#it reminds me a lot of this time last year when we set up our Notion pages and joined fiveable sessions all the time

[thethingything]

we ended up catching up with a bunch of Dracula Daily emails earlier and cleaning part of our room a little bit and I've noticed over the last few days we've had the urge to talk to people more (not quite managed to actually do that but still) and the motivation to actually do stuff we enjoy as well as the tasks on our to-do list instead of just sitting there dissociating or being unable to decide what to do, and I have no idea where this came from but it's really nice

[yxngbxkkie]

7 minutes in heaven (b.c)

so, i found a forced proximity prompt list and decided that i want to dabble in a few of them. and, channie is the first one 🤭 i hope you guys like it! let me know what you think 🩷

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

“Jihyun, I told you I don't like these kinds of games,” you tell your roommate, trying to get her to stop dragging you.

She stops, and you almost run into her. “Oh come on, Y/N. It's our last year of college. You need to live a little,” she scolds you, narrowing her eyes.

“I can live a little. I don't have to play childish games in a frat house to live,” you remind her, not fond of how she's speaking to you.

“Just one round, and then we can leave,” Jihyun attempts to negotiate, squeezing your hand in hers. “Plus, Chan is playing.”

The tips of your ears start to turn red at the thought of Bang Chan, the president of this frat, Theta Kappa Phi. You've had the biggest crush on him since your sophomore year.

You press your lips together before glancing around. “One round, and I'm gone,” you tell her in a hushed whisper.

Your roommate claps her hands and continues leading you into one of the many bedrooms. Your heart pounds in your chest as you lower yourself onto the floor.

“It's a strange sight to see you, Y/N,” Chan greets you with a soft smile.

A shy chuckle leaves your lips as you nod your head. “It's strange to be here,” you giggle, tucking some hair behind your ear.

Chan chuckles and pats your leg. “Well, Jihyun talks about you a lot, so I'm glad that you could make it.”

Butterflies swarm around your stomach at his touch. Hyunjin runs in with an empty bottle before either of you can say anything else. The other drunk students around you cheer as the taller man sets the bottle in the middle of the circle.

“Who would like to start?” Hyunjin grins, holding his hands out.

“How about our wonderful President,” Felix suggests, smirking lightly.

Chan laughs, and he shakes his head. “I don't want to go first,” he mentions, his eyes dancing between his two buddies.

“Too late, spin old man,” Hyunjin laughs, lowering himself to the floor.

You watch Chan sigh and move to sit on his knees. His veiny hands grasp the clear bottle before he spins it fast. You don't realize you're holding your breath as you keep your eyes on the bottle.

No fucking way… You think to yourself when the bottle stops on you. You can feel your heartbeat pounding as his eyes meet yours.

Cheers and hollers echo off of the walls as you grow more and more embarrassed. Chan releases a sigh, standing to his feet before holding his hand out to you.

“Come on,” he whispers loud enough for you to hear.

You swallow thickly, reaching out to grab his hand. Chan pulls you off of the floor and leads you towards the hallway closet. He opens the door and allows you to go in first.

Clasping your hands together as you peek into the dimly lit closet. “Uhm,” you pause, tilting your head to look up at him. “Is now… is now a bad time to tell you I'm claustrophobic?”

“Shit, really?” He mutters, a frown settling in on his face. Chan starts to mumble incoherently, trying to figure out a solution.

You tuck your lip between your teeth and decide to do it anyway. “If we keep the light on, I'll be okay,” you reassure him, not wanting to miss out on this opportunity.

“Are you sure?” He asks while stroking your arms. “I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

“With you, I'll be okay,” you end up blurring out.

Chan's frown turns into a smile, and he nods his head. “Okay. I'll go in first,” he says before stepping into the tiny closet.

You follow him, pressing your hand against his chest as he shuts the door. You can feel the palms of your hands beginning to sweat, and you start to fiddle with his shirt.

“You okay?” Chan whispers, bringing his hand up to move the hair out of your face.

“Mhm,” you hum, nodding your head slowly.

He brings one of his arms around your waist, tugging your body closer to his. You lift your head to look at him, hoping he can't feel how fast your heart's beating. His eyes stare into yours as his hand gently rubs your lower back.

The longer the two of you stare at each other, the more you notice the light freckles decorating his cheeks. Your gaze flickers between admiring his freckles and his dark eyes.

“I've never noticed your freckles before,” you whisper to him, lifting a hand to gently touch them. “It's cute.”

Chan giggles, dipping his head down. “You can see them?” He asks, bringing his free hand to his other cheek. “I haven't gotten much sun, so they're pretty light.”

“Mm, yeah,” you agree, dragging the tip of your finger to each one you find. “They're pretty light, but I can see them at this angle.”

“And, you think they're cute?” He asks, leaning his face closer to you.

You nod your head, not trusting your voice as the guy you've had a crush on for two years gets closer. Your eyes flutter shut when his nose brushes yours, your breath hitching.

“I'm going to kiss you, okay?” Chan mutters against your lips, your heart jumping at the light touch.

“Yeah… yeah,” you breathe out, releasing a deep breath.

He fully plants his lips on yours, and your grip on his shirt tightens. You're kissing your crush. He asked to kiss you. He's actually kissing you. The hand on his face glides to the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the ends of his hair.

“Shit, your lips are so soft,” Chan mumbles, pulling away from you.

Giggles leave your lips, finding yourself a blushing mess. He leans in to give you a quick kiss, a groan coming from him after.

“It's that great?” You ask with a laugh, your hand stroking his clothed pec.

“You have no idea,” he whispers before reattaching your lips.

A moan comes from you while sliding your other arm around his neck. You kiss him back with just as much passion, leaning on your toes to deepen it further.

Chan glides his hands down your waist, resting on the back of your thighs. “Jump for me,” he mutters, and you do as he says.

He holds you in his arms, pressing you against the wall behind you. Your ankles lock together, a little scared that he'll end up dropping you.

Pounding on the door snaps you from your little makeout session. Chan's lips find a place on your chest as Hyunjin calls from outside the closet.

“Time's up! Come on!” He laughs, pounding his fist against the wooden object again.

“Chan,” you giggle, tugging his head back by his hair. He groans, squeezing his eyes shut while keeping his plump lips parted. “We have to go.”

“Stay over?” He asks, gently setting you back onto your feet. “We can get breakfast in the morning.”

You bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling even more. This man… When he's like this, he's irresistible. You can't say no.

“I'll stay over on one condition,” you tell him, tapping the tip of his nose. He nods his head, motioning for you to continue. “When we get breakfast tomorrow, it's a date.”

Chan grins ear to ear, nodding his head vigorously. “Absolutely, deal. Seal it with a kiss,” he says before stealing one more kiss.

