop, please!"

Whatever his pretty girl wants, his pretty girl gets. But he wasn't going to give it right away, he needs to remind you of something first. Without stopping, he puts your raised leg down and pushes both thighs up to your heaving chest, folding you in half as he continued fucking you, the act like a walk in the park.

He looks at you with his dark, glossy eyes, darker in his dim room and the emotions swimming in his irises. Leaning closer, he plants a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips. "I'mma let you run back to that boy, just this once, just so you'd know who fucks you better. You'd soon realize you still love me and come back, won'tcha, pretty girl?"

You didn't know it was coming until your orgasm came, the coil slowly tightening just below your belly snapping at his dirty taunts, and this took Toji by surprise. You coming from his nasty promises was so fucking hot he doesn't realize he's picking up his pace, fucking into you until he pulls out and comes on your pussy lips, getting it wetter and stickier with his cum, an animalistic groan ripping from him.

Panting, he combs a shaky hand through his dark hair while the other smears his cum all over your cunt with his dick. "S-so pretty, doll. After you come back to me, tell me whose cum will that boy taste. Yours or mine. Heh."

── GETO SUGURU

Oh, it’s never a good sign when Suguru smiles in the middle of an argument.

Despite being broken up for more than two months, you still remember that fact about him. Quite fondly, in fact, because of how often you'd purposely push his buttons whenever you two get into a heated discussion. That's what he likes to call them: discussions, conversations that are mixed with heightened emotions.

But you're not having one of those right now.

"How quick you were to get over me." Each of his harsh words were punctuated with his sharp, deep thrusts, and if you weren't rendered speechless before, you definitely are now. "Our time meant nothing to you?"

You lay there on his bed, legs spread wide and pinned down to accommodate his huge and familiar body. It's only been two months since you last saw him—opting to block him on every social media platform and avoiding the places you used to go to—but you can't help but notice that he's grown slightly bigger. His biceps and abs were more defined and harder, and watching him plow into you, muscles rippling from his effort, is wounding the coil at the bottom of your spine tighter.

His accusation rings in your head, consciousness snapping back into you long enough for you to shake your head, wordlessly defending yourself. He thrusts in deep, snapping his hips forward before pausing, his warm skin coming into contact with yours, the hard ridge of his cock caressing your g-spot. His tight grip on the backs of your knees turns unforgiving, pushing your thighs up to your chest so he can lean down close to your face, his lips mere inches away from yours. The new position pushes him impossibly deeper inside you, he's brushing against spots and crevices you didn't even know existed and it had your pussy throbbing around him.

He grunts at the sudden tightness, but he quickly schools his expression, raising a brow at you. "No?" His tone was condescending, mocking. "Haven't moved on from me yet?"

You shake your head again, only for Suguru's hand to fly straight to your jaw, his hold firm. "I want you to say it. Say you haven't moved on, say you miss me as much as I miss you.”

"M-missed y-you, Sugu—"

He cuts you off with a sharp thrust of his hips, your sentence ending on a pathetic shriek. Suguru feels your warm breath ghost his lips, and he's never wanted anything more than to kiss you. His eyes roam the shape of your face, and you look as beautiful as the day you broke up with him. You keep maintaining eye contact even as your eyes water, even as your lips tremble and your cheeks grow hotter—and Suguru knows at that moment he's never getting over you.

He leans closer, lips briefly brushing against yours before pulling back. "Too bad I don't believe you."

Your cunt clenches down on him as he fucks you senseless. You should hate it, you should slap him across the face into next week for telling you that he doesn't believe you even after telling him the truth. He might not trust anything you say, but what you said was absolutely the honest truth: you did miss him.

"You don't miss me, you never missed me. Not one bit." He slithers one hand from the back of your knees to your clit, pinching it before drawing tight circles. That makes your back arch, pushing your heaving breasts against his chest. "You know how I—hah, fuck—how miserable I was w-when you left me? I didn't—hah—I didn't know what to do, honey."

His endearment for you, the name he used daily, brings back so many memories and feelings that it makes your heart ache. It hurts, and you wish you could tell him how you've been lost, too. How you miss him beyond what you could comprehend, but all you can manage are moans and whimpers. Your pussy was stretched around his thick cock, his big calloused hands were scratching your heated skin, and it all felt so right.

You sound and look pathetic, but Suguru couldn't help but find you irresistible. So much so that he leans down, plants a desperate kiss on your lips before burying his face in the crook of your neck, all without breaking his steady rhythm, pounding your cunt in the way he knows you love. "I hate how I can't move on, I hate how much I miss you. I... I hate that you left me. You fucking left me."

His deft hand on your clit continues its ministrations, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. Suguru could tell how near you are, your pussy clenching around him as if you don't want to let him go. And he hangs on to that, no matter how powerless and delusional that made him sound.

"And I fucking hate how you're with someone new now." You shake your head, a strangled moan slipping past your lips as you try to tell him the truth: that the guy was just a friend. "You'll come back to me. I'll make fucking sure of it, you'll come back to me soon enough."

You don't know if it was his extra attention to your pussy or his dark promise, but you went over the edge with a soundless cry. Suguru was caught off guard, pulling away from your neck, but was quick to recover. His thrusts stop abruptly, but his fingers continue their movements, picking up its pace to help you ride out your orgasm.

He couldn't help himself. Not even his foolish pride, nothing in the world could stop him from kissing you right at that moment, and he did.

Your lips feel so perfectly against his it makes him feel stupid for ever allowing you to leave him. The second you part your mouth open, he groans and slips his tongue in, melting at your warmth. Wrapping your arms around his neck, he reciprocates the action by caging you in his arms, a hand cradling the back of your head as he kisses you like he's going to lose you tomorrow.

Pulling away, knowing you might be running out of breath, he watches you as you calm your breathing. You were looking up at him with eyes sparkling from your orgasm, taking his breath away.

"I'm going to make you come again, and again and again. We're not stopping until I'm satisfied," he growls, voice deep from his chest. his eyes roam your features once more before diving back in, kissing you like he's done before. "And when you go back to your new boy, he'll wonder why you taste different."

── GOJO SATORU

“Nasty girl, what about your new man, huh?" he teases as you lower your head to suck his dick, while he's between your legs. Typical of Satoru to put you in a 69 position but the man does love getting his fix, both in receiving and giving. It's the best position, he argued, but he changes his mind every time, anyway. "What would he say when he finds out you're sitting on your ex's face while you eagerly suck on his cock—Oooh, fuck, you are nasty, shit!"

You tease the tip of your tongue on his slit that's leaking pre-cum, welcoming the oddly sweet and salty familiar taste of him on your tongue. It's so easy to shut Satoru up, just sit on his face and he'd zip his lips, but he's a bit of a talker today, especially since he's found out you're 'in a new relationship'. Which is untrue, he just assumed you were already in one barely days after you two split. He told you he was being annoying about it—you moving on so easily—because it's just unheard of for anyone to start dating as quickly as you, when really, it's just because his pride is wounded. And all for nothing really since the guy he saw you with was nothing more than a friend, who was more than happy to help you make him jealous.

Hollowing your cheeks, you carefully take him in your mouth inch by inch, twirling your tongue around his veiny shaft as you do so, making slurping sounds as you go deeper and pull back. You know Satoru loves it when you put on a show, even if he can't see. And he loves it even more when you start twerking on his face, which was exactly what you did.

"Oh fuck, yeees, baaaby, that's fucking it, come on. Move that pussy on my face, fuuuck," he mumbles, hands grazing back and forth from your ass to the backs of your thighs, then back again.

His tongue laps up all your juices, parched and desperate for anything you can give him, especially after a few days of drought. Another day and he would've bought a fleshlight in your skin color and ate it out, pretending it was you because of how much he was missing you. He thanked the heavens and whoever was listening they answered his prayers because, shit, he thought he was going to lose his mind.

He was messier than he usually was, all lips and teeth nipping at your sensitive clit, tongue sliding up and down your sopping slit and sometimes poking in your clenching hole, just begging for any kind of penetration. And, of course, Satoru was nothing but your pussy pleaser.

"My girl, what would your boy toy say when he finds out you got fingerfucked by your ex?" He sucks on his thumb before swiping the pad across your clit, giving you a few seconds of clit stimulation then pushing his thumb past your glistening folds and deep into your cunt. He hisses at the tightness, at the way you welcome his finger without any sort of resistance. Fuck, you were so wet. "Hmm? Think he'd wanna know?"

"D-Don't know," you mutter, mouth half-full of his lengthy cock. Swirling your tongue once around his reddened, angry tip, you giggle when he pushes his hips forward, wanting more of that tongue action. "Would you?"

"Oh fuck," he laughs, then with his free hand, he lands a harsh smack against your ass cheek, massaging the spot with his wide, hot palm and long fingers. "I'm the boy toy in this scenario?"

"At least you get to fuck me. He doesn't really do it for me." You feel a little guilty for lying about your friend, who was very helpful with your mission to get back at Satoru, but, in your defense, he did want to help. You were just going to leave it at that.

Satoru flattens his tongue against your puffy clit and shakes his head sideways, creating an eye-rolling sensation with his thumb inside you and his tongue vibrating the bundle of nerves. It was all too much, especially when Satoru replaces his one thumb with both his middle and ring finger, at an angle so the tips can reach your g-spot. You were feeling way too much, your skin was growing hotter, and your head was muddled. You can't really pinpoint where you were feeling the pleasure—just knew that Satoru was the one providing it, and if he ever stopped, you just might die.

"Fuck, 'Toru, baby, don't stop. Please, don't stop, pleasepleaseplease—Oh shiiiiit!"

You come grinding on his tongue and fucking back on his two fingers, your whole body trembling at the pressure of your orgasm. And Satoru begins to feed off of your pleasure. It was starting to drive him nuts, thrusting his dick up in the air like he was pounding your pussy above him, the tip leaking pre-cum like your juices are flowing out your cunt.

With one last shudder, your hot breath ghosting over Satoru's poor cock, he comes with zero stimulation. Grunting and moaning, calls of your names ending on a whorish moan, he thrusts and thrusts until his balls emptied. Thick ropes after thick ropes of cum spurt from the red head of his cock and onto his thighs and abs, but some got on your lips. You smile as the last effects of your mind-shattering orgasm ebb, and as a reward for giving you a show, you place a kiss on the sensitive part under his shaft, licking it with one long stripe before moving to get up from Satoru's face.

But he holds you back down, pressing your cunt further into his face as he laps up the remaining slick and juices between your pussy lips, dribbling down his chin and onto his Adam's apple. When he loosens his hold around your flesh, you give him no time to react and move to get away, falling on the expensive mattress of his sizable bed. He sat up in time of your fall, his soaked lips in an obvious pout despite his eyes glimmering with lust and playfulness.

"You're not leaving, are—" He stops himself short, eyes going down to your lips and smirking as he realizes that was his cum on your mouth. Not bothering to wipe it off.

He scoots to your side closer, wrapping his arms around your waist, effectively caging you in between his long, muscular arms. God, everything about this man was just vertically blessed, huh?

"Make sure you wipe my cum off your lips before you leave, pretty girl. Don't want him to taste me, too, right?"

── RYOMEN SUKUNA

You're a moaning, writhing mess against his broad chest, head hanging low as your hands hold his wrists tight and your legs spread, feet dangling on the sides. You feel weightless, boneless against the harsh hold of your ex-boyfriend. . .or boyfriend. You honestly can’t remember what you agreed on during your earlier fight, even more so now that you're cock-crazy.

“Ha, you always were the first to tap out.” He smirks, proud, and eyes narrowed as he looks at you in the mirror. “I’m talking to you, woman. Look at me.”

Whining, you struggle to pull your head up. Not obeying his commands would result in punishment, you know this based on experience having been in a relationship with him. Until you broke up less than a week ago because of his controlling nature. He claims it’s what’s best for you, that he was only looking out for you because you’re his woman, and that it’s his job as your boyfriend. Or. . . was, considering you did end your relationship with him. But now, you don’t know where you stand with Sukuna.

You were tempted not to listen to his demand, but since you know where that would get you, you push yourself to follow, your eyes at a half-mast locking with his intense, lust-blown ones. He looks terrifyingly beautiful with his harsh, darkened eyes and his fangs bared, but what got your legs trembling was the view of your cunt, pussy lips stretched to fit in his girthy cock, half of his shaft out and curved with the way it’s stuffed in you.

He’s got you in a full-nelson position, his absolute favorite among many that he likes. Standing in front of a full-length mirror so you could see how he’s making you dumb, but also for his perusal, since he loves nothing more than watching your eyes roll to the back of your head as he drives you mad with pleasure. This time, however, he can barely pay any attention to his own desires, more focused on you, specifically on ways to punish you for moving on as quickly as you did. He’s heard of people moving on to other people, dating again within a short amount of time after they’ve broken up with their previous partners, but he’d never thought you’d be one of them. He thought he meant something to you, but he was proven wrong when he saw you getting cozy at a party with someone. And not just any random guy, no, it’s a friend of yours he knew had a thing for you at the very beginning.

Fucking bastard will get what’s coming to him. But after he’s done with you. After he’s bred you to his heart’s desire. After he’s made you his again.

He adjusts your height, spreading your legs further apart, and he grunts at the sudden tightness you were hugging his cock. You think the noise he made was because you were heavy, and you squirm in discomfort, trying to get him to put you back down.

“Stop moving, woman,” he bites out through gritted teeth, your hips gyrating causing his cock to grind against your clenching walls, the friction all over his dick getting him so close to coming pathetically early.

“P-Put me down, ‘K-Kuna,” you whine. You are no longer holding his thick wrists, hands now pushing at his forearms to pry your thighs away. But who are you kidding? You aren’t a match to him strength-wise, and doing all of that would just get you into even more trouble.

He clicks his tongue in annoyance, holding the backs of thighs tighter, harsh grips now bruising your skin. “What the fuck did I just say? ‘M not putting you down ‘til I stuff you full of my cum, ‘s that so hard to understand?”

“I-I’m not going anywhere, you c-can still fuck me—”

“Breed you.”

You sigh in defeat. “Fine. You can still breed me, but just. . .not like this.”

His face contorts into an expression of confusion. Sukuna is more of an avid fan of the full-nelson position, but as far as he recalls, you love it, too. You squirm and turn bashful whenever he manhandles you into this position, but your cunt can never lie to him. You would gush more than you usually do when you’re trapped like this, and this was even the exact position you two were in when you first squirted on his dick.

“You love this position, don’t you pull that shy act bullshit on me now.”

“B-But I’m. . .heavy.”

He was in stunned silence for a long moment, until he burst out laughing, walking forward to the mirror wall and pinning you there. He buries his face on the point where your neck and shoulder meet and laughs his heart out, panting when he's done. Keeping the bottom half of his face hidden behind your shoulder, he looks up to you with amused, shining eyes, pupils dilated. He doesn’t like the fact that you can’t look at him directly, but he would let this go. Just this once. He knows you’re feeling embarrassed, and he is trying to win you back, not push you farther away.

“You’re not heavy,” he finally speaks, catching your attention. Your brows furrow in disbelief. “You really aren’t. Where’s this coming from, anyway?”

“You made a noise when you adjusted me,” you say, voice low and eyes darting from one point to another. “Y-You can put me down—”

“I made a noise because this pussy’s squeezing me tight I thought I was gonna come.” He says so matter-of-factly you didn’t know how to react. If your time with Sukuna taught you anything, it would be to never underestimate him, especially when it’s obvious that he’s telling the truth. “Enough with this shit, alright? You know I could pick you up with my pinky, so don’t play with me, ‘m trying to fuck this cunt full.”

That’s exactly what he did.

Sukuna's thickset muscles are bunching and flexing as he moves you up and down against his chest, his rhythm and pace consistent, his breathing even like he's not fucking you silly. The hard ridge of his shaft keeps grazing along your g-spot thanks to your folded position, your ass hitting his abs every time you slide down on his feverish skin.

"See? Fuckin' told ya," he mutters smoothly, but deep inside he wanted nothing more than to bite down on your exposed neck and moan like a wild beast that caught prey. "You weigh nothing. Next time I fuck you like this, I better not hear any 'I'm heavy' bullshit or any kind for that matter. You just let me fuck you good."

"Ngh, fuck," you mumble, lips agape as he pulls moans after moans out of you. "W-What do y-you mean next t-time?"

That makes Sukuna pause, the air around you dangerously still, before he pushes up against the mirrored wall again, making you face him in the reflection.

"You reaaally wanna be a brat today, huh?" He spreads his feet apart to steady himself, improving his stance and balance before retracting his hips then thrusting into you, the bulbous head of his cock roughly ramming into your sensitive spot it makes your eyes roll.

Sukuna continues with the same rough, long thrusts until you shriek, your pitch so high it makes Sukuna's ears ring but he only smiles wickedly, satisfied and opting to just roll his hips.

"But since you asked, lemme answer it." He begins giving you deep, short strokes, the angle in which his cock was pumping in and out of you was pure, utter bliss. "By next time, I mean the second we get back together, baby, because let's get one thing clear—" He emphasizes the last word with a sharp thrust, pushing you further into the mirror. "—you're still mine. Even if we're broken up, baby, you're. Still. Mine."

Right after that last word, he begins pounding your poor cunt right up against the wall, your hot breaths fogging the mirror and his powerful thrusts shaking it hard you think it might shatter. Sukuna was cursing and grunting right next to your ear, you can't help but let your head back into his shoulder, allowing him more access to your throat which he gladly takes, sinking his teeth into your soft flesh. The second his sharp incisors punctures your skin, you come with a sharp cry, curling your toes and scoring Sukuna's forearms with your manicured nails.

The sting from your nails and the fact that you just come when he bit you drives Sukuna to his orgasm, not bothering to pull out to make good on his promise of breeding you full, to his heart's content. Not that the bastard had one but when he sees your blissfully fucked-out expression in the mirror, mouth agape and sweat dripping on the sides of your head, he thinks it's possible he has one after all.

"Ask your friend how much he likes the taste of pussy bred by her man for me, yeah? Maybe then the idiot would get the hint."

made my own toes curl with this one, ngl

likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3

[zoropookie]

SWEET MELODY

☆ chapter twenty — get the fuck out (🎂)

The wind was carrying a chill on his skin like it lived on his being, a cold damp fog.

The sun was sinking beneath the homes, and the evening seemed to hold his break with him. He, Ei, and Yae were standing there in front of the familiar door they've all frequented. One leading the way, calm and resolute, the other begrudgingly trailing behind her while his mind gloomed. The third? Amused, eyes glimmering with merriment at the mother-son relationship.

