#if your first thought was to wonder if it was: it wasn't

[blood-smiles]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 ! 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃 (??)

❝ DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! ♡ This is yandere content, suggestive content ahead, you have been warned ! ♡ ❞

࣪ ִֶָ☾. What to do? You had to go back to schooling, even as much as you hated it.. You needed that god for saken diploma.

ִֶָ☾. This is how you ended up alone on your first day, you had hoped that a brave soul at campus would approach you. Like one of those super popular nice people approaching you and then boom! You became the next sensation at your college!

ִֶָ☾. You would be delusional if you thought a silly thing like that would happen.

ִֶָ☾. You wandered around campus aimlessly, in look for a new friend. You searched the crowd, looking for anyone as lonely as you were.

ִֶָ☾. Your eyes met a males' own sparkling indigo hues. Bingo.

ִֶָ☾. He returned your stare, his ears and face glowing in a subtle tone of red. You reminded yourself: Some people get nervous about eye contact! Yeah.. haha.. Totally!

ִֶָ☾. You smiled at him, asking nicely if you could have a seat at the table where he was, to which he eagerly nodded, scooting away the stacks and stacks of books he had.

ִֶָ☾. Math? Dude, really? So he's a mathematics major..? He chuckled nervously as he adjusted his thick rimmed glasses, noticing your eyes on the number filled textbooks.

"I'm Elio.. Is it your first day here?" The soft sound of his voice snapped you out of trying to decipher whatever hieroglyphics were printed on the paper.

ִֶָ☾. He lit up in happiness when you spoke your name. Okay.. Unique reaction to a normal piece of information.

ִֶָ☾. You took a closer look at his face, it seemed refined, like a dude who hit the books for fun. But you couldn't help but let your gaze drift to the piercing holes in his ears, no jewelry present but so so many piercings..

ִֶָ☾. His almost black hair gleamed in the light, an unmistakable dark blue undertone present in the silky strands. The bottom portion of his hair around his neck dyed a very light sky blue.

ִֶָ☾. These were small, extremely minimal details you wouldn't have picked up if it wasn't for your super duper brave choice of coming up to him and sitting down with him.

”Who is that talking to that prick over there..? By now he would have dumped soup on anyone..”

“I know, always so hostile for no reason! I wonder who pissed in his coffee..”

ִֶָ☾. Your ears pricked at the comments from the other table not too far away from you, Elio seemed nice though..? He didn’t toss food on you or even seem annoyed.

ִֶָ☾. He had noticed too, glaring out of the corner of his eyes, pitch black eyes narrowing in a malicious stare.

ִֶָ☾. These nobodies were soiling his chances with you already.. Not even an hour in and they were already gossiping and honking like a gaggle of geese.

ִֶָ☾. You cast your attention upon him again, taken aback by the soulless stare he directed at the small group of people next to you.

ִֶָ☾. Whoops. He hoped you didn’t see him like that for too long. He smiled nervously, his more timid persona coming back just like before.

“Your lesson is starting soon, I have a free period! I’ll go with you!” He sprung up from his seat, wrapping his arm around your own.

ִֶָ☾. You had so many questions. 

ִֶָ☾. How did he know that? And why was he getting so touchy already? You had barely been with him for an hour, yet he acted like he knew you since childhood..

ִֶָ☾. As the both of you passed by the shit-talking table, Elio ever so slightly turned his head, his arms hugging your bicep closer to his chest as he shot them the dirtiest look he could muster.

“Cmon, silly. We don’t want to be late.” Elio giggled as he dragged you away.

ִֶָ☾. Elio wasn’t normal, you had noticed. He wasn’t a bad guy, he just was quite… unique in his mannerisms. Quite the specimen!

Okay he is nerdy.. but why he kinda..

ִֶָ☾. Your suspicion of him not being what he appeared as at first was correct however. He really had more than what met the eye, you would have been a fool if you only thought that the ugly red and black flannel shirt he wore was all there was to him.

ִֶָ☾. You had stumbled upon him one day, lukewarm coffee in hand, some rushing scholar ran past you, like a cartoon character leaving fire tracks while speeding. They bumped harshly into your shoulder, knocking off your balance and uncapping your coffee, spilling all over your friend..

ִֶָ☾. You panicked, grabbing tissues in your hand and helping in patting down the ugly flannel in hopes of soaking up the drying coffee, you missed the way he gasped softly in surprise and a little of excitement. If you could touch him like that again he would’ve let himself get soaked time and time again.

ִֶָ☾. He flushed at the nimbe touch of your hand on his body, you mistook the embarrassment on his face for irritation and shrunk back in fear of the so called “mean” attitude many students muttered about.

ִֶָ☾. You had witnessed it, once you were running late and noticed a girl walking towards him, shifting her weight from one foot to another as she opened her mouth to talk.

ִֶָ☾. “ Don’t you understand? I don’t fucking care, I already have a lover. Stop looking at me like a kicked puppy, or are you deaf too? Well? Scram.” He rudely interrupted her speech, irritation radiating from him. And jeez. Was he scary, a dark shadow cast over his face, giving him even more of a menacing look. This was him? Was he really like this when you weren’t around? 

ִֶָ☾. The girl gasped, shoulders tensing as she began to cry while running away, head buried between hands. You stared at her as she dashed past you, mascara dripping down her blushed cheeks. Elio waved at you, as if nothing had happened.

ִֶָ☾. You grimaced at the memory and how horrible it would feel if you were in that girls’ shoes. Being publicly humiliated is one of the worst kinds of humiliation.

ִֶָ☾. You apologized a million times, he shook his head, offering a pretty smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Was he laughing at you..? He let out a little happy sigh, peeling the coffee drenched shirt from his torso.

ִֶָ☾. “Don’t worry, it’s alright. I have an extra shirt in my bag just in case.” He waved his hand dismissively, it’s no biggie for him. He almost thanked you for touching him, he might have gotten a nosebleed but by some unknown miracle he didn’t start bleeding on you.

ִֶָ☾. He dragged you into a classroom, unbuttoning his long sleeve and slowly slipping it off his shoulders. You were trying to NOT look but gods. Lord. Was it hard.

ִֶָ☾. It was like he was teasing you, wanting you to look and give into your perverted ways.

ִֶָ☾. You couldn’t stop yourself as you peeked at him, his back wasn’t turned as he focused on folding the dirtied shirt, but that didn’t stop you from looking.

ִֶָ☾. He had so many piercings. How? How would anyone guess he was so.. yum.

ִֶָ☾. His body was a perfect mix of slim and just the slightest bit of muscle, the dark metal balls surfacing from his skin and gleaming in the dim lighting.

ִֶָ☾. His soft chest rose and fell gently, his nipples decorated by dangling circular metal jewelry. His smooth navel adorned with another piece of black metal. the taut skin of his hips pierced with three little beads on each hip.

ִֶָ☾. Okay! Enough staring. Don’t look, don’t look, don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook!

ִֶָ☾. “(Y/N)? Can you pass me the shirt?” Right. Right! The black band t-shirt in your hands, you nodded wordlessly, fumbling with the fabric and gently passing it to him.

ִֶָ☾. “What’s wrong? You aren’t looking me in the eye.” He asked you, his voice holding an edge of teasing. You could hear the smile in his voice.

ִֶָ☾. He knew why.

“We..Well, I didn’t know you were the type of guy to have so many piercings..” you answered only one of his questions, you couldn’t let him know that now you perhaps had a puppy crush on him.

“Awh.. You’re so cute.. Never did I think I would be able to fluster you in such a way..” he cooed out of nowhere, moving to get closer to you.

“You can touch too you know..” Elio shyly added, grabbing you by the wrists and gently placing them over his waist.

“If it’s you, then I don’t mind at all. ♡”

[bloomries]

Hey hey! I hope you’re doing well! I absolutely ADORE your “calling them husband” thing, it’s SO cute! Would you be up to doing similar for the other dateables? (So like… Dia, Barb, Simeon, and Solomon?) if not that’s totally chill too, but figured I’d ask! Either way, have a wonderful weekend!

me and my husband~

includes : diavolo, barbatos, simeon, and solomon.

summary : calling him your "husband" (even though you two aren't married yet) to see his reaction.

warnings : gn! reader. mention of marriage.

part 1

DIAVOLO

You knew you had to be cautious, say it at the wrong time and Barbatos would certainly be pissed- which was something you wanted to avoid more than anything. So, in the early hours, as you helped Diavolo get ready for the day, you couldn't help but tease. "What am I to do alone without my husband?"

At first it's eerily quiet, and you're nervous to glance up to see Diavolo's reaction, his fingers- which rested on your waist- twitch as his grips tightens a bit. "I- I was just prankin-"

He leaned in close, his lips by your ears. "Is that what you want?" His voice was low and smooth. "Should I finally bestow such a title upon you, hm? I've certainly thought about it more than a few times..." He muses, pulling away just enough for you to see the smirk on his lips.

You're still a bit stunned by his sudden shift in demeanor and his hinting words. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Diavolo chuckles. "Be patient for me, spouse. We'll talk more about this tonight, okay?"

And before Barbatos can interrupt such an intimate moment, Diavolo presses a kiss to the corners of your lips before leaving- leaving you stunned and waiting for the promise of tonight.

BARBATOS

You were helping him set up for a party being hosted by the Devildom's prince, wanting to do anything to relieve some of the stress of it for him. "Where should these flowers go?" The delivery man asked, glancing around the giant hall.

"Hmm," you hum in thought, also glancing around the hall. "My husband will want them over there." You say casually, just loud enough to capture the said demon's attention. He didn't really give much of a reaction at first, just glancing your way before returning to the party details.

It wasn't until much later that you finally find out how he feels about your words. "Husband, hm?" He asks, his hand in yours as he leads you two around the dance floor- one of the few pleasures of helping to plan a party. You grin, your eyes sparkling with delight.

"I was wondering if you heard that." Barbatos hums in response, a smile sneaking its way on to his features.

"Whilst I'm not opposed to the title," He says, pulling you impossibly closer to him. "Perhaps we should wait until I've properly earned it, hm?"

"Oh? And when will that be?" You tease, biting your lip in anticipation. Barbatos chuckles, taking a step away as the song ends. He bows, placing a kiss to the back of your hand.

"Soon, I assure you." And then he's leading you to get a drink with him.

SIMEON

Sometimes it was hard to tease Simeon, but other times it was oh-so-easy that it'd be painfully hard not to mess with him a little. So when the little old granny cheerfully asked if you two were a married couple, you had to step in. You clutched his arm a little tighter, and before he could answer you spoke. "That's right, this my darling husband~"

Simeon sputtered a bit, looking at you mild disbelief to have agreed and even call him such an endearing term without hesitation. Simeon, trying not to cause a scene however, composed himself rather quickly and smiled at the elder woman.

"Mm, yes... I- I'm their husband..." He nods along. He's thankful she doesn't say much more, only commenting you two were adorable together before leaving. When she's far enough, you burst out into laughter. He frowns, arms crossed over his chest.

"Honestly..." He sighs, shaking his head at your antics. "You just love to mess with me, don't you?" You wipe away at tears from laughing so hard, glancing at him with a grin.

"Well it'll be true one day, so what's the harm in saying it now, right?" And if you thought his reaction earlier was cute, this one was much, much cuter- a shy smile he tries hard to hide. Simeon certainly hopes it'll be true one day.

SOLOMON

"Husband, oh my lovely husband~" You call whilst you know Solomon's in the middle of brewing a potion. You peaked your head into his lab, only to see him completely unbothered. He lifts his head only to meet your eyes for a few brief seconds before returning to his potion.

"Is there something you need, dear?" You frown, entering the room fully now.

"Not even a smile? No blush? Nothing?" He has a sly grin now as he shrugs.

"It's not I'm new to the title or anything." Solomon says simply, and this simple sentence causes your eye to twitch. "A great many, in fact, have called me such-" He narrowly dodges an attack, an alchemical book flying right for his head, before he realizes maybe he went a little too far with his own teasing.

"I'm never calling you that again, I swear-" Before you can leave he's abandoned his potion, his arms encircling you from behind.

"Don't be mad," He whispers, "You know that there isn't anybody I'd rather call me that than you." He presses kisses to the nape of your neck and downwards toward your shoulder. "And it's never sounded as sweet as it does than coming from your lips- like wine." He murmurs, "sweet and addicting." You roll your eyes, turning around to face him.

"Don't think your flowery words have gotten you out of trouble... completely." He grins, that mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"I have plenty more where that came from, if you're interested?"

Biting back a laugh, you drag him out of his lab. "Hm, keep it up and you'll have that title back by the end of the day." And he was more than happy to provide flowery, honeyed words forever should it please you.

[miraabellee]

Do you really have to ask? ... I mean it's crystal clear how different those relationships were and are in the first place. Someone towering over you, using you in every possible way, betraying you et cetera. Yes, Mythal was convinced to talk to Elgar'nan but, oh wonder, who would've thought it led to her death to consult power hungry mages, ahem (I don't have to hold up the sarcasm sign, do I?). And then all of a sudden - SHE - appeared. One of the first things Lavellan said to him in private was loosely quoted something like "I won't let others hurt you. And I will do whatever is necessary to prevent you from any harm." And he fell for that, fell for her, and he didn't want him to want her but couldn't help himself. He tried to keep his distance but failed each time she got close and touched him (god, he's soooo touch starved). She didn't crowd him, they were equals - and he loved that, loved her, but wouldn't doom her and put his burden on her. So he left but still wasn't able to let someone so special go. It's kind of sad to see how obsessed he was with her? Not being able to stay with her but also not being able to draw the line.

Don't get me wrong. He loved/loves Mythal but in a different way compared to Lavellan and maybe he needed to know how different love could be? (Or maybe he just couldn't face her until his duty was fulfilled, idk. Would make sense if he wasn't romantically involved with Inky.)

(Oh, and if your comment was meant sarcastically, then please don't mind my post)

This location was just stunning

[punkshort]

Swept Away: Season Two

Chapter Two: Kokomo

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: The first few days back in Fiji was heaven on earth - until things start to unravel.

Chapter Warnings: language, reader has long-ish hair, fluff, smut (18+ MDNI), alcohol and food consumption, wedding talk, possessiveness, jealousy, mention of OC substance abuse, an air of mystery, perhaps?