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

[sadslay]

- BASOREXIA ⋆☆ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

(n.) the overwhelming desire, or sudden urge, to kiss someone.

warnings — set during s1 ep6, very short (sorry), light nsfw content

daryl hadn’t known you for long, no more then a few weeks at most but in the short time he had known you, he felt as though he’d known you for years. thanks to not only his brother’s judgements but also his own, he believed you to be some entitled snob that would never looked twice in his direction. his jaw had just about hit the ground when he had discovered you had both grown up in the same neighbourhood, even went to the same community school before him and merle had moved away.

he could never describe the way he felt around you. daryl had always understood he was never smart, not in the ways that mattered or not in the ways that would impress you but he was sure - so goddamn sure - that were was a word or two to describe the way he’d felt about you in the short time he had come to know you. the word daryl was searching for - but would never find - was basorexia.

sitting on a countertop behind a rounded table, watching the others cheer and pour drinks brought a sense of familiarity to you. it reminded you of a simpler time. you focused on lori and rick as they playfully bickered on weather or not their son should try some of the red wine dale was serving, but daryl - who sat beside you, nursing a bottle of beer- was entirely focused on you. the way you looked under the white led lighting of the cdc bunker and the way you giggled as carl pushed away the small cup of wine he had just tried. everything you did was perfect in his eyes, absolutely everything.

“you gonna share that bottle dixon?” you queried, gently nudging into his shoulder as you flashed him cheeky grin.

daryl let out a breathy chuckle, not saying a word before handing you the brown bottle, watching you intently as you brought the bottle up to your lips.

“you should stick to soda pop kid.” shane mumbled as daryl stood up to walk around the table, in hopes to secure another bottle as the current one had almost run out.

“not you glenn.” daryl smiled - that was one of the first times you had seen him genuinely smile - leaning in to grab another bottle before teasing, “keep drinkin’ little man, i wanna see how red your face can get.”

“it seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly.” rick spoke, standing up to look at the man who had reluctantly let us in an hour or so prior.

“he is more than just our host.” t-dog smiled, raising his glass of red wine.

“booyah!” daryl cheered, raising a bottle of spirits into the air before sitting back down beside you, offering you a sip of the new liquor.

you placed the empty bottle of beer beside you before taking the bottle what you assumed was whiskey and cheering, “booyah!” before taking a swig.

“so when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, doc?” shane asked, breaking the cheers and thanks coming from around the room, and almost instantly everyone fell quiet. “all the ah the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?” he asked, looking at the lone scientist.

“we're celebrating, shane.” rick answered quickly, sitting back down beside his son. “don't need to do this now.” he added.

“whoa, wait a second. this is why we're here, right?” shane asked rhetorically, looking at rick before continuing. “this was your move, supposed to find all the answers but instead we uh we found him.” shane explained, his very tome and expression seeming on edge and untrusting. “found one man. why?”

“well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. went off to be with their families and when things got worse, when the military got overrun, the rest bolted.” the scientist explained, the entire mood shifting.

“every last one?” shane asked sarcastically.

“no, many couldn't face walking out the door. they... opted out. there was a rash of suicides. that was a bad time.” the scientist continued, his voice shaky as he explained the fate of the cdc.

“you didn't leave. why?” andrea asked, placing her half empty glass of wine onto the crowded table.

“i just kept working. hoping to do some good.” he explained.

“dude, you are such a buzzkill, man.” glenn groaned, looking at shane as he slumped back into his chair.

later that night, after every had begun settling in for the night you found yourself lying awake in a sleeping bag a meter or so away from glenn. your hair was still damp from the warm shower you had no more then an hour prior. you pulled yourself up from the sleeping bag, wrapping your arms around your chest before wandering out into the hallway to find all but one light left on. daryls room. the door had been left open, allowing you to lean up against the doorframe as you watched daryl pull a clean shirt over his head and shoulders before noticing the brown bottle by the head of his sleeping bag.

“still hoggin’ the bottle huh dixon?” you giggled, causing daryl to spin around as the rest of his shirt fell down his torso.

he weakly scoffed as his eyes traced up and down your body, most of your legs exposed from the shorts you had found in some drawers while a baggy shirt hid most of your figure.

“d’yer reckon we could find the rest of ‘is stash?” you asked eagerly, looking up at daryl as a breathy chuckle fell from his lips.

“nah, yer cut off woman.” he chortled, as you walked further into his room “yer already drunk as i am.” daryl added.

your eyebrows almost immediately pinched together as you dramatically scoffed, “that shower sobered me up real good.” you teased, bending down to grab the bottle before taking a sip of the room temperature liquor. “‘n what would be so wrong with that?” you asked, folding your arms across your chest.

“nothin’!” he defended, his hands weakly rising into the air before dropping back by his side. “s’just you look like you can’t handle your booze is all.” daryl teased.

you dropped down onto the near by couch as you slurred, “i can handle my liquor jus’ fine.”

closely you watched daryl as he plopped down beside you, taking the brown bottle from your hand before taking another swig.

“women can never handle their liquor.” he mumbled, a weak laugh escaping his lips, making you frown.

“dixon.” you mumbled, looking across to his eyes as they remained focused on the bottle in front of him. “that sounds like a challenge.” you smirked causing the man to look up with a devilish grin plastered on his lips.

he extended his arm, offering the bottle to you. you took the bottle from daryl causing a soft giggle to leave your lips as you brought the rim of the bottle up to your mouth. taking another swig of the brown liquor - burning your throat - you rested the bottle in your lap.

“yer gonna be wasted.” he noted, trying to hide the grin sneaking onto his lips.

“you’ve never even seen me drink,” i scoffed, “for all you know i could’ve been a drunk before all of this rubbish.” i added, handing the bottle back to daryl as he shuffled a little closer.

“‘cept i do, yer told me ‘bout an hour ago that you barely had your first drink before the world went to shi-.” daryl teased, his words cut off as your hand covered his mouth, quietly shushing him.

“i told you that in confidence, and i said first legal drink.” you pouted as daryl’s hand lifted up to connect with yours that was still covering the majority of his mouth.

you could feel daryls breath on the palm of your hand as he let out a small chuckle but as his hands slowly began to peel yours away from his mouth, his lips began to purse, leaving a soft kiss on your skin. you watched him as his lips continued further down your wrist, his hand loosening before finally letting go to reattach at the base of your neck, pulling you closer to him as you lips met. quicker then you could have ever imagined the kiss grew heated and passionate as you found yourselves pulling each other closer. in an act of desperation you pulled yourself onto his lap, resting your knees on either sides of his hips as you sat down on his lap, but it still didn’t feel close enough.

when you had suddenly pulled your lips away from daryls, leaving him confused and afraid that he had overstepped, but as your hands cradled his cheeks and a smile began to creep onto your lips he was left in a state of confusion.

“been waitin’ for yer to do this for a while.” you grinned, your eyes wandering around daryls face, admiring every little detail thanks to the close proximity.

“thought you were only doin’ this cause you’d been drinkin’.” he answered glumly, his hands still loosely hovering over your hips.

you shrugged weakly, a smirk creeping onto your lips as you whispered, “needed some liquid courage.” before your lips connected to his prickled jawline.

“scared of me huh?” he asked, his grip tightening around your waist as your delicate kisses began to tickle his skin.

“m’not scared of you.” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, slowly beginning to work your way back to his lips.

but just as you went to reconnect your lips, daryl slightly pulled away, his eyebrows pinched together as he whispered, “ya think i’d say no to yer?”

you stayed silent, shyly nodding. heavy breaths filled the room as a weak muffled scoff left daryls lips. you let out a little chuckle at your own foolish mind for getting in the way of an action you had been wanting to pursue for some time now.