"I reckon you tell them that you'll leave them alone," Yae suggested. "All of it is quite petty, I'm sure they'll understand why we're here to have you two make amends anyway."

"I have no doubt that's what you think, especially since you both love to be resolute bitches about it—"

"Oh? No, continue, I'd love for you to finish that thought." Ei replied, standing tall and unmoving, face of quiet authority. After a brief interlude of his quietude, she ground her teeth. "Do not cross me, you are already in hot water."

Ei's gaze burned into him in front of that door, she knocked, the sound echoing with enough command. Kuni's throat tightened in disgust, mind racing for an immediate escape, any way out of this predicament, but Ei was always one to play her cards well. He was trapped here whether he liked it or not.

The door opened slowly upon looking through the peep hole, revealing you, who looked at all three of them with weariness. "Hello..." You said awkwardly, but there wasn't much of a smile on your face than usual. Kuni's heart skipped a beat, and there was a heavier feeling to the air that he couldn't shake from you. It was easy talking shit to them on the phone, but when he knew something was wrong here, it was strange.

"We won't take up much of your time, I apologize if we burdened you right now!" Yae chirped. "I'm so glad to see you yet again. You get cuter and cuter each time I see you, (Y/N). Like a little button."

You didn't know how to respond to that, frankly, except with a half-hearted smile. Your eyes moved back to the other two, your heart dropping at the situation. Ei's grip on Kuni's hair was sudden and firm, her thin fingers weaving through his mauve filaments with a controlled ease. She forced his head down, tugging him into a bow.

"No more. No more fighting, no more altercations. Apologize, Kunikuzushi," She said, her tone ironclad. "For all of it."

He bit the inside of his cheek, losing the hope he had for this going how he wanted it. He refused to let his own pride be threatened as it roared in seething rebellion. Up his neck creeped humiliation, but his mother's grip tightened. She refused to let go. His head still bowed, he forced the words out, all of the syllables dripping from his lips were involuntary.

"You've been through a lot because of me. I shouldn't have done what I have, and maybe I should have also realized that when I was doing it. I'm still learning how to regulate, it doesn't come to me naturally." Kuni said, hollow, half-hearted. He couldn't help it. Every tendril of his being wanted to rip away from how pathetic this display looked.

He felt their gazes on him, like a lion in a circus, studying his every move and reaction, waiting for him to crack under his own ego. "Oh, you think that's enough?" Yae said, tilting her head. "You're still acting as if this is a game, but there's no place for them anymore. How unfortunate."

"...We will move on from this. Please consider forgiving me in the future, when your heart allows it." Kuni hissed through clenched teeth, fist trembling at his sides. Fury boiled under his skin, but he kept his eyes locked on the ground like he was commanded, avoiding eye contact, wincing at his mother's nails digging into him. "Let me go. You're fucking hurting me."

"Words. All words, but I haven't heard an actual apology yet." Ei replied calmly.

You didn't know how to react still, all of this rushed in your face like it was a surge of energy. You seemed calm and measured, but looking at how your ex-boyfriend was being handled by his mother yet again, watching him struggle with the prospect of even apologizing to you, knowing that you hardly deserved one yourself...it was hard. Too much to deal with right now.

Your heart tightened, eyebrows furrowing as you avoided eye contact with Kuni as well. "...This seems like a waste of time. Get home safely." You said, the emotional storm raging moments before in your mind was rid of promptly, more stoic and irritable with your speech. You turned around, shutting the door quickly behind you, cutting through that moment with air taut like a wire.

To what you thought was normal, infuriated him. Kuni's teeth grinded together, his eyes darkening in annoyance. The way you said that so casually, like you just washed your hands for ten seconds of the entire ordeal and left it. Like you were already miles away from him, digging under his skin tauntingly. You got the last word in, watching him be humiliated under the guise that you deserved that forgiveness.

He couldn't stand it. Being dragged here, forced to grovel, after he had swallowed his own dignity while it tasted raw and bitter in his throat. Spitting out an apology to you...one you hardly had any business responding to. You dismissed him, as if none of what he did matter. As if he didn't matter. It was gnawing at his core, left sweltering in his mess.

His movements were stiff and jerky as he followed the two women to the car, silently fuming. You were not going to take control of what he thought he was warranted.

It was surreal to think that the remains of your brother were in your hands rather than his own arms encompassing you. In those warm, now unfamiliar feeling hugs he gave you.

The day had been spent finalizing the plans for Kazuha's funeral. The weight of your heartache overwhelmed you a lot, especially when Kuni and his family stopped by. The bakery had closed for the day, and your employees, more like family than staff, had insisted on joining you as moral support. You didn't feel comfortable with their continuous acts of kindness towards you, but you accepted anyway. Who were you to deny any more help, anyway?

It was a private funeral, bringing you strange comfort barely anyone except other family members and distant friends knew about it. Their faces softening the edges of your overall sorrow.

You sat in front of the altar with tired eyes, rubbing them to rid of your tears and to ebb the exhaustion. Your hands shook as they rested on the smooth, cold surface of the urn that held his ashes. It wasn't real to you, the only one after your mother's death who was always able to help you live in quiet grace, had been reduced to this. You lived yet again in your sorrow, except extra this time.

With no energy left to think about anything else, the details crafted with care in Kazuha's funeral spoke wonders. The cherry blossoms arranged, incense burning softly, candles delicately flaring. There was nothing left to distract you from the possibility that he was gone.

The filling air of sandalwood neighboring the air while the incense curled smoke into the room. White lilies around a large photograph of Kazuha that you had to retrieve from your mothers room. No longer dusty, but the sanctity of the promise that you kept to Kazuha disappearing as well. You didn't even want to look at it, feeling the sense of betrayal rotten your heart with guilt. He was in the peak of his youth, eyes bright with the amicable, ethereal tranquility of his beaming face. A smile so gentle and sincere, haunting you forever. You never saw the photo before this, and now that you have, it'll follow you like a ghost.

Your flood gates cracked and spurted out, until your tears began to pour out uncontrollably again. Sobs raw and aching as your entire body wracked, echoing through the mildly quiet room. Your body was heavy to you, every bone in your body converting to stone, with a misery so sagacious that you weren't sure if you were stuck there for the next few minutes or hours.

Weeping like a baby, allowing your tears to drip onto your clothes, the memories you could never share with him again, for the future planned that would never come to pass. He died in the past, the reassurance he left you with when you were just breaking up with your ex-boyfriend and you were shattered once again. But not like this, not like how you wept for the moments you had taken for granted with your family. For the times you assumed you would have more time.

Xingqiu, Chongyun, Bennett, Beidou, and Gaming stayed there beside you, presence warm but quiet as they ruminated in the sorrow themself. One by one, they knelt beside you and bowed their heads in respect to the memory of Kazuha, a quiet prayer escaping their lips every now and then that you could hear.

"It's okay," Beidou softly whispered, rubbing your back. "It's okay to take your time. There's nothing wrong with taking a break, kid. Feel out your emotions."

"To you." You choked out, tone exerting a little snappy.

As Beidou's eyebrows raised, your gaze sharpened as you stared at the photo again. This time, a glint of hopelessness and null in your expression.

"I genuinely hope that none of you ever have to feel what it's like to come home, and be crushed by your own dejection. To feel like there's a giant anchor pressing down on your chest, every single second. Pummeling you from the inside out, stripping you down until you're weaker and weaker." Your voice trembled, leaving the rest of them quiet again. "I don't have the luxury to feel out my emotions, or I crumble again. I'm so tired of crumbling."

The following days, the bakery remained open after the funeral. You didn't give yourself time to exactly take a long break. It should have been expected of you, or forced, but the rest of the employees figured it would a better idea to let you do what you need to do to cope with it.

The bakery was dimly lit, with the television in the corner of the room playing Balladeer and the Cult's new music video for the fourth time today. The entire staff were quiet other than the frequent chatter, and the soft clinking of dishes as the workers cleaned up for the night. It was the kind of silence that would tell tales of wonders involving your situation. You were in the back, wrapping everything up and making sure you wrote what needed to be stocked for the morning.

"I like when they do that fun lyrical thing that starts with 'I had my pants on my head like a hat', and ends with...'the police department's refusal to comply in a timely manner with open records request is a middle finger to the marginalized'. You know what I'm saying?" Gaming rambled.

"No clue." Xingqiu said dully.

"They have to make the feds give up early on the song, so they turn it off before they get to the part that calls it out." Chongyun grinned.

"It's like when you steal sandwich bags from the burger shop across the street, and you think the sandwich bags have shit in it, right? No. The entire layout to a compartment of different type of bombs located in Natlan."

"Why are you stealing sandwich bags from them? I'm telling." Xingqiu's eyes narrowed. "Snitching to the court."

"You do that, and I'm not letting you use my Dreamcast anymore. I'm tired of you ratting me out." Gaming scrunched his face up before walking to the back to clean the kitchen with Beidou.

The atmosphere was considerably lax, but there was always a shade of apprehension all of them shared with your newfound attitude. You forced yourself to focus on closing, the others trying to keep a bright side about them. You could only target yourself to think about Kazuha, the pain of absence. Knowing that when you go home, he'll be there, but not as a physical body.

The sound of the front slamming open jarred everybody who heard it, the small bell above the door rattling aggressively against its frame. Chongyun stiffened at the abrupt sound, it being cut short as they all turned toward the person who walked in. The boy's jaw dropped, blinking twice to make sure if who he's seeing wasn't the guy who was just on TV.

"Uh—" He wanted to keep his wits about him and start spilling fan-made excitement, but he was too floored to even do that. "We're...about to close, sir!"

"Not here for bread, or whatever the fuck you guys have. Fetch (Y/N)."

Xingqiu's eyebrows furrowed. "They're...not here right now. If you want to talk to them, come back tomorrow, we'll be open for a while."

"Oh, are they not? Crazy, considering I see their car behind the lot. I checked, don't think I'm one of your little customers." Kuni cut him off, voice dripping with venom as he sized the workers up. "I'm not in the mood. Either go get them now, or I'll run through all of you."

Chongyun hesitated, awkwardly turning his body towards Xingqiu who shrugged in response. He headed towards the back to relay the information, while you were still working. When he reached you, his voice went quiet while he told you what was going on, almost apologetic. Your blood ran cold.

There was an anger that swelled in your chest, hands squeezing into fists. Without a word, you stormed out quickly, expression set with burning fury. The sight of him again, this time in casual clothing and a neutral demeanor, your vision blurred with rage and small guilt. "Why are you here?!" Your voice shook with rage, your voice could barely raise at him. "Haven't you done enough?"

"Have I done enough? Understand this, you bitch," He immediately started coming closer to you. "You're not off the hook for what you did. You may be used to people forgiving you instantly after batting your eyelashes and giggling like fucking Minnie Mouse, but I'm not the one.

"Okay? Then, what do you want from me?!" You grit your teeth. "You say all this, and then have a hard time not being vague. What is it?! Tell me!"

"Coddled your entire life, skipping out on your responsibilities because things got a little hard," He took a step closer, which lead for you to open the distance again. Except this time, his hand swiped the entire row of glasses that were on display down on the wooden floor with a loud crash. Your eyes widened. "Now you get to stay here, complacent in my misery, just because you think you deserve it? I'll take all this shit away from you."

His anger marinated long enough, it bubbled to the surface like a volcano ready to erupt. His chest was tight looking at you, suffocating in his grip of emotions he buried deep for too long. Enough was enough, he felt sick with the flour and sugar clinging to every surrounding. Everything was quiet to him here, too perfect. And for him, wrong.

A sneer warped his lips, and there were more crashes. The noise cut through the bakery, the workers flinching, but you couldn't even move. Beidou immediately ran to the front, her face twisted into rage. "Get the fuck out, now! You have no business being in here."

She was about to rush over to kick him out, but you shook your head, subduing her form from going closer. "You're not mad because of me, get your facts straight before you start talking to me like that."

His chest heaved at that, and he could only laugh. The sound of his ragged breaths became aggressive, grabbing at dishes and sending them all careening across the floor with a brutal snap of his wrist. "All of this shit," Another one, the sound harsh against the floor. "ALL OF IT, I want all the good things to fucking rot for the part you played in ruining the good things we had."

Your heart pounded in your ears in moderate fear, louder than the crashes and the gasps coming from the rest of your workers. You felt yourself become suffocated, like there was thick smoke restricting you. Everything felt too tight, your skin and the walls of the bakery itself. He kept shattering your things, breaking every single item that came across his path. There were crimson cuts on his hand, the bleeding on his hands and the glass embedded on his skin making you flinch. He welcomed it.

"Deluding yourself with all of this! You're fucking delusional!" He screamed in your face, "Why can't you wake up and take fucking charge of your own destiny, rather than following a dream you made up because you don't want to be reminded that HE'S FUCKING DEAD. WHERE ARE YOU?"

You could only laugh at him, feeling your cheeks burn from how flustered you were. "Get out." Your voice was dangerously low, trembling as you barely controlled your fury. Those words poisoned you, and tears immediately started rolling down your face, lip quivering.

Kuni just stood there, taking in your words as his breath labored, chest heaving up and down, eyes scanning you in disbelief. But you couldn't stand to see him anymore, because you knew what he was saying about you was true. You grabbed your own glass from the counter and hurled it at him, "Get out," smash, "GET out," smash, "GET THE FUCK OUT."

You grabbed another, and another, before entirely ridding of the glass pieces and started throwing chairs at him for him to swiftly dodge. Your hands were shaking uncontrollably, feeling humiliated that you were losing your mind in front of your employees, but you could not do this anymore. "You didn't want to see me anymore, right?! You've got it. Get out! I don't EVER want to see you again."

"So he is dead?" He taunted, voice lower as he started laughing too, his throat hardly making out the sound while it only came out choked as well, too stunned to care. "How's that fantasy working out for you now? At least persistence is a great substitute for actual talent."

Your knuckled connected with his jaw as soon as he leaned in closer, and you fucked him up hard. Sound coming off as a dull thud, followed by a grunt coming from Kuni's throat. You got him in between his lips and the center of his nostrils, causing the crimson blood to sputter immediately once he stepped back. He held onto his nose, instinctively going for his face while his liquid red stained exterior dripped.

The bruise was already beginning to form where your punch had landed. He hadn't expected you to fight back, but something flickered in his eyes. Something that wasn't rage this time, but delightfulness? You stood there, panting, your own hand now pained from how hard the clash was. "Leave," Your voice cracked. "Leave...before I do something worse."

It was obviously a serious reaction, he realized it by the time you were screaming at him. So as the adrenaline dissipated, the power of everything hit him all at once, and he narrowed in on your tear-filled gaze with incredulous relief.

"Welcome back." His pride fought him again to say anything else, so he wiped the blood on his lip, and turned on his heel to leave.

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THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.

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[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Sep 26th

~*~

1. Hi good evening, I'm looking for a wangxian fanfic, where yu ziyuan was Jin guangshan's concubine, if not You already found it, on an old list, and I would love to read it again @glass-madness

FOUND? OOC! by -niehuaisang

~*~

2. Hi there! I've been trying to find this fic to re-read for a while now and I'm hoping that someone else recognizes it (and that it's not deleted!)

I believe it was in the "LWJ marries the Yiling Patriarch" category and there was a Yiling Wei sect or something similar (although it's been a very long time and I don't recall anyone else actually being in the sect so I could be wrong on either/both counts). WWX often went back and forth between the Burial Mounds and Baoshan Sanren's mountain via portal (?) as they were trying to cure Lan Yi of her spiritual malady (?). Last I still remember it was a WIP, and one of the little details that sticks in my mind was that BSSR had gotten WWX doing decorative knotwork to keep his hands busy, so the palace had incredibly intricate pieces, like, everywhere, and he often gifted it to people.

Hopefully that sounds familiar to someone; thank you for all you do! @tevokkia

2 check #17 on this old post, it also mentions knotwork and BSSR and might be what you're looking for

FOUND? 💖🔒love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, wangxian, immortal WWX, slow burn, pining, arranged marriages)

FOUND? inevitable everything by isabilightwood (E, 193k, WangXian, WQ/MM, JYL/JZX, BSSR/LY, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, but WWX is BSSR's disciple/adoptive grandson too, the cultivation sects think this is a, War Prize AU, it's actually self-arranged marriage, Arranged Marriage, yin iron shenanigans, LWJ Has Friends, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, LWJ Has a YLLZ Kink, Switch WangXian, BDSM, Submissive LWJ, Dominant WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, magical illness of a side character (who will get better), Rope Bondage, Impact Play, Rimming, Bottom LWJ, Temperature Play, Face-Fucking, Breathplay, (talisman-based breathplay to be specific), Cock Warming, Public Scene, no one gets naked in public this is the sense of WWX invents the, Remote Controlled Vibrator, Semi-Public Sex, Outdoor Sex, Blindfolds, one qingmian smut scene with oral and fingering, Minor Character Death, All Sex Scenes Are Skippable!)

~*~

3. Hello! I’m looking for a short fic w 1-3 chapters where there’s canon divergence bc wwx was really pretty due to his dad. I remember in it, when jfm brings him back to the lotus pier, yzy actually denies any rumors of a possible affair bc he looks so much like wcz

I also remeber in it wwx uses his beauty to stop wrh from going into a qi deviation and stops the sun shot campaign as a result

FOUND? The Most Beautiful Man Alive (and his gremlin son) by meyari (T, 4k, WangXian, attempted child molestation (discussed), sexual assault (awareness of the possibility, it doesn't happen ever, beauty as a tool, Smart WWX, Protective JYL, Protective JC, Good Parent JFM, Protective YZY, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies)

~*~

4. Hi, can you please help me find this fic. It’s a modern au where lan zhan and Wei Ying are soulmates. Wei Ying finds out because he saw a painting of Han Guang Jun and thinks his soulmate is dead. He starts to work in the museum operated by xiao xingchen or song lan where they collect stuff that belongs to Han Guang Jun and Yiling Laozu. At the end turns out lan zhan also went to the museum and they kept missing each other because they went at different timings. Thankssss @marshmallowbeats

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5. Hi! I'm looking for a wangxian omegaverse ao3 fic. It's in a futuristic cyber/tech setting where people have machine implants in their bodies. From what I remember the synopsis goes like this: Wei Ying was travelling from one planet to another with a baby a-yuan, his implants fail and Lan Zhan finds them. LZ takes them in and mistakes a-yuan as his biological son with WY. Some other details like the yin tiger seal being an AI and WY having dirt on the Jins. Thank you very much!!!!! @mithesimmer

FOUND? I'll buy you the moon (I'll buy you two) by Thesaurus_with_no_words (E, 27k, WangXian, Science Fiction, Space, Rebels, Space Opera, On the Run, Promoted To Parent, Robots, Androids, Mechs, Battle Mechs, Hurt/Comfort, Technopathy, Willful and Deliberate Baby and Wife Acquisition, Porn With Plot, Mpreg)

~*~

6. hello! idk if this site is still active, but im looking for a mdzs time travel fic where wwx returned during cloud recesses study era. there was a scene where he slits his throat because he thinks its better if he just dies (everyone worries about him including madam yu)

FOUND? 💖 (Un)Hidden truth by Sarah_R (M, 291k, wangxian, major character death, time travel, characters watching their show, suicide attempt, panic attacks, self-harm, nightmares, hurt/comfort, angst, WIP)

~*~

7. looking for a fic modern au established relationship one shot wangxian where lwj gets appendicitis (i think it was that, it was some kind of pain he had to have a procedure for) and he like wakes wwx up next to him so that he can go to the hospital and wwx feels worried/guilty/stressed bc he didn’t notice and lwj didn’t say anything can’t remember the name ! @willesnelson

FOUND? The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad (Valentine’s) Day by GhostySword, Two4Joy (T, 7k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Modern, Established Relationship, Sickfic, Valentine's Day, Hospitalization, Meet the Family, LWJ's Rabbit Children)

FOUND? like bunnies by idleorbitals (T, 4k, WangXian, Modern, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst)

~*~

8. Hello! I had to switch phones and lost all my fanfic open tabs, and I'm trying to remember the names of all of them. One I cannot recall for the life of me was a WIP with only one chapter where during the Burial Mounds Siege Wei Wuxian was basically sort of rescued by Lan Wangji but then put to trial by the cultivation sects and he agreed to be imprisioned as long as they guaranteed A-Yuan's safety. I remember it being a sort of Madam Lan situation, or something. Can you help me?