WC: 7.4K

Series Masterlist

A/N: inspired by this ask. I should also mention I have some personal stuff going on that I've been struggling with and yesterday things took a nose dive — I haven't been on here as much as usual but I'll try to hop on when I have the ability. Thank you for understanding ❤️

It had only been a couple days at The Parador and Joel had warned you repeatedly the hotel wasn't fully operational yet, to expect some things to not be ready or up to snuff, but so far it felt like literal heaven on earth. Waking up the past few mornings with the warm sea breeze floating in through the open doors of your bedroom, laying next to the man you loved more than anything, your future husband, while exotic birds sang somewhere outside had you on cloud nine.

The first day you arrived, you had wandered around the villa in awe. There were three bedrooms, including the master, and each had its own ensuite bathroom. You realized right away your parents easily could have stayed with you, but you didn't say anything to Joel. Deep down, you appreciated the privacy, and you had a feeling Joel wanted the same. The way your parents acted any time you mentioned Joel or the wedding was really starting to gnaw at you, and resentment was burning brighter than you let on.

Granted, your relationship with your parents hadn't always been great. Growing up in their house had its challenges. You and your mother butt heads a lot and your father had a tendency to work as much as possible, creating a void between you during the most formative years in your life. It was around the time you announced you were moving to Los Angeles for college that you felt your relationship with them crumble even more. They absolutely hated the idea of you living in L.A. — preconceived notions of the city they read online had your mother convinced you would be homeless and your father thinking you would "fall into the wrong crowd". But once you graduated and got a job at a production company, you thought their minds would be put at ease, so you did your best to repair that relationship. As more time passed and the phone calls became shorter and more uncomfortable, you began to wonder if they had hoped you would fail just so you would have to move back home, proving them right.

All of that aside, getting engaged and moving in with Joel should have shown them how happy and successful you were. They should have been happy, too. Yet, they still held back, refusing to get to know Joel better or talk much about your engagement.

It was the only dark cloud over an otherwise amazing time in your life, so you were ultimately glad Joel decided to book them a villa in a different hotel instead of sharing a room. The last thing you wanted was for them to ruin the grand opening of The Parador with their negativity looming around every corner. Both you and Joel worked so hard on the hotel, you deserved to enjoy yourselves.

And enjoy yourselves, you did. It was your third day on the island and even Joel couldn't resist how spectacular it felt to be back in paradise. He looked so relaxed and happy that it was hard to remember you were technically there to work, with some wedding planning scheduled during the quieter parts of your days. But it didn't stop either of you from lounging by the pool or beach whenever you could with your phones and laptops while upbeat music played softly through the speakers surrounding the area. It surprised you at first, to see Joel so relaxed during a workday. It was a far cry from the way he behaved the last time you were in Fiji.

Another thing you certainly didn't recall him doing the last time you were there was having a cocktail or two with lunch. He had grown particularly fond of frozen drinks, something that always made you giggle when you saw him sipping around all the fruit and a fancy umbrella, shoulders shifting slightly in rhythm with the music.

"What?" he asked hazily from his lounge chair when he heard you. His sunglasses were perched on the tip of his nose and his lips were wrapped around the bright pink straw of his piña colada.

"Nothing. I'm just loving this side of you," you grinned. His laptop sat open at the end of his chair but right next to it was a book he had been reading, spread open and face down while he ate. "Can't wait to see more of this relaxed Joel on our honeymoon."

You could tell by the way his cheeks were slightly pink and the glassy look in his eye that he was just a little tipsy when his eyebrow arched at the topic of your honeymoon.

"'Bout that," he said, putting the fancy glass down next to him. "Have you decided where you wanna go?"

You shrugged and shook your head. "Maybe Italy? Or Costa Rica?"

"What 'bout Paris?" he asked before leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

"Maybe," you said, pursing your lips in thought. "Not many opportunities to see you in those swim trunks in Paris, though."

Joel grinned and turned his head to look at you over his sunglasses. "You like me on the beach, huh?"

You giggled, making his smile spread even wider.

"You do seem at home on the beach."

He pushed his sunglasses back up to the bridge of his nose and took another sip from his drink. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his email program pop up with an alert in the corner of his laptop screen, but he didn't seem to give a shit. The sun felt so nice and it was indescribably peaceful, sitting in your own private garden-slash-patio while the waves crashed lightly against the sandy shore not too far away. The sound drew Joel's attention and he turned his head, watching the foamy crests splash down onto the smooth sand. Then, a thought occurred to him and he frowned.

He remembered a time from your first week on the island, back when he had hired you to pretend to be his fiancée. When you first met Glenn, you made up a story about how Joel proposed to you on the beach in Santa Monica. Later, when he asked if that's what you always wanted, you shrugged it off. I tried to think of the most romantic thing possible and it just popped into my head, you had said. Joel turned back to you and took off his sunglasses.

"Should I have proposed to you on the beach?"

Your head snapped up from your phone in surprise. "What?"

"That story you told Glenn, when we were—"

"No!" you exclaimed, sitting up in your chair. "I love how you proposed to me. Both times!" you added, holding up both hands and making him grin. "You could have proposed to me literally anywhere and I would have said yes. I already told you, Joel," you scooted closer and leaned forward to cup his face with both your hands. "I love you so much, I would marry you anywhere. All the rest of this... stuff—" you jutted your chin towards your phone, where you had been replying to an email from Nadia, "—it's just for fun. It doesn't really matter. This is all that matters."

You pressed your lips lightly to his, feeling him smile before leaning back and dropping your hands to your lap.

"Hopeless romantic," Joel teased, his dark eyes sparkling and playful. You just giggled and shook your head at the familiar accusation. When you picked your phone back up to finish your email, Joel groaned and suddenly jumped up from his chair.

"I fuckin' love this song," he announced before swaying his hips. He began to sing softly to himself as he shuffled around the edge of the pool, and it wasn't until he was further away that you heard the lyrics to Kokomo filtering through the speakers.

"C'mon, pretty mama," Joel called, swiveling around and holding out his arms for you. "Dance with me, baby," he added, smirking while slowly bobbing his shoulders and mouthing the words in your direction. You burst out laughing and shook your head.

"You're drunk!"

"I ain't drunk, I'm fuckin' happy!" Joel exclaimed loudly. His chin tilted towards the clear blue sky and closed his eyes while he continued to move from side to side around the patio. When he stumbled a bit, you laughed and tossed your phone on the table so you could join him.

"Be careful, you're going to trip," you scolded playfully, wrapping your arms around his bare torso and resting your chin on his warm, sun-kissed chest.

"Maybe I should get you another ring and propose on the beach," Joel murmured, gazing down at you. He was still swaying, pulling you with him as he spoke.

"Don't you fucking dare."

He laughed and his hands settled on your hips, tugging you close so you could move in sync with the music.

"Alright, fine," he relented, slowly spinning you both in a circle. "Least let's play this at the wedding."

"Kokomo? You want to dance to Kokomo in front of all your super rich buddies?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with it?" he asked with a little concerned crease between his brows. The earnest look on his face had you melting on the spot.

"Nothing," you said softly. You swiped your thumb over his frown, smoothing it out before stretching onto your tiptoes to kiss the corner of his mouth. "We can dance to Kokomo, I think it's perfect."

His lips captured yours before you could pull away, forcing you to sway back and forth on the balls of your feet with your chest against his. In the background, you could hear the final few lyrics of the song fade out, a new one starting right on its heels. It was a faster tempo, but Joel kept you both moving slow, your hips pressed together while his tongue pushed languidly into your mouth. He tasted sweet, like coconut and pineapple with just the faintest hint of rum.

You made a pleased little sound in the back of your throat when you felt him begin to harden through his swim trunks. Pulling back and grinning when he chased after your lips, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and asked, "Getting all hot and bothered, Mr. Miller?"

"Don't know what you're talkin' 'bout," he insisted, lips finding a home on your neck. "You're lookin' a little warm, though," he added, tilting his head and switching to the other side of your throat. Your eyelids fluttered when his teeth grazed your pulse point. "Maybe it's you who's feelin' hot?"

You swallowed tightly before answering.

"It's really hot," you whispered.

"What is?" Joel asked, lips puckering around your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake.

"The s-sun," you stammered. Obviously. But both of you were beginning to forget what you were talking about.

Joel hummed and walked you backwards a step or two, his arms wrapped around you tightly, preventing you from tripping.

Or so you thought.

"I got just the thing for that."

"Huh?" you asked hazily with your eyes still closed and your fingers getting tangled in his hair. But before you even had a chance to scream, Joel twisted around, tightened his grip around your waist, and jumped backwards into the pool, pulling you down with him.

The water was heated but it was still a shock to the system. You screeched underwater and kicked away, propelling yourself out of his arms and to the surface for air. You gasped and snapped your eyes open, hair plastered to your face as you whipped back and forth until Joel emerged from the water, laughing and reaching for you again.

"Oh, I don't think so!" you exclaimed, and before he could get his hands on you, you kicked off the wall of the pool, giving yourself the advantage and swimming away.

Your fingers grazed the railing of the steps. You were so close, but then Joel's hand wrapped around your ankle, tugging you back across the water as you screamed and giggled until he had you flipped around, lifting you up so he could wrap his arms and legs around you, immobilizing you completely.

"Where y'goin', baby?" he breathed, "Don't it feel good?"

Panting, you gazed up at him through your wet lashes. He looked so genuinely happy and at ease, it took your breath away. You couldn't stop admiring him; the sparkle in his eye, the dimple in his cheek, his broad shoulders... but the way the sun glittered on his tanned skin made you finally stop struggling. When he felt your muscles relax, his grip loosened.

"What?" he finally asked when you took too long to speak. You smiled and shook your head, then pulled him tighter again.

"How'd I get so lucky?" you whispered softly. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, deflecting the compliment, so instead you circled your arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss. Under the water, his hands reached down to cup your ass, pulling you snug against his hips while you deepened the kiss with a moan.

Your chest felt light, heart tapping excitedly against your sternum with each touch and kiss. It was impossible to keep the smile from your face. How could you, when you were having the time of your life in paradise with the man who you planned to spend the rest of your life with?

"Speaking of—" Joel said breathlessly when he broke away. He massaged you underwater, fingers greedily stretching so he could grab as much of your ass as possible. Your eyes followed a drop of water that trickled from his hair and down the side of his face and you licked your lips. "Am I 'bout to get lucky, or what?"

"Here?" you questioned, but he just smirked and nodded.

"Why not? No one can see us."

You bit your lip and glanced around, trying not to let his roaming hands and his hot mouth on your neck distract you. He was right - there weren't any other guests in the hotel but even if there had been, the gardens and natural fauna surrounding the patio were too thick to see through.

Joel nipped at your throat, teeth gently pinching your wet skin and you sighed, relaxing into his hold. "O-okay," you whispered.

"Atta girl," Joel chuckled before swinging you around in the pool so your back was pressed against the side. Fortunately, it was the side facing the ocean. There was no concrete lip behind you so as to mimic the water merging with the horizon. It allowed you to comfortably rest your weight on your elbows, which were perched on the smooth tile edge, and lean back so Joel could pull your bikini bottoms off.

Before you met, Joel would never have been caught dead blowing off work in the middle of the day. He practically worked around the clock, his only focus in life being his company and what he could do to become more successful. But now, his focus remained firmly planted on you. Even back home, it didn't matter how busy he was, in the back of his mind he always thought of you, finding comfort in knowing you were somewhere in the building and just a phone call away.

But having you within arms reach in the middle of paradise proved to be harder for him to resist than he thought.

Just as quickly as he shed you of your swimsuit, he was back with one hand pressing flat against your spine, pushing your bodies together while his mouth continued to suck on your neck. Underwater, your legs wrapped around his waist, the movement feeling like quicksand, but you weren't sure if it was the buoyancy or the desire coursing through your veins that had you feeling sluggish.

Joel's hand dropped between you, fingers quickly undoing the tie on his shorts so he could loosen them around his hips. Meanwhile, his mouth found yours again, kissing you with a deep groan when his tongue slipped past your lips.

The pad of his finger caught on your clit, making you whine as the familiar heat bloomed between your legs. Your hips rolled forward, chasing his hand, wordlessly asking for more. A sly smile pulled across his mouth and then he tore himself away, fingers still teasing featherlight strokes along your slit.

"I'll be right back," he said, pushing off the wall.

"Wh- what?" you stammered, eyelids fluttering. Joel took a deep breath then disappeared below the water and before you had a chance to process what was happening, his hands wrapped around your thighs and pulled you onto his mouth.

"Shit!" you cried out when you felt his hot tongue gliding through your lips. He ate at you messily underwater, knowing he would soon have to return for air left him unable to take his time and savor it like he normally would.

A flash of heat seared through you, a lightning bolt from the center of your legs that reached to every nerve ending in your body. Something about feeling weightless and having the ability to relax your muscles entirely while Joel alternated between fucking you with his tongue and sucking on your clit had you shaking in a matter of seconds.

When he tore himself away and crashed through the surface of the water with a frantic gasp for air, you had the audacity to pout. You whined his name and writhed against the side of the pool, causing him to smirk amidst catching his breath.

"What is it, baby?"

"You can't do that. That's teasing," you grumbled. He caught his lower lip between his teeth and grabbed your thighs underwater, spreading them apart roughly before growling, "Did I say I was done?"

He had about half a second to clock the delight in your face before he inhaled deeply and dove back under. His mouth seared against your pussy immediately, tongue probing and licking desperately until he needed more air.

It was a new sensation, being brought to the edge just to be pulled back when he needed to breathe. It had you clawing at his shoulders and murmuring filth in his ear every time he came up to recover, but you couldn't help yourself. Your ears were ringing and your body felt like every nerve ending was frayed whenever he tore his mouth away, but thankfully after being toyed with one too many times, his hand took the place of his mouth when he emerged.

"Fuck, look at you," he groaned, fingers working quickly under the water. Two thrusted inside you, curling and stretching while the heel of his palm massaged your clit. His free arm came to rest on the ledge behind you so his entire body ended up caging you in. When you peeled your eyes open, mouth agape and mind blurry, all you could see was Joel towering over you.

"Need you to come for me," he ground out through clenched teeth. "Need to fuck you, baby, c'mon, lemme see it."

Water splashed lightly near your shoulder from how fast Joel was working his wrist between your legs. It only took a few more slaps of his palm against your clit before your muscles tensed and your eyes rolled back with a low moan. Your hips rocked forward and you gasped as each wave of your climax shuddered through you, all the while crumbling under Joel's intense stare.