“didn’t think i was your type.” you commented, combing a piece of hair out of your face before your hand reattached to the base of daryl’s neck.

“didn’t think i was ya type either.” he breathlessly chuckled, his hands remaining firmly gripped onto your waist.

a soft giggle left your lips as your lips momentarily connected with daryls before pulling away to whisper, “your one hundred percent my type.” you smiled, your very words making daryl scoff in disbelief before your lips reconnected with his.

daryl was in heaven on earth. he had never imagined this happening and now with you on his lap, your mouth slowly beginning to part from his lips as you trailed down his chin and jaw, your entire body now beginning to slide down. his chest rose and fell heavily as you rested on your knees, your hands now beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle.

“ya- yer don’ have ta-“ a groan slipped from daryls lips as you began to peel away his jeans, the very action sending him into a euphoric state and with you on your knees before him, something much more lustful and libidinous began to grow.

the following morning daryl woke up to you wrapped around his body, the sleeping bag - intended for one person use - was sprawled out over your two bodies, providing some warmth. your arms were wrapped around his torso, and your legs were intertwined with his. daryl looked down at you, admiring your soft delicate feature as you peacefully slept for the first time in months.

daryl thought you were so deep in sleep that nothing could possibly wake you, so when a strand of your hair fell across your face, tickling your nose and lips, daryls hand rose from his side. as he began to brush away your hair, your eyes began to flutter open, causing daryl to freeze as he trucked the strand of hair behind your ear.

“morning.” you grumbled, your arms pulling away from the warmth of daryls body to stretch.

“mornin’.” he hummed, following your actions of sitting up right, the pair of you sitting shoulder to shoulder. “yer hungover?” daryl teased, beginning to rub his face before combing his hair out of his face.

“shut up.”

[bellaireland1981]

Babymoon

Summary: You and your husband take a quick beach vacation before becoming a family of three.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female! Reader

Warnings: Illusions to smut, heavy making out, pregnancy, fluff, Jake being adorable. UNDER 18 DNI

Word Count: 2231 (look at me keeping it quick!)

A/N: Written for @thedroneranger 's Pick Your Poison writing challenge. Inspiration for the fic was Sex on the Beach As always, I do not own the Top Gun Maverick characters but all OCs and Reader insert concepts are my own and storylines are mine. I do not give permission for my work to be translated, copied, reposted to other sites, used in AI generators and sold on any platforms.

Masterlist

“Angel, are you sure you’re not overdoing it?” Jake asked as the two of you made your way down to the beach from your hotel room. “We can relax in the room for a bit or sit by the pool if that’s better…”

At 7 months pregnant, you were getting close to the point of no travel and Jake had surprised you with a last minute “babymoon” down to Mexico. He wanted the two of you to have one last opportunity to be spontaneous and fly off for a romantic getaway before you become parents. 

“Jake, I love you, Stud…” You said, looking up at your husband, a coy smile on your face, “I promise I’m not overdoing it. I just really want some time on the beach with my sexy husband and baby daddy…maybe some sexy time on the beach with my husband.”

“You’re a menace, Angel.” He chuckled, pausing your walk to the beach to steal a quick kiss. “But anything for my sexy pregnant wife” kissing you again, “Beautiful mother of our daughter.”

“Our daughter is going to have her daddy wrapped around her tiny little finger.” You smirked, as you continued toward the beach. 

“Just like her Momma.” He replied, chuckling. “Wouldn’t want it any other way, Angel.” 

He led you to a cabana area he’d rented for you for the day. There were beach loungers set up in front, where you could lay in the sun and soak up the warm rays, but there were also loungers in the cabana to allow you to lay down out of the sun and rest without having to leave the beach. It came complete with full food and drink service from the resort. Your amazing and perfect husband had thought of everything. 

“Before you get all comfortable out there, darlin’ you need sunscreen.” Jake reminded you. 

“Are you worried about me burning…or do you just want a reason to rub your hands all over me in public without the threat of getting arrested?” You teased him. 

“A little of both.” He admitted with a smirk, “I’ll always take any excuse to get my hands on my wife, Angel, you know that… it’s why you’re currently pregnant.”

“Does this mean I’ll be spending a lot of time pregnant over the next five to ten years of our marriage?” You laughed.

“I will happily give you as many babies as you want Angel.” He said, pulling you close, one hand naturally finding its home on your swollen belly, the other behind your head, tilting your head back before capturing your lips in a tender kiss. 

“Let’s see how things go with our daughter first.” You suggested, “So far, she’s a handful just like her daddy.”

“The morning sickness finally eased up.” He reasoned, “And after several talks recently, she’s no longer using your bladder as a punching bag.”

“True.” You acknowledged, “Now she’s using my kidneys and rib cage for soccer practice and I swear she takes joy in giving me major heartburn.”

“I’ll have another talk with her.” He smiled, “But you’re not fooling me. I see you when you don’t think anyone is watching… or listening. You’re loving every moment, kidney shots and all.”

“I really am.” You sighed happily, rubbing your hand over your belly where your daughter was safely growing and developing. “I can’t even describe the feeling… knowing a part of you and a part of me…growing inside me. Getting to feel her move and being this close to her… knowing that once she’s born, I’ll never be this close to her again… I’ll have to share her, I’ll no longer be able to protect her from the world… It’s an incredible thing.”

“It’s pretty damn amazing from this side of things too, Angel.” He said gently, his hand joining yours on top of your belly, “Watching our little girl grow inside of you, knowing I helped put her there… seeing you literally grow a human, OUR human… protecting her, nourishing her, loving her… it about brings me to my knees. You’re already the most amazing momma in the world, Angel. Our little princess is so lucky she gets to have you as her momma. As for protecting her once she’s on the outside… I have zero doubts you’ll be fierce and badass at that. I’ve seen you in action protecting those you love. She’ll have us, and a squad full of uncles and aunts to keep her safe. Our little girl will be just fine.”

“You’re gonna make me cry.” You sniffled, tears threatening to spill over. “Not like it’s hard to do… it’s kinda low hanging fruit.”

“You said it, Angel.” He laughed, “But you’re adorable when you’re all emotional.” 

“I love you, Stud.” You said,  snuggling into your husband.

“I love you too, Angel.” He replied, holding you close. 

After a moment, once the emotions had calmed down you pulled back a bit, “Can you put sunscreen on me now?”

“Absolutely,” He agreed, grinning, “Let me grab the bottle. Sit down on the lounger and I’ll get you all sorted.”

The two of you spent time laying in the sun, you reading a steamy romance novel, Jake reading an updated manual for new equipment to his jet. 

“You know, My Love,” You teased him, “We’re on vacation, you shouldn’t be working.”

“I enjoy learning about my jet, Angel.” He defended himself, “Besides, wouldn’t you rather I know everything there is to know about it so I can be extra safe?”

“You already know that jet down to the last screw.” You laughed, “And I love that you’re thorough, Babe… it makes it a little easier to send you off on missions and deployments because you tackle those the same as your jet and you learn every detail given to you. I love that about you.”

“I will always do everything in my power and control to come home to you and our little girl.” He promised. 

“I know.” You smiled, “And I know that you have amazing squadmates who have your back.”