~*~

9. A) Hi! This is for fic finder. I dont remember much and i dont remember if it was modern with cultivation. Focus on junior quartet. Wen remnant live. They are on summer camp that the jin organized. A-yuan comes to the camp with JWY (im not sure about this). A-yuan then befriended jl, oyzz, ljy. I think they are in the same room (dorm room but its a cottage? I dont know what its called). In group activity, a-yuan sneak up to meet up with wn and the other three sneak up to follow a-yuan. Long story short, a-yuan, ljy, and oyzz is invited to lanling because they are jl friend (either because that or they rescued him). The one that invite them is either jgs or jgy (i think it was jgs). They tried to track wwx but always failed. When jgy comes to the summer camp, they tried to disguise a-yuan as lan diciple but failed. And then jgy found out that a-yuan is wwx son and forced them to go to lanling. In lanling, a-yuan wants to leave and jl, oyzz, and ljy helped. Su She is the one that tracked them down when they tried to run away. Thats all i can remember. Thanks

B) Hi! This is for fic finder. Its a modern with cultivation fic i think. Wen remnant lives and in hiding. Focused on junior quartet. A-yuan comes to summer camp that the jin organized with JWY. A yuan the befriended jl, ljy, and oyzz. They are in the same room (dorm room but a cottage? I dont know what it is called). Jl, ljy, and oyzz is kinda suspicious of a-yuan because he is the only one that are not affliated with a sect. The three of them followed a-yuan in secret when a-yuan sneak up to meet up with wn. Long story short, jgs invited ljy, oyzz, and a-yuan to lanling because they are jl friends. When jgy comes to the camp, they tried to disguise a-yuan as lan diciple and failed. Jgy forced them to go to lanling (honestly i think he kinda kidnapped them). I think he found out that a-yuan is wwx son and used him to lure out wwx. In lanling, jl, ljy, and oyzz helped a-yuan to leave. Su She is the one that responsible of them. Thats all i can remember. Thanks! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

~*~

10. Hi, lovely people. I'm looking for a fic where LWJ takes WWX out the Burial Mounds, along w/all the Wens (against their will, but keeping 'em safe) & brings 'em to Gusu. He turns WWX into an omega w/a "recipe" of Wen Qing (who does it just for their own safety), until WY gets pregnant of Sizhu & Jingyi (not sure abt the names), but he often doubts abt having being an omega b4 & he's always being forced to have sex. LZ treats him rough & poorly, even in front of their sons. WWX ends up getting tired & runs away w/the kids, leaves 'em in the woods & jumps off a cliff. (Prob. Dark LWJ) TYSM! @einherjermineord

FOUND?🔒forfeit by eightroses (E, 12k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dark, Dark LWJ, Rape/Non-con Elements, Dubious Consent, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Alpha to Omega transformation, Alpha LWJ, Alpha WWX, Omega WWX, Sexual Coercion, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Forced Feminization, Mpreg, Forced Pregnancy, Fainting, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Vomiting, Rough Sex, Knotting, Medical Inaccuracies, Body Horror, Abuse, Domestic Violence, Trauma, No happy ending here)

~*~

11. I’m looking for a wangxian fic where wangji tells wei ying what he did in the cold pond (the handfasting) while their in the cloud recesses and it diverges from there @wrappedaroundxielian

~*~

12. For FicFinder – trying to find a fic I thought I had marked for later. I think it was modern with magic au? I think LWJ takes over an old theatre called the burial mounds which used to be WWX's? In this AU I think LWJ thinks WWX is dead or he didn't know WWX until he bought the theatre. honestly not sure this will be found but I appreciate any clues all the same. tysm for all you do running this blog. @itsallwearecalledtodo

~*~

13. Hi, I’m looking for an ABO fic where WWX is an O and LWJ is an A and they’re soulmates. But WWX has been hiding his identity and pretending to be a B, because he got abused in his old pack and had run away (?) I think. @plzloveme

FOUND?🔒backfire by spookykingdomstarlight (E, 115k, wangxian, LWJ/MXY, One-Sided MXY/WWX, MXY/NMJ, Modern, BDSM AU, Biologically Determined Dom/sub Roles, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Sadism, Masochism, Past Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Self-Harm, BDSM as a Form of Self-Harm, Minor Character Death(s), Arson, Shades of Black Widow WWX, Extremely Dubious Consent, Rape/Non-con Elements, Normalized Homosexuality and Bisexuality, Normalized Polyamory, nonsexual bdsm, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Pining WWX, jealous WWX, Touch-Starved WWX, Professional Dominant WWX, Sex Worker WWX, gentle dom LWJ, Mean Dom LWJ, oblivious LWJ, Past WC/WWX, Minor JGY/WWX, Mentioned WWX/Others, Emotional Infidelity, Angst with a Happy Ending, endgame wangxian, MXY Also Gets a Happy Ending, the tags are scary but i promise there's some lightheartedness too, wangxian love one another so much, WWX is healed by the power of nonsexual bdsm and friendship, and then gets bdsm'd quite sexually and happily by the love of his life, Additional Warnings In Author's Note)

~*~

14. hello! i’m looking for a fic where jc post-siege finds wwx’s diaries in the burial mounds and he gets transported???? into the memories of each book

FOUND! Waiting On You by SmellsLikeDeanSpirit (M, 26k, JC & WWX, WangXian, WIP, Graphic Depicitions of Violence, Major Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, Memories, Time Travel, Sort Of, the characters watching the show trope but different, WWX has magical diaries that force the reader to experience his memories, JC finds them and reads them, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Bashing, Bad Parent YZY, YZY Bashing, Canonical Character Death, he comes back tho, JC regrets, JC Needs a Hug, WWX Needs a Hug)

~*~

15. Hi, this is for fic finder! I’m looking for a fic where wei ying and lan zhan are betrothed (I can’t remember if they were betrothed since childhood or during the cloud recesses arc. But basically the jiangs agree to the betrothal because they expect wei ying to be miserable in cloud recesses with all the gusu lan rules. However when they see how wei ying is actually loved and respected, they get super mad. I think madam yu gets mad because her own children are not in loving marriages?

There’s a possibility it might’ve been a/b/o but I’m not sure if i’m getting fics mixed up here 😭

But please help me find this fic! I’m always so grateful for the work you guys do

FOUND?🔒 Alliance AU series by Ilona22 (E, 21k, WangXian, JYL/OC, Arranged Marriage, A/B/O Dynamics, PWP, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Intersex Omegas, Not JC Friendly, Matchmaking, canon Jiang family dynamics, Family time, Night Hunts, Mention of male omega pregnancy, Intrigue at Jinlintai, Mentions of Prostitution, War, Conflict between characters)

FOUND? in case you ever foolishly forget by RavenclawLoki (E, 19k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Engagement, fast burn, Fluff, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, Bad Person YZY, YZY Bashing, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, LWJ & WWX are decent at communicating hense the fast burn, Good Uncle LQR, Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Established Relationship, BAMF JYL, she has given up on defending bad parents and we simply must support her, it's yanli's world we are just living in it, Demisexuality, Asexuality, Sex Positive Asexuality, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Soft WangXian, Implied Switching, LWJ shows love by slow blinking, Loss of Virginity, First Time, gonna add Out of Character tag to be safe regarding YL)

~*~

16. Hello ^^ I am looking for a fic where LWJ and JC traveled back in time and LWJ was the first one that found Wwx on the streets. Thx! @yoonieby

FOUND? A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 84k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, graphic depictions of violence, underage, LWJ pov, JC pov, dark LWJ, manipulation, grooming, teen body adult mind for LWJ, happy ending for wangxian, problematic consensual underage sex, blood & violence, insane LWJ, manic LWJ)

~*~

17. hi can you help me find a fic where lan zhan participates in a wei ying engagement tournament. Lwj wore a mask so as not to be recognized @silvanagomes87

FOUND? travelers through the empty gate by stiltonbasket (M, 107k, WangXian, royalty au, mistaken identity, emperor WWX, poor LWJ, forced marriage, (by LWJ himself), confused WWX, parenthood, misunderstandings, empress LWJ, fluff & humor, married life, angst w/ happy ending, WIP)

~*~

18. Hey hi, I’m looking for a missing wangxian fic. It takes place during the sunshot campaign, lwj and wwx are cursed(?) so that they feel eachother’s emotions, lwj pines and wwx is acting aloof and angry, lwj goes to jiang cheng and asks to marry wwx and lwj hits the table when jc insults wwx. Lwj and wwx share a dream and wwx is convinced that it’s all in his head before lwj walks into his tent repeating what he said in the dream. Eventually, lwj and wwx are married before the last battle and lwj is grievously injured. There’s a happy ending tho. Please lmk if you find this, I’ve spent days looking @remembertosaygoodbye

FOUND? The dreamers. by orange_crushed (E, 17k, WangXian, Dreams, Dreamsharing, Spells & Enchantments, Canon Divergence, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, War, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Temporary Character Death, The Character Dies But Does Not Stay Dead Trust Me, Resurrection, Suicidal Thoughts, Loss of Identity, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Injury Recovery, Trauma, Memory Loss, Memory Magic, War Is Hell Etcetera, I Promise The Characters Do Not Stay Dead and Will Absolutely Be Okay, Masturbation, Fantasy, Very Brief Mention of Burial-Mounds-Era Cannibalism, Major Character Death... but only for a minute honestly!!, Awkward First Times, Marriage Proposal)

~*~

19. Hi! This is for fic finder. I dont remember much, but i think it was mentioned that nmj is suspicious of the jin after the first burial mound siege. After he sees that the wen is just an old person. When jin rusong dies, nmj secretally goes to He sect and hide the non combatan in the sect. Thats all i can remember. Thanks @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

~*~

20. hello! I'm looking for this wangxian fic I think it is based on the song Driver's License by Olivia Rodrigo, it does not have a happy ending since wwx and lwj do not end up together in the end

thank you!

hello! thanks for answering my question in the fic finder post! question #20 I reviewed the summary, but unfortunately that is not the fic 😭 I remember that in the end wwx marries someone else (but not lwj) thanks for responding! 💗😊 and sorry for not explaining my question well

NOT FOUND! driver’s license by cryptenhope (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern AU, Post-Break Up, Making Up, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending if you read the ending notes, Ambiguous/Open Ending)

FOUND? 🔒 drivers license by AG1234VL (T, 11k, WWX/Other, WangXian, LWJ/LQY, Modern AU, Hurt No Comfort, slight comfor?Non-Chronological, Song fic, Crying WWX, ice cream and beer, breakup weight gain, Lots of Crying, Angst, Homophobia, from lqr, wangxian breakup)

~*~

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Jaehyun ⋆⭒˚.⋆

idol!Jaehyun x f!famous!reader

summary: you and Jaehyun are paired up for an interview. You should know what texting your boyfriend is like, right?

(cw: f!reader, famous!reader)

"Hi," Jaehyun greets the camera, "this is the perfect opportunity to catch up on some music." He settles into the plush pink chair while he fits the headphones over his ears.

His music begins to play while you enter the set and greet the camera which prevents him from hearing who his mystery partner might be. You pop your earbuds in and explain your screen name, "I chose Cupid because I like to set my friends up and help them in their relationships."

The camera cuts to Jaehyun who stares blankly at the camera, "I choose Valentine, because I was born on Valentine's day."

You settle into the chair and make yourself comfortable while your partner for the video begins messaging you. Whoever it is is very proper, uses all the right punctuation and is straightforward. Your eyes widen at the camera, speaking through the music playing through your earbuds, "is this an old man? Am I texting someone's grandpa?"

The staff bursts out laughing and you decide to text your exact question. Jaehyun's eyes widen and he can feel his ears heat in embarrassment beneath the head phones. He texts back with a slight pout on his face, "No, I'm not a grandpa."

You text back and forth for a while, talking about your hobbies, your MBTI, and just trying to make small talk. When you make a joke he doesn't respond with any laughs or emojis, when you try to make more conversation, he responds with short answers. You lean back in your chair, with a huff, "this person is not very fun. It has to be an old man. He doesn’t get any of my jokes!”

The staff prompts you both to send a picture of your home screens. You had recently updated it knowing that you were doing the interview and you and Jaehyun liked to keep your relationship private. Yes, it was known and public, but that didn't mean you were both open to sharing every little aspect, or really any details. Maybe one day you would both be open to sharing everything, but that day was not today.

You quickly take a screenshot of your screen which happens to be a couple folders of your apps and a widget of some picture you had found on Pinterest against the background of some flowers outside your favorite cafe.

Jaehyun perks up a little bit, "I think this looks familiar. I recognize the chairs and words on the wall, even though I can't really see it. Maybe it's one of the members?"

You study the picture sent to you with your brows furrowed as you zoom in and study the apps and the picture, "this looks so familiar to me. It looks like a restaurant in Jeju I was at a few weeks ago, I could be wrong. Let me ask."

The staff struggles to muffle their laughs at yours and Jaehyun's joint confusion. Of course, the pictures looked familiar to each of you, you were together, and had been to these places together.

You continue to text back and forth for a while, finally getting somewhere when he starts to show a little more personality and send some memes in response to your texts. He seemed to be a pretty funny guy, ultimately making you decide it was not an old man you were texting, just someone more proper and maybe old-er.

When it comes time to have you both send your recent food orders, Jaehyun pouts and furrows his brows as he studies the recent orders you'd sent him. There were 3 recent orders, 2 were for 2 people, and the last one was for a larger group. The orders looked familiar, one order for pizza and the other for ramen. It was food he had recently eaten and as hard as he tried to remember he couldn't remember who he had eaten the food with. His schedule had been so packed lately, everything was jumbled up in his head. "It has to be one of my members," he decides out loud.

You study the screenshot sent by "Valentine" while biting your lip, one of the orders was what you had eaten yesterday. A small voice in the back of your head was telling you it was your boyfriend, but he told you he was doing talk shows and variety shows today. This wasn't considered either right? Does he really text like this and you’ve never noticed? Surely, you know what your own boyfriend texts like, right?

You both continue chatting and whoever it is makes you laugh pretty hard at some points when your partner says something stupid or sends a dumb meme. You laugh especially loud, choking on your spit when he sends you a drawing of what he thinks you look like.

You have tears in your eyes and warm cheeks as you stare at a poor drawing of what looks like a boy, freckles, huge eyes, big smile. Your eyes dart from the screen of your phone to the lens of the camera, “wh- he thinks I’m a boy? This doesn’t even look like a person who actually exists!”

Jaehyun on his own side bursts out laughing after zooming in and looking at every detail of the picture, “there are wrinkles on this drawings face. And it’s bald. He thinks I’m an old man, so weird.”

As the time winds to an end you look at the staff behind the camera, somewhat shocked and saddened by the end. "Time flew by!" you scrunch up your face as you think, "I don't think I have a really good read on who it is. I think it's a man that's older than me and probably someone in the music industry since he related to so much. Maybe he's a dancer or producer of some kind."

On the other side Jaehyun is set on who he thinks it is, "it's one of my members, I know it. I think it's Jungwoo or Haechan."

You both stand and turn to face your partners. Upon catching sight of Jaehyun, you immediately scream and run behind the set laughing while screaming, "you told me you had variety shows today! Go home!"

Jaehyun bursts out laughing, hunched over as his cheeks flush, "you didn't tell me either! Get back here!"

Your voice comes out loudly paired with your surprised and embarrassed laughter, "No! I'm so humilated!"

The staff manages to get you both together for the ending conversation. The cameras start filming and you smack Jaehyun's forearm lightly, "you are a horrible texter."

"What did I even say?" He laughs in shock.

"I never realized how boring you are through words, you text like an old man."

Jaehyun answers the staff as they ask how you both possible couldn't pick up on each other through the texts. Jaehyun looks at the camera while he answers, his hand holding yours beneath the tall table, "I think texting is so boring and annoying. We call each other or video call. If we open our messages we use voice notes, we very rarely actually text each other.

You squeeze his hand under the table, eyeing him with a mischievous look, “who did you think I was? You thought I was a boy, who did you have in mind?”

Jaehyun rubs his free hand over his face, already regretting his guess, “before I tell you, you have to understand my thinking. Jeno and Chenle did one of these interviews together so I just figured it could be another member. I thought you were Jungwoo or Haechan.”

You guffaw, a shocked laugh leaving you as you pull your phone out and pull up the drawing he had sent you, “this is what Jungwoo or Haechan look like to you?”

“I’m not an artist! Well, not that kind of artist, but I think it’s pretty good. I even added teeth in the smile.”

“Babe, that’s creepy.”

“Who knew you were such an art critic all of a sudden?” He playfully asks with a bobble of his head.

The staff subtly tell you both to wrap it up, reminding you to take a selfie before ending the video. You catch the cues and smile at Jaehyun, “we’ve been together for a while now but I feel like I learned a lot about you today. You text like an old man, you can’t draw, and you have a horrible memory.”

“Hey! You didn’t know who I was either! The food orders didn’t give anything away?”