"That's it — feels good, huh?" Joel's lips found the underside of your jaw and began sucking lightly at your skin. "Pussy's so tight, squeezin' me so fuckin' good... that's it, you're alright, shh, so pretty like this. So fuckin' pretty—"

His mouth crashed over yours, silencing his ramblings and your moans until you relaxed and he slowly removed his fingers.

"Joel," you whimpered, chest heaving and heart racing. You reached for him, a trembling hand searching for him under the water, needing him just as badly as you needed oxygen in your lungs.

One leg hooked around his waist and a hand cupped the back of his neck. You felt delirious; lost entirely to the feeling only Joel was able to create. Everything about him, you loved. You loved how he knew you so well, in every way imaginable. You loved how he took care of you, protected you, worshiped you. All of those reasons and more told you he was the man you should spend the rest of your life with.

And if that wasn't enough, he somehow always managed to drag the most intense pleasure from you. He knew what you needed without you having to ask, undoing you every single time.

"Sure you're ready?" Joel breathed shakily, but he was already lining himself up, chin tucked into his chest, eyes peering through the water. You nodded and swallowed, fingers tightening around the back of his neck.

You felt him there, swollen tip resting against your opening, and you held your breath. Both of his hands held your hips steady, keeping you in place, and then his eyes flickered up to yours. All you saw reflected back was utter devotion when he pushed inside, each of you gasping in unison. You refused to look away, his dark eyes too magnetic, as his hands pulled you down onto his cock, nice and slow. He held your gaze until your hips sat flushed with his and he released you in favor of cupping your face. His mouth slanted over yours, nipping desperately at your lower lip while you fluttered and pulsed around him.

"How's that, huh?" His hips shifted, stretching you open and reaching the furthest depths of you. Your back arched off the side of the pool, gasping into his mouth.

"Fuck," you whined around the messy kisses Joel was peppering against your lips.

"Feel all of me in there?" He rolled his hips deliberately, touching lightly against a spot that had you grappling feverishly at the slippery curls on the back of his head.

"Fuck," you cursed again, "yeah. More, Joel, please."

"Yeah? Think you can handle it?" he asked, his mouth dropping to your chin, then your jaw. "Think this perfect fuckin' pussy can take it?"

You couldn't answer. All you could do was whimper pathetically, each snap of his hips driving the air straight from your lungs. But he didn't mind, because he was already too lost in the feel of you to demand an answer.

"You got no idea—" Joel grunted, slowing his hips when he felt himself nearing his peak too soon. He shifted his weight, wrapped an arm around the curve of your back under the water, and took a moment to catch his breath. "—you got no idea how fuckin' crazy you make me," he finished, staring deep into your eyes.

Your leg tightened around his waist and you leaned forward, grazing your teeth lightly over his throat when you said, "Crazy enough to fuck me in a pool on a Wednesday afternoon."

Joel growled, the sound vibrating against your lips. "You like this, don't you? You like gettin' me so hard 'n worked up, I can barely think."

You thought you managed to whisper out a yes, but you couldn't be sure because a second later, Joel was pounding into you again. Water splashed up, dotting both your faces and lips with little droplets. One strong arm pinned you roughly to his chest, and the other protected the back of your head from the tile, completely immobilizing you. Your open mouths hovered inches apart, leaving just enough room for your shared grunts and moans to escape, each devastating thrust bringing you both closer to the edge.

"Oh, f-fuck," you stammered, body jolting violently in his grip from the force of his hips slamming into you. His jaw tightened, brow furrowing as he fought back his own climax. You were close, he could feel it. He just needed to give you a little more.

"Don't stop," you begged, and Joel shook his head, stomach tensing with the need to let go. A strangled noise made its way past your lips and you feverishly clutched the sides of his head. "Kiss me," you pleaded.

His mouth crashed against yours, tongue sliding past your lips, and all the while he maintained that same, steady pace underwater. There was a moment where he thought he might not be able to hold back any longer, but then he felt your body go rigid and a broken version of his name tumbled into his mouth. A second later, the sweet feeling of relief flooded his veins as he came, pumping you full of his seed while you both rode out the rest of your highs together.

Joel broke the kiss with a sharp gasp, then buried his face in the crook of your neck so he could catch his breath. Your fingers combed lovingly through his hair and you closed your eyes, basking in the sun and the afterglow of your orgasm with Joel still buried deep between your legs. His arms remained wrapped around you, as well, keeping you so close that your chests bumped together with every shaky breath. After several quiet minutes, Joel whispered your name, his soft way of checking in.

You swallowed, throat hoarse and dry. "Say it," you mumbled drowsily. You felt his lips twitch against your neck.

"I love you."

A slow smile stretched across your face and you sighed.

"I love you, too."

The drive to Glenn and Mary's mansion brought back so many memories. Nerves, excitement, and anticipation filled you the first time, hoping you would do a good job at selling your fake engagement so Joel would appear relatable to Glenn and therefore make him look like the best choice to purchase the land for the hotel. Then afterwards, uneasiness and pangs of jealousy once you found out that Joel used to carry on an affair with another hotel mogul's wife, Tammy.

This time was different. Now, you were legitimately Joel's fiancée and madly in love. No more secrets, no more feelings of betrayal. You couldn't have been any happier.

"I'm looking forward to seeing them again," you told Joel. He sat next to you in the backseat of the town car, your left hand engulfed by his across the middle seat. His thumb distractedly played with the huge diamond on your ring finger and he smiled.

"Should be nice. Just them, Trevor and Zoe," he recapped.

Zoe. You were so excited to see your old friend, a port in the storm the last time you were on the island. She was young, beautiful, carefree and a former sugarbaby. While you hid that part of your history from everyone — with the exception of Joel's trusted assistant, Liam — Zoe had told you her secret in confidence early on in your trip. As much as you wanted to share with her your own background, you knew how detrimental it would be to Joel, so you kept your mouth shut. Still, Zoe turned out to be an incredible friend. She was there the night Brooks — Glenn and Mary's son —assaulted you in a restaurant bathroom. She took care of you until Joel arrived that night. She also had your back when Tammy and Lynne accused you of being a gold digger during a dinner party towards the end of your trip.

Needless to say, after the trip ended, you remained close friends. You were thrilled to find out she quit being a sugarbaby and found herself a boyfriend... none other than Glenn and Mary's other son, Trevor. Who actually didn't turn out to be that bad, compared to his brother.

"Much better group than last time," you said, squeezing Joel's hand.

He smirked and rolled his eyes, knowing full well you were referring to Tammy and her little sidekick, Lynne.

"Easy," he teased.

Glenn and Mary lived right on the beach in a stunning Mediterranean-style house which was surrounded by exotic plants and meticulously maintained gardens, a home that still took your breath away whenever you saw it.

When your car pulled up, you could see all the lights on inside, and when the chauffeur opened your door and you stepped out, you could hear the soft sounds of music echoing from the backyard.

"They must be on the patio," you said to Joel, looping your hand through his arm and allowing him to lead you to the front door.

"They do love their view," he murmured.

A man you didn't recognize but who appeared to be part of the catering service opened the door for you with the offer of champagne. You each took a flute before heading through the familiar, grandiose foyer. The kitchen and dining areas were silent except for the staff furiously working away. Your gaze drifted to look through the glass that lead out to their gorgeous pool area, spotting four familiar faces smiling and laughing around the outdoor bar. When Zoe turned her head and locked eyes with you through the windows, her face lit up. Yours must have done the same because you immediately dropped Joel's arm and squealed excitedly.

Hurrying outside, you ran to meet Zoe halfway, then threw your arms around each other's necks, swaying back and forth and murmuring compliments in the other's ear while trying to simultaneously not spill your drinks.

"Your hair! It's so long!" you gushed when you pulled away. Your fingers idly slid down her shiny locks with a smile so wide, your cheeks hurt. "And this dress! Oh my god—"

"You should talk! You're practically glowing!" Zoe beamed right back before snatching your right hand to hold it up to the dim garden lighting. "Or is it this massive fucking rock?"

She whispered the last part so none of the others heard. They had come forward to greet Joel while you and Zoe got reacquainted, fortunately buying you an extra minute to come up with some excuse as to why you had two engagement rings.

"Oh, this?" you laughed, stretching your fingers out so you could both admire it. "Joel thought he owed me another one since it's taken us so long to get married."

"Goddamn, Joel. You are one smart man," Glenn bellowed behind you. You swiveled around with a huge grin so you could give Glenn, Mary, and Trevor each a warm hug. When you were about to step away, Mary tsked and held out her hand, so you placed your right palm in hers while they got a good look at your new ring.

"Felt bad that storm set construction back a few weeks," Joel explained, quickly rolling with your story. He curled an arm around your waist when everyone was done admiring your ring, tucking you into his side. "Caused a headache with the wedding planner. Y'know how it is."

"I always told you — happy wife, happy life," Glenn chuckled before waving everyone over to the appetizers, which had just been set out near the bar. "C'mon, dig in. Then I wanna hear all about the soft open."

Joel opened his mouth to reply when a man's familiar sounding drawl rang out behind you.

"Oh, well, what do you know? We just came from there, I can tell you all about it."

Your body reacted before your brain had a chance to figure out what was happening. The hairs on your arms stood up and your heart felt like it was lodged in your throat.

You knew that voice.

"Scott! Didn't think you were comin' in til later!" Glenn called out cheerily. Zoe's hand found your forearm and she gave it a reassuring squeeze. Then, Joel murmured something in your ear but your blood was pumping so fast and loud, you couldn't hear him. Because if Scott was there, that meant...

"Tammy!" Mary sang, raising her arms above her head with a sweet smile. She didn't notice your reaction, neither did Glenn. They were too busy giving them both hugs and murmuring something to them about the weather.

Joel tried to get your attention again but you felt frozen in place. Zoe released your arm, whispered breathe in your ear, then followed Trevor over to greet them next.

"C'mon, let's just get through this," Joel urged, and you blinked before snapping your head to look at him.

"Did you—"

"No."

You exhaled in relief. It was a surprise, Joel didn't know they were coming. Still...

"Get over here, you son of a bitch," Scott laughed, tapping Joel on his shoulder. He let you go and plastered a polite smile across his face before giving him a hug. He hesitated for half a second, then gave Tammy a quick kiss on the cheek. You knew he had to do it. It would have looked weird if he didn't. But it still had your claws coming out, so you tucked your hand behind your back, squeezing your fingers into a tight fist to release some anger.

Tammy's eyes landed on you and she gave you a fake smile, murmured your name, and stiffly leaned forward to kiss you on the cheek. It took everything in your power to move, to press your cheek against hers, to say nice to see you and act like either of you meant it.

You broke apart quickly, each of you avoiding eye contact and retreating back to your partners. Joel wrapped an arm around your waist, his fingers pressed into your hip, wordlessly trying to soothe you, to tell you it was okay. With your cheeks hot, you caught Zoe's eye. She looked just as taken aback as you.

"Did you, uh, say you were at The Parador?" Joel asked. He sounded guarded, like he was bracing for something. He must have already connected the dots and for some reason, you were lagging, because Scott nodded and announced the obvious.

"We were lucky enough to get one of the rooms for the soft open." Scott tossed Joel a grin while lacing his fingers together with his wife's. "Don't worry. We won't be too harsh in our review. Right, honey?" he joked.

Scott looked down at Tammy who batted her lashes and nodded.

"That's right. We know there's bumps to iron out when a new location opens up. We understand the business."

Scott owned his own chain of hotels and was in contention to win the plot of land Joel ended up getting on the island, so they were no stranger to the hospitality industry. But as nice as Scott was, at the end of the day, Joel was a competitor and he won something Scott couldn't have. It had your gut twisting nervously by Joel's side.

"Well, if somethin' doesn't meet your standards, you let me know immediately," Joel responded. You had to give him credit, he was handling the turn of events much better than you were, but something told you he would be expressing his true thoughts on the matter in the car later.

The only saving grace all evening happened when Scott and Tammy chose to sit at the opposite end of the table from you and Joel. It afforded you a chance to get your bearings and breathe.

"I didn't know," Zoe whispered before you could even ask. "I heard they had a layover on their way to Australia, but I didn't think they'd be stopping here."

"It's fine," you mumbled, picking at the fish on your plate. "Maybe they're just saying long enough to see Glenn and Mary."

You were wrong.

By the time your plates were cleared and dessert was being served, the topic of Scott and Tammy's unexpected arrival finally came up.

"Australia? What's taking the two of you there?" Mary asked. Candlelight that decorated the table flickered across her face, making her dark hair shimmer. She was beautiful and always very sweet. Even after your altercation with Brooks, both she and Glenn stood by your side and made the difficult decision to send their son off to rehab on a neighboring island. You were grateful for their kindness and generosity towards you during your last stay, but you had to admit, you were envious of how absolutely clueless she and her husband were about the dynamics at their table. You couldn't be certain about Trevor, but considering Zoe knew all the drama with Tammy, you had to assume the only people at the table who were in the dark were Glenn, Mary and Scott.

"Thought we'd take some time off down uhnda," Scott laughed, "Figured we deserved a little break. Hotels have been doing great but it's cost me a lot of late nights. So, we planned a little trip, just the two of us. But when we realized The Parador was about to have its grand open? Well," he breathed, locking eyes with Joel. "Couldn't miss that, now could we?"

"The boys were beside themselves but I told them when they graduate college, we'll consider taking them somewhere of their choosing," Tammy cooed, swirling her crystal wine glass in her hand. "That is, if their grades reflect the hard work they claim they're putting in."

"You sure you ain't lookin' to expand in Australia?" Glenn asked coyly. Scott gave him a sly smirk and shrugged.

"Who's to say."

Tammy scoffed and playfully swat at his shoulder. "No business, you promised!"

While the men laughed, you and Zoe exchanged glances and focused on your plates. Scott, to your knowledge, never knew Tammy had an affair with Joel all those years ago. So to watch them act so sickeningly sweet and in love irked you both. Especially when Joel confessed to you that Tammy had developed strong feelings for him during their tryst.

"When do your parents get in?" Zoe asked softly, but Mary overheard anyway and perked up.

"Oh! Your parents? That's lovely! They must be coming to help you plan the wedding!"

You nodded, feeling your cheeks warm when the entire table dragged their focus onto you.

"Yes, they arrive late tonight, actually," you responded. "They'll help a bit, but they aren't the type to take vacations, well... ever, really. So it was Joel's idea to get them out here and relax for once."

Joel smiled and his hand found yours underneath the table. He gave you a gentle squeeze, soothing your frayed nerves.