“They’re alright.” He laughed playfully. Truth was, you knew he loved all of the Daggers and would do anything for them. He’d already been best friends with Javy coming into the Uranium mission that had formed the Daggers, but afterwards he and Bradley had formed an unbreakable bond and a strong friendship. Bradley had even asked Jake to be his best man in his wedding the month before.  “Feel like getting in the water?”

“I could cool off.” You replied, “Going to need help getting up though.”

He set his manual down under his towel so it wouldn’t blow away and reached for your book so he could set it next to his before reaching out to lift you up. You swayed slightly into him, the change in position causing you to feel slightly lightheaded. 

“Easy does it, Angel.” He said, “Are you ok? Do you need to go inside to rest for a bit?”

“No, I’m ok.” You replied, “I just stood too fast. Let’s go into the water, then we can cuddle in the cabana for a bit.”

“Cuddle?” You asked, smirking.

“Behave.” He chuckled, playfully swatting your butt. 

You laughed, taking his hand and the two of you walked to the water. There were some waves but the surf wasn’t overly active. Jake still made sure to keep you close and his hands on you at all times while you were both in the water. You waded out until you were mostly past the break, the water to your chest, but barely above Jake’s belly. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in as close as possible with your very pregnant belly between you. 

You leaned up on your tiptoes, your arms around his neck, pulling him down so you could kiss him. You didn’t hesitate to swipe your tongue over the seam of his lips, seeking entrance into his mouth. His own tongue came out to meet yours, the kiss deepening. He let his hands wander down to your butt, rubbing over your bikini clad cheeks. 

“What are your thoughts on sex on the beach, Angel?” Jake asked, his head dipping down to kiss over your neck and shoulder. 

“Oh my God.. I MISS those amazing little cocktails.” You sighed, “Penny makes the BEST Sex on the Beaches.”

“Angel, I was talking about literal sex on the beach.” He groaned, still trailing kisses over your collarbone, tasting the salt from the ocean water. 

“Pretty sure THAT is how I ended up pregnant, Stud.” You teased him.

“The night after the bonfire?” He asked, lifting his head to look at you, a smirk playing on his lips, “Seriously?”

“The timing is perfect.” You shrugged, “Lord knows I DRANK enough of those sneaky little cocktails that night…”

“I remember.” He said, his voice going husky, dropping deeper, “You suggested we do an experiment to see if actual sex on the beach was as good as the drink.” 

“Well, it looks like it exceeded expectations.” You giggled, pulling his head down to kiss him.

“So, how about round two?” He asked, his hands wandering back down to your butt. 

“I’m way too pregnant to end up with sand in unfortunate places, so how about sex in a cabana?” You compromised, smirking. 

“I think it’s time to head back to shore, Angel.” He replied, scooping you up bridal style and carrying you in towards the shore. 

“Jake!” You squealed, “Put me down! I am way too heavy!” 

“Angel, I can handle carrying my girls just fine.” He promised, “I would never let anything happen to either of you.”

“Such a softy.” You said, letting your fingers run over the wet hair at the nape of his neck.

“Don’t let that get out.” He teased, “I have a reputation to uphold.” 

“The gig is up, Babe.” You laughed, “Everyone knows you’re not really an asshole. As soon as they saw you with Ruben’s kids it was all over.”

He carried you out of the water and over the sand back to the cabana before setting you back on your feet. It had shades that could be pulled down for privacy and to block out more sun, which Jake took advantage of as soon as you got inside the cabana. There was a large sun lounger that looked more like a bed, in the middle of the cabana with small tables set up on each side. With the shades pulled on the sides and the light weight material used as a curtain in the front of the cabana let down, it gave you a little privacy from prying eyes of other resort guests. It was at least a private beach, only open to those staying at the resort. 

“This might have been easier before we were all wet.” You said, winding your arms around his neck as he came back to stand in front of you. “Now our suits are all clingy”

“Hmmm,” He hummed, leaning down to nibble at your jawline before working back towards your ear, whispering “I prefer my wife to be wet and clingy.” 

A shiver ran through your whole body, arousal flooding your system, soaking your already wet bikini bottoms.

“Jake” You moaned, trying to push up against him, as much as your very pregnant belly would allow, “I need you to fuck me.”

“Your wish is my command, Angel.” He replied, guiding you back towards the lounger. He untied your bikini top, letting it fall to the floor of the cabana, making sure to block you from view of the outside world. “Fuck, I love your boobs.”

“Thought you were an ass man, Stud.” You smirked, knowing that your husband had been infatuated with your boobs since you’d become pregnant. They had increased two cup sizes by this point in your pregnancy, and you were told they’d get even bigger once you were breastfeeding your daughter. Jake was intrigued by it. 

“When it comes to you, Angel there’s not a part of your body that doesn’t get me going.” He admitted, flashing his dimpled smile. He helped you to lay down on the lounger. He made sure you were propped up on the many decorative pillows and comfortable, leaning in for a quick kiss, before running his hands down over you, pausing to rest his hands on and gently kiss your bump, before continuing down, pulling your bikini bottoms off on his way.

The look of pure lust and adoration on your husband’s face was enough to give you confidence in your own body and not give in to the negative thoughts that tried to permeate your brain when you looked in the mirror. Your OB said it was normal as your body was rapidly changing, to have the negative feelings or insecurities but reminded you to be kind to yourself and if the thoughts became too intrusive to let her know so she could set you up with someone to talk to. Jake had been at that appointment and had made it his mission afterwards to make sure he knew how absolutely beautiful he found you and how incredible it was that you were growing an entire human. 

“I think you’re overdressed.” You smiled, allowing your eyes to hungrily track over his sun kissed body. “And I believe I was promised Sex on the Beach.”

A/N: There it is! My second ever Jake fic! What do you think??

Taglist:

@gracespicybradshaw

@friendly-neighborhood-peter

@oneelleandaneye

@super-btstrash-posts

@emma8895eb

@awesomebooklover17

@krismdavis

@mygyn 

@jayniebop

 @jstarr86

@cherrycola27

@harrysgothicbitch

@caidi-paris

 @senjoritanana

@sophham

@itsdesiree86

@shanimallina87

@brooke-stinson

@kmc1989

@djs8891

@chaoticassidy

@football1921

@sebastianstangirl01

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@callsignharper

@thewackywriter

@mazzbarnes

@callsignartemis

@CallSign-Vesta

@eternallyvenus

@m-rae23

@inthestars-underthesun

@waywardodysseys

@caitsymichelle13

@avengersfan25

@poppetbaby02

@avengersfan25

@jessicab1991

@kcloveswrestling

@rosedurin

@marvelouslyme96

@nerdy-in-all-things

@jacxx2

@cheyrenee

@els-marvelvsp

@erospecies

@butterfly-skinnylegend

@dempy

@beyondthesefourwalls

@lostinwonderland314

@roosterforme

@atarmychick007

@caitsymichelle13

@darksparklesficrecs

@nerdgirljen

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [1] - A Night Out

A.N: Here we go my loves, the first chapter! ❤️ I hope you'll like it, and please don't forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤️

Summary: A night out with an old friend can lead to surprises.

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don't condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to have a normal life.

Granted that was never in the cards but you liked to pretend from time to time. You knew it was selfish and incredibly dangerous as everyone kept reminding you, yet you didn’t care. After all, it was one of the very few luxuries you couldn’t afford and you were nothing if not determined.