“We’re talking about this later,” you decide to reply as you lift your phone to take a selfie.

“Wait, lift it to this angle,” Jaehyun instructs as he gently moves your arm.

“Wow, so bossy,” you mumble jokingly as you snap the picture.

The screen goes black with the selfie of you and Jaehyun with matching bright smiles on your faces as yours and Jaehyun’s laugh transition into the ending of the video.

[luviwon]

FLOWERS OVER EXES — k.sn

❀ in which kim sunoo makes up for your ex boyfriend's miserable behaviour and gets you flowers to bring up your mood. but he doesn't stop there and brings you to heaven too. ❀ a combination of angst, fluff and vanilla smut is this a thing? (who could not fall for romantic sunoo i am actually on the floor now someone rescue me) ❀ in the mood for something sad but sweet and passionate as well so there you go ❀ for whoever doesn't want to read the smut part, i will put a small warning before the start of that so read worriless. as for my horny readers, you can just jump down there to avoid all the tear-causing scenes.

"leave, then. i don't need you anymore"

his words were just as a sharp arrow, splitting your heart into two. you did not dare to confront him anymore, not after everything that has happened. looking at him in the eyes one more time, you felt a burning tear painting your face. it was not worth crying for this pathetic man, but you couldn't help yourself. everything you have shared together was still there somehow, and despite his wrong doings, you still kept thinking about the good times.

you had to control yourself, though, and acknowledge what a piece of trash he was. and that there was no better decision than to stand up and leave as he said. you did not need him anymore either.

"i'll send someone to get my things by the end of this week"

he just nodded, turning his back to you and going on his phone. is this the lowest respect he has left for you? you opened your mouth sligthly, ready to criticise him and tell him one final thing before leaving forever, but you stopped yourself. you were more than that and should not lower yourself to his level.

without further goodbyes, you left your ex boyfriend house and walked down the steps, holding your tears back still.

you kept your head down as you walked through the streets, trying to ignore the tightening in your chest. the cool evening air nipped at your skin, but it wasn’t enough to numb the ache growing inside you. each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of everything pressing down like an anchor.

you didn’t want to cry. not here. not now.

the sidewalk was quiet, just the occasional hum of a car passing by, but even in the stillness, your thoughts screamed louder. you had done the right thing. you had to believe that. but it didn’t feel like it. each memory flashed in your mind like cruel reminders—the laughter, the stolen glances, the small moments that felt too perfect to be real. and maybe they never were.

your eyes burned, but you blinked the tears away. you couldn’t fall apart now, not in the middle of the street where anyone could see.

as the familiar path towards the han river stretched out in front of you, your phone buzzed in your pocket. you hesitated for a moment, thumb hovering over the screen, before pressing call. you needed to hear a voice, something to ground you, to remind you that you weren’t completely alone.

"hello?" sunoo’s voice was soft, and for a second, you could almost pretend nothing was wrong. almost.

“hey…” your voice came out shakier than you wanted, and you bit your lip, trying to steady it.

"you okay?" he asked, instantly picking up on the tremor. his concern wrapped around you like a blanket, but it only made it harder to keep your composure.

you swallowed hard, fingers curling tightly around your phone. "i’m fine. just needed to… hear someone."

there was a pause, the kind that made you wonder if he was trying to find the right words or if he already knew. “what did he do again?”

his question hit like a punch to the gut, and before you could stop it, a sob broke through your chest, loud and raw, spilling out into the night air. you clamped your hand over your mouth, as if that would stop the rest from coming, but it was too late.

sunoo’s voice immediately softened, "hey, hey… it's okay. i’m here. talk to me."

you tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. your legs felt weak, and you had to stop, leaning against a lamppost to steady yourself. everything felt too much—too loud, too painful, too real.

"where are you?" sunoo asked gently. you could hear the worry creeping into his voice, but he wasn’t pushing you. he never did.

you wiped at your cheeks, hating the way your breath kept catching in your throat. "the bridge," you whispered. "i’m going to the han river bridge."

“okay, stay there. i’m coming to you, alright?” he was already moving, you could hear it in his voice, the rush of footsteps in the background. "just hold on."

you nodded even though he couldn’t see. "i’m sorry," you managed to say, voice breaking again. you didn’t even know what you were apologizing for—maybe for calling him, for crying like this, for not being stronger.

"don’t be sorry," sunoo said softly. "you don’t have to do this alone. i’m almost there."

you lowered the phone and took a deep breath, staring out at the darkening sky. the han river was just ahead, the faint shimmer of water in the distance. you’d been here so many times before, but tonight it felt different—like everything had changed. like you had changed.

you stood by the railing of the bridge, eyes unfocused as you stared out at the water. the river moved slowly beneath the soft glow of the streetlights, but your mind was far from the calm that surrounded you. it kept pulling you back—back to him, to his words, to the way everything seemed to fall apart in such a quiet, brutal way.

people walked past, some alone, some in pairs, their footsteps light against the pavement. you could feel their glances, brief but piercing, as if they could see through you, as if they knew. you shifted your weight, trying to make yourself smaller, to hide the mess you felt like, but it only made the knot in your chest tighter. your face was still warm and damp from crying, and you wiped at it quickly, telling yourself to get it together.

“come on,” you muttered under your breath, taking in a shaky breath. “be strong. you have to be strong.”

but the words felt hollow, like they were just something to say because you didn’t know how else to pull yourself out of this. everything hurt, and even though you told yourself over and over again that you were fine, that you were better off without him, it didn’t stop the ache from settling deeper.

you closed your eyes, leaning forward on the railing, letting the cool wind brush against your skin. maybe, just for a moment, you could let yourself fall apart. no one would notice, right? no one would—

and then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw it—something familiar. you turned your head slowly, gaze catching on a figure walking towards you. the first thing you noticed was the coat—black and slightly oversized, the one you’d seen so many times before. the way it hung loosely on his frame, sleeves too long for his delicate hands. then the hair, that familiar mess of dark strands that somehow always looked perfect in its disarray.

sunoo.

he wasn’t rushing, but his steps had a purpose, his eyes already locked on you. and for a second, everything around you seemed to blur. there was something comforting in his presence, something that made your heart ache a little less, even though you hadn’t said a word yet. but then, as he got closer, you noticed something else—something unfamiliar.

in his hand, he was holding a small bouquet of flowers, wrapped carefully in soft blue paper. delicate, pale blue peonies peeked out from the wrapping, their soft petals almost glowing in the dim light of the streetlamps. you blinked, caught off guard by the sight. despite the familiar comfort of seeing him, there was something so unexpected, so tender, in the way he held them.

sunoo reached you, his breath a little uneven from the walk, but his expression was calm, his eyes soft as he looked at you. he said nothing at first, just standing there with you, offering his presence like an anchor. but it was the flowers that kept drawing your gaze.

“you okay?” he asked, voice low and gentle, like he didn’t want to break whatever fragile moment this was.

you opened your mouth to speak, but the words tangled in your throat. instead, you shook your head, unable to stop the tears from welling up again.

sunoo didn’t waste a second. as soon as he saw the tears welling up in your eyes again, he gently placed the bouquet down on the ground and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you in a way that felt so natural, like he’d been waiting for this moment to be there for you. his embrace was firm but soft, and before you could think, your face was pressed against his chest, his warmth enveloping you. his hand found its way to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as he pulled you even closer. he rested his chin on top of your head, the steady rise and fall of his breathing a quiet reminder that you weren’t alone.

“it’s okay,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath against your hair. “you don’t have to say anything. i’m here. i’ve got you.”

his hand stroked your hair in gentle motions, like he was trying to smooth out the chaos inside you with each pass of his fingers. you didn’t resist, letting yourself melt into him, the tension you’d been carrying for so long slowly unraveling in his arms. you could feel his heart beating steadily against your cheek, and somehow, that rhythm made everything seem a little less terrifying. his scent wrapped around you—clean and familiar, with the faintest trace of something warm, like vanilla. it filled your senses, grounding you, reminding you that not everything was lost.

“you’re not alone anymore,” sunoo murmured, his voice low but strong. “whatever happens, whatever this is… you don’t have to carry it by yourself. i’ll be here, no matter what. i promise.”

you didn’t say anything, just pressed your face deeper into his chest, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his coat like it was the only thing keeping you standing. his words soaked into you, each one like a small stitch, trying to pull together the pieces of you that had been so brutally torn apart.

“i don’t know what happened,” he continued, his hand still moving slowly through your hair. “and i don’t need to know right now. all that matters is that you’re safe, and i’ll protect you from here on out. whatever it takes.”

his chin shifted slightly against your head, and you could feel the way his breath stirred your hair as he spoke. there was something so steady, so unshakable about the way he held you, like he was a wall between you and the rest of the world. you didn’t have to be strong right now, not with him. it was like all the weight you’d been carrying was finally allowed to fall.

“sunoo…” your voice cracked as you finally spoke, muffled against his chest. the words felt heavy, like they’d been trapped inside you for too long. “it’s over now. it just… ended.”

saying it out loud made it real, and the reality hit like a wave, crashing down with a force you weren’t ready for. your body shook as the sobs finally came, no longer silent, no longer restrained. you cried into his chest, letting everything out—everything you had been holding in, all the pain, all the confusion, all the love you didn’t know how to let go of.

sunoo tightened his hold on you, one hand pressing gently to your back, keeping you close, as if he could shield you from the hurt with his touch alone. “i know… i know,” he whispered softly, his voice trembling just a little, but he never wavered. “let it out. you don’t have to be strong right now. i’m here.”

he didn’t let go. not once. and in that moment, you let yourself believe him. you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to go through this alone. in his arms, with the sound of his heartbeat in your ears and his warmth surrounding you, the world didn’t feel as cold.

sunoo held you for a while longer, his chin still resting on your head as he let you cry in his arms. but as the minutes passed, the air around you began to grow colder, the last traces of sunlight disappearing beyond the horizon. he felt the slight shiver that ran through you and pulled back gently, just enough to look at you, concern flickering in his eyes.

"it’s getting dark," he said softly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb. "and cold. let’s get you home and warm up, okay? i’ll take care of everything. i promise, you won’t be alone tonight."

there was something so reassuring in the way he said it, so sure and steady, that you found yourself nodding without hesitation. the thought of being alone, of walking back to an empty apartment with nothing but the echo of tonight’s heartbreak, made you feel even more fragile. but with sunoo, even just for now, you didn’t have to face that emptiness.

he smiled at your nod, that small, gentle smile of his that always seemed to bring a little light, even in moments like this. "come on, let’s go."

as he bent down to pick up the bouquet from the ground, you watched him for a moment, noticing how careful he was with the flowers, as if they were something precious. then, without a word, he slipped his arm around your shoulders, his touch warm and solid, guiding you gently as you leaned into him. you were still shaky, still sobbing quietly, but his presence made it just a little easier to take each step.

you rested your head on his shoulder as you walked, the weight of your grief still heavy, but his steady pace gave you something to hold on to. he led you to his car, the soft click of the remote unlocking the doors breaking the quiet of the night. when you reached the passenger side, he paused, opening the door for you with a care that felt so... intentional, like every movement was meant to make you feel safe.

"here," he said softly, helping you into the seat. he carefully set the bouquet in the back, the blue flowers almost glowing in the dim light from the streetlamps, before closing your door with a soft thud.

you watched him circle around the car, your eyes tracing his familiar figure as he moved, his hair slightly tousled from the breeze, the faint shadows of exhaustion under his eyes. when he slid into the driver’s seat, he turned to you with that same gentle smile, though there was a flicker of worry behind it.

"let’s go," he said quietly, and the engine purred to life as he started the car, the low hum filling the space between you.

you leaned your head against the window, feeling the cool glass press against your skin, your gaze drifting up towards the night sky. the stars were faint, scattered against the dark canvas of the city, but they were there, blinking quietly in the distance. you focused on them, using their distant light to hold yourself together, to keep the tears at bay. you didn’t want to cry anymore, not here, not in front of him.

the car moved smoothly through the streets, the soft glow of passing streetlights flickering over your face. you could feel sunoo’s eyes on you, stealing glances when he thought you weren’t noticing. but you felt it—his worry, his care, the way he was watching over you even in the smallest moments. every so often, he would adjust his grip on the steering wheel, his hand moving effortlessly between the controls, and you found yourself oddly comforted by the sight. there was something undeniably calming about the way he drove, like he was in control of everything, even when the world felt like it was falling apart around you.

after a while, you felt the softest touch—a gentle pressure on your hand. you looked down and saw sunoo’s hand resting on yours, which had been resting limply on your thigh. his touch was warm, his fingers wrapping lightly around yours, anchoring you to the moment.

"it’s going to be okay," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the engine. "i promise."

you couldn’t bring yourself to respond, not yet, but something in his touch, in his words, soothed the ache just a little. you stared out the window again, watching the city lights blur past as the car made its way through the familiar streets. despite the heaviness inside you, there was a strange sense of peace in this moment—in his presence, in the quiet reassurance he gave without asking anything in return.

every now and then, you caught the way his hand moved on the steering wheel, the light reflecting off his skin as he handled the car with one hand, the other still resting protectively on yours. there was something about the way he drove, the quiet confidence in each movement, that made you feel... safe. not just physically, but in a way that went deeper, as if he could handle whatever came next, as long as he was by your side.

you let out a shaky breath, your tears drying on your cheeks, and leaned back into the seat, the weight of the night still heavy but no longer unbearable. and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe—just a little—that maybe it really would be okay.

before you even realized it, you had arrived at the entrance of your apartment’s parking lot. the streetlights cast long, hazy shadows on the ground, and the gentle hum of the car's engine began to fade as sunoo effortlessly turned it off. he glanced at you one last time before you stepped out, his eyes brimming with quiet hope and an encouraging smile that seemed to say, “you’re not alone in this.”without hesitation, he got out of the car and hurried around to your side, not giving you a chance to move on your own. he opened the door for you, his attention entirely focused on you and nothing else. with gentle hands, he helped you out of the car, and as you stood up, he carefully reached into the backseat to retrieve the bouquet of flowers.

you fumbled for your keys in your pocket, your hands still shaky from the tears that hadn't fully dried. sunoo noticed, of course he did, and with that same tenderness, he took the keys from you, his fingers brushing yours in a way that made you feel like he was absorbing some of the weight you carried. "i’ve got it," he whispered, his voice a soft promise. he unlocked the door and nudged it open, but he didn’t step in first. no, he let you take that step—letting you lead in your own space, your sanctuary that felt strangely foreign at this moment.

you walked in, the familiar scent of home greeting you, but everything felt too still, too quiet. the weight of the day hung in the air, pressing down on your chest as you stood there, unsure of what to do next. sunoo closed the door softly behind you and, without saying a word, helped you slip off your coat. his movements were slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to shield you from even the smallest discomfort. he guided you gently toward the sofa, the only thing that seemed to belong in the room right now.

"how about you sit here for a while," he whispered, his voice as soothing as the night itself, "i’ll make us some tea, something warm to help you feel better." and before you could respond, he was already in the kitchen, the sound of cabinets opening and the quiet clinking of mugs filling the silence that you hadn’t noticed until then. the soft whir of the kettle began, blending with the faint shuffle of his feet on the kitchen floor. it was comforting, these small noises of someone taking care of you, the way he always knew what you needed before you even realized it yourself.

you sank into the sofa, eyes falling on the bouquet now resting on the coffee table. they were beautiful, untouched by the sadness in your heart, as if they held onto the light that seemed so distant from you. the warmth of the room, the soft glow from the lamps sunoo had turned on without you noticing, everything began to feel less overwhelming, even just for a moment.

sunoo came back, holding two steaming mugs, the rich scent of tea swirling around you. he set them down carefully next to the flowers before settling beside you, close enough that his presence was a balm against the storm inside you. without a word, he opened his arms, and you collapsed into him, your body shaking as the tears returned. he held you tighter, one hand stroking your back in soothing circles, his voice a quiet hum of comfort. "it’s going to be okay, y/n," he murmured, "i’m here. i’ll always be here.

and for a second—just a second—you believed him. the warmth of his chest, the steady beat of his heart, the safety of his embrace made everything feel less terrifying. you burrowed deeper into his arms, letting the soft fabric of his hoodie and the strength of his hold anchor you. you looked up at him through tear-streaked lashes, his face illuminated by the soft lamplight. his words, his presence, made you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright.

sunoo didn’t say a word at first. he didn’t need to. his arms tightened around you, holding you as if he could shield you from the sadness that clung to you. he rested his chin on the top of your head, his steady breathing a rhythm that slowly started to soothe the chaos swirling inside you. his fingers gently threaded through your hair, soft strokes, as if each touch was meant to remind you he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

"it’s okay, let it out," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, but filled with so much warmth it almost made your chest ache. "i’m here. i’ll stay as long as you need me." his words weren’t rushed or forced, just a quiet truth, something solid in the midst of all the uncertainty that weighed down on you.

you could feel the wetness of your tears soaking through his hoodie, but he didn’t seem to care. he only held you closer, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, guiding it into the curve of his neck. you felt so small in his arms, but somehow, the pain felt a little less suffocating. the ache in your heart was still there, throbbing with every beat, but sunoo’s warmth kept you grounded, kept you from feeling like you were drowning.

"i know it hurts," he murmured into your hair, his breath warm against your scalp, "but you don’t have to go through it alone, okay? we’ll get through this together. i’ve got you." his voice cracked just the tiniest bit at the end, and you realized how much it hurt him to see you like this. but there wasn’t a trace of frustration or helplessness in his touch, only unwavering patience.

time seemed to stretch on endlessly, the minutes blending together as you cried into his arms. the room was still, the only sounds the faint ticking of the clock and your quiet sobs, slowly easing into shallow breaths. you clung to him, needing the solidness of his body, the reassurance of his touch.

"it’s going to be okay," he repeated softly, like a mantra. "i promise, y/n. i’ll be here every step of the way." he shifted slightly, just enough to pull you closer, his hand now cupping your cheek, brushing away the tears with the pad of his thumb. his eyes, warm and filled with nothing but concern, searched your face, making sure you were really there, really okay.

"i know it doesn’t feel like it right now," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "but one day, it won’t hurt as much. and when that day comes, you’ll look back and see how strong you are. but until then, lean on me. i’ll carry as much of this for you as i can."

his words washed over you like a balm, his presence a refuge from the pain that felt too heavy to bear. you didn’t have the strength to respond, but you didn’t need to. sunoo understood. he always did. he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual, as if trying to seal his promise with that one tender gesture.

slowly, the sobs subsided, leaving behind a quiet, aching stillness. your breathing steadied, and though the pain hadn’t left, it felt more bearable in the cocoon of his arms. you rested your head against his chest, listening to the soft, steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and let yourself be held, let yourself find comfort in his unwavering presence.