"Well, that's thoughtful. We all oughta go out to dinner before they leave," Glenn suggested. You swallowed tightly and nodded before Zoe swooped in.

"Mary! I forgot to tell you... we went to that new restaurant the other day."

"Ocean Terrace? How was it?"

And just like that, the attention shifted to Zoe and Trevor as they told the table about a horrendous dining experience.

"Dinner's almost over," Joel assured you quietly. You met his gaze, his dark eyes glittering in the dim lighting making your chest tighten with affection. "We'll make up some excuse not to get dinner with 'em again, don't worry."

You let out a shaky breath and nodded. You could do this. Besides, what could Tammy possibly do that hasn't already been done? She was a mood killer at that point and nothing more.

Your shoulders relaxed after your plates were cleared and people began to stand. Scott mentioned something about jet lag and Joel made an exaggerated yawn before making a comment about having an early meeting.

Zoe pulled you in for a hug and murmured in your ear about getting lunch. You told her you wanted to spend some time with your parents the next day, but promised to text her and set something up after. Then you gave Trevor a quick hug, which resulted in an avalanche of farewells and polite pecks on cheeks.

Joel was leading you through the house, back the way you came. Every step made you breathe a little easier until Glenn suddenly jogged up behind you.

"Joel? You got a quick minute?"

Joel's eyes flickered between yours and Glenn's, confusion etching his face before he nodded and let go of your hand.

"I'll meet you in the car."

You didn't think anything of it. Figured it was business related; that maybe Glenn wanted to book a few villas for friends or maybe host an event in one of the ballrooms. You took out your phone after you settled into your seat and opened a text from your mother, letting you know they safely landed and that they were checking into their hotel. You tapped out a quick response, telling her you would call them the next day and advised them to get some rest when Joel slipped into the backseat. His lips were pressed into a thin line and his brows pulled tight. You quickly dropped your phone back into your purse when you sensed the tension rolling off his shoulders.

"What's wrong?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, his hand found the button for the partition. You could hear the little motor whirring as it slowly closed, giving you privacy from the driver as he drove down the empty streets, back to The Parador.

Even in the dim ambient lighting from the ceiling, you could read Joel's face. He was pissed.

"Joel?" you tried again. His jaw tensed and your eyes dropped to his knee, which was bouncing anxiously as he mulled over whatever Glenn had just said. Then finally, he forced his gaze onto you and your stomach dropped when he said, "Brooks is outta rehab. Been back on the island for a week, and—" he bit the inside of his cheek before huffing in disbelief and shaking his head. "—and he wants to see you. Says he's got somethin' important he wants to say. Glenn thinks he plans to apologize. Make amends or some shit. Part of some program..." he trailed off and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh while you remained frozen, unable to tear your eyes away from the cut of Joel's jaw.

"What?" you whispered. Joel heard the tremor in your voice. He quickly turned his focus back onto you, taking your hand in both of his and drawing soothing circles on your knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

"It's fine. He ain't comin' anywhere near you, y'hear me?"

You nodded because it was all you could manage to do. Your throat was too tight to speak. This was all too much—

"I don't care what they say. He's their kid, 'course they're gonna believe him when he says he ain't using," Joel muttered. You cleared your throat and took a breath.

"Well... maybe he is—"

"Ain't up for discussion," Joel said coldly, cutting you off. Goosebumps flashed across your skin at his tone. "If it's that important, he can call or write a letter or some shit. He ain't ever gonna lay a hand on you again."

You nodded and clamped your mouth shut. It wasn't often Joel put his foot down, and considering what happened last time, he had every right to be suspicious and on edge. Besides — you weren't interested in seeing him. Only just morbidly curious.

The rest of the drive was quiet. He kept your hand on his leg, his warm palm pressing comfortingly against yours while you both stared out your respective windows, lost in thought.

Foolishly, you thought it was over; that the universe had thrown you enough curveballs for one night.

When Joel swung the door open to your villa, the room was dark. He stepped inside and began to flick on all the lights, leaving you to close and lock the door behind you. Somewhere in the master bedroom, you heard the curtains closing, but your gaze had fallen to a crisp white envelope under your shoe. You frowned, eyes darting from the envelope to the door, then leaned down to pick it up.

You flipped it over in your hands: it was sealed and not addressed to anybody.

"I'm gonna shower," Joel called from the bathroom.

"Okay," you answered distractedly. You heard the water turn on as you wandered into the kitchen, studying the envelope while trying to remember if Joel had mentioned he was expecting anything.

Curiosity eventually got the best of you and you ripped it open. Inside was just one white piece of common printer paper with four simple words staining the page, yet those four words made your blood run cold and dread settle over you like a blanket of snow:

I know your secret.

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[anniebeckcalla]

───make it right.

(bf! jaemin x reader) ◦ ₊ wc: 683 ◦ ₊ cw: fluff, slight angst, one use of swearing ◦ ₊ lowercase intended! ◦ ₊ navigation

you curled up in your bed, your head stinging, throat hoarse, and eyes rubbed raw from tears. with the strength of an invalid, you reached a hand out for the box of tissues that sat on your bedside table, only to be met with empty cardboard that sagged under your weight. with a little shriek, you slithered your arm back into your duvet fortress and allowed all hell to break loose as your sobs shook the bedframe.

what was making you feel so sorrowful?

rather…who?

no other than na jaemin, your ex. he was the one who had ended the relationship. “I'm not emotionally ready for a commitment yet,” he'd said, twirling a lock of your hair around his finger as he smiled sympathetically. “you deserve someone who you can love unconditionally.” “i only love you, jaemin,” you had sobbed, to no avail. for the past two weeks, you had made your bed and duvet your new home, refusing to look at your phone and eating nothing but strawberry soft scoop ice cream. your endless crying had forced you to use up all the tissues In your apartment- from the loo roll to the kleenex for visitors.

you didn't know if there was life without jaemin- he was like a part of your soul, the owner of your heart. not for the first time, you wondered what you could have done to make him back away. were you not pretty enough? were you boring? too sensitive? whatever. all you knew was that you were never recovering from this.

as you clutched your aching head, you heard a faint tap on the window. you ignored it, and continued to rock back and forth in vexation. the tap came again, and again. you stopped, uncovering your head, and looked towards the window. before your eyes, a pebble bounced off the glass. fury replaced your demeanour as you hopped out of bed and strode to the window, ready to scream at the cheeky youths who had chosen your house to be the target of a childish game. you opened the windows so hard that they almost flew off their hinges, and glared down, preparing to scream all the swear words you knew.

“you weren't answering the door!”

jaemin looked up, a smile spreading on his face as he raised one hand in a half wave. his other hand was holding a small bouquet of roses. when he saw you looking at them, he tried to conceal them behind his back. “go and do one,” you shouted, your eyes brimming with tears. “is this seriously the best you can do? after abandoning me, you turn up at my doorstep and try to break my windows?”

“y/n, i-” “-you'd have to use something a lot bigger than that, though, so that wasn't a good attempt. if you're here with those flowers to show me that you've already pulled another girl, then you can fuck right off!” a lady walking her dog on the opposite side of the pavement stopped, mouth agape. jaemin glanced behind him and saw her staring. “it's not a show,” he said, gesturing her off. once she'd left, he looked back up at you. “can i explain, please?” he said. you took a deep breath to stable yourself. “if you want to say anything, say it right now.”

jaemin pulled the flowers from behind his back. “i was wrong, y/n. i messed up so badly, and i hurt you. i thought that i wasn't ready for a relationship, but in reality, all i needed was to take some time alone.” he held up the roses. “can we start again, please?” your heart melted into a waxy puddle right then, but your rational self wanted to prove a point. “it's going to take a lot more than an poxy bunch of flowers to get me running back your way.” jaemin opened his arms wide. “then i’ll do whatever it takes to make things right again.” a smile spread across your face.

“alright. i'll be down to open the door in a minute.”

○○○

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taglist: @cigsaftersuh @jenoleeaesthetic @pl4netx1a @jeonghansshitester @herjaemin @chenlezip

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[bumblehoneybee]

Soooo may I request something?

After Angel fixes the generator, they immediately go plant the explosives in the foundation.

What if Dogday, Catnap and Cherub stayed back in safe haven to try and protect the toys and blew up as well? :D

Tonight, Let's Go Out With A Bang

TW: death, descriptions of death, death of a child

It was Cherub who put thoughts into words, whispered in your ear as you stopped to survey your surroundings, find a way past all the debris.

"I don't think Doey trusts us." They said, hushed and uncertain. "Any of us."

You knew he didn't trust you, not fully. How could he? You were part of the system that made him this. You killed countless of the little critters now scurrying out of your way, fearful of the commander of the beasts that roamed what was once their home.

Worst of all, you brought such a beast into the walls of his Safe Haven. A place meant to be free of monsters, but you knew, knew behind the lopsided smile and dreamy little voice, Doey was realizing he let in a pack of wolves to guard his frightened flock.

It was hard to circumvent the damage done by those before, to tread lightly passed landmines buried long before your arrival. You tried your best, offering to go alone into the world, to take on the Doctor and to plant the charges where Poppy indicated.

Oh, your friends protested, Dogday especially.

"I won't let you go off to die." He growled, tucked away with you in a small tent.

"Cherub needs you more than I do right now." You argued back, sending sharp glances to the little eyes peeking through the flaps of your flimsy shelter. They scatter, their hushed voices making guilt sear through your insides at the thoughts of the others, all lying burnt above. "Catnap can't be left alone either, and you know it. Out of all of us, Doey and the critters trust you the most. You here to supervise is what we need while I take care of the rest."

Dogday began to shift his weight around, how he usually did when you left to where he couldn't follow. "Can't Catnap go with you then?"

"Doey would probably feel better if Catnap were here, able to be watched over." You replied easily. "We know he won't attack, but Doey doesn't. He'll be more assured with Catnap in his line of sight, or at least in the line of sight of the others."

Dogday huffed, then a low, mourning whine rose up from the depths of his throat. "Angel. . ."

"I'll be quick." You promised him, stroking your hand down the side of his face. He leaned into the touch. "And I'll come back. I always do."

"You always do." He sighed. "Just. . . be careful."

"I always am." You said with a wink. Dogday rolled his eyes, but went back into the Safe Haven. Critters scurried after him, all smiles and relieved voices, making you swallow hard. You waited a moment, gathering yourself, then went out of your tent towards your first assignment.

The pieces fell into place as they always did. Before you realized, the charges were set in the foundation, laid down by your hands, covered in the blood of the Doctor, of the other poor souls lost to the insanity of isolation, starvation, and hell.

You tried to tell yourself it was for the best. This was the plan Poppy had come up with, and you trusted Poppy. Sure, Doey's doubt made you wonder if there wasn't another way, but Poppy. . . Poppy had spent far longer than you considering all of these things.

After a harrowing escape from the foundation and it's deadly gas, you find yourself caught in the cold grip of clay.

"Doey-!?" You rasped, breathless and frightened of what was to come.

"The Prototype," Doey replied, scanning the area around you, like he was hiding in the stalagmites, "I lost track of him in the tunnels. Have you seen him? Was he at the Foundation? Or was he. . ."

Doey trailed off, staring up at the darkness that hung over your heads. You tried to follow his gaze, but there was nothing around. Everything was still. . . too still.

"What's going on?" Doey asked, a hand to his cheek. He looked to you, but you were as helpless as he was. "I led him away, didn't I? The generator's fine, it's-"

The explosion barely rocked Doey, but it sent you down to your knees. Pain ripped through you, though it was easily ignored as you watched rocks and ash rain down.

That wasn't. . . No, that wasn't right. . .

Doey left you there, struggling to get your feet beneath you. They didn't want to cooperate, shaky and leaden, refusing to move. But you made them, one foot in front of the other. It was slow, it was painful, but you made your way over the tracks, over the vats, down the elevator, back towards Safe Haven.

The sewers were too quiet.

Until they weren't.

Doey's raw scream had your legs working again. You threw off the GrabPack, sprinting down the tunnels towards Safe Haven. Ash choked the air, burned your lungs and eyes, but you pushed through it.

There was. . . fluff on the floor.

You stalled at the atrium.

Everything was on fire. Destroyed.

Your eyes flickered towards center stalls.

There was purple fur spread about in patches, burning steadily.

You turned towards a familiar tent, now crushed.

A pair of legs laid beneath collapsed concrete, clutched by an orange arm.

You took a step backwards. Then another. Then another.

Static ran through your mind, thoughts unable to form as you tried to focus on something, anything. Everywhere you looked merely made the static grow stronger.

Doey was saying something. He was getting bigger, louder, towering over you and howling something to the stars so far above, so far away. But you were both underground, too far away. There were no stars down here, only supernovas and their aftermaths.

You gaze up into sharp, red teeth, shoulders slumping, and you put your head into the lion's maw for him to bite down.

Anything to stop what would no doubt come and drown you.

[songsofadelaide]

"And now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned, screaming 'But Daddy I love him!'. I'm having his baby— No, I'm not, but you should see your faces. I'm telling him to floor it through the fences... No, I'm not coming to my senses. I know he's crazy but he's the one I want."

Continuation of this piece.

Growing up with a supermodel mother meant it was only a matter of time before he was thrust into the spotlight as well. Satoru knew that much from the moment he was able to think for himself. He wasn't the daughter his mother pined for, but she loved him so, so much because he was just as pretty as she always hoped for. She only stopped working a short while after giving birth before launching herself head-on to more and more modelling gigs until her previous natural rhythm returned.

And when his mother started bringing him along to her stints like a little pet puppy to be fawned over, he learned to weaponize his pretty blue eyes so similar to hers and won the hearts of the photography crew— all just by playfully batting his feathery lashes at them.

Sometimes he regrets playing into his mother's hands like that, but like any other kid who loved seeing their mother happy, he easily agreed to every simple gig she booked for him. It started small at first— posing with her for magazine photoshoots until they became full-blown endorsements for kids' milk, toys, children's clothes... and eventually, the runway, too. Articles have been written about him even before he had a better grasp at reading, hailing him as the son of modelling royalty.

Sometimes he dreamed of a more normal life for himself. A life where his mother retired from modelling early and married into a quiet family. Her best friend did just that exactly and was completely happy with her life at present...

But no, his mother married into a wealthy family of old money and thought it was only fitting since she was a well-sought-after treasure. How narcissistic, Satoru can't help but think to himself at times. For someone whose only redeeming factor was her physical appearance— which declined in age— his mother was incredibly self-absorbed. Sometimes he wonders if he will grow up to be just like her.