Besides, considering since you were expected not to be a part of the family business, you figured you could enjoy the benefits for the time being.

So far, there was no sign of any bodyguards your father always made sure to put on your tail which meant he was blissfully unaware of where you were or what you were doing. If it were any other time, you would have been surprised by that alone but surprises seemed to be the theme of the week. To be completely honest, you had your doubts when your ex from college had contacted you to say he was moving to the city and wanted to catch up with you. Even though he was one of the very few ex-boyfriends you had broken up with on good terms, he still had an inkling about your family and most of the time, people were too intimidated by that to catch up with you.

With good reason.

But tonight was going to be different. Setting up a casual dinner and drinks night outside your father’s territory was a great first step for in your opinion, for a couple of hours you could pretend you were a normal girl who was having a normal night out with a normal guy.

You even drove your own car to the bar, something you hadn’t done in a long time.

“So yeah, let’s just say that it wasn’t the wisest decision.”

You let out a laugh, tilting your head.

“I don’t know Ethan,” you said. “Taking a girl to a horror themed corn maze? You get an A for effort.”

“In my defense, it was like two weeks after you broke up with me so I wasn’t thinking straight,” he said. “Besides, she said she liked horror movies.”

You hummed. “And how did that go?”

“Terribly,” he pointed out with a grin. “We got lost, and then I had this bright idea of finding the guide myself and we went in different directions, and she got out and I ended up getting even more lost.”

You pressed your palm on your mouth to hide your laugh.

“Then she sent the guide to find me,” he said and you cleared your throat, trying to keep a serious expression.

“You do realize you are the type of person who wouldn’t last an hour in a horror movie, right?”

“People who are trying to survive in horror movies have too much ambition if you ask me,” he said and sipped his drink. “How about you? Any terrible dates since our uh…fairytale romance?”

“We dated for like three months during sophomore year Ethan,” you said with a laugh and he nodded with a grin.

“They were good three months though.”

“Oh please,” you said. “I’m not even sure I could call that dating, I basically had to beg you to spend time with me.”

“We spent a lot of time—”

“In daylight,” you corrected yourself. “You had no problem finding time for me at night.”

He scrunched up his face, then nodded his head.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Yeah I’m…I’m sorry about that. I was an ass.”

“Water under the bridge,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “College is the perfect time for relationship mistakes, and to be honest I was kind of an idiot.”

“Oh come on Y/N,” he said with a chuckle. “I was the idiot. You were perfect, you still are.”

You scoffed.

“Not even close, trust me,” you said and raised your hand at the bartender, motioning for another drink. The bar wasn’t crowded by any means, only another couple by another booth and three men playing pool. A silence fell upon you and Ethan shifted his weight.

“So uh—can I ask you something?”

Your heart skipped a nervous beat but you made sure it didn’t show on your face. “Sure.”

“Was it…” he paused and took a deep breath. “Was it true?”

The waitress brought you your drink and you thanked her, then turned to Ethan again. “Hm?”

“You know, back in college there were all these rumors,” he stammered. “About your family and you never really said— whether they were true or not.”

Ah. Back to that, of course.

You had practiced this calmness way too many times for it to falter even for a moment, and you sipped your drink.

“I totally forgot,” you said. “Remind me what those rumors were?”

“People used to say your father—he and his business partners, I mean,” he said with a nervous laugh. “My friends used to say the city was divided between them.”

“Sounds quite medieval,” you pointed out, leaning back as a couple of men walked in, chattering. Ethan thought for a moment, then scoffed a laugh.

“Right,” he said. “I don’t know why I…don’t mind me. It does sound unreal, I mean—what are the chances that a couple of families rule the entire city, right?”

“I don’t know, I hear it was a thing in the 18th century,” you stated, catching the gaze of the man who had just walked up to the bar and ordered a drink. You eyed him up and down and by the time your gaze fell on the shape of the gun tucked underneath his jacket, you had already straightened your back, your whole body going tense.

“Jesus you should’ve heard the things they said. To be honest with you, I actually believed that whole underworld thing for some time,” Ethan said as the man said something to his friends while your eyes darted around the room, your heartbeat getting faster as you reached for the knife beside your plate.

Great.

This was not your ideal night out alright.

“Now to think about it, it’s not—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence when you threw the knife at one of the men and kicked the chair under Ethan, making him lose his balance before you flipped the table so that you could use it as a cover for you both as soon as the shooting started. The bullets wheezed past you, the couple by the other booth screaming while you pushed Ethan’s head down.

“What the hell is going on?!” he asked as you looked over the table for a second and turned to him, your heart beating in your ears, adrenaline rushing through you so fast that it made your head spin.

“I can explain later, do you have a gun with you?”

“What?!”

“I don’t think I should be repeating myself right now Ethan!” you hissed as shots echoed through the bar and he shook his head.

“No of course not!”

“The one time I ditch the bodyguards,” you grumbled “This is unbelievable…”

“Miss Y/N!” the man’s voice rang over the bar and you gritted your teeth. “The infamous princess. Such a surprise meeting you here, where are your daddy’s men?”

“On their way here I’m guessing but before they get here, I just have one question,” you called out. “Are you guys fucking idiots?”

He tsk tsked.

“That daddy of yours spoiled you too much,” he said. “Has anyone told you that?”

“Yeah, multiple men,” you retorted. “Didn’t end well for them I’ll tell you that.”

“I’d say it looks like it’ll end well for me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure buddy,” you said. “I’ll be surprised if you last the night.”

Several gunshots came from the corners of the bar, and you took cover again but before you could say anything else, you felt someone grab you and pull you upright. You grabbed the gun from him and fired it right at his knee, making him let out a scream of anguish and fall to the floor. The door of the kitchen was kicked open right before more guns were fired in the chaos which made it clear that it wasn’t Steve’s men who were trying to shoot you considering it was his territory, this was his one of many bars and these new people, whoever they were, were shooting at his men as well. It made absolutely zero sense that someone would attack you like this, especially since—

“Everyone stop or the next bullet goes through his head!”

 You turned to point the pistol at the owner of the voice but as soon as you did, your heart dropped to your stomach. The man –probably the leader— holding the gun at Ethan’s head smirked and motioned at you.

“Drop the gun sweetheart.”

“Y/N, don’t!” Ethan said, trying to get out of his grip but the man fired the gun through his shoulder, making him yell out in pain and you gritted your teeth. The headlights of a car flashed outside, capturing your attention for a moment before you lowered the gun, someone hastily grabbing it from you. The leader pushed Ethan to one of his friends and stepped closer to you, now aiming the gun at your face but you were way too good at keeping your fear under control in situations like these to flinch at it.

You’d had a lifetime of practice after all.

“So what do you say we take a little trip outside huh?” he asked and you arched a brow.

“What do you say you go fuck yourself?”

He cocked the gun and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh no, a gun,” you deadpanned, checking your fingernails. “Am I supposed to be scared now?”

“This is not your daddy’s territory, girl.”

You scoffed a laugh and lifted your glances from your nails. “Doesn’t matter, you idiot. The truce has been going on for years now, and anyone who breaks it will pay for that mistake with their lives. What is this, your first day on the job?”