"just stay here with me," you whispered, your voice shaky and fragile. "don’t leave."

sunoo hugged you even tighter, his chin resting on your shoulder now. "i’m not going anywhere," he whispered back, his voice filled with so much certainty that, for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him. you closed your eyes, letting yourself melt into his embrace, and for a brief moment, the heartbreak seemed distant, something outside the walls of this small, quiet world the two of you had created.

slowly, the tension in your body eased as you stayed wrapped in his arms, the warmth of his chest steady against your cheek. you let out a shaky breath, feeling a small sliver of calm begin to take root amidst the chaos. sunoo's presence was enough, his quiet reassurances and the gentle rhythm of his breathing pulling you back from the edge of your heartbreak. after a moment, you pulled back slightly, enough to lift your head and meet his gaze.

sunoo’s hand moved gently from your back to your face, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw with the same delicate care he’d shown all night. he tilted your chin up slightly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. the room felt impossibly quiet, like the world outside had faded completely, leaving only the two of you in this small, warm space.

“you know,” he began softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “i’ve always admired you. not just for how strong you are… but for everything else. your kindness. your smile. the way you care for others, even when you’re hurting.”

his thumb brushed lightly across your cheek, the touch so tender that it made your heart stutter. “you don’t even realize how special you are, do you?” he asked, his eyes softening as they moved over your face, taking in every detail as if he wanted to memorize you in this moment. “and not just on the inside… you’re beautiful. you always have been.”

his words sank into you, deeper than you expected, and you felt a warmth bloom in your chest, something soft but undeniable. it was like he was seeing through all the pain, all the exhaustion, to the person you weren’t sure was still there anymore. and for the first time in a while, you felt seen. truly seen.

his hand stayed on your cheek, his palm warm against your skin, and you found yourself leaning into it slightly, as if you couldn’t help but be drawn closer to him. there was something magnetic about him in this moment—the way his gaze held yours, the way his touch seemed to chase away the cold that had been sitting inside you all night. you felt a strange pull, a quiet longing that you didn’t quite know how to name, but it was there, growing with every second you spent in his arms.

sunoo’s thumb brushed across your lips, just the faintest touch, but it sent a shiver through you. “i’m sorry you’ve been through so much,” he murmured, his voice even softer now. “but i promise… i’ll be here. i’ll always be here.”

there was something in his eyes, something deeper, that made your breath hitch in your throat. it wasn’t just reassurance anymore—there was a tenderness there, a kind of closeness that went beyond simple comfort. it felt like he was opening up a part of himself to you, something that had always been there, just waiting for you to notice.

and you did notice. suddenly, you were acutely aware of how close he was, of how his hand cradled your face with such care, of the way his gaze flickered down to your lips for just a split second before meeting your eyes again. the pull between you grew stronger, an invisible thread drawing you closer, until it was impossible to ignore.

your heart raced as you watched him, your mind spinning with the realization that you weren’t just seeking comfort anymore—you were seeking him. the closeness, the warmth, the way his words made you feel seen and understood… it all made you want to close the distance, to move closer, to let yourself fall into this strange but undeniable connection.

sunoo’s breath was shaky as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours so softly, it was almost like a question. the kiss was light, tentative, and for a moment, you froze. your eyes widened, surprised by the suddenness of it, your heart skipping a beat. it wasn’t what you had expected, not tonight, not like this. but even in your surprise, you didn’t pull away.

his lips were warm, soft, and his touch was so gentle it felt like he was afraid of pushing too far. but you didn’t move. you didn’t want to. something inside you was holding you there, caught in the moment, unable to back away.

sunoo pulled back first, his eyes wide with realization. “oh—i’m sorry,” he stammered, his voice full of regret. “i didn’t mean to… i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” his hands moved to your shoulders, as if to steady you, his eyes full of worry. “i shouldn’t have—”

but before he could finish, you found yourself reaching for him. your fingers brushed his cheek, stopping him mid-sentence. your mind was still reeling, but your heart knew what it wanted. without thinking, you leaned in, closing the gap between you. this time, the kiss wasn’t a question. it was an answer.

your lips met his softly at first, a gentle press that quickly deepened into something more. it wasn’t rushed or urgent, but it was full of emotion—a quiet desperation, a need for closeness that had been building all night. sunoo’s hands moved from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you gently towards him as his lips moved with yours in a slow, careful rhythm.

you felt his warmth seep into you, the soft heat of his hands as they slid up from your waist to your sides, his touch careful but sure. each movement was filled with tenderness, his fingers brushing your skin like he was afraid to break the moment, but at the same time, unable to let go.

your own hands found their way to his face, your fingers tangling gently in his hair as you kissed him back, matching his slow, steady pace. it was like nothing else existed in the world—just the two of you, the quiet hum of the room, and the soft press of his lips against yours. the warmth of him, the safety you felt in his arms, was overwhelming. you hadn’t realized how much you’d needed this—needed him—until now.

sunoo’s hands moved again, this time one slipping up to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek as he kissed you, his touch so full of care that it made your chest ache in the best way. the other hand stayed on your waist, holding you close, anchoring you to him in a way that felt both protective and intimate.

you could feel his heart racing, the steady thrum beneath his skin matching the rhythm of your own. there was something so gentle, so patient, in the way he kissed you, like he was taking his time, making sure every moment was soft, every touch full of meaning. his lips moved slowly, carefully, as if he wanted to savor every second of this closeness.

the kiss deepened, but never lost its gentleness. his hand moved from your face to your hair, his fingers threading through the strands as he kissed you with a quiet intensity. every touch, every soft brush of his lips, made you feel warmer, safer, like the world outside didn’t matter as long as he was here with you.

you melted into him, your body softening against his as the kiss continued, slow and tender. his hands explored your sides, your back, his touch never straying too far, but always grounding you in the moment. you felt cherished, held in a way that made you believe, if only for now, that everything would be okay.

eventually, the kiss slowed, but neither of you pulled away. your foreheads rested together, breaths mingling as you stayed close, his hands still cradling you gently. sunoo’s eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with a softness that made your heart ache all over again.

“i… i don’t know what this means,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, “but… i’m here. and i’ll keep being here… as long as you need me.”

his words, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the quiet comfort of being held—it all made you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time. safe. wanted. and maybe, just maybe, like you could let yourself fall into this, into him, without fear.

the room felt suspended in time, the quiet hum of the city outside dimming until it was just the two of you, lost in each other’s presence. your head rested on sunoo’s chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing soothing, like the softest lullaby. you looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and a small smile tugged at your lips. there was something so tender in the way he looked back at you, his eyes full of warmth and affection that made your heart flutter.

sunoo’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go. his voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it filled the space between you with a kind of sweetness that made your chest feel light.

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hand gently caressing your arm, his thumb brushing over your skin in slow, soothing strokes. “i’ve always thought so… even when you don’t see it yourself.”

his words made your smile widen, a warmth blooming inside you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. you nestled closer to him, your heart beating steadily in time with his. it was easy to get lost in this moment, the way he held you, the way his voice was like a soft caress against your skin.

“you deserve so much more,” he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. “more love, more happiness. and i’ll make sure you have that. even if it’s just for tonight, i’ll give you everything i can.”

his forehead rested against yours for a moment, his breath mingling with yours, his fingers still trailing gently up and down your arm. it felt like you were in your own little world, shielded from the rest of the universe by the warmth of his embrace. sunoo kissed your forehead softly, his lips lingering there for a few seconds, as if trying to absorb every ounce of pain you had carried. his other hand slipped up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek as he kissed you there again, whispering sweet nothings into your skin.

you couldn’t help but smile, the soft affection between you making your heart swell. without thinking, you leaned up and pressed your lips to his again, just a quick peck, something so innocent yet full of meaning. when you pulled back, sunoo chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling in the corners as a small laugh escaped you too.

for a moment, everything was light again, like the weight of the world had been lifted. but then the silence settled over you once more, and you found yourselves staring into each other’s eyes, the connection between you deepening with every second that passed. the air felt charged with something you couldn’t quite name, something that made your heart race and your breath hitch.

you leaned in first this time, and your lips met his again, the kiss soft but full of emotion. sunoo’s arms tightened around you, and you felt his body shift slightly, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he kissed you back with a slow, deliberate tenderness. it wasn’t rushed, but it was filled with a kind of quiet longing that made your heart skip a beat.

somehow, without either of you realizing it, you found yourselves shifting positions. sunoo moved carefully, his hands never leaving your body as he gently guided you back onto the sofa. you sank into the cushions, your back pressed against the soft fabric, and sunoo hovered above you, his knees on either side of your hips as he leaned down, his lips brushing yours again. he was careful, keeping most of his weight off you, his body hovering close but never pressing down.

the kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours in a slow, intoxicating rhythm. his hands slid from your waist to your sides, his touch gentle but full of purpose, like he was savoring every moment of this closeness. you could feel the heat of his body above you, the warmth of his breath against your skin, and it made your head spin in the best way.

your hands found their way to his shoulders, then his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss grew more passionate. it wasn’t rushed, but there was a quiet urgency between you now, a need to feel more of each other, to hold on tighter to this moment. sunoo’s lips left yours for just a second, trailing down to the curve of your jaw, then to the soft skin of your neck. his kisses were light, tentative, like he was testing the waters, waiting for your response.

you didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch. instead, you let your hands slide into his hair, your fingers tangling gently in the strands as his lips brushed against your skin. the sensation sent a shiver through you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable—it was something else entirely, something warm and inviting.

sunoo must have felt it too, because after a moment, he returned to your lips, capturing them in another slow, tender kiss. this time, his hands moved up to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing gently across your cheeks as he kissed you with the same gentle intensity as before. there was something so soft, so reassuring in his touch, like he was reminding you that he was here, that you weren’t alone anymore.

between kisses, his lips hovered just above yours, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, “your touch… it’s unlike anything i’ve ever felt before. it’s like… you were made for this, for being held like this.”

his words made your chest tighten, your heart swelling with something you couldn’t quite name. the tenderness in his voice, the way he spoke to you like you were the most precious thing in the world, made you feel more seen and more cherished than you had in a long time.

you kissed him again, your lips seeking his with a newfound hunger, and sunoo responded in kind, his hands moving from your face to your waist, then back up to your sides, cradling you gently as if you were something fragile. each kiss was slow, deliberate, filled with a kind of care that made you feel safe, protected. his lips moved with yours in perfect sync, the connection between you growing deeper with every passing second.

the warmth of his body, the softness of his touch, the gentle rhythm of his kisses—it all made you feel like you were floating, like you were wrapped in a cocoon of comfort and affection that you never wanted to leave. and in that moment, as you lay there with sunoo, the world outside faded away completely, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other’s touch, in each other’s warmth.

as you lay beneath him, the gentle rhythm of his lips on yours began to stir something deeper inside. the tenderness, the warmth—it was no longer enough. there was a magnetic pull, a craving that grew with every brush of his lips. you felt it in the way sunoo’s hands roamed your sides, a bit more deliberate, his fingers pressing slightly harder as though he too was feeling the same urgency between you.

sunoo’s kisses trailed lower, down your jaw to your neck, and you couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped you. he was so careful, his lips barely grazing your skin at first, then growing bolder, leaving a trail of delicate, wet kisses down the curve of your neck. your hands slid up into his hair, tangling in the soft strands, encouraging him as he moved, his lips pressing deeper, lingering longer, until you felt the faintest tug of teeth.

his breath was warm against your skin, his kisses shifting lower as he pulled at the collar of your blouse, just enough to expose your collarbone. your heart raced as he kissed there, the sensation of his lips making your body respond in ways that made your chest tighten. sunoo’s kisses were slow and intentional, his mouth working its way across your skin, each kiss sending a ripple of warmth through you.

his lips hovered for a moment, just beneath your ear, and he whispered softly, “i want to take care of you… all of you.”

the words sent a shiver down your spine, a shiver that only deepened when his mouth returned to your neck, leaving the faintest of marks in his wake, barely noticeable but there, a silent claim. your breath hitched as his lips found the hollow at the base of your throat, and he pulled your blouse aside a little more, giving himself access to your collarbone. his kisses there were slower, wetter, each one pulling a small, soft gasp from you.

your fingers trembled as they made their way to the hem of his hoodie, your mind spinning with the heat of his touch. you hesitated for a moment, your fingers pausing, but the craving to feel more of him—his warmth, his skin—overpowered any doubts. with a slow, tentative movement, you tugged the fabric up, exposing the firm muscles beneath.

sunoo’s body was sculpted, each line of his chest and abs defined, and your gaze was instantly drawn to the sight of him. he noticed your stare, a soft chuckle escaping him, his lips curling into a small smirk that made your heart race even faster. he grabbed your hand, his touch gentle yet firm, and guided it to his chest. pressing your palm flat against the hard planes of his skin, he leaned in, his voice low, teasing.

“go on,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “i’m not going anywhere.”

the warmth of his skin under your fingers was electric, his heart beating steadily beneath your touch. you smiled, feeling more confident, and sunoo’s smirk only deepened as he watched you, his gaze never leaving yours.

before you could think twice, you shifted positions again, moving so that you were straddling him, your legs on either side of his hips. his back rested against the sofa, his hands finding your waist, holding you steady as you moved on top of him. your heart pounded in your chest, the intimacy of the moment overwhelming, but the way sunoo’s hands gripped your hips, the way his lips found your shoulder, made you feel like you were exactly where you belonged.

he leaned in, his mouth once again trailing a line of slow, wet kisses down your shoulder and across your collarbone. the space he had exposed earlier was now his playground, and every kiss, every press of his lips, sent a new wave of heat rushing through you. your breath came in shallow gasps, your hands gripping his shoulders as he worked his way lower, his kisses more insistent, more demanding.

with trembling fingers, you reached for the hem of your blouse, pulling it over your head and letting it fall to the floor. you wanted to give him more—more access, more of yourself. the vulnerability of the moment was overwhelming, but sunoo’s touch, his gaze, made you feel safe.

his hands slid from your waist to your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine as his lips moved back up to meet yours. there was a hunger now, a shared desire that neither of you could deny. his kisses were deeper, more passionate, his hands gripping your waist as if to ground himself in the heat of the moment.

the heat between you was palpable, the desire undeniable, yet sunoo remained so careful, so attentive to your every move, every reaction. his lips found yours again, and the kiss deepened, his hands roaming your body as he held you close. and in that moment, everything else faded away—the pain, the heartbreak, the doubt. all that remained was the warmth of his body, the softness of his lips, and the undeniable pull that drew you closer to him with every touch.

“you look so beautiful tonight,” he whispered, staring down at your exposed cleavage, the only obstacle keeping him away from your tits being a piece of laced bra. sunoo couldn’t help but smirked, making eye contact with you again before turning you around, your back against his chest. he led you to lean on him, his hands trailing invisible lines on your stomach and reaching the bra wire. “will you let me?” he whispered into your ear.

you nodded, in the intensity of the moment, and threw your head back on his shoulder when his hands found their way under your bra and cupped your tits, sending you butterflies. his hands were firm on your chest, but not forceful. you bit your lower lip as his index fingers touched your nipples each, crossing your legs in response. sunoo smiled at the notice of that, realising he’s just found one of your sensitive spots. his fingers continued teasing your buds, as a heat started to grow between your legs, the sense of wetness being more and more intense.

“do you want me to go harder on them or is this just perfect?” he whispered again, gently continuing with his play. he couldn’t get tired of it, your nipples felt just right between his fingers, your tits fitting in his hands just perfectly, finding their own new owner. “i like it like that” you barely said, afraid to escape a light moan. sunoo nodded, not changing his rhythm or strength on you, fulfilling all of your desires.

feeling your ass keep moving on his lap, the bulge inside his pants started to get more and more noticeable. you felt his hardness pressing against you, a testament to his perpetual attraction to your body. eager to show him your mutual affection, you pressed harder against him, keeping your lips shut with your teeth, holding your whines back. the way his hardened part pushed into your thin leggings caused more wetness to add up, an ocean in your panties.

“you turn me on so much” he confessed, unable to control his whining. his hands slowly left your tits in place, following to open your bra from behind, the piece of cloth falling hopelessly on the floor. “more reasons for my hands to hold you close” sunoo whispered, “but i think there’s something else that wants to be held too”

unhesitant, his right hand went down your body, reaching your most sensitive part. he used two fingers to trail a line between your legs, slowly, firmly, just the right way to tease every single bit of you. then the line turned into a circle, your clit being triggered every few seconds, and your moans couldn’t be hidden anymore. you opened your legs apart, giving him more access to your needy cunt, screaming for his touch under the piece of cloth. he noticed so, and pressed harder until your folds were holding onto the leggings, taking the shape of your perfect pussy.

“so pretty” he whispered softly inside you ear, sending the now-lost-number of shivers from today, through your whole body. his voice sounded incredible itself, but his whispering awakened a whole new emotion within you. sunoo could not take a break from feeling your wetness in his hand, his impatient fingers pushing the leggings harder inside you. "do you want more, y/n?" he gave you the right to choose like the gentleman he is and you nodded in response, unable to control yourself.

it only took a second for him to process your answer and stand up while letting you fall, carefully, on the sofa. his figure was so beautiful in the dim light, every line forming his abs almost shadowing his body in small places. his straight shoulder added more masculinity to his aura while his permanent smirk went down your body, his head facing your clothed cunt.

"let's take these off" and in the next moment, your leggings were nowhere to be found. his breathe, hot enough, was now making your panties even more soaked. he stuck his playful tongue out, reaching closer to your pussy while his eyes did not leave yours at all, not for a single minute.

you looked down at him and smiled naively, just as his tongue dragged a wet line along your panties, going from bottom to your clit. he paid extra attention to it, giving it an additional lick to end the first round. you trembled at his touch, your lips covered in biting marks now.

impatiently, sunoo pulled your panties aside, a new image raising ahead of him. “you have such a pretty pussy, sweetheart” he whispered again, giving it a quick lick to make your body shake. he giggled and continued with a second one, this time slower and more precise, his eyes on you still. and then the simple up and down line became a whole maze, his adventurous tongue exploring every single bit of you. and as he felt his tongue wasn’t doing enough to satisfy his taste, sunoo started taking your cunt inside his mouth, feeling your flavour down his throat.

he rolled his eyes back at the taste of that and continued to eat you hungrily, moaning inside you. his hands were now holding onto your thighs firmly, dragging them closer so we could bury his face deeper inside you. on the other side, you threw your head back, whining his name aloud. without hesitation, you pushed his head deeper inside, only receiving more moans from him. not only his moans were loud, but the way he was eating out, like he has been so starved for your taste for years.