He hopes not.

Because there were nights he and his mother were simply normal people, not supermodels on top of the world. She was just his mother, not supermodel Arisu Gojo. On those nights, his mother was allowed a bit more sweet wine than what was usually allowed. On those nights, he was just a kid playing house with the child of his mother's best friend in the entire world. On those nights, there was you, his only friend outside the modelling world and entertainment industry, and you were his favorite, too, just like how his mother adored yours.

Oh, Satoru adored you, all right. He realized as he grew older that he was incredibly similar to his mother in terms of being spoiled rotten. He grew into his image as the nation's sweetheart, an affable public figure who charmed everyone he encountered, but reared a whole other person whenever his family had its regular wine and dines with yours. He would march into your room like it was the most natural thing and demand you drop whatever it was you were doing because Satoru the star was in the house(!).

And surprisingly, you agreed with everything he said because you liked him just as much. Just as you were his favorite friend, he was yours.

You somewhat felt sorry for him since he didn't have the conventional childhood like you did, but seeing him having the time of his life on print ads and TV commercials, you thought he had fun on his own terms, too. At school, you would hear your female classmates gush at how perfect the nation's sweetheart was, and it instilled in you a sick sense of twisted pride at knowing him personally— who he was behind the glamorous scenes— and how terribly spoiled he was by your family.

When your classmates at school once asked what you thought about him, you played it cool by saying, "He's okay, I guess..." Only for that "okay" guy to be in your bedroom that very night asking for head pats because "the photoshoots are turning into a real drag!".

Your classmates didn't have to know the whole thing.

As you two grew older, the time you spent together grew less and less. Words even fewer. Until it all came to a head when you turned sixteen and Satoru pushed you away so hard that you held back tears. He didn't know what came over him back then, but he stopped coming over to your room afterwards. You figured he had already outgrown the setup. You two were teenagers now, for pity's sake. You would've accepted that as fact if he spoke about it, but his vanishing act left you perplexed.

Only he didn't vanish. He was everywhere— on the cover of popular teen magazines, that soda commercial on TV, fronting promotional material for high-end clothing and expensive mobile phones on social media... He's the son of modelling royalty, after all. For the last three years, he accepted project after project after project and still went on those shared family dinners like nothing happened between you two.

But there was something. He knew his old man meant well when he spoke about propriety between the two of you, but he didn't just like you as a friend at this point. Those dinners weren't complete for him without seeing your face, regardless of whether or not you hated him for leaving you so puzzled. So when you stopped showing up or heading down later than usual, he knew he had to do something.

"...ask Toru to call her downstairs! I haven't seen that girl for quite some time now! Has she been..."

"...with university lately. There's this boy, too. Her classmate, I think..."

The older women's conversation faded in his head the moment your mother mentioned a boy— a classmate— and just how close the two of you have grown while you were in university. Good grief. He couldn't handle it. He couldn't.

You were supposed to be his.

He made his way to your room upstairs, ready to speak about how the last three years were torment— About how his father's bullshit called him out because it was clear to the old man that his son looked at his friend differently now—

Then he heard them. The faintest of whimpers from your bedroom. And if he was right in his head, his name left your lips, too.

He wasn't going to let go of this.

You opened your bedroom door with your face still flushed and your clothes all rumpled, and you nearly shut him out in panic if he didn't wedge his foot in your door. "Wait a moment. I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

He stepped in, only because you allowed him to, and the sound of your door locking behind you was muted as you busily smoothed out your clothes.

"What do you want to talk about, Satoru?"

Ouch. You used to call him Toru with the sweetest voice. The way you said his name now made his heart clench uncomfortably, almost like it physically hurt him.

"I missed you."

???

"The hell are you saying? After... after that... Are you serious right now? You ignored me for the last three years and come back with that?" You raised your voice at him, but only enough for the two of you to hear. "You can't come back here and tell me you missed me because the last time you were here, you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me. Friends don't leave friends wondering... what the hell did I ever do to you?"

"For the record, I don't see you as a friend," he stated point-blank, holding your gaze with the intensity of a lightning bolt that struck a pole of electricity, setting everything around it on fire. "I mean... You always were, but I think I've made it clear lots of times that I see you as more."

More than a friend? Were you hearing him right? Satoru— Ridiculously handsome, gorgeous, stunning— the nation's sweetheart and every girl's object of affection— saw you as more than a friend?

Here he was standing before you, six feet of good-looking, silvery hair and feather-like lashes, fumbling for words and grasping for an apology to give that's far too late, but maybe it arrived just on time for you. You never hated him, anyway. How could you?

When you yearned for him just as much.

"I'm sorry. I was so scared that it would be the last, so I just... I don't know. My reasons are shit. But that was my mistake, especially when you started pulling away from me. I—"

"If you're really sorry..." You said as you took a bold step toward him, obviously catching him off guard as you closed the distance between you. "Then prove it."

You're going to take what's yours. Without so much of an effort, too, by the way he willingly opened his arms to receive you the moment you walked right in.

Needless to say, Satoru breaks the internet by posting a sweet photo with his non-showbiz girlfriend.

His fans lose their shit the moment it was posted, everyone trying to verify its veracity and authenticity. His agency and PR team wrestled to regain control of his favorite social media account, where he's posted photo after photo with you, one of which was captioned, "Since '06.". The internet sleuths attempt to trough through the mystery of your identity and where the hell you came from after all these years. Articles were written about your relationship, the speculations about your identity ranging from realistic to outright stupid.

Analysis videos were discussing his behavior around his fellow models, which started circulating on the internet, detailed how he always kept an acceptable and respectful distance from them. They all concluded that it was because of his unknown girlfriend.

Your university classmates were equally baffled that your unassuming person had that kind of relationship with the nation's sweetheart, but that was all. You were immune to the occasional murmured assumption about who you were and didn't really care what they thought. Many of them just wanted to get their degree and get things done and you agreed with that, too.

For Satoru, the cherry on top was his mother posting on her social media account, doubling down on his decision to publicize his relationship, which she excitedly and readily accepted because she loved you as her own, too. She posted an old photograph featuring her holding her then three-year-old son peering into the crib of a baby girl— and in that photograph was a face familiar to many of his mother's fans.

Your mother had a pretty good following in her youth, too, but when she chose the quiet life, she left all of it behind— and when you asked her about it, she said she did what she wanted and she wouldn't change a thing— imploring you to do the same thing, too.

"Oh, so you think the world is a much better place with me in it?" Satoru asked you teasingly, head on your lap as he absentmindedly scrolled through his social media.

"I think you should shut up," you retorted, tugging at his hair ever so slightly. "Your fans still haven't forgiven you, you know."

"The real ones will know that you make me happy. Let the fake ones can keep on barking," he shrugged at your statement. "And the real ones know by now that you were always meant to be in my world."

"Because Aunt Arisu begged my mother to give you a playmate," you chuckled at his statement. "So much for playmates."

"What? Isn't this better?"

You smiled to yourself, humming as you ran your fingers through his hair, like time was never lost to you two.

Yes. Yes, it is.

[bun-z-bakery]

Drunken Daze

Pairing. Nanami Kento x GN!Reader Warnings/Tags. Co-Workers to lovers, fluff, drinking/alcohol, suggestive, Drunken confessions

Words. 1,377

A/N. Helloooo!! i've been wanting to write something for kento for a while so I hope you enjoy! Also! This was posted earlier on my Ko-fi so check that out if you want! :3

Various Menu | Works Menu | Ao3 | Kofi

You and Kento have been friends for a while now. It was strange getting to know the man. At first, you thought he hated you. He was silent, always with his nose deep into his work, never one for work parties or get-togethers. Your mutual friend Gojo would often need to drag him out of his shell, but his demeanor would change as soon as you entered the room. 

Which is why setting foot into his home and sitting next to him, drinking the wine you had brought, felt so strange. This was a scenario you could only daydream of. 

Your conversation and drinking went on well into the night. He wasn't one for drinking such cheap alcohol. It was all you had on hand, yet, for some reason, he had agreed to it. 

"Man, this sucks. I'm sorry, Nanami." He lets out a low chuckle, swirling the wine before taking another sip. 

"No worries. I'm just glad you brought yourself along. Also, just call me Kento." He takes another sip. You stare at him with a raised brow, drinking in his features. You notice a blush adorned on his cheeks. He was drunk. 

"Kento, should we call it a night?" You were about to put your glass down, but he poured some more wine into your cup and his. Sloppily, he placed the bottle down before he spoke. 

"I don't want this night to end." Was this even the same man you spoke to an hour ago? 

"Kento—" he cuts you off. 

"You're so perfect in my eyes. How can anyone be so perfect? Maybe you're just a dream. Maybe this is all a dream. I'll drink myself to death if it is." 

"Kento, I think we've had enough for the night." Carefully, you take the glass from his hand and place it on the coffee table. Before you can sit properly, he catches your hand and holds it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. 

You weren't sure what was going through his head, but you had been longing for the blond for oh so long. You weren't even sure if it was a dream yourself. Kento was a heavy drinker—one of the two needed to cut back on the drinks. Even with less alcohol than him in your system, you couldn't help but wonder if the reason why he was so distant in the first place was due to his feelings for you. 

"No. I've adored you from afar for too long." Even through his glasses, you could tell his hazel eyes were glossy. You knew alcohol had such effects on people, yet you never thought you'd see the day you'd have a drunken man confess to you in his own home. 

He raises a hand and ghosts your cheek. You can feel the warmth radiating from his hand; you want to melt into his palm. "May I?" you nod in response. 

"Words, darling." A blush creeps onto your face as you glance down at your hands, unable to make eye contact. 

"Yes, you may." 

With your confirmation, he touches your cheek, stroking it with his thumb, then down to your lips. 

"Kiss me." You were sure of your decision. However, he still asked,

"Are you sure? We can stop this now if you wish." 

"I'm positive, Kento." 

Without another word, his lips crash into yours. You can taste the sweet wine on his tongue as you melt into the kiss. His hands never touch your body. Instead, you move his hands to your shoulders, giving him silent approval for his hands to roam your body. With your approval, he slowly began to explore your body, mindful never to go to areas that might make you uncomfortable. 

Kento breaks the kiss and holds you close. 

"Stay," he whispers. 

"You're too drunk to drive. I'll sleep on the couch." 

You didn't want to argue with the drunk man, so you agreed. He was right. You were too drunk to even see straight. 

Before you knew it, you were hovering over the couch in Kento's arms. Carefully and wobbly, he carried you to his bed and gently placed you down, but he collapsed next to you. 

"Ken?" soft snoring was your response. You could feel his warm breath on your neck as he held onto you. You chuckled and stroked his hair. It didn't take long to drift off to his soft snores. 

In the morning, you find yourself wrapped in not one but two blankets, surrounded by pillows. You figured Kento must have been worried about your comfort and went overboard with the pillows. 

Your nose is hit with the smell of something delicious. Rising out of Kento's bed and making your way to the kitchen with a yawn, you see him in shorts and a wrinkled white T-shirt. 

"Good morning, darling. I made us breakfast." Your head begins to sting, and you are very hungover. Kento seemed to catch on.

"Drink that, and you'll feel as good as new," Kento says, gesturing to a cup filled with what you assume is a hangover remedy. Taking a deep breath, you approach the counter, bracing yourself for the taste. As you gulp it down, you cringe at the flavor and cough. 

"Oh, that's disgusting." 

"That's how you know it works," he points to you with the spatula before plating food for you and him. 

At the table, breakfast was silent. It wasn't until he spoke up that the air became tense. 

Your heart wanted to leap out of its chest. 

"I know we've already slept in the same bed." he cleared his throat, thinning his lips at his actions before he continued. 

"But I would like to take you on a date. If that's alright?" It sounded more like a demand than a question. Kento had his sights set on you. It was more evident now than ever. 

"I would love that, Ken." A slight red tint adorned his face at the mention of the nickname. He smiled and said, "Tomorrow, be ready by 8, and don't forget to wear your gift." 

He whips out his phone. You assume he's bought you something to wear. 

You weren't even official, and the man was already spoiling you. As breakfast came to an end, a comfortable silence filled the room. Kento's gaze lingered on you, and you couldn't help but smile at what tomorrow would bring.

Just as the clock turned 8, a knock was on your door. "Coming!" you shouted, ensuring you looked decent in the outfit Kento had gifted you. 

You open the door, revealing a well-put-together Kento standing with flowers and a slim black box with a beautiful gold ribbon in his hands. "Look at you! I knew you'd look absolutely stunning in that." Your cheeks heat up as you step aside, letting him into your home. You take the flowers and set them in a cup of water on the counter. They were a stunning red with smaller white ones and smelled wonderful. 

"Ready for your other surprise?" 

He holds out the slim black box. 

"Ken, you don't need to do all this for me." 

You kiss his cheek, 

"You're right. I didn't have to do this, but I want to. Every day, you will feel loved and cherished, know that." Little did you know he was serious about this, serious about you. He would do anything and everything to prove it. He didn't plan on losing you, not after secretly pining after you for so long. 

He opens the box, revealing a gold necklace that is too fancy to wear on a regular day yet matches the outfit perfectly. He must've been planning this from the start. You laugh quietly to yourself as you turn around, letting him out the necklace on you. His hands are warm and gentle. 

Once he's finished, carefully hold the gem between your fingers. "It's beautiful, Ken," you say, taking his hand and giving it a slight squeeze, earning a smile from him.

"I'm thrilled that you like it. We should get going now. You'll love what I have planned." 

His gaze lingers on you as you speak. 

"I'm excited to see what you have planned." 

Right then and there, he knew you were already his.

A/N. Thanks for reading! I love Kento so much he's just iwbiwbrbvi okay bye bye!

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

i loved that you talked about each dick in great detail and i won't judge u cuz i constantly wonder about rockstars & their dicks. THEY HAD GROUPIES AND I WANTED SO FUCKWING BAD THAT ONE OF THEM TALKED ABOUT HOW BIG THEY ARE OR WHAT THEY DO DURING SEX. LIKE, DO THEY HAVE SOME WEIRD ASS KINK???? WHAT DO THEY DO??? ughhhhhwgsusgahs.