“No one taught you not to smart mouth the man holding the gun?”

“No one taught you not to sign your own death sentence?” you asked back and he gave you a dry chuckle, taking a step towards you, still holding the gun.

“Keep talking like that,” he said. “Maybe I’ll take my time with you before handing you over to the boss.”

You opened your mouth to retort but before you could say anything, a deafening shot echoed through the room and blood splattered all over your face and your dress. The leader’s lifeless body dropped to the floor and you wiped at your face with a grimace before you turned to glare at your savior who looked almost amused at your annoyed expression.

“Bucky,” you gritted out and he winked at you, that arrogant grin you knew so well pulling at his lips.

“Hi Charm.”

[its-time-to-write]

happy new year, ig

don’t hold me like you know me

“Remember when you broke up with me and suddenly my instagram feed was all about how you fucked a model?”

Jamie grimaces. “Do you have to bring that up every fucking time we’re together?”

“Yes,” you reply. “It’s funny to me. And it’s my revenge for you being stupid.”

“Pretty sure you and mum are the only two who find it funny,” he grumbles.

You snuggle closer to him. It’s cold outside, but you’re both bundled up and under two blankets. Plus there’s a fire going and sure, it’s warmer inside where your families are, but it’s quieter out here.

You say, “Nah, Simon thinks it’s hilarious too,” and Jamie groans. 

“I’m a fucking idiot, okay? I get it.”

Your mum looks out the window and you pretend like you don’t notice. Yeah, you probably shouldn’t be out here with him. But she’s the one whose friends with Georgie and she’s the one who made the plans to spend Christmas together knowing full well what you and Jamie had been up to for the past year.

So she can’t really say anything.

It’s stupid. 

It’s so, so stupid. You swore off situationships but apparently Jamie is the exception and you rationalize it by saying you know exactly what you’re doing so it’s fine.

It’s fine.

You’re only here a few days and then Jamie’s going back to training and you’re going back to work.

“Got any plans for the year?” you ask. Jamie shrugs and it moves you around.

“Nah, got some brand deal shit Keeley’s set up but mostly just keep training. Got the fuckin’ World Cup this summer, so…” he trails off.

What he doesn’t say is, so I’ll be near you. You let it hang in the air.

Instead he says, “What about you?”

You watch the flames from the fire curl into the sky. “Yeah, I’ve got a lot going on, I guess. Mostly work. And I’m moving to London in the fall.”

Jamie makes a noise. “Don’t read into it,” you warn before he can say anything. “It’s not for you.”

He sighs. “The fuck are we doing? Shouldn’t be this hard. We both fucking like each other. What if we tried again?”

You laugh. “Jamieee. Absolutely not. We barely made it out last time. I’m actually not sure we did, to be honest. And our mums would be fucking pissed if we messed it up again.”

He’s quiet at that. Too quiet.

“How’s Roy Kent?” you ask in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Hairy old prick,” Jamie mutters out of habit. “Wants us to fucking win the Prem and the Champions League, like we ain’t fuckin’ trying.”

You laugh. “I’m assuming he’s also thinking about the World Cup?”

Jamie groans. “Don’t fucking remind me. I want to win all that shit too, but Royo’s sadistic. Got us training extra. Beard isn’t any better, either. Always got his nose in some fucking book.”

He’s complaining, but you know he doesn’t mean it. He loves this shit. And you’re glad the team’s stable from Ted’s move back to America.

“Got you something,” he says after a few more minutes of silence. He gently pushes you off him so he can reach into his pocket. 

You take the box from his hand and open it. It’s surprising. You’d already finished opening gifts, nothing particularly extravagant, and you certainly hadn’t expected anything else from Jamie. And definitely not as direct as this.

“Jamie,” you breathe, “how did you know?”

He grins as you look up to meet his eyes. “Asked around,” he replies. “Knew you’ve been wanting that bracelet forever and you’re too fucking stubborn to get it for yourself, so.”

He motions for you to hand it back to him, and you do. He takes it out and you extend your wrist. He fastens it gently. “You’ve gotta do more shit for yourself, yeah? Promise me.”

“Maybe,” you whisper, and he gives you a look. “Fine. But Jamie-”

“Kid,” he sighs.

“Don’t call me kid,” you warn. “You’re younger than me.”

“That’s why it’s fucking hilarious.”

“Jamie,” you try again. “Do you actually want to keep doing this? We see each other at the most random, inopportune times then we… you know…” you trail off.

“Fuck,” he interjects and you smack his arm. 

Ow, he mouths.

“Look. You never date anyone. Everyone’s always speculating about it, and you never do. And I just wonder- I mean, I don’t want to presume but it seems like-”

“It is,” he says. “Can’t fucking be with someone else when I think about you all the time, can I?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Jamie Tartt. That is the stupidest line you’ve ever pulled.”

He’s already shaking his head before you’re done speaking. “Ain’t a line.”

Georgie looks through the window and smiles at the pair of you. It’s getting colder, and you’ll have to go inside soon, but you want to finish this conversation. You aren’t sure when you’ll have Jamie like this again.

“Why did you break up with me?”

He looks away at the fire, the sky, anything that isn’t your face. “Dunno.”

“Liar.”

He looks back. “You need someone better. I got scared. Same shit as always.”

You wrinkle your nose again. “That’s shit. Try again.”

Jamie toys with the bracelet on your wrist. You should slap him away, you should.

You don’t.

“I did get scared,” he says again. “Fucking… terrified. Been in love with you since I were eight and following you around, weren’t I? Everyone says shit like I don’t know what I’m doing, I fucking need to play the field or what fucking ever, and I guess I… listened. Then felt fucking guilty as shit.” 

Neither of you are crying. It’s not that type of conversation.

“So.”

“So,” he echoes.

“We’re getting married,” he comments when you don’t say anything more, and that makes you laugh.

You push yourself out of Jamie’s arms and head to the door. “That’s ridiculous of you to say. And I’m cold. I’m changing and then I’m going out, want to come? Luiza texted.”

Jamie looks at you, and you can tell he’s debating his options carefully.

“Sure,” he finally says, the words puffing out of his mouth into the freezing air. “Sure.”

[hiraethwa]

𓈒 𓏸 — ghost of you

dancing through our house with the ghost of you

pairing: kuroo x reader a/n: pls yell at me thank you <3 i was on my period when the idea was concocted, blame my period :) word count: 6.7k bonus: listen to playlist while reading

“all we have to do is lower the net.” nekomata sensei’s comment became words that shaped kuroo tetsuro’s past, present and future. words that ignited his love for volleyball and fueled his purpose.

kuroo tetsuro, whose entire life mission is to lower the net, his passion for volleyball being the driving force to make the sport accessible for all. kuroo tetsuro, who joined the japan volleyball association straight out of university, because he is certain of his purpose. 

kuroo tetsuro, whose singular life mission is to lower the net—that is, until he met you, the official setter for japan’s national women’s volleyball team at the young age of 21. 

at 24, kuroo had been in the jva sports promotional division for a few years now, having seen all sorts of players whether it be setters or spikers, liberos or middle blockers. but you, with your flawless setting form, the cunningness in your eyes and the cogs spinning behind them, and your utmost dedication to your spikers, you caught him by surprise. 

his immediate thought was that your impeccable technique reminded him of kageyama. certainly, to say that would be an insult to who you are as a setter. after all, you are you and he is him. no two setters are the same. 

kuroo might as well have fallen to his knees the moment he saw your seamless cross court set. 

by the grace of some deity, kuroo tetsuro did not. he somehow managed to introduce himself to you without embarrassing himself when your team took a break, using his position with the jva as an excuse. apparently, it was something he did with all the new players for the national team—a complete lie that he came up with on the fly. 