“you taste like sugar” he raised his head to say, winking at you teasingly. you giggled and hid your face behind your hands, shy now more than ever. he noticed so and came closer to your face, his fingers trailing along your inner thighs. “want to feel my fingers, baby?” he asked, biting your earlobe softly, but enough to get a whine out of you. you nodded again, unable to find your words, and that’s all it took for him to push his fingers all the way inside you pussy, without any warnings or adjustments.

“sunoo-ya!!” you screamed, your arms around his neck and gazing at his beautiful, precious smile, which turned into a smirk as his fingers rushed to slide outside and inside you, no break, no question, just him aggressively taking over your cunt. it felt so good words couldn’t be formed anymore, regardless of your tries to call out his name. you couldn’t do anything but stutter, eyes rolling back more and more and arms growing weaker around his neck.

“do you like them inside you?” he asked, almost aware of your impossibility to say a word. you tried to nod, again, but not even that was an option anymore. you clenched around his fingers, legs shaking in pleasure. sunoo left more wet kisses around your neck and collarbone, reaching your breasts again. unlike before, now it was his teeth that teased your nipples, nibbling and playfully pulling them towards him. his mouth, unable to resist, took your left tit inside, sucking on it like a baby. which was way too ironic, considering how ruined your pussy was by now, his fingers still going.

“s-sunoo, please s-stop” you managed to say quietly. “shhhh, baby” he whispered, boob still inside his mouth, licking around it loudly and moaning softly. “tonight i am crazy over you” sunoo confessed, as he finally gave your wetness a break, and licked his fingers. “tastes like….mine” he chuckled, pushing his fingers inside your mouth and making you suck on them. you did so, feeling your own taste inside your mouth and relishing it.

“you ask me to stop but the way you clench around my hand…says something else”

sunoo kissed your forehead and sat down next to you. he dragged you closer into his chest, a solemn will for his care and took your hand inside his, placing a final kiss on your skin. “you make me go crazy over you, y/n” he whispered, feeling your delicate skin around. “i don’t have a condom right now, but if you want me to make you feel good again,” he took a small break, turning around to gaze into your eyes “i’ll make sure to bring you to heaven next time”

can you tell i was listening to moonstruck in the last part? hope you enjoyed and feedback is highly appreciated 🤍

[yan-lorkai]

Since I checked that suggestive fic are fine could you write one for Jamil where reader has been pining for him for a long time but he is hesitant since he has Kalim to take care off and can't slack off or smth

Ignore if you want :) and sorry if I overlooked a rule!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I've made you wait quite a bit, darling, but I finally finished writing this ⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾. Though I let it end in a happy ending, originally it was going to end in a more bittersweet way. Either way, I hope you like it!

You had always known there was something about Jamil that captivated you, pulling you in with each passing day. He was more than just the stoic and responsible figure that stood in Kalim’s shadow. He was hardworking, kind and always reliable, traits that only made your heart ache with longing. For so long, you kept your feelings hidden, knowing he carried more responsibility than anyone should, but tonight, something in you snapped.

You watched Jamil move through the courtyard, his shoulders slightly hunched from the weight of the day. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to tell him how you felt, even if you knew there was a risk he might push you away. He needed to know that there was he could lean on.

"Jamil," you called out softly, your voice barely carrying across the courtyard. His steps slowed, and he turned toward you, his usual unreadable expression in place.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice steady but his eyes filled with that quiet exhaustion you had come to recognize.

You swallowed, nerves threatening to choke your words. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

Jamil raised a brow, stepping closer. “I’m listening.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you gathered your courage. “I, uh… Well, Jamil, I like you. A lot. I know you’re always busy, taking care of Kalim, and I know how hard you work, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way. I've been holding onto those feelings for a very long time.”

For a moment, there was silence. Jamil blinked, visibly taken aback by your confession. He opened his mouth to speak but seemed to hesitate, his brows furrowing in deep thought.

You pressed on, feeling your chest tighten. “I just wanted you to know. I know you have a lot on your plate, and I don’t want to be a burden, but I had to tell you how I feel.”

Jamil exhaled slowly, his eyes softening as he watched you. He looked like he wanted to say something, but again, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to pull him back.

“It’s not that I don’t…” He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I can’t afford to get distracted right now. Kalim needs me. I can’t let my guard down, even if it’s for something — someone — I care about.”

Your breath hitched at his words but before you could respond, a familiar voice broke through the tension.

“Oh, come on, Jamil!” Kalim’s voice rang out from behind the nearby fountain, startling both of you. He stepped out from behind the marble structure with a wide grin, looking between you and Jamil like this was the best thing he’d ever witnessed. “I knew you liked them too! You don’t have to worry about me so much!”

Jamil’s eyes widened in shock, a flush creeping up his neck. “Kalim — what are you — how long have you been listening?”

Kalim waved off Jamil’s question with a laugh, completely unbothered. “Long enough! I wasn’t spying, I promise, but I heard some of what you said. Jamil, you work so hard, but you’re allowed to be happy too! I can take care of myself sometimes, you know.” He grinned, glancing at you. “And besides, I think they’d make you really happy, they always looked at you with such adoring eyes!”

Your heart fluttered, unsure of what to say. Kalim, in his usual cheerful way, had just dismantled all the walls Jamil had carefully built around himself.

“Kalim, it’s not that simple,” Jamil muttered, still looking flustered.

Kalim crossed his arms, his grin never fading. “It is that simple! You deserve to have someone who cares about you. I’ll be fine! And, you know, I kinda already figured you liked them.”

Jamil looked down, clearly battling with himself, but Kalim’s words seemed to have chipped away at his resolve. He glanced back at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of uncertainty and… something else.

After a long pause, Jamil let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I… I do like you. More than I’ve wanted to admit,” He finally said, his voice soft but sincere. “But I’ve always been worried that if I let myself have something for me, it’ll somehow mess everything up.”

You stepped closer, your heart swelling with hope. “You won’t mess anything up, Jamil. You deserve to have something for yourself, too. I’m not asking you to change anything — I just want to be there for you, like you’re always there for everyone else.”

Jamil looked at you for a long moment, and finally, his tense posture relaxed. He exhaled deeply, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe… you’re right.”

Kalim clapped his hands, clearly thrilled with the way things were unfolding. “See? This is great! I’ll be fine, Jamil. You two go ahead and be happy together!”

Jamil shot him a look, but there was no real bite behind it. Instead, he turned his attention back to you, his eyes softening in a way you’d never seen before. “I can’t promise I’ll always get it right,” he murmured, his hand reaching for yours. “But I’ll try. If you’re willing to put up with that.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with warmth as you took his hand. “I’m more than willing.”

As you stood there, hand in hand with Jamil, Kalim grinning like he had just orchestrated the happiest ending possible, you couldn’t help but feel that, maybe, everything had finally fallen into place.

[daydreamerwoah]

Family Tree (Chapter 4)

tw: awkwardness; drinking

Simon x Y/n <3

When you walked back toward the booth, you could see three additional bodies sitting with Ella. Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself to put on a face to meet her boyfriend and his friends. God, why didn't you just leave when you had the chance? Maybe you could sneak back to the bathroom so you could have more time to calm your nerves. You cursed yourself for not bringing your bag; maybe then you could have just left the place entirely and told Ella you had to leave when you saw her the next day at work. 

But no. You didn't have the chance to think of a grand escape plan. 

Ella's eyes found yours and an excited grin found its way on her lips, making the guy sitting beside her glance your way.

Shit. 

"Guys," she said as you made it to the table, "this is Y/n." she gestured to the three men sitting there.

Your eyes first landed on the brown-skinned man who was next to her. "Kyle," he introduced himself, sticking his hand out to shake yours. "This is my fella," your friend sweetly said before kissing his cheek playfully. Somehow, seeing them next to each other, you could instantly tell how they fit perfectly for one another. 

"Steamin' Christ," the guy sitting across from Kyle said, catching your attention "These two," he playfully rolled his eyes, "Name's John, but you can call me Johnny lass," he joked, making the couple laugh. 

"He's just jealous his bird is deployed right now," Kyle shot back. 

You wanted to ask what the hell bird meant, but from how you were just talking about Ella and Kyle, you thought it had something to do with a girl he was with. At least you hope that's what it was.

Johnny scoffed, "Yeah whatever."

"Scoot," Ella told Kyle, making room for you to sit next to her in the booth. You smiled before squeezing your way in, "And this-" she said, making your eyes look at the body that was now sitting across from you, "- is Simon."

Your heart dropped five flights of stairs down to your stomach the moment you saw the man. The dark brown eyes, the black surgical mask, the hood that covered the rest of his head. It was the guy you'd seen in the cafe twice; the guy you hastily backed up into, and fuck did you want to hide under the table. Your eyes widened, and you gulped, embarrassingly obvious. Ella subtly glanced at Johnny and Kyle, who both had a curious look in their eyes but remained quiet. It was amazing how the three of them had come to the same conclusion that you had to have known him somehow.

"Uh hi," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt, "Nice to meet you guys," you glanced around the table. 

A waitress brought each one of them drinks, giving a thankful distraction to the table as she set down the glasses. But it wasn't a good enough distraction for Simon Riley. The moment you walked back to the table and he glanced at you, his eyes narrowed slightly. From the side of your face, he thought you looked familiar but couldn't place where he'd seen you before. It wasn't like he remembered a lot of things when it came to his civilian life - especially people - but it was something about you that screamed I've seen you. It wasn't until you sat down across from him that he was indeed correct; he had seen you before... in the cafe. And by the look on your face, you had remembered him too. The slight furrow of his eyebrows was slightly covered by the hood, but you saw it. 

You wanted to believe that he wouldn't recognize you. I mean, he probably saw a lot of people during the day like you did. Surely some girl who bumped into him weeks ago would spark anything for him to think about that moment... would it?

Wrong.

You tried your best to keep your focus on everything else going on at the table; Kyle and Johnny discussing a little bit about their last mission - the pieces that weren't confidential; each time one of them raised their glass to take a sip of their drink; anything.

While Ella asked Kyle and Johnny about what all happened earlier in the day, Simon's eyes subtly remained on you. Maybe this time you'd catch him staring, and then you'd feel slightly better about catching him. But he was quick... each time you found yourself glancing his way, his eyes would already be on the couple. He was a soldier, after all. Everything he did was silent and quick… Except for his intimate moments, but that rarely was shown to anyone. Even the one night stands he had, they had never even seen his face before, so there was no way they'd see anything more.

But hell, this was awkward as fuck. So awkward you found your leg slightly bouncing under the table. 

"So lass," Johnny said as he took a sip of his drink, "America?" You slightly raised your eyebrow at his quick conclusion, making him smirk, "The accent." 

Oh.

You nodded, quickly looking at Simon before going back to Johnny, "Yeah."

I mean, it was hella obvious that you weren't from anywhere except across the pond. 

"What made you move here?" Kyle chimed in. 

A beat went by before, "Family," your short answer came out. But Ella, already proving herself the best bestie there was, switched topics immediately.

"I was thinking about cooking a big dinner on Friday. You all should come over yeah?"

Bless her heart. You didn't even know if she really was going to cook or not, but it definitely got their attention changed to food and how good Ella's cooking was. You slightly lowered your head, thankful for the change in topics, but this didn't go unnoticed by the quiet man sitting across from you. He was no stranger to avoiding anything that remotely talked about family, considering he didn't like to talk about his either. But he didn't like the feeling that crossed his mind about why you didn't like to talk about yours. Were they back in the States? Were you close to them? Were they dead? All those questions ran through his mind as he looked at you for a moment. 

Feeling his gaze, you briefly glanced up meeting his eyes, before cutting them away to pay attention to Ella talk about everything she was going to cook. 

"Oh you should join us," she said, looking at you. 

And risk running into the man - erm, Simon - again? 

"I can't... have to take care of some things," you declined, once again coming up with an excuse.

Well, it wasn't an excuse. You did have something to do. Continue fixing up the damn townhome. 

Her famous pout formed on her lips, making you give her a sad smile. If she convinced you to do anything else today, your head was going to spin. 

"Fine," she playfully rolled her eyes, "But one day you have to. Deal?" You nodded. She glanced down at your empty glass from earlier, "Want another bourbon?" she asked, making the table go silent for like... three seconds. Although it felt like an eternity.

"Y'drink bourbon?" Johnny asked, with a look on his face that was unknown to you, it made you slightly blush sheepishly. But Ella and Kyle, that look made their lips turn upward before simultaneously glancing at Simon. He, however, felt his eyebrow raise at hearing her ask you that question. Another thing that made him curious about you. 

You nodded, "Yeah," you answered him before looking at Ella once more, "But no. Think I'm gonna head out."

She groaned before a thought popped in her head, "Wait. Come to the restroom with me," she pleaded and all but gently shoved you out of the booth before grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the restroom. You didn't even have time to protest before you were walking behind her toward the back of the pub. The moment the two of you stepped inside the restroom, she faced you with a big, toothy grin, "Alright spill. How do you know Ghost?"

Your eyebrows drew closer together, "Ghost?"

Rolling her eyes, "Simon. We call him Ghost cause that's what he usually goes by - his callsign. But whatever. How do you know him?" she smiled. 

"I don't know him."

"Bollocks. When you looked at him, your eyes got so big I thought they were gonna pop out ya head," she teased. 

You wanted to laugh, but the fact that she saw the way you looked at him made you freeze a little. You weren't that obvious were you? You had two choices: brush her and the topic off like it never even happened, or tell her. The thought that she'd bug the shit out of you forever if you didn't say anything made you cringe a little. You glanced around the restroom, feeling silly about why you even felt awkward about the guy.

"I just-it's a cafe I went to a few weeks ago. I was in a hurry to get to work and accidentally bumped into him after I ordered my latte. It was embarrassing, to say the least," you said, remembering that day vividly for some reason, "And then I saw him again the other day. I wasn't-wasn't staring or anything, but he caught me looking at him. Talk about being a weirdo. Just didn't think I'd see him again," you finished, somehow zoning out a little at the memory of how you embarrassed yourself in front of a man what was now three times. 

And god was Ella beaming inside.

The same thing could be said for Johnny and Kyle back at the table. 

"Seems like she likes ya L.T.," Johnny teased, nudging Simon's shoulder, making the large man huff, "She likes bourbon too."

Kyle chuckled, taking a sip of his drink, "You've seen her before?" 

Simon was a man who never talked about his personal life, not even to his teammates. What little they knew about him was snippets of his past and that he enjoyed a good Kentucky bourbon any day of the week. There were bits of pieces that he sometimes indulged them in, but for the most part, what he did when he wasn't at work was any of their guesses. So knowing that you had seen a girl - Ella's coworker at that - intrigued them like small boys learning about something their big brother was doing. 

"Wouldn't ya like to know," he responded, the cockiness of his personality coming a bit. 

Although he was quiet - ghostly quiet - Simon was playfully cocky, and every now and again, his friends would catch a moment. This made the two other men chuckle, teasing him more about where he probably met you.

After a minute or two, you and Ella had made it back to the table, her taking a seat next to her boyfriend again while you grabbed your bag. 

"It was nice meeting you guys," you said, bidding farewell to them. Before you left, Ella made you - more like demanded with a laugh - that you put your number in her phone. You couldn't help but slightly grin as you did. Handing it back to her, you took one last look at the three men sitting in the booth as well, eyes lingering a bit longer on Simon. He didn't even hide that he was looking at you too. It made your stomach flip at the silent interaction. "Bye," you said before leaving the pub. 

If you were lucky, you probably wouldn't have to see him again and further embarrass yourself. 

I feel like this wasn't awkward enough but I was having a hard time putting thoughts into the writing lol!! I might rewrite this What yall think?

Taglist: @simp-4-masked-men @dayrin085 @jessicab1991 @kylies-love-letter @kalypsoox @brownlee-22 @firefoxkairan

[matrixbearer2024]

Just something I'd like to say about the Stan twins among other things I've seen here on tumblr and everywhere else. Also because I'm genuinely confused why this is even a thing. I don't really see the point in why people have to look at characters and say: good/bad, nuances exist and morality is mostly grey haha.

One of the reasons why I chose to write for Ford isn't really because I don't think he's a bad person, au contraire I know he's done really shitty things but I don't think he's bad. That would be an oversimplification.

If I had to be completely open about it, his situation is actually pretty similar to mine aside from the fact his sibling is a twin. My brother is two years younger than me.

But still, shit happens. Cornered by everyone and everything, one is labeled as gifted and special while the other is seen as stupid and useless, then the split between family and aspiration.

Granted, I've never made a deal with a demonic piece of geometry and I've gone through a different set of circumstances in a completely different time frame– but still. I get where his arrogance comes from and I get how being outcasted can make you prone to doing a lot of shitty things to chase validation.

God forbid someone comes to you and strokes your ego to death, that's the easiest way to manipulate someone with the picture of self-confidence and it's made of glass.

I can't say that what happened to me was a fortunate occurrence, but I was severely humbled at a young age and it's probably why I turned out differently. Ford never really did, he clung onto the idea of being special and being a coveted rarity.

Point is, I can kind of see where he's coming from and a lot of his fights with Stan I also kind of understand. I'm not condoning his actions, especially because I've had legendary fights with my brother before and remembering them all makes me feel like shit because there are things I've done I can never bring myself to forgive– but it's why I can understand why shit unfolded the way it did.

I'm not even going to go into grudges because I've held a grudge over someone for 12 years so I can also get why Ford would end up doing that for fucking 30– but yeah. I don't think either twin is really right or wrong. Stan got dealt a bad hand like my brother, and Ford got shoved into the limelight like me. I can understand the both of them well.

Also to those who wonder why Stan would even forgive Ford, I don't know what else to say other than it might be a sibling thing. I used to fight with my brother simply because he'd excel better in some of the things I do. I'd purposefully work harder to overshadow him and he knew. He would let me succeed and even rub it in his face because he saw that it made me happy.

Even after all this time he doesn't hold it against me so that's something I'm eternally grateful for. But yeah, he cared that much when all I did was be selfish. I still think it depends on some siblings but yeah, for these two they hit close to home just for doing what they do.

Not to mention, my brother's also had his moments where it looks like he's destroyed my things/projects on the sole reason that he thinks it's taking me away from him. That it's taking his best friend away from him.

One of those times was when I was creating a painting for a competition years ago, he got mad I spent so much time on it and accidentally knocked over the water container and it spilled all over my work. The painting was effectively ruined and I blew up at him for it.

Sound familiar?

Where Stan played off his destruction, my brother kept apologizing and owning up to his fuck-up. Where Ford refused to listen, I eventually just compromised with my brother and told him to help me create the new painting.