But i'm going to talk about my theories on the size of Guns N Roses members dicks. I'LL START WITH DUFF BECAUSE U SAID HE MUST BE BIG but i always thought about him being like, a little below average(?) HEAR ME OUT. i read on some fucked up website that said that normally men who are taller can have small dicks and that stuck with me. Obviously not all tall men have small dicks, but I've seen dicks from guys who are tall and they're kind of small. so i think maybe it's about 4/5 centimeters. i believe his dick is SLIGHTLY thin, with a very thick tip, you know?

About Axl, I agree with you, he must be about 3 or 5 centimeters but I think his dick is slightly thin but veiny asf. Like, his dick isn't thinner than Duff's but it's not less, I think he would be a little more thicker than Duff's dick. (I also think he's very sensitive, like, just a small touch on his dick, it doesn't matter if it's not on the tip, would make him completely sensitive.)

AND I'M SORRY, BUT I THINK THAT SLASH IS KIND OF SMALL TOO. I think he has 5 centimeters but he makes up for it because he must have a thick & veiny dick. (Nothing to do with size, but I wanted to say that his tip probably turn into a deep shade of red when he's very horny.) I also imagine his dick must be hidden in his pubic hair. NOT THAT IT'S A BAD THING, I love Slash and would love to suck his dick JUST GIVE ME ONE CHANCE AAAAAAWHWHWGWOWVOWBAA.

Now Izzy, i believe he is a little bigger. Like, i imagine it being about 6/7 centimeters, for some reason. His dick must be really thin and his tip too. I EVEN IMAGINE HIS DICK IS A KIND OF CROOKED(IDK WHICH WORD TO USE OK BEAR WITH ME I'M NOT A ENGLISH SPEAKER) TO THE RIGHT OR LEFT LMAO

NOW WE ARRIVED AT MY DEAR AND LOVED STEVEN. he must have a good 5 centimeters, just like Slash. HOWEVER, IT MUST BE THICK. AND LISTEN TO ME WHEN I SAY THICK BECAUSE I THINK IT MUST BE THICKER THAN SLASH'S COCK. He also probably has a lot of pubic hair (have you ever seen Steven's chest? It's covered in hair yummy yummy 🤤🤤) BUT I THINK BECAUSE HE'S "SMALL", HE USES HIS FINGERS SO HE CAN MAKE THE PERSON WHO HE'S FUCKING, COME FASTER.

I'M SORRY IF I SOUND LIKE A WEIRD ASS ANON, BUT I ALWAYS THINK ABOUT IT. If I was a groupie in the 80s I would have DROWNED ON THEIR DICKS. ugh life's so unfair I'm gonna really roll on the floor and cry for 30 minutes.

I meant to respond to this so much sooner but never got around to it and then I thought I deleted it by accident but didn't apparently

I will leave this here now but I will say, I think you meant inches instead of centimetres? You said English wasn't your first language so understandable but five centimetres is only two inches, your English is great but just that little thing and I will leave this here for my gooners to read and analyze

[klutzyroses]

Hihi! I hope you’re having a lovely day and that you’re well! I was wondering if you could do a part 2 of the jealous suitors where the MC has a lover, but in this scenario what if her and her lover broke up due to him cheating on her and how the suitors would react?

Thank you very much!

And I hope you're having a great day too! Enjoy!

IkeVamp HCs: Reader gets Cheated on

How do they react when the when the woman they love has an unfaithful partner?- Follow up to this hc.

Suitors: Leonardo, Mozart, Arthur, Comte

Leonardo

His first thought was to comfort his cara mia.

Well, not his and he couldn't think about that anyway, not while her heart was so freshly broken.

You know what he meant.

When he found her sat in the backyard, curled up with Lumiere and crying into his black fur, he knew there was no leaving her alone.

When he heard the reason for her tears, he didn't give the cheater another thought. She was the only one who mattered to him. He wasn't happy but he also wasn't going to waste even an ounce of energy being angry about him.

He rather focused on seeing her less hurt, less broken down.

"Take it easy, cara mia. Don't get so down on yourself. Those pretty eyes aren't for sad tears."

He patted her head as his deep voice uttered soft reassurances. He'd hate for her to overlook how precious she was because of a selfish man who couldn't see it.

Mozart

Part of him was darkly satisfied that he was right all along. That man was not good enough for her after all.

But the majority of him is coldly angry that he would dare treat her that way.

Say what you will of Mozart, but loyalty was important to him in a relationship. He couldn't understand the prospect of being unfaithful to the woman you supposedly loved.

Why did the fool even bother with her if he was going to wander like this? How classless.

He, with more gentility than his words usually offered, sat her down and helped her clean her face.

She was too beautiful for tears, though he was not going to tell her that.

"Don't waste your tears. Not on him."

Seeing her upset hurt him, his love for her, hidden as it was, didn't permit him to leave her like this.

Arthur

When he heard what happened, his heart sunk down to his stomach.

He once thought this was what he wanted, deep down in the darker recesses of his being.

Somewhere in him, and he was not proud to admit this, but he was hoping for Y/N's boyfriend to mess up in some way, any kind of way.

He was sorry he ever thought that as soon as he saw her tearstained face.

His sunken heart cracked when she looked him in the eye and asked her if there was something wrong with her. Why she wasn't enough for her ex.

The only thing on his mind now was to make her feel better. Make her realize that the tosser was the one who lost. Not her.

"Oh Y/N, what rotter would ever let you go? He is a right wanker, mark my words."

He wiped a tear from her lovely face, his own set with certainty and compassion for the woman he still loved.

Comte

He ached when she poured her heart out to him over a cup of tea.

When Comte found out that her boyfriend had cheated on her, he was shocked.

He couldn't fathom how any man could look at another when he had Y/N. Inexplicable.

His emotions were less focused on the man, but more on her and her wellbeing.

Yes, he was galled by the audacity of the scoundrel and he had better hope they never crossed paths, but at the moment, she was his priority. Because nothing hurt more than seeing her hurt, her beautiful face red and damp with tears of shame and humiliation.

He would give her the sun and moon wrapped in a bright red bow if it would make her feel better.

"Let me show you how you ought to be treated, ma cherie."

He knew material items couldn't substitute for love, but he wanted to spoil her, treat her like the queen she truly was.

🌸

[hopingforrainydays]

a game of hearts | d. malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

warnings: angst, heartbreak, not a happy ending

word count: 2.2k

summary: the four times you rejected draco, and the one time you didn't (and you really should've)

author’s note: this one has been cooking for a while, i apologize in advance for the heartbreak

masterlist

requests are open!

--

I.

"Come with me to Hogsmeade."

You didn't bother to look up from your book. "No."

Draco Malfoy stood in front of you, arms crossed, expression caught between amusement and mild irritation. His platinum hair was perfectly combed and his uniform was impeccable. The very image of effortless arrogance.

He moved to sit beside you, and you opened your mouth to protest, but it was too late. He lounged against the library chair, arm draped across your own.

"You could at least pretend to consider it," he said, frowning. His gaze held your own. Bright eyes glittered with mischief.

You forced yourself to look away, back to your book, and flipped a page. "I could, but I won't."

His friends were watching from a distance. You could hear them whispering, snickering. You wondered how much they bet on this attempt, how much they thought you're worth nothing more than a joke.

Draco huffed, muttered something about you being impossible, and stalked off. You didn't watch him leave, but you heard Pany's laughter as she linked his arm through his. A game, you reminded yourself. That's all you were to them.

II.

Again, he caught you in the library. Though caught was a strong word, as you were prone to spending most of your time there. It wasn't difficult to track you down.

"You're not even giving me a chance."

"You don't deserve one."

Draco's lips twitched, his ever-present smirk flickering like a candle about to go out. "That's harsh. Even for you."

You leaned back in your chair, tilting your head. "You think I don't notice? The way your little entourage watches whenever you try this? You're amusing them, Malfoy. I don't exist for your entertainment."

His face fell. Just for a second. Then that smirk is back, but you saw the moment of hesitation. It lingered in the air between you, unspoken.

"That's not—"

"Save it." You gathered your things and left before he could finish. The weight of his stare followed you all the way out.

III.

"You know, you could bother some other girl for a change. I'm sure she'd kill for your attention," you said as you picked at your food with a fork.

The great hall bustled around you, and your eyes tried to catch anyone else's in a plea for help. But the only reason they looked your way in the first place was because Draco Malfoy, of all people, was sat at the empty corner of the table with you.

His elbow was propped against the table, his full body turned to you.

He grinned, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I don't want any other girl."

There was something different in his voice this time. The usual arrogance was there, but it was layered beneath something else—something softer. You hesitated for a fraction of a second, and you hated that you did. You hated that your heart stuttered, just a little, because this time it almost sounded like he meant it.

You sat up, suddenly, pushing the tray of food away from you. He looked as though he might protest, but you were quick to leave your seat. You refused to entertain the notion that there was something genuine in his voice.

IV.

"Do you even like me?"

Draco blinked. "What?"

You crossed your arms. "You've asked me out four times now. Why? What do you get out of this?"

He hesitated. Just for a second. But you saw it.

"I think you're interesting," he said eventually.

You hummed. He thought you were interesting, a word used by most other students to kindly tell you that they thought you were strange, weird, or different.

"Interesting," you repeat, voice flat.

"I'd call you absolutely enchanting, but I'm afraid you'd hit me," he joked.

You didn't laugh. Instead, you stared at him. He stared back. And there it was, that look. Eyes wide and genuine, he looked too honest for your comfort.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you turned and walked away.

V.

The day you said yes, Draco looked stunned. Like he hadn't actually expected it to happen. Like he had forgotten why he started asking you in the first place.

It happened in the courtyard, under the brittle light of a late autumn afternoon. You were leaning against the stone wall, arms folded, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he approached yet again. But you hadn't been waiting for him, no.

His confidence was intact, as always, but you could tell from the way he fidgeted with the cuff of his sleeve that something about this game had changed.

"You again," you said dryly, before he could open his mouth.

Draco smirked. "You'd miss me too much if I stopped."

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched. "Doubtful."

There was a moment where he hesitated, as if he was weighing whether to press forward or retreat, and for some reason, that hesitation was what made you say it.

"Alright," you said. His brows furrowed in confusion. "I'll go out with you."

The silence stretched between you. His mouth opened slightly before he caught himself, schooling his expression into something far too neutral, too careful.

"You will?" he asked. He didn't quite believe it.

You tilted your head, studying him. "That's what you wanted...wasn't it?"

Draco recovered quickly, flashing a smirk that was almost too sharp. "Of course it is."

He said it as though this was some kind of victory, but you saw the flicker of something else in his eyes—doubt, uncertainty, maybe even regret. But he only extended a hand, palm up, waiting.

You stared at it for a second before sighing and slipping your fingers into his. It felt like stepping off a ledge.

Your relationship began like an accident. It didn't feel real at first—just something to occupy your time between classes, between studying, between moments of solitude. He sat with you at meals. Walked with you in the halls. Quieted his laughter when his friends made jokes at your expense.

And you—

You started to like him.

You're not sure when it happened. Maybe it was the time he snuck out past curfew just to bring you hot cocoa from the kitchens when you were studying late. Maybe it was the way he defended you—subtly, never outright, but you saw the way his shoulders stiffened when someone made an offhanded remark about you. Maybe it was how he listened when you talked, really listened, instead of waiting for his turn to speak.

You never thought Draco Malfoy capable of sincerity. But then he touched our wrist one evening by the lake, his fingers barely brushing against yours, and you thought, maybe, just maybe, this hadn't been a game at all. At least, not anymore.

You had been wrong about him.

One evening, curled up in the corner of the Slytherin common room, you found yourself laughing at something Draco said. It wasn't sharp, or bitter, or forced. It was real, warm. Unguarded. And the way he looked at you in that moment—like he wanted to bottle the sound and keep it—made your heart ache in a way you didn't quite understand.

"What?" you asked, because he hadn't looked away.

Draco blinked, startled, as if caught in something he wasn't meant to feel. "Nothing," he said, but his voice was softer than usual, the smirk on his lips almost absent.

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes playfully. "You're staring."

"So?" His fingers brushed yours on the armrest between you, the touch so fleeting you almost think you imagined it. "Maybe I like looking at you."

Your breath caught, but you shoved down the flustered feeling. You rolled your eyes. "You're ridiculous."

"And you like it."

You shoved his shoulder lightly, and he laughed. Really laughed. For a second, you allowed yourself to believe that whatever this was, it was real. That he felt it too.

But then he grew distant.

He still walked beside you, still laughed at your biting remarks, still met you in the library when you claimed you didn't need the company. But he was quieter now, his eyes shadowed in a way you didn't understand. Sometimes, when he thought you weren't looking he watched you like he was waiting for something, some inevitable moment that only he knew was coming.

It was late into the night, and as you sat together in the empty Astronomy Tower, you decided you were tired of the distance.

"Draco," you said, shifting to face him. "What's wrong?"

He startled slightly, as if pulled from some faraway thought. "Nothing."

"Liar."

He exhaled sharply, a hint of a smirk curving his lips. "You're always ready to call me out, aren't you?"

"Someone has to."

There was a beat of silence, thick and weighted. Then, as if compelled by something neither of you could name, he leaned in.

And you let him.

His lips brushed against yours, hesitant at first, then more certain, more desperate. Like he was trying to memorize the feeling, to carve it into his skin before it was too late. Your fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself as the world narrowed down to this—just this.

When you parted, his breath was unsteady. So was yours.

"You’re different with me," you murmured.

Draco swallowed hard, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. "I know."

And for a moment, you thought he might've told you why.

But he didn't.

--

It happened in the corridor outside of the common room. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, but the voices were loud, and his name caught your attention before you could stop yourself.

"Alright, Draco, joke’s over. You’ve won. When are you finally going to end it?"

You froze.

Draco didn't answer right away. You couldn't see his expression, but you heard his hesitation, thick in the silence that followed.

"Draco?"

"I—"

"Oh, don't tell me you're actually enjoying this?" Blaise snickered. "Come on, mate, the bet was for a month. You've won."

Your stomach dropped. The world tilted. You didn't stay to hear the rest. You didn't need to.

You didn't remember walking there. The corridors blurred past you, torches flickering like distant stars, the weight of your heartbeat so loud it drowned out everything else. It pounded in your ears, your throat, in the spaces between your ribs. It threatened to tear your apart from the inside out.

Draco found you there, in the Astronomy Tower.

Of course he did.

It was where you kissed him for the first time. Where you sat with him in quiet companionship. Where you, despite your better judgment, let yourself believe that this—whatever this was—meant something.

But it didn't. It never did.

"Hey," he greeted, hesitant, cautious, as if he already knew something was wrong. As if he could feel the fury curling off you in waves. "What are you doing up here?"