“kuroo tetsuro, kuroo-san.” he thinks he was a goner the moment he heard his name rolling off your tongue, the timbre of your voice dulcet yet firm, as he handed you his business card. he almost asked you to call him tetsuro, but he caught himself in time, cursing kenma for infecting him with his casual mannerisms.

since that day, kuroo started to find excuses to stop by the women’s volleyball practice more often, for case studies, he said. he learned that you started playing volleyball at 8, and that you wanted to be a setter because you hated digs, and you loved doing sets and coming up with strategies to mess with the opposing team’s minds. 

thanks to the internet, he also learned that you are one of the most prominent, rising setters in the global volleyball scene, one of a handful of setters who has an unreadable setting form.

“i’m still not good at serving though,” you said to him one day, frowning. he opened his mouth to disagree, but one of the other players waved at you to get back to practice. you commented offhandedly, “anyway, yuki-senpai told me you are showing up a lot lately since i joined.”

you didn’t give him a chance to explain himself, however, dropping your towel on the bench and running back to the court. kuroo promised himself that he would ask you out the next time he sees you. 

at least, that was what he told himself for the last three times he stopped by practice in the past two weeks. 

“you know, i was under the impression that the jva office is in this building, but i recently found out that it’s actually two train stations away.” you took a swig of your pocari sweat, composing yourself for your next question. “is there a reason you seem to always be here, kuroo-san?”

that was the day kuroo folded, finally asking you out on a proper date. he somehow managed to get a reservation for two at 8pm at the up-and-coming omakase place in ginza by calling in a few favors. 

you knocked the breath out of him when you exited the subway gates in a flowy summer dress. he almost forgot his own name as you walked up to him, a shy smile on your lips after locating him in the rush hour crowd. 

to this day, he wonders how you did it—finding him, another suited office worker in the packed subway station.

to his disappointment, he found himself outside the restaurant after an uneventful dinner. the fine dining atmosphere provided little to no opening for any meaningful conversation, save for a few hushed whispers exchanged between the two of you. 

looking at you, he wondered if you would give him a second chance. you, with stars in your eyes and a light blush across your cheeks, courtesy of the sake you drank. 

probably not. kuroo tetsuro was too much of a coward to ask, for he prepared to bid you good night just as you opened your mouth to say something.

“i know a yakitori place not far from here, wanna go?” kuroo blinked, lifting his head to meet your eyes, surprise shining through his own.

a grin threatened to split his face. “with you? anywhere.” 

you ended up bonding over meat skewers and beers in the cramped hole-in-the-wall yakitori bar frequented by salarymen after long days of work better than you did at the fancy omakase restaurant.

that night kuroo tetsuro learned that despite your star-studded status, you never learned to enjoy the luxury that came with it, preferring to keep to the familiar comforts of your university days.

“i know a really good onigiri place,” kuroo remarked at the end of the night, having ridden the train back to your place with you to ensure you get home safe and sound. 

“oh? maybe i know where it is,” curiosity lined your eyes as you prattled off the top onigiri restaurants you have found in tokyo. “so, where is it, kuroo-san?”

“osaka,” kuroo grinned at you. he was taking a rather large gamble, asking you on a second date to a different city, but he had a feeling you would say yes. 

you blinked, a smile growing at your lips, and without missing another beat, “i hear it’s only two hours away by shinkansen.”

just like that, kuroo met his match in you. he never stood a chance against you; one date quickly turned into two, into three, and many, many more. 

it was a whirlwind romance across the eastern country full of stolen time shared with each other. a weekend in okinawa, only the two of you with the clear skies and the vast ocean. strolling through the streets of osaka, young and in love. meeting you in another city during your away games, proudly cheering your team on. 

visiting the daigo-ji temple late fall in kyoto, making saisen, the customary money offering, with five-yen coins before bowing with pressed palms and offering your prayers. kuroo had stolen a glance at you in that short moment, finding himself hoping that the gods were listening to his prayers. 

then a week later, when kuroo got on one knee just a few weeks shy of your one year anniversary, ring in hand, asking you to be his wife, you had said yes without hesitation. that day, he promised himself that you would not end up like his parents.

you got married in the middle of volleyball season, spurred on by the desire to have your wedding anniversary on the same date as your dating anniversary. it was an intimate event, only close family and friends were invited to the celebration of your love. you had both agreed that it was best to keep it quiet from the press to avoid any unwanted public attention—and pressure.

and so you exchanged your vows under an arch draped with dusk pink flowers of every type surrounded by the people who knew you best; to cherish and to hold the other always, and to remember love. tears of happiness were shed at the altar, a river merely from the two of you. 

even with two left feet, you danced the night away with the love of your life, before the guests sent you off on your short honeymoon getaway to an onsen resort at fuji-san. only two people who were madly in love, basking in each other’s undivided attention before duty calls you back to tokyo. 

and so kuroo tetsuro finds another purpose in life—you. 

now, kuroo admits that it has been a while since he got time to have you to himself. both your work have been swallowing up your time since you got back from fuji-san almost a year ago, but you still managed to make time for each other, even if you are not going on dates. 

he thinks he is a lucky man to have the honor of calling you his wife.

almost a whole year already, huh. kuroo makes a mental note to make a reservation at the restaurant where he proposed to you. 

“kuroo-san, yoshida-san wants to see you.” ah, yes, work calls. the previous thought slips his mind by the time he leaves his boss’s office. 

soon enough, the week rolls by. 

kuroo knows that he fucked up when he finds 11 missed calls from you after he sent his client off. three hours ago, nine of them within the span of the first thirty minutes, and two final attempts two hours ago. his heart drops as his eyes land on the four digit date on his homescreen. he missed your anniversary dinner.

fuck. you don’t pick up on the first two calls. his heart thunders in his chest. he thinks he hears ringing in his ears that is not the dial tone, but finally, thankfully, you pick up on the third. 

“sweetheart, i am so sorry—” he blurts, strings of apologies that fall naturally from his mouth as he begs for your forgiveness. “i’m on my way home, we can still go out to the yakitori place you love—”

“i’m not home.” silence stretches between the two of you as kuroo fumbles for his words. careful, he needs to be careful of his choice of words right now. 

“where are you? c-can i come find you?” he stumbles over his words, his heart still pounding too fast. all he can think about is how much he fucked up.

kuroo holds his breath, praying to the gods to look kindly upon him as he waits for your answer. in all honesty, you have every right to tell him off right now, but he desperately hopes otherwise. “i’m at the training center.”

of course. why didn’t he think of it? whenever you are frustrated, you train and let yourself loose on the court. “wait for me, i’ll be there in 20.”

you are waiting in the lobby of the facility when he gets there, panting after running the four blocks over from the subway station. “y/n, sweetheart,” he almost knocks you over with the sheer intensity of his embrace, squeezing the air of your lungs. 