That painting didn't win any prizes but still ended up being exhibited, I'd show a picture of it with my brother and I next to it if I didn't like keeping my irl family private online.

Ford also being kind of unable to move on/deal with himself is something I do to detriment. It takes a lot to deal with that, much more overcome it.

Things change, time passes, circumstances shift. But yeah, this is just my two cents on it and kind of a window to why I also write Ford and Stan the way I do.

[murderedbyhomework]

MLC novel extra translation + translator's notes

For anyone who doesn't want to click into the link translation offered below the cut

Main Text:

Two years later. on the shore of the East Sea, in Kecuo Village1.

Kecuo Village was just near Yuncuo Village. Outside the village, fishing nets were hung up to dry in the sun, and with around a hundred residents in the village, it was much smaller than Yuncuo.

There was someone hanging up fishing nets to dry behind a house.

Said man was tall and very slender, with extremely pale skin, as if it hadn’t seen the sun in ages. His right arm hung limp at his side, appearing paralyzed, so he used one left hand to slowly adjust the position of the fishing net, seeming to take immense joy in the action. It was just that his vision appeared to be impaired, sometimes needing to use his fingers to map out objects as he worked, occasionally leaning very close to something to see clearly.

“Damned Lianhua!” Someone snarled, running out from the house.

“Didn’t this respectable one2 tell you to be good and rest in the house? You mostly blind three legged cat, you still have the guts to go out and fish? Do you think it was easy for this respectable one to travel here far from the capital? You’re just going to provoke me like that?”

The person hanging up the nets turned around, revealing a familiar face. He squinted his eyes, putting his face close to Fang Duobing’s as he looked at him for quite a while, before seeming to just barely remember who he was.

“Oh, it’s Young Master Shi3, have you been well these days?” He said happily.

Fang Duobing felt a thunderous surge of fury4!

“Young Master Shi? Who’s your Young Master Shi? Who let you call him that? This respectable one is Fang Duobing! It’s been one fucking month apart and you you only remember Young Master Shi? What did he ‘give’5 to you? This respectable one sent hundreds of people to search for you along rivers and seashores, and was as tired as a dog, and then turns out you’ve become an idiot, so this respectable one gives you food and shelter and clothes like some wet nurse, and I don’t see you calling me Young Master Fang!”

Li Lianhua squinted his eyes again, putting his face near his to scrutinise him for the second time.

“Oh, Sect Leader Xiao.” He said with a bright smile.

Fang Duobing jumped up again in increasing anger, body shaking with fury.

“Sect………Sect Leader Xiao? That bastard—Why should you need to remember that bastard? Forget him for me, forget all of them—“

He grabbed Li Lianhua and shook him violently, and it was not until he felt that he had mostly shaken that “Sect Leader Xiao” out of Li Lianhua’s mind that he stopped.

“Who is this respectable one? This respectable one is Fang Duobing, the prince consort of this period, remember that now?”

At that, Li Lianhua lost any interest to look at him.

“Oh, the prince consort,” He turned away to continue hanging the fishing nets.

“You ungrateful, muddle-headed, shameless dastardly bastard!”

Fang Duobing gestured violently at his back, curses spilling from his mouth. Unfortunately for him, the subject of these curses had his undivided attention on his fishing nets, and was deaf to the world, not that he would understand what Fang Duobing was saying even if he was listening.

Fang Duobing suddenly let out a long breath, fumbling for a chair and sitting down. Damned Lianhua wasn’t dead. He’d been washed out into the sea on that little boat, and had been picked up by fishermen. Still, he was alive, and that was enough.

Even if when he’d been found, he’d lost the use of his right hand, and along with it his vision and his once sharp mind, confused and naive to the world like a common dog. And yet……… he wasn’t dead, and that was enough. Just as he was now, no longer remembering insignificant wrongs or rights, no longer intelligent and full of plans, going fishing if he liked it, growing vegetables if he liked it, raising chickens if he liked it, occasionally sunning himself and talking with the old men and women next door.

What was so bad about it?

What was so bad about it?

His eyes burned with tears. He thinks that having this view on Li Lianhua’s situation shows how much he’s let go, and yet he still remembers the Li Lianhua back then who’d steal rabbits from monasteries with him, would gently smile as him and tease “Your brilliance really is unmatched”, the Li Lianhua who had a slightly stingy temper.

Now, the person sunning the fish nets was humming some unknown little tune as he slowly made his way out of the backyard. Outside the backyard was the beach, and further put was the sea. There was a man in dark clothes standing calmly outside, seemingly looking at the sea.

Li Lianhua sneakily looked back, before gladly making his way towards a sandy piece of land, where a chess board with nineteen rows both vertical and horizontal lay6, many pebbles lying on the board. He sat at one end of the board with a proper air, smiling as he asked,

“The one hundred and thirty sixth move, have you decided yet?”

The man in black continued staring at the sea, and after a while, he calmly replied,

“I lost.”

Li Lianhua held his hand out, a bright smile on his face.

“One unit of silver7.”

The man waved his arm, throwing a unit of silver over. Suddenly, he asked,

“Do you really not remember who I am?”

Li Lianhua immediately nodded.

“I do remember.”

The man8 trembled slightly.

“And I am………”

“You’re the wealthy man.” Li Lianhua said with an utterly serious air.

Translator’s notes:

柯厝村, known as Kecuo Village, is an actual town in Fujian Province, China.

The Chinese term used is 老子, which can either refer to Philosopher Lao Tzu, one’s father, or a self important/joking way to refer to oneself. In Fang Duobing’s case, he’s basically saying “myself” but as the word can also mean father, he’s giving himself a sense of superiority or authority over others, as he considers himself someone of high social standing like his seniors without actually being a father/senior.

Young Master Shi is Shi Wenjue, who in the show is the scholar who faked his suicide and got ‘resurrected’ by Li Lianhua. He’s extremely tanned, and despite being a scholar he’s failed the imperial exams a few times.

The idiom used here is 暴跳如雷, and the literal translation is “to jump up violently like thunder”. This idiom refers to one being extremely agitated to the point of throwing a tantrum due to great anger.

The character for Shi Wenjue’s surname Shi is 施, which can also mean “to give” or “to execute”. In this context, the meaning used is the former. It’s also kind of wordplay because Shi Wenjue’s surname means “to give” so one can just use it as a verb if needed.

The chess board is actually a weiqi board, aka an ancient chinese version of chess that is still played today.

一兩銀子, which I translated as a unit of silver. In modern terms 一兩 refers to 50 grams, while in ancient times 16 units of silver was around 500 grams. For the sake of simplicity I’m translating 一兩 as one unit.

In case it’s not clear, the man in black robes is Di Feisheng.

[merwgue]

Azriel & Rhysand: The Self-Hating Illyrians? Let’s Talk About That…

Alright, so let's dive into something that’s been bugging me for a while: the way Azriel and Rhysand talk about Illyrians—and how it mirrors their own insecurities and self-hatred toward their own race. Now, I know we all love our brooding shadowsinger and we tolerate (thats the nicest thing i can say okay???) Rhysand, but let’s call a spade a spade. These guys are racist to themselves, and it shows in how they talk about, treat, and rule Illyria.

First off, Azriel. The man has been through some serious trauma—no one is denying that. The abuse he faced as a child at the hands of his Illyrian family was horrific. But because of that, he carries this internalized hatred towards his own people. He sees Illyrians as “brutes,” and that’s not just a throwaway comment. It’s an insight into how he views himself as an Illyrian. He’s distanced himself from his race because it’s too painful for him to reconcile with what they represent to him—his own past, his pain, his trauma. Instead of embracing his heritage and trying to heal from it, he’s rejected it entirely, which is… problematic, to say the least.

Now, let’s talk about Rhysand. Yes, he’s half Illyrian, and yet, what does he do? He rules over Illyria like a colonizer. He’s constantly talking about how brutal and savage the Illyrians are, how they need to be “controlled” and “disciplined.” Sound familiar? Rhysand’s actions in Illyria are more about projecting his own insecurities about being half Illyrian than about actually ruling fairly. He’s ashamed of his heritage and so, instead of working with the Illyrians to improve things, he enforces harsh rule, stifling them instead of helping them grow.

What’s worse is that they both act like they’re doing Illyria a favor by stepping in and being these benevolent rulers. But honestly, what they’re doing is just mirroring their internalized racism. They can’t accept their own Illyrian roots, so they enforce those insecurities onto the people. Rhysand and Azriel might think they’re “better” because they’ve moved beyond the more traditional Illyrian ways, but really, they’re just turning their backs on their own heritage. And that’s not empowerment—that’s self-hatred.

Now, let’s touch on the Elriel shippers. First of all, ship whoever you want—I’m not here to police your ships. But what I am here to say is this: erasing Azriel’s Illyrian identity to fit into a certain romantic narrative is just wrong. Part of what makes Azriel, Azriel, is his struggle with his own identity. It’s his journey of trying to reconcile the trauma of his past with the culture he comes from. There’s depth there, and it’s a storyline that needs resolution, not erasure.

Some Elriel shippers think that in his potential book (if SJM ever gives it to them), Azriel should fully distance himself from Illyria, take off his tattoos, and basically reinvent himself into a whole new character. Excuse me, but what? That’s not character growth, that’s character erasure. The Illyrian tattoos are a symbol of his heritage, his connection to his people. Sure, he has a lot of complicated feelings about Illyria because of his past, but that doesn’t mean the answer is to remove all traces of it from his life.

You can’t just “remove” your culture. It’s something you’re born into, something that shapes you, whether you like it or not. It’s tied to your ancestors, your lineage. For Azriel to fully come to terms with who he is, he has to accept that, yes, he’s Illyrian. He can’t get over that by erasing it—he has to embrace it, faults and all, and move forward. That’s what real growth would look like.

By pushing for Azriel to cut ties with Illyria entirely, some of these shippers are promoting a racist narrative, whether they realize it or not. It’s saying that Azriel can only be worthy of love or redemption if he fully removes himself from the culture that raised him. And that’s just wrong. His identity crisis is not something that should be “fixed” by wiping the slate clean. It should be something he works through, learns from, and ultimately accepts as part of himself.

In fact, if we want real character development, Azriel’s arc should focus on him embracing his Illyrian heritage, understanding that while there are negative aspects of his past, that doesn’t define all of Illyria or his future. His story shouldn’t end with him running away from his culture, but with him reclaiming it on his own terms. The Illyrian culture, with all its flaws, is still his culture, and rejecting it completely would mean rejecting a core part of who he is. Instead of distancing himself further, Azriel needs to find a way to reconcile with the Illyrian identity, maybe even becoming a figure of change within his own race. Rather than mirroring the oppressive behavior of Rhysand, who seeks to control and stifle the Illyrians, Azriel could be the bridge that finally helps Illyria evolve into something better—something that preserves the strength of its people while discarding the more harmful traditions.

Imagine an arc where Azriel not only accepts his heritage but becomes a leader for Illyrian reform, where he champions education, equality, and opportunity for both the males and the females of his race. That would be growth. That would be healing. And let’s be honest, Azriel’s character needs that kind of closure after all the trauma he’s been through. But it has to come from a place of embracing who he is, not trying to erase it.

Now, coming back to Rhysand for a second—his treatment of Illyria is a whole other can of worms. It’s easy to label him as a progressive leader because of how he treats some of his people (read: his Inner Circle), but his actions toward the Illyrians tell a different story. Rhysand rules Illyria through fear and force, much like the High Lords he claims to be better than. He keeps the Illyrians in line with brute power, allowing their wings to be clipped, their women to be oppressed, and their men to be locked into a cycle of violent traditions. And let’s not forget, he’s never really done anything to truly help the Illyrians rise above their current state. Instead, he’s more focused on maintaining control over them, making sure they don’t challenge his authority.

Rhysand’s rule in Illyria is a dictatorship, no matter how you spin it. He pretends to be “freeing” people, but what he’s actually doing is ensuring they stay under his thumb. And Azriel, who has internalized so much hatred for his own race, is complicit in this. He doesn’t push for change or reform because he’s too caught up in his own disdain for his heritage. In a way, Rhysand and Azriel’s attitudes toward Illyria are two sides of the same coin. Rhysand rules it with an iron fist, and Azriel, with his internalized racism, sees that as justified.

Let’s also not forget the dynamic between Rhysand and Azriel within the Inner Circle itself. The Night Court, while seemingly “progressive,” is built on a hierarchy that’s not so different from the oppression they claim to fight. Rhysand keeps a tight leash on his friends, and Azriel, with all his inner conflict and loyalty, falls in line. His insecurities about his heritage make him more susceptible to Rhysand’s control because, in a way, Azriel believes he’s lesser. He believes he’s damaged because of his past, and that allows Rhysand to subtly manipulate him, never pushing him to embrace his Illyrian roots, because that would threaten the order Rhysand has established.

Which brings us back to the issue with the fandom. There are fans out there who, for some reason, want Azriel to completely erase his Illyrian identity, thinking it’s part of his “growth.” But how is denying where you come from, and what shaped you, growth?

The idea that Azriel could just “remove” the Illyrian part of himself and somehow become a better character is incredibly damaging. It promotes the idea that you can (and should) sever ties with your roots if they’re painful or complicated. But that’s not how real people heal, and it’s not how characters should evolve either. If anything, Azriel should be diving deeper into his Illyrian heritage, understanding that while there’s darkness there, there’s also strength and resilience—and that’s something to be proud of, not ashamed of.

In the end, what Azriel needs isn’t to “get over” being Illyrian. He needs to accept it, embrace it, and find a way to redefine what it means to him. And Rhysand, for all his posturing as a forward-thinking High Lord, needs to stop ruling Illyria with fear and suppression, and instead, actually help his people rise up. Otherwise, they’re both just perpetuating a cycle of self-hatred and control that benefits no one, least of all themselves.

Ty @shadowqueenjude for the idea pookster

[hoesluvjude]

In Your Arms

Word count:1k

Genre:fluff

Summary:Y/n comforting jude because his injured

Author's note:I know he is not injured anymore but I wrote a long time ago 😭I just didn't post it

Masterlist

Jude sat on the edge of the couch, his lower right leg propped up on a stack of pillows, a heavy bandage wrapped tightly around his calf. The pain was dull now, more of a persistent ache than the sharp stab he had felt during training earlier that day, but it still throbbed with every small movement. He stared at his leg in frustration, a deep sigh escaping him as the reality of his injury began to sink in.

He hated this. He hated the feeling of being sidelined, of watching his teammates carry on without him. Football was everything to him—it was his passion, his career, his life. And now, because of one wrong step, he was stuck here on the couch, unable to move without a limp, unable to train, and worst of all, unsure of how long it would take to heal.

his jaw clenched in frustration. He had been pushing himself hard in training, maybe too hard. He knew that. But he always gave everything, always pushed himself to the limit. It was just his nature. And now, he was paying the price for it.

The sound of soft footsteps pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Y/n entering the living room, her face full of concern as she approached him. She had been in the kitchen, making tea, but he could tell by the way she was looking at him that she had been worried ever since he came home from training.

“How are you feeling?” she asked softly, setting the cup of tea on the table beside him before sitting down next to him on the couch. Her hand reached for his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Jude exhaled slowly, trying to shake off his frustration. “I’m fine,” he muttered, though the tension in his voice made it clear he was anything but. “It’s just... annoying.”

Y/n’s eyes softened as she shifted closer to him, her fingers tracing gentle circles on the back of his hand. “I know it’s frustrating, but you’re going to heal. It’s just going to take some time.”

Jude knew she was right, but the words didn’t do much to ease the irritation gnawing at him. He wasn’t used to being helpless, to sitting around doing nothing while everyone else kept moving forward. Football had always been his escape, his outlet. And now, without it, he felt like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

He glanced over at Y/n, her comforting presence helping to ground him. She was always there for him, always knew what to say, even when he was in the worst of moods. And right now, more than anything, he just wanted her close.

Without thinking, Jude reached out and pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her neck. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the familiar scent of her skin, letting it calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

Y/n seemed a little surprised at first by how clingy he was being—he wasn’t usually this physically needy—but she didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around him in return, holding him just as tightly. She shifted on the couch so that she was sitting right beside him, letting him rest his head on her shoulder as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” Jude mumbled against her neck, his voice muffled by the way he was pressed against her. “I’m being grumpy.”

Y/n chuckled softly, her fingers never stopping their gentle movement through his hair. “You’re not grumpy. You’re hurt, and you’re allowed to feel frustrated. But you don’t have to apologize for it.”

He sighed again, his body sinking deeper into her embrace. Her words were kind, as they always were, but it didn’t take away the gnawing irritation that came with being injured. Still, having her close helped. It always did.

For a long while, neither of them said anything. Jude just held her, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, his head resting on her chest as he listened to the steady rhythm of her breathing. Her presence was like a balm to his restless mind, soothing the frustration that had been building inside him since the injury.

Y/n ran her fingers along his back in slow, comforting strokes, her voice soft when she finally spoke. “You know,” she murmured, “you don’t always have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to be upset.”

Jude closed his eyes, her words sinking in. She knew him better than anyone. She knew that he had a tendency to bottle things up, to try and push through without acknowledging how he was really feeling. And she was right. He didn’t always have to be the strong one. Not with her.

“I just hate this,” he admitted quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I hate not being able to do anything. I hate sitting here, feeling useless.”

“You’re not useless,” Y/n said firmly, pulling back slightly so she could look at him. Her hand cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing lightly against his skin. “You’re hurt, Jude. That doesn’t make you useless. It just means you need time to heal.”

Jude met her gaze, the sincerity in her eyes making it hard to argue. He knew she was right, but it was hard to let go of the frustration that had been building inside him since the injury. Football was more than just a job to him—it was his identity, his purpose. And being forced to step back from it, even temporarily, made him feel like he was losing a part of himself.

But as he looked at Y/n, her eyes filled with nothing but love and understanding, he realized that maybe it was okay to lean on her, to let her be strong for him this time. He didn’t always have to carry everything on his own.

“I just want to hold you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Can we just... stay like this for a while?”

Y/n’s expression softened, and she nodded, her fingers gently brushing through his hair once more. “Of course,” she murmured. “We can stay like this as long as you want.”

Jude tightened his arms around her, pulling her even closer. He buried his face in her shoulder, the warmth of her body against his soothing the ache in his leg and the tension in his chest. For the first time since the injury, he felt like he could breathe a little easier.

The room was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the evening outside and the steady beat of Y/n’s heart beneath his ear. Jude closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in the comfort of her embrace. The world outside, with all its noise and pressure, faded away, and all that mattered in this moment was the feeling of her arms around him.