You turned to face him, slowly, and the sight of him—his pale, sharp features, the stormy eyes you once thought held secrets only for you—made your stomach twist.

The silence grew thick. His brows furrowed, lips parting slightly, waiting.

And then, voice cold, steady, deadly, you said, "When were you going to tell me?"

He stilled. "Tell you what?"

You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. "Don't. Don't play stupid, Draco. Not now."

His throat bobbed. "I—"

"I heard them." The confession hung between you, heavy as a curse. "Pansy. Blaise. Your little entourage. I heard them asking when you'd finally break it off."

Draco's expression cracked, the faintest flicker of panic in his eyes. "I—"

"A month, Draco." Your voice trembled, but not with sorrow. With rage. "That's all I was to you. A game. A bet."

"No—" He stepped forward, and you took a step back. His face twisted as if you struck him. "It wasn't like that. Not—Not anymore."

You laughed, bitter. "Not anymore?" The words were acid on your tongue. "So when did it change, then? When did I stop being a joke?"

Draco looked at you like he didn't know what to say. Like there was no right answer. Because there wasn't one.

The worst part is that you wanted to believe him. Even now. Even after everything.

You wanted him to tell you it wasn't a lie. That every touch, every stolen glance, every whispered conversation in the dark meant something. That he meant it when he kissed, when he brushed his fingers against your skin like he was memorizing the shape of you.

But you knew better. You had always known better.

And yet, you still let yourself be fooled.

"You should have told me," you whispered. "From the beginning."

Draco exhaled, raking a hand through his hair. Frustration bled through his features. "I didn't know how." His voice was raw, unguarded in a way you had never heard before. "I tried—I wanted to stop. But then you—" He faltered. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

You inhaled sharply, and forced down the sting behind your eyes. "For what to happen?" Your voice was hoarse. "For me to fall for you? Or for you to fall for me?"

He didn't answer. And that told you everything you needed to know.

You took another step back, toward the stairs, toward the door, toward anywhere that wasn't here.

"I'm done, Draco." The words hurt. Merlin, did they hurt. But you refused to let him see it. "We're done."

His face crumbled. "Please—"

But you didn't stay to hear the rest. It didn't matter. Not anymore.

--

buy me a coffee

[fadelbison]

Now that you mentioned it please the first thing I thought when I saw First as Kant was that they would push him into a straight series especially with him previously being in multiple het shows. I at least saw 2 reactors thinking c4c was het show before khao was introduced. But First with all his new antics is definitely helping their cp to become more popular too especially in the thai side. They are both good actors and they have pretty good role selection and already having a stable fandom would do them wonders in the industry

I would say even three years ago pushing First into straight roles when he looks like this:

was not only going to be GMMs playbook but also their moral imperative. Because this was the pipeline they shoved every BL actor that could into. Gain a following using BL get funneled into straight shows now to get legitimacy as an actor. Three years ago, if First wasn't being shoved into this pipeline I'd say something was very very wrong the way it clearly was with Earth.

And well everything is in flux isn't it? GMMTV 2025 is an unprecedentedly queer roster for GMMTV in addition to a sharp increase in shows now marketed towards young working adults rather than youth. That pipeline no longer even makes sense for them.

GMMTV now has a whole roster of well established actors which I don't think they really thought was going to happen for them back in 2016 when SOTUS was released 😅 and especially not when Singto peaced out then did a bunch of critically acclaimed shows as though to highlight how vapid the creative direction within GMMTV was.

They've also made a great many missteps with branded pairings. The GMMTV three pillars (or four wtv your world view is) was a hot mess. TayNew couldn't hack it, Singto left, Krist vehemently doing straight shows to not let the CP thing give him a mental breakdown (again) and Bright and Win were mA they certainly were, weren't they? These pillars stayed pillars I think through the sheer willpower of Offgun Fun Night and Jennie Panhan's unparalleled ability to pretend nothing is amiss 🤣

GMMTV appears to be trying to hone in more and more on what makes their actors already popular rather than box them into things and make costly mistakes like they even recently did with OhmNanon and PerthChimon where they let Chimon take all that pressure of being Perth's new beau without ever considering the fact that Chimon had 0 interests in playing The Woman.

They've seemed to have taken all pressure off their actors in 2025 and I am curious to see if that trend will continue. Nanon wants a straight script? We squeeze one out for him. SkyNani undecided on being a CP? Great they get to play dark soulmates which good for them giving skynani a parameter to work with that can go from literally barely just gay to just so gay depending on the weather conditions.

C4C is going to strengthen FKs Japanese fanbase for sure, while I am assuming they are expecting the western one to remain largely unaffected. The Thai market I don't understand. First can sure as hell pass as straight now but so could Force and Book the last however many years and delightfully neither of them has given a rats ass about it, even when Bright and Win left, the straight BL boy niche once vacated was actually never filled.

In fact, the pillars are now back and supremely active but they are just extremely gay about it. Somehow TayNew were like this is going to be on our terms and their terms were a romance coded bromance and a polycule with off gun, Krist who everyone believed would NOT enjoy fanservice now has more boyfriends than ever before. I love that gay people can't be normal about anything.

There's a straight passing BL actor vacuum in GMMTV sure - does skynani not convince you that the market LOVES this genre of BL actor? And it's coincided with a point where GMMTVs artistic direction is in fact moving towards slightly older audiences. Suddenly, everything that made First second fiddle in the het shows of his youth, sets him apart as a lead NOW: he's a sweet and goofy guy aka The Ideal Husband.

I am just really curious to see over this next year whether First will make any attempts to fill the straight BL actor niche and how desperately (sponsor money) GMM will try to make him do so. The 70: 30 split agreement between FK was specifically designed to deal with this scenario, I am locked and loaded to see it finally tested.

[cillianmurphysdimples]

A Female Y/N / Cillian fanfic (Part Fifty Five)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, is all totally fictional, fanciful and is all total bollocks.

Warnings for sexual references and language. Adult themes. Not suitable for under 18s.

We Got Issues

Part Fifty Five: Cillian takes control of a frightening situation and brings Y/N to the labour ward. Fears and anxiety are all that rule their minds, and Y/N begs of Cillian to do something he hasn't done for years - all for their baby girl. [Angst/Anxiety/Pregnancy Related Concerns]

@cherrycilly @whatcjdidnext @aesthetic0cherryblossom @meister95 @vivianleighwishesshewasme @watermeezer @borntodiemp3 @strangeions @lavender-haze-01 @meadowshelby

A little warning for those who are triggered by pregnancy related content - I've used my story, but slightly altered. I had this experience at 30 weeks with my first child. Take care of your mental health and be warned now that this update contains mentions of potential baby loss, prematurity, and preterm labour.

If you weren't in so much pain, you might have been amazed at the speed with which Cillian flew up the stairs. He bangs the door and when you manage to call out that it's not locked, he flings it open with a fearful look and his eyes wild and wide. You don't care what you look like, and you thrust out your right hand to him. “Help me,” you cry, “It hurts… it's too early.”

He drops before you to his knees in a strange sort of crumble, and keeps hold of your hand. “Where's the pains?”

“All round my stomach,” you say, trying to keep the sobs to a minimum. He scans his eyes all over your face. “Call someone, this can't be Braxton Hicks, it hurts so much.” You are beginning to wonder if your anxiety has taken hold, amplifying everything. Surely it is just Braxton Hicks, it's too early for labour now. Your chest heaves and your heart races, and when each pain does subside you can feel the baby turn violently inside.

His hand tightens around yours. “I'll call the hospital, okay? I'll call the midwives and we'll go in. They'll check you out, they'll see what's happening.” He's calm in his voice but you know he's worried. He's pale and wide eyed still. He gets to his feet to drag his phone from his jeans pocket. “Your notes in the bedroom?” He asks. “I'll get them and come back, alright? I'll come straight back.”

“No, no, no… Cill, don't leave me.” You beg, knowing full well you're hysterical.

He gets closer to your face, bending at the waist, “I'm coming right back, I need your paperwork. I'm coming right back. I'm not leaving you.” he promises. “Have I ever not come back?”

You can barely see him through your tears. “You'll come back?” You ask, wincing against another tightening pain.

“I'll come back.” He pushes his lips hard against your sweating forehead and you loosen your grip on his hand. He sprints from the bathroom and into the bedroom and, as promised, he returns just as fast. Notes in hand, he sits on the edge of the bath at your side and swears under his breath as he dials with a shaking hand.

The pains are evening out - coming less frequently but just as painfully - and in that small amount of relief it offers, you try to gather your thoughts. How could a baby born at twenty three weeks possibly survive? If they did, how would that look? Tubes and wires? Incubators and medication, nurses and doctors holding her instead of you? And if by some miracle she was okay and survived, what would that mean for her life? Disabilities, learning delays, injuries…? But was the slowing of the pains a good sign? Did that mean that it wasn't labour, and just intense practice contractions? Or was it an actual labour event that had somehow stopped itself? You don't think your waters have broken - there's been no gush, no trickles, no blood. Surely that was all a good sign?

As another pain subsides, you look across to Cillian at your left side, staring at you as he speaks into his phone. “...okay? I don't know. No I don't fuc… I don't know! Straight in? Grand. Eh…right, no bother. Thanks.” he brings the phone down. “I've to pack you a bag and bring you in, they want to get you on the monitors. Did your waters break?”

He looks repulsed as he asks, but he looks more afraid than anything. You shake your head, “I don't think so…” you sniff. “You still won't leave?” You say, and you can feel the heat in your eyes returning as new tears begin. He reaches out his right hand, resting it against your shaking thigh.

He takes a deep breath. “I'm right here, Y/N.”

“Dad?” You hear Malachy yelling up the stairs, “Everything okay?”

“Call your Mum, Mal,” Cillian shouts back, “Youse may stay here for now but you'll have to have her take you home, I've to bring Y/N up to the Rotunda.”

“Shit… is the baby okay?” Malachy calls back out.

“Mal, ring your Mum!” Cillian shouts back, tetchy and anxious. Does that mean he doesn't think the baby is okay?

By the time Cillian's bat-out-of-hell driving gets you to the hospital, the pains are even further apart and a little less intense, but the feeling of tightness across your entire lower stomach is just as severe. You feel panicked and sick, hot and overwhelmed, and the fear that this is the moment you say goodbye to your baby girl is the only thing that fills your mind. Malachy and Aran had stared in horror as Cillian had walked you down the stairs, and you could see they knew you were both incredibly worried. Malachy had rung Yvonne, and he promised to lock up the house before they left. Both boys had wished you well. Clutching a bag with changes of clothes and toiletries and your notes, Cillian keeps his free hand on the small of your back as you walk. His trainers are on the wrong feet, and you hadn't grabbed a coat, but it doesn't matter to either of you as you enter the maternity department with a tearstained face and a threat of vomiting at your feet creeping higher. Approaching the desk, Cillian set the bag down and hands the notes over, “Its, eh, Y/N. I called before - you said…”

“Yes, Mister Murphy? It was me you spoke with. Nurse Hickman is expecting you. Take a seat in the waiting area and she'll be right out.” The receptionist says calmly. “If anything changes, you just call us.” She says to you, with a sympathetic look on her face as your face wrinkles at another tightening across your belly.

Picking the bag back up, Cillian again keeps his hand around your back as you walk towards the chairs a little way to the left of the desk. He waits until you're seated before he sits beside you and leaves the bag at his feet. As soon as he sits comfortably, you lay your head down against his shoulder, and he shifts a little to wrap his arm around your shoulders. He lays a kiss against the top of your head. “Whatever happens,” he whispers, and you can hear the fear. You nod your head against his shoulder, but you can't find words. Your head screams inside, though. Don't take my baby girl. I haven't even met her yet. Don't take my baby girl! “I'm here,” he tightens his arm around your shoulders. “I'm not leaving you.”

“Pray for her,” you mumble out. You've never been a religious person, and neither has Cillian in the time you've known him, but you're willing to try anything to ensure your baby girl's safety. “You have prayers, I know you do, I've seen your confirmation pictures. She's our baby girl - say those fucking prayers.” He hugs you closer still. You want to curl against him like an infant, just to have him that close, to have all that protective warmth and closeness, but you don't want to give yourself that sense of security if it'll be ripped from you when they tell you something bad.

The approach of footsteps pulls you apart and you look up at the tall, slim, middle-aged midwife that approaches. “Y/N? Hello pet, I'm Anne. C’mon, let's get you into a room and we'll have a listen to baby, will we?” She's sympathetic and calm, she's sweet and gentle, and you want to cry as she waits patiently for you and Cillian to get to your feet. She exudes maternal energy, and you feel a semblance of calm wash over you. You follow where she leads, and enter a small room with a bed, a small clear cot, and a foetal monitor. “Just hop up if you can, pet, and lift up your top. We'll put the monitors on, okay? Straps around and two small monitors to have a listen in to baby's heartbeat and they'll also tell us if these pains you're having are contractions or not.”

“If they are?” You ask, sitting back against the raised back of the bed with your tummy exposed. You sit forwards as she brings the pink and blue elasticated straps and wraps them around your back to fasten in the front with the small, round monitors.

“A bridge we'll cross…” Anne says quietly.

“She has fierce anxiety, you can't be doing that.” Cillian snaps at her. “If it's labour, then what?”

“Cill…” you shake your head.

“If it is a sign of labour, we can monitor for a while. If it looks as though the baby is on the way for sure, then there are medications we can give you to help the baby out for the early arrival.” Anne explains carefully. “But let's see what shape baby is in, and what these pains are first, and we'll act where we need to when we know.” She remains gentle, calm, and doesn't bat an eye at Cillian's attitude.

“It's too fucking early…” Cillian seems to have found a firm anger in fear, and you're not sure you like it. “...can't you give her something to stop the pain? If it's labour? Instead of letting that wee girl be born too early?”

“Mister Murphy, I appreciate that this is stressful, but we need to know what’s happening before we do anything. It'll do neither yourself nor Y/N any good to let this take you over.” Anne says calmly, giving Cillian her full attention for a moment. “C’mon, she needs you to be as calm as you can be to support her here.”

“Calm? How the fuck can I be calm? That wee baby shouldn't be being born yet and ye are listening into her heart instead of giving drugs to make sure she's not?” He snaps back at her, then covers his face with his hands. He's instantly sorry, you can see, but you know just how bad his verbal diarrhoea can be in his temper - evidently that extends to his temper borne of fear. “I'm sorry… I'm sorry…” he mumbles as he drops his hands.