“tetsuro, you’re late,” a frown mars your beautiful features once he releases you, and he finds himself smoothing over the knot between your eyebrows. 

“i know, i am sorry, love.” he pulls you close, your chin resting on his shoulder. “will you let me make it up to you?”

there is a second of hesitation before you answer, “okay.” but kuroo misses the look of conflict that flashes across your face, distracted with dissuading his own fears that your marriage is safe, intact.

he vows to never let you go through that again. though it never comes to that.

it’s kageyama tobio that makes you realize something is wrong with your marriage. 

kageyama tobio, the pinnacle of setters in men’s volleyball as introduced by your then boyfriend, whose contact was lighting up your phone, startled you as you attempted to make dinner. 

shit, shit, shit. you forgot to tell him that you won’t be able to make your monthly practice meetup today, having sprained your ankle at the practice match against france a few days ago. well… sprained would be understating the bluish-purple color blossoming on your left foot. 

you fumbled for your phone, picking up the call. “kageyama-san?” the slim device is balanced between your ear and shoulder as you try to flip the omelette. damn it, it’s burnt. “ah, sorry. i forgot to tell you that i won’t be able to make it to practice today.”

“it’s fine, kuroo-san. i was at your match on sunday. are you doing alright?” right, the match that tetsuro missed again because of something that came at work with his client. work that took precedence over his promise to you to attend the match.  

“oh, that? i’m fine,” you absentmindedly reached for a plate a little too far to the left, causing you to put your weight on your left foot as you catch your balance. you muffled the cry rising from your throat, hoping it didn’t carry over the call. 

“that didn’t sound like you are fine.” your hands are placed on the counter, holding yourself up as you steadied yourself on your right foot. your rapid heartbeat boomed in your ears, uneven breaths leaving your mouth in small pants as you realize you could have fallen and cracked your head open on the corner of the countertop. “send me your address, i’ll be over soon.”

fuck. you felt pathetic, unable to do mundane tasks that take little to no effort with two functional ankles. but this, this you could do. hunger forgotten, you slid down next to the stove, knees to your chest, and typed in your home address to the other setter.

the buzz of your doorbell startled you from doom scrolling social media a good 45 minutes later. 

you scooted over the door on your knees, unlocking the front door for kageyama, mortifyingly realizing a second too late that you should have gotten to your foot to greet your guest.

“sorry, i just need to get up—” he wordlessly lent you a hand for support as you rose up on your good foot, helping you hobble over to the living room. “thanks.”

kageyama tobio frowned at you, displeasure etched into the lines of his forehead, eyes concentrated on your discolored ankle. “it looks worse than it feels.”

he did not trust your words, for he was squatting down in front of the couch to take a look at your injury. “then this shouldn’t hurt, right?” his finger reached out to poke your ankle. 

“don’t—” you winced, eyes closed in anticipation of the pain that would follow. but there isn’t any, your eyes flying open to find kageyama staring back at you in disappointment. 

“kuroo-san, you need to get this looked at. it looks serious.” reluctantly, you agreed with him, expressing your consent for him to call the team physician in to assess your condition.

watching kageyama step outside your home to make the call, you felt something akin to lightning cleaving your chest open, heart exposed and breaking as you realized how much you yearned for tetsuro to be the one here right now, fussing over you. 

tetsuro had been surprised to find you still at home at 9am on a monday morning. 

“i twisted my ankle.” you had stated, looking up from your book momentarily when you heard him shuffling out of the bedroom dressed for work. you appreciated the view, unable to recall the last time you saw him in a suit since your schedules rarely overlapped with yours starting early in the day, and his ending late at night. 

“make sure to ice it, sweetheart.” he had commented distractedly, attention on his work tablet, kissing you on your forehead on his way out. it’s not that tetsuro doesn’t love you, he has just grown forgetful over time, complacent in your marriage. 

it’s too bad that complacency kills, sniffing out the weaknesses in the foundation of your love, snaking its way into crevices in the bedrock of your marriage. and just like water, it erodes the strongest rock with persistence and time. 

there were only two things you loved more than life itself. one being kuroo tetsuro, the other being volleyball. and if your marriage is falling apart… what if your stubbornness made your injury worse than it was? if you didn’t have volleyball, the one thing you could always fall back on, then what would you even live for?

suddenly the room felt too small, closing in around you. your breathing turned heavy, the air in your lungs no longer enough to supply life-bearing oxygen to your bloodstream.

“you’re going to be fine.” kageyama’s voice broke you away from your internal panic. lost in your thoughts, you didn’t even hear the front door close. he leaned against the wall in the hallway, jerking his chin at you. “what if this injury cost me the spot on the olympic roster? what if i can’t play in the olympics? what if my smallest misstep cost me everything? what if i can’t play volleyball ever again?”

“what are you—” he waved his hand, cutting you off mid sentence. 

“that’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?” kageyama shook his head at you. “but kuroo-san, you’re the best setter we have, and you’re strong. you’ll make it back.” his matter-of-fact statement left no room for argument. 

still, your smile did not reach your eyes. tired, you were so tired. “thanks, kageyama-san.”

“eat. the food is getting cold.” you nodded, digging into the takeout kageyama brought with him—shiozake with rice, once again wishing that tetsuro was here instead of kageyama. you swallow your food forcefully, as if the thought of tetsuro being here and telling you that the salted salmon would be beneficial for your body repairing itself didn’t cause you to crumble. 

the other setter pretended he didn’t see the tears gliding down your cheeks into your food, quietly keeping you company until the physician showed up. 

the team physician diagnosed you with a grade 2 ankle sprain and prescribed you plenty of rest and burden off your ankle—basically the equivalent of a bed rest as a professional athlete. she also made sure to scold you for not taking it easy after your injury and not alerting her sooner before leaving. 

“is kuroo-san going to be back soon?” kageyama asked, glancing at the clock that was ticking close to 9pm. the winter (almost spring) sun had disappeared down the horizon a long time ago, and you realized he meant your husband. 

“do i look like an invalid, kageyama-san? i’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” 

“duly noted, kuroo-san.” he smiled wryly at you. kageyama slipped his shoes on, opening his mouth to say something before deciding otherwise. the front door clicked shut behind him, leaving you with his parting words of “see you next month”.

next month. he said next month. the physician had anticipated your sprain to heal in four to six weeks, with the partial tearing of your ankle ligament. four weeks. you can give yourself that. you can work with that. just 28 days before you get back on the court where you lived and breathed. just one foot forward at a time.

but those thoughts flew out of your mind as tetsuro came home early. 10:09pm. that was early for your husband who sometimes came home in the middle of the night smelling like cigarettes and beer—or not at all, when he pulled all-nighters in his office.

tetsuro, whose tie is loosened and slightly crooked, examined your foot, a frown on his handsome face. tetsuro, who is cleaning up the mess of dishes in the sink, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, as he asked about your day. 

tetsuro, who made you forget all your worries and troubles about your marriage, as he doted on you, making sure you had enough water in the glass on your nightstand and propping your ankle on a pillow. 

tetsuro, who made an effort to be there for you in the following weeks, making breakfast before