It wasn’t often that Jude let himself be vulnerable like this, but with Y/n, it felt safe. She had seen him at his highest and his lowest, and she loved him all the same. And right now, when he felt frustrated and out of control, her presence was the only thing that brought him any sense of peace.

“I love you,” he mumbled against her skin, the words coming out softer than he had intended, but full of sincerity. He didn’t say it as often as he probably should, but in moments like this, he needed her to know.

Y/n’s arms tightened around him, her lips brushing lightly against his forehead. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice filled with warmth. “And I’m here. Always.”

Jude let out a slow breath, the weight on his chest lifting just a little bit more. He didn’t know how long it would take for his leg to heal, or when he’d be able to get back to the pitch, but he knew one thing for sure—no matter what, Y/N would be by his side.

And in this moment, that was enough.

As the minutes stretched into hours, they stayed like that—Jude wrapped around Y/n,her comforting presence easing the frustration that had been gnawing at him. For now, he allowed himself to be vulnerable, to let her take care of him, to hold onto her as if she was the only thing keeping him grounded.

And in a way, she was.

[cinnamongorll]

Wildflower - chapter 3

read on ao3 🤍 previous chapter 🤍 masterlist 🤍

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC Synopsis: Joel Miller is an infuriating constant in Alex’s life. As her dad’s best friend and smuggling partner, she can’t seem to avoid him no matter how hard she tries.  When a weapons trade off goes wrong and Alex becomes the next target in a dangerous revenge vendetta, Joel is forced to uphold the promise he made to his friend to protect his daughter from the dangers of the post-apocalyptic world. But when Alex and Joel reluctantly grow closer, and she starts to peel back the layers of animosity between them, Alex realises that nothing is what it seems and that trusting Joel might be more dangerous than anything outside the QZ walls. Series tags: dbf!Joel, age gap (Joel is late 49, FMC is 26), older man/younger woman, slow burn, enemies to lovers, mean Joel, protective Joel, dark Joel, sexual tension, smut, mutual pining, feral Joel, first person pov, angst, more tags to be added, ultraviolence Joel. Chapter warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence. Word count: 3k

_________________________________

Chapter 3:

“No you don’t” 

Joel’s voice is a hand reaching through the inky blackness, wrapping itself around my consciousness, then tugging hard. 

I’m wrenched back into the kitchen, denied the sweet relief of the nothingness behind my eyelids. 

It’s dark. Joel’s head is haloed slightly by the fragile ribbons of light that poke through the window blinds. His eyes are wide, panic sparking around his pupils as his hands grip my shoulders and pull me up into a seated position.

My fingers are trembling as they drag themselves down my face, collecting the sticky clumps that coat my skin. I don’t dare turn my head towards the source of the gore.

“You think this is about some stolen weapons?” 

The man’s words, growled into my ear before the inside of his head splattered across my face, echo through me. 

Joel pushes himself off the floor until he’s towering over me, looking down at my red stained skin with a trace of disgust flashing in his eyes. 

A breath huffs out of me, deflating my chest, before I inhale deeply. I can’t seem to slow my heartbeat. Blood is pumping through me at an erratic pace, electrifying my entire body with the reminder of how close I was to dying. 

If I had moved my head even slightly when Joel pulled the trigger, my skull would be the one leaking its contents on the kitchen floor. 

Maybe that was Joel’s intention. Save him the burden of having to look after his friend’s incapable daughter…

“You could have killed me,” I grind out as I grip the table leg to pull myself to my feet. 

Joel is there, curling his fingers around the collar of my jacket, tugging me upwards.

I shrug off his touch when I’m finally standing and I stagger back a few steps, careful not to step in the horror at my feet.

Joel is watching me with those dark eyes, following my every movement with the intensity of a hunter. I allow my gaze to stray from his face and slide down his body, noting the way his breaths match the pace of my own, and the hand that hangs by his side with fingers that twitch to a familiar rhythm. 

“I saved your life,” Joel replies, his voice clipped. Then he turns away from me with a shake of his head. “That shot was loud. We gotta go.”

He steps to the side and I gain a clear view of the couch across the room, and the body that’s slumped in the cushions with a dark splash seeping into the fabric. 

“Theo,” I whisper as my legs begin to move, timidly approaching the body of my friend. 

Guilt and shock at my chest with equal measure, my limbs feel like they’re been weighed down. I have to stop myself from sinking to the floor. 

I did this. This is my fault. He’s dead because of me. 

“Alex, we gotta move, now,” Joel commands. 

His voice is another bullet exploding next to my ear. My hands curl into fists.

I look at Theo. His head is thrown back, his skin painted with a deep red. My chest begins to carve out a deeper hole to house another addition to my grief. 

Joel slams his hand off the doorframe. My head whips towards him. 

He’s standing there, his hand gripping the edge of the door, staring at me, annoyance dripping from him like blood. 

I turn back to Theo and I feel my grief begin to crack, allowing my anger to bleed out. 

No, this isn’t my fault. I didn’t cause this. I didn’t cause any of this. 

“You think this is about some stolen weapons?” 

“You did this,” I say quietly, under my breath, allowing the words to taste the air. Then louder: “You did this,” as I whirl towards Joel.

I can feel my lip quivering as my steps pound against the floor, marching towards my dad’s best friend, the man he trusted with his life. The man who hasn’t shed a tear since he lost it. 

The door is wide open, the locks are busted. Thick cracks line the wood, splintering the ancient paint.

Joel’s hand is still curled around the doorframe. I can see his muscles tighten with every step I take towards him. His spine straightens too, like he’s being approached by a threat. I like the thought that he might be afraid of me, even for the shortest of moments. 

Surprising even myself, my palms meet Joel’s chest with a thump as I slam into him. 

“This is your fault,” I sneer. “All of this.” 

My teeth are bared, my cheeks are wet. My hair is stuck to the gore that coats my skin. I’m a rabid beast as I increase the pressure pouring from my hands, and I push again. 

This time, Joel is ready. His chest doesn’t move a single inch. He is the trunk of the oldest tree, standing his ground. 

Then his hands move, gripping my arms as his fingers dig into my flesh as I struggle against him. 

“Stop,” he demands before hissing as I land a kick against his shin. 

“He was your friend and you - and you don’t even care,” I sneer.

Joel’s lips curl as his grip on my arms increases and he tugs me towards him. My chest slams against his and I gasp, betraying myself. The shock of the close proximity drains the fight from me. I’m frozen with only my beating heart showing a sign of life.

My chin is tilted upwards as Joel turns his attention to my face. His lips are curled in a snarl and his eyes burn with pure hatred. 

“I care enough not to let his daughter get killed,” he practically growls. “But you’re makin’ that job real difficult.”  

“I don’t want your help,” I whisper, my voice cracking. The adrenaline once storming through my body has faded to a gentle trickle. 

A muscle jumps in Joel’s jaw. 

“It’s not up to you,” he snaps. 

I flinch, unable to stop my body’s traitorous response. 

Joel sighs, heavily. I feel his hot breath scald my skin. 

He turns his head into the hallway and his rough hands tense against my arms. Goosebumps trace my skin as I watch the lines on his forehead deepen. 

His eyes are on me again. Black pupils flash with a fearsome combination of rage and panic. 

When Joel speaks, his lips are touching the shell of my ear and my chest is pressed against his. 

“Enforcers are downstairs. You’re gonna do exactly what I say or we’re both dead. Do you understand?” 

His words are a sharp knife against my throat, forcing me to linger, breathless, in the state between probable survival and imminent death.

I don’t even realise I’m nodding, my forehead pressed against the space between his shoulder and neck, until Joel pulls away from me and his eyes flash up and down my body.

“Where’s your gun?” he asks in a rushed whisper.

My stomach drops to the floor. I can see it lying next to the pool of blood and brain matter without even needing to turn around. 

I shake my head quickly. There’s no time to turn back and get it, I can see Joel running the calculations in his mind and coming up short.

A deep, unshakeable hatred ripples across the fine lines of his face and he grinds his jaw. I jump when he tightens his hold on my arm and drags me into the hallway.

Before I can even comprehend what he’s doing, Joel moves an arm over my shoulder and tucks my head into his chest. His mouth dips to my ear.

“Keep movin’. Stay quiet. Don’t look up,” Joel commands as he starts moving, forcing my legs to catch up with his long strides. My nose is pressed against his canvas jacket, breathing in the musk of smoke, sweat and gunpowder that’s ingrained in the fabric.

We’re stumbling down the stairs. My whole body is shaking with each step. My head hits off of the buttons on Joel’s jacket. I try to pry myself from his shoulder but a large, rough hand keeps pressing my face back into the material. 

My mind is racing: Enforcers are here, how’s he going to get us out of the building? Why can’t I look up? Why am I even listening to him? Why - 

A raw shout cuts off my inner ramble and my brain shuts off, there’s only the sight and sound of static as Joel’s body lurches forward, taking me with him.

I hear a squelching blow and an agonising yell and something large and heavy drops down next to my legs. 

My mouth is open in a silent gasp but my sight is still blocked by Joel’s hand that has never released its hold. 

My breaths are coming out sharp and quick. I can feel myself start to hyperventilate with the lack of breathing space and the chaos around me. I’m struggling now, pushing against Joel’s chest.

Still, I’m unable to move.

I’d underestimated how strong Joel was and a quick pulse of fear finds my heart as my brain comes to terms with the fact that I’ve put my life in this man’s hands. 

He kills again. This time with a gun. 

My throat releases a muffled yell as the shot rings in my ears and I feel the force of it ripple down Joel’s arms.

I bite my tongue to stop another scream from emerging. Fear weakens my legs and without Joel’s arm holding me up, I’m sure I would have crumpled to the ground by now. 

That gunshot was loud. We’re on the run now. He was serious about leaving the QZ.

Joel kills a third time. 

With a little struggle in this round, I’m thrown out of Joel’s embrace. I land on the hard concrete with a burning pain in my forearms. My eyes blink open into the wide, lifeless stare of Joel’s first victim. There’s a line of red leaking from the corner of his lip, revealing the internal bleeding as the result of Joel’s quick knife. 

Unlike the first time I landed next to a body, I scream.

“Alex!”

My scream dies and I wrench my eyes away from the dead enforcer, towards Joel as his gaze locks with mine. 

His expression is wide open, with his armour in a silver pile on the ground, allowing me to witness the piercing concern that is sent my way.

For the shortest of moments, we’re locked in a standstill. It’s a scene from a western my dad once showed me. 

In that sun drenched desert, beside our horses, we drop our guns and see each other for the first time. 

I realise, in that short moment, that I’m looking towards Joel for protection, and he looks towards me with the intention to protect. 

Yet, as the milliseconds tick by, the wind changes, and the sun is clouded by a blast of dust and, back in the real world, a fist aims toward that wide open expression I had found myself lost in.

“Joel!” I scream, torn from cowboys and horses back into a dark stairwell with our lives hanging by a thread. 

Joel turns just in time and catches the first, twisting the man’s arm until his mouth opens in a silent, agony stretched yell. 

My head whips away when Joel’s knife strikes his skull and I hear another weight drop to the floor. 

There’s a clicking noise that pollutes my ears. I cover my hands over them, pressing harder and harder until I realise that my body is trembling so hard that my teeth have begun to chatter. 

Hands grip my shoulders and flip me around. 

I cry out, kicking and scratching until my eyes meet Joel’s pitch gaze as bends over me with a wild, bloodthirsty look on his face. 

For the second time today, I’m lying on the floor, being held by Joel as a body grows cold beside me.

This time, the shock and horror leaves my head and enters my stomach. 

Nausea strikes a fierce and brutal blow and my eyes widen as I turn to the side and vomit into the pile of blood. 

I hear Joel swearing between my retching. I know he’s cursing me for wasting time. 

When I’m finished, I turn back to Joel with my cheeks sporting red spots of mortification. I’m breathing heavily as his eyes scan my face with the bite of a scalpel. 

He turns and looks around them, his eyes flicking between the men he’d killed. I watch his stare without blinking and that fear that pulsed through me earlier fires again when I realise that there isn’t a hint of remorse shining back. 

Joel’s focus returns to me and he runs a hand down his face.

“Told ya not to look,” he grumbles before reaching that same hand out to help me up.

I let him pull me off the blood and vomit soaked concrete floor. This time, I listen to Joel’s advice and I keep my eyes on him.

In the stairwell, the light is dim and I can feel the walls start to move closer, pressing against me, stealing my air, crushing my lungs.

I inhale sharply and Joel’s eyebrows furrow. 

A feeling of finality wraps around my throat, adding to the grief that’s lodged down my throat and the fear and trembles my lips.

Everywhere we go, we leave bodies in our wake.

I can never go back up those stairs, back into my apartment. 

I can never go back to my stall at the market. 

My life in the QZ has ended. I’m being hunted now, we’re being hunted now, for some reason that I don’t understand. 

Joel will get us out of here, he has to get us out of here, and then my new life will begin. 

I have to trust him. Even if every bone in my body rages against the decision… it’s the only way I’m going to survive.

If I don’t, then I’ll just end up as another body on the floor or strung up in the gallows, with my life struck out of me, forgotten and decomposing with the rest of this rotted world.

______________________________

Hi!!! Sorry this chapter is so short - I had a longer one planned but, after taking a break from this fic, I just wanted to write a shorter one to get back into the story :)

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up Anniversary challenge.

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Prompt: Anniversary | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Future Fic, Eddie Munson Lives, Or Did He?, He Definitely Did Right?, A Glitch in the Matrix, Shifted Timelines, Parallel Universes, Sliding Doors

"What are you doing?" Eddie asks sleepily. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the familiar shape of Steve crossing along the foot of bed, heading towards the window. 

That isn't unusual. If Steve hears a siren, or a dog barking, anything, he crawls out of bed and heads to the window to look. But tonight, Eddie hadn't heard anything. 

"Huh?" Steve responds, from bed, next to Eddie.

Eddie looks again, expecting to see Steve bent over at the waist, looking out the window, but there's nothing there. Instead, Steve's in bed, and has clearly been asleep.

Eddie swallows. Maybe he was dreaming, "Sorry. I think I was dreaming," he says, hoping he can convince himself of that. He looks at the alarm clock on the nightstand, and it's just after three.

Steve chuckles, voice rough with sleep, and pulls the comforter up over his shoulder.

Eddie thinks, weird. 

But then it continues happening. 

All day, he's felt like there's someone just out of his line of sight, and that person seems a whole lot like Steve. Eddie isn't scared, per se. He's unnerved, for sure, but it feels like Steve. Not a ghost or a demon, or anything sinister. 

It's just like a second version of Steve is moving around the house, dancing along his peripheral vision, and Eddie is forced to only observe. 

It's not until later that he realizes the date: March 27th, 2006. 

It's the anniversary of his near death in the Upside Down. That can't be a coincidence. That's the day he was sure he was dying, if not already dead, and then he suddenly wasn't. The bites weren't that bad. All superficial. He barely even needed any medical attention at all.

Dustin had overreacted.

And, yeah, it felt hazy at first, but they all just blamed it on the stress and adrenaline he'd been pumped full of. Blamed it on the near death experience that wasn't actually that near death at all.

And now, he's seeing an echo, a ghost, of someone very much alive. 

There's a glitch in the matrix. 

Like when you see two people, strangers, on public transportation wearing the exact same shirt, sitting one row in front of the other. Only, Eddie's seeing Steve. A different version of Steve.

Eddie does a deep dive on the internet. Decides it's not a glitch in the matrix at all. Instead, he's pretty damn sure he's shifted timelines from the one where he died, to this new one where he didn't, and now they're bleeding together. All these years later.

Steve listens, patiently, and then kisses him on the top of the head, "Honey, I was there. You lived. I promise. 'Twas barely a scratch."

Eddie nods. 

Of course. Of course that's true. 

But he thinks maybe the other outcome was true, too.

Shadow Steve is getting more vibrant, and now Eddie can follow him around the house. Not really able to look at him straight on, but if he keeps the corner of his eye trained in his direction, he can see him for longer stretches.

He's the same, but different. 

Quieter, sadder. More alone. 

And there's no Eddie there. Eddie is 100% sure of that. 

He's gotta do something about this.

Eddie's sitting outside of Nancy's office when she comes out of the door.

"Eddie!" she says, surprised, but happy to see him. He's about to rain all over her parade.

"I'm dead. I'm in the wrong timeline," he says, and her face falls. She reaches out, and puts her hand on his forearm.

"C'mon," she says, and he gets in her car, and looks down at his hands.

"What's going on?" she finally asks.

"I'm seeing Steve, in the house," he explains, and she raises an eyebrow, and he laughs, "Not that Steve. Not my Steve. But he's there, too. He's good," he promises. Because he knows she'll worry.

"Start from the beginning," she urges, and he does. Telling her everything.

"It's just a glitch in the matrix," she assesses, and he shakes his head.

"It's not. It's too frequent. It wasn't a one and done deal. It wasn't a trick of the light, or a shadow. He's there. Just outta my sight. Like he's in a parallel universe."

"And you're sure it's Steve? Not something Upside Down-related?"

"It's Steve. I'm not scared of him. Because it's Steve."

Nancy follows him all the way back to Hawkins, then sits on the bed beside him. 

"Eddie," she says, and he shushes her. Taking her cheeks, forcing her to look in the direction he wants. It doesn't take long.

"There!" Eddie says, and Nancy gasps. 

Fuck. He was kinda hoping he was just losing his mind.

"You can see him?" he asks.

"I can see him. Barely. Out of the corner of my eye. It's definitely Steve."

Eddie sighs, "Told you. What the fuck do I do now?"

Steve can't see him. Eddie can. Nancy can. Robin can. Dustin can.

But, Steve? He just can't.

Nancy thinks it's because it is Steve. The same Steve. Just minding his own business in another timeline, that's now somehow bleeding into theirs. 

"Do you think this is lingering weirdness from the Upside Down?" Eddie asks.

"If it is, we should get El," Dustin suggests, and they all agree.

El takes one look at him, "That is Steve."

"Yes, we're aware," Eddie says, "how do we merge the two?"

"You cannot."

"Can we at least close the damn curtains?" Eddie doesn't want to keep seeing this Steve.

El thinks about that, "Maybe."

She forces Steve to hold her hands, and while reluctant, he's willing. For Eddie.

It's quiet, then Steve says, "Oh, whoa. That's me." Then, "Tingly."

And Shadow Steve fades away. Disappearing, like he'd never been there.

"Is he okay?" Eddie asks. He doesn't want any version of Steve to disappear. 

"Yes. Now you cannot see him. Not gone, just invisible again."

"Out of sight, out of mind?" Eddie asks. 

She nods, "Exactly."

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