“Let's see how the baby is doing,” Anne says as she turns to the machine beside the bed. “And monitor those pains. If there are labour contractions over the next ten minutes, the machine will display those and we'll be able to act as needed. If there is no sign of labour, then we can rule that this has been a scary run, but just a practice run.” She lays her hand against your shoulder. “Sit and relax as much as you can, Y/N, pet. I'll be back to check in ten minutes. But I'd anything changes, you can get us, okay?”

You watch her walk away, closing the door of the tiny room behind her, and you eye Cillian at the end of the bed - he's breathing deeply, his hands are shoved into his pockets, and he looks like he might faint. “The pains are less,” you say quietly. “That has to be a good thing, right?” You say, hopefully.

He purses his lips and nods slowly, “Fuck, I hope so.” The machine gives our loud sounds - your baby's beautiful heart beat being the most amazing one.

“I mean it, Cill.” You look at him sternly. “Sit on that chair and say the whole fucking rosary, I can't say goodbye to her before I even got to meet her.”

He sighs and shrugs his shoulders. “It'll be okay.” He says quietly.

“You don't know that.” You frown deeply. “And you don't believe that, either!” You accuse.

“Y/N,” he shakes his head and draws his hands from his pockets.

“I'm scared, Cillian.” Your chin quivers.

“I know,” he blinks slowly. “I know you are, I'm scared too.” He walks slowly up the side of the bed and lays his hand against your outstretched leg. “And I'm right here with you, I'm not leaving. You are not on your own.” He sighs deeply and you watch his tongue swipe over his lips nervously. He's shitting himself.

“What if we can't keep her?” You ask, your throat constricting each word. He shushes you quickly, shaking his head. “No, no! What if we can't? What if we can't keep her?”

His eyes are welling when he shakes his head again, “I don't know.” He mumbles, then bites his bottom lip. “I'm sorry.”

It's a little over ten minutes when Anne returns. She smiles softly as she walks over to the machine. “How are you doing, pet?” She asks gently.

“Better. No pain anymore, but just…tight?” You say, wondering if that's even the right thing to say.

Anne smiles, “Well that's good.” She says. The noise of the monitor is still firing with small bumps of kicks from Clíodhna and the whooshing of her heart. Anne lifts up the long printed paper from the feeder of the machine and studies it carefully. “Well, Y/N, you were definitely experiencing some signs of intense tightenings when we first set up the monitor, but I'm relieved to say that has all stopped.”

“Tightenings?” Cillian frowns. “So Braxton Hicks?”

“No,” Anne shakes her head.

“So…she was in labour?” He challenges, anger so near to the tip of his tongue you're worried he'll start in on her again.

“Not established labour, no.” Anne says gently. “And the good thing here….is that all of that activity has stopped. Your baby's heart is beating nicely, and the movements are wonderful, so I see no signs of distress at all.”

You feel awash with relief, but Cillian just seems annoyed. “No, no - I told you, we told you, and you just wanted to monitor her. She was in labour…”

“Cillian, stop…” You sigh. You understand his upset and concern, but not that he's aiming it at her in the form of his bitter tongue.

He looks at you like you've put an end to something of great importance. “Y/N?”

“She is fine. I am fine. Love, please.” You hold out your left hand to him, “Please?”

“Please what? We came in here terrified, and what we were fucking terrified of was actually happening. And now it's being brushed off because it's stopped? That's…” he grapples for his words.

“Exactly,” you say, taking his hand when he finally gives it. “Exactly, Cill, it's stopped. She's okay, and I'm okay. It has stopped. She's safe in there.” You squeeze his hand in yours. “Love please, don't lose it. I can't…I can't cope.” He squeezes your hand and huffs a deep breath before he nods his head once. He's not calm, but he won't blow. “Can I go home?” You ask, turning to Anne.

“Let's do another ten minutes, ensure everything's settled down fully, and then we'll get you on your way.” She says and touches your arm softly. “Can I get you some water?”

You shake your head, “Oh, no thanks, I was flooded with it before all of this.” You smile nervously and squeeze against Cillian's hand, hoping he takes the humour you meant. He smiles with his lips when you look at him, but his eyes are fierce and firm.

“Grand,” Anne smiles. “I'll come back in a little while, so.” She says, and slowly disappears from the room again.

“We were terrified.” He shakes his head, jaw tight, as soon as the door closes. “And right!”

“Cillian,” you close your eyes and rest your head back against the bed. “Love, please. I am exhausted - I'm tired, I'm sore, I think I'm going to wet myself if they don't finish this up and let me go for a wee, and I know you were scared. I'm not brushing your feelings off, I promise you. I know you were scared. But it has stopped - Clíodhna is fine, and I am fine, and we can go home and call the boys and tell them that everything is okay. Please, love, don't let anger be the dominant fucking emotion here because it's just a reactionary one.” He takes a deep breath, and evidently your words make him take a second look at himself. “As soon as we step out of those door, you can smoke a whole packet of cigarettes if it helps, love, and I won't say a word.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, smiling a little. He sighs again. “I'm sorry. I am scared - so scared. But you're right. The main thing now is that you're both okay.” He nods his head, and as a smile pulls at his right cheek softly, a dimple forms. “Both my girls.”

[art-missy]

"Here. I made you rice soup."

When you opened the door of your dorm room, you thought you were having hallucinations because of your fever. But no. After poking his cheek under his confused gaze, you came to the conclusion that Iso really was there, a tray of food in hands. You looked down at the tray and noticed the said soup, a few medicine, a thermos with a warm drink, a bowl of water with cold compresses in it. You blinked, looked back up at him, blinked again then let out a choked throat noise of surprise. He really was there, his face as impassive as ever, but his eyes usually so sharp now reflecting confusion and a hint of worry.

"Can I come inside ?" he asked, his head tilting.

You stepped aside and let him in. A part of you kept wondering if you were having a fever dream. You were already weak because of illness, his presence wasn't helping at all. Having Iso in your room was not on your bingo card when you got sick but you were not complaining. Speaking of Iso, he was putting down the tray on your bedtable.

"You shouldn't be standing for very long," he said, looking back at you.

"Huh ?"

"You're sick. You should lie down," he patted your bed.

He was right. You felt a malicious vertigo hitting you with a traitorous strike. Seeing you sway, Iso rushed at your side and his hands found your waist. He guided you to your bed with a gentleness surprisingly high for a former assassin.

"Iso, what are you doing here ?" you asked with a hoarse voice before being caught by a coughing fit.

He gently caressed your back and pushed you against your pillows.

"Sage isn't available at the moment, so she asked me to help you take care of yourself," he took a spoon of soup and presented it to you.

Your eyes widened in shock. Was he going to feed you ? He kept the spoon close to your lips, patient. So you opened your mouth and he delicately put the spoon inside. The soup was hot enough to warm your throat without burning your tongue. And it taste homely, a vague of nostalgia swaying you as the flavor danced on your taste buds.

"My 奶奶 used to make me this soup everytime I got sick when I was a kid," he said as he kept feeding you.

You hummed, remembering him briefly mentioning his grandmother.

"You should finish this first. Your stomach had to be full before taking your medicine," he then touched your forehead and you shivered at how warm his hand was. "Your fever hasn't come down ?"

You shook your head. He waited until you swallowed your last sip of soup before cautiously placing a cold compress on your forehead. You let out a soft whimper of surprise at the sudden chilly temperature. If you still thought about having a fever dream, you were now certain of being very much awake. You watched Iso taking a chair, moving it next to your bed and getting comfortable, his gaze still on you.

"Rest a little," he murmured, turning off the lights of your room. "I'll stay right here. If you need something, just say my name."

Unbeknownst to you, Iso lied. Sage was indeed not available at the moment, but she never asked him to take care of you. But you didn't need to know that. His eyes turned fond as you slowly closed your eyes, his fingers gently pulling the comforter on your collarbone.

*奶奶 — Nǎinai = grandmother

[kero-cure]

1 Year anniversary of Boonboomger episode 1 premiere, The series that I never had any single thought that I gonna love them that much when I saw them at first

This time of last year, My life was pretty good. I enjoy my multifandom fangirl life as always, Taking with local friends, Discussing with western friends on discord, Playing some games, Building gunpla, It was a normal life but good. For tokusatsu that I love (and usually have a main focus on Kamen Rider) for more than 10 years now, I was on the hype train of Kamen Rider Blade 20th anniversary event. It was so happy that my favorite series had a spotlight again and still love by the communities. But in fact, I was pretty much on a faraway position from toku fandom since a long while now. I knew that Kingohger was a peak (I have some goods too) And Gotchard came to the half of series. But that time I was too faraway to ride on the hype train. Maybe because toku fandom wasn't my main focus fandom like I used to be. I was just enjoy some information about them when it come to my timeline and go to check if something fun happen.

When I heard a news about Boonboomger at first. I laughed a little from how funny the name is and made fun a little. Like Boom Shakalaka or Boom-Boom Shake (I'm in D4DJ fandom too). After I made a joke, I went back to my main focus fandom again because I thought "Well, Nothing gonna change. Know some news and look at them from far place like always. And my focus in toku fandom are usually Kamen Rider anyway" And when they appeared officially, People laughed at them because how funny the tire heads are. I was surprised too. Yeah... It was crazy design. But I always think that design isn't the most important thing. The story are. So I was waiting for the next information. Then February 18th, The cast revealed. I giggled again, For the third time. Because how the character name are too literally car-related names. Tire, Chassis, Mirror, Lock, Work site. But yeah... Still a normal thing in anime or media that sometimes the character names will bring from something that match the theme of story. So I was like... Okay lol. But the casts visual are so good. I admit.

Finally, First episode premiere. I looked at them from faraway position as usual. I knew that people still so impressed of how Kingohger was that much epic. So I assumed that Boonboomger that go back to simple way might not able to catch their attention that much at first... Or maybe not? How Sentai decided to go back to simple way after all of the craziness for many years might be a good thing, Let us rest for something more simple like a good old days. And after I checked a feedbacks, I was surprised and happy that how the audience like them after many laughs on them. Well, Simpleness aren't bad thing at all. But I will end up just checking on them from faraway again, right? Well, On the same day production blog was update too. As I checked a feedback from audience on Twitter, One tweet that captured one part of that blog caught my attention and it tickled my curiosity. That sentenced said that the blue "loves" (大好き) the red. Since I'm also long time fujoshi for many years that have lots of ships in toku fandom too, I was wonder a lot. Why they put that word so blatantly? Normally about shipping in toku, Just put something like have a strong bond, Strong interesting on other, Or trust that person a lot, is enough to gain an attention from fujoshis. But "Love" Huh??? This caught me off guard. I was like "Well, I'll keep check on them because I'm so curious right now"

So, I went back to main fandom like I always do. But keep checking on Twitter and Facebook every week after the on-aired. I found that they really keep caught me off guard. Outside of how normal but fun to watch story. The dynamics of the characters that interesting. And as my curiousness was on that certain blue boy, It kept escalated lmao. The "Unfair", "Trust your judgement", "Don't leave me behind" all of them came after the word "love" on production blog. They caught my attention and won't let me go because my fujoshi sense was tingling so bad. And his character settings have lots of my favorite tropes too. That time I still thought that "My interesting on them might be not that hard". But then, My local friend that I knew for many years but didn't talk to each other that much for years started addict to Boonboomger. She drew lots of BBG fanart. And of course since she's fujoshi like me, She drew fanarts and spicy fanarts of red and blue too. And those fanart kept come into my timeline. Lots of male friends joking about them too. Everything was too perfect for me to... Maybe comeback to toku fandom again? One day on May, That local friend decided to make a first Tiremeter doujishi. And when I saw that announcement, Even though that time my interesting still wasn't on the super high level, But I was like "I have to get one!" So I DMs to her since many years. We reconnected from the love for them. And then after that for a bit while the plushies was on sale and I decided to bought it. That time I was like "Well, Point of no return for me. Maybe I love them now."

I went to Japan for Kamen Rider Blade 20th anniversary event on August, But I enjoyed Boonboomger stuffs too like watched the on-air real time, Went to eat at Sentai Restaurant and buy some merches. After that I checked on the latest episode every week and enjoy the overall aspect of the series. The lovable characters, The simple but fun story. And they lit my fire to back to toku fandom for real since that time current main fandoms was on stable (and had too little things to enjoy) status. So yes, Toku fandom became the main fandom again since many years. And after that Gavv was able to caught my attention from the design and how cute Gocizos are too so, Fever time! I connected to lots of friends who have the same interest. Even in JP communities too. Since that local friend help me (or drag me) to this rabbit hole, I have to help her access to JP communities to buying doujinshi too. And with our power, It was successful (But our wallet are completely defeated)

The fire that Boonboomger lit inside me wasn't only the feeling of excitement since long time, But my development and improvement too. I already got lots of confident boost about my drawing from previous fandom. When I saw my friend made a second doujinshi, I said to her that I wanna join drawing the extra pages too. That was a first time in my life that I could break the limit of my drawing and the old thought of "My work will never be able to sell" and I was so proud when I saw my arts as a form of doujinshi in my hand even though it was just an extra pages. After that my will to improve my art skill became stronger and I keep on going until now. I even think about what if I revive my fiction writing skill that I left it dead for 8 years too? Well... Maybe. And another one is... Yep, Me came back to Tumblr because I wanna yap about my bois! This maybe a little improvement of my English skills.

I, Who usually mainly attract to Kamen Rider and enjoying Super Sentai from a bit far away compared to Rider (I grew up watching early Heisei Rider before knowing Sentai for a pretty long while so), Finally found Sentai series that I really love, Found actual oshi that I stan a lot, Found OTP that made me excited and brainrot so damn bad since Build. (As I said before that I'd never into toku ships that hard since the best match bois) Found the 3rd IRL person that I stan a lot since last time that was 10 years ago. And I feel really thankful to meet them and everyone that came to my life because of them.

I'm a person who have to take lots of time to like something a lot. But if I really into that thing I'll keep into it and never change. Since my fever time on Boonboomger still strong so maybe I need lots of time to find another series that made me crazy like this again. I don't know if Gozyuger gonna be another wave of my craziness again or not since I need a time to know them a little. But I think I'll enjoy a new series from a little faraway position like always. And I'll never forget how Boonboomger changed some parts of my life. Because a fire of passion inside me already lit.

I'm really glad to meet you guys, Tire person.

[itsbenedict]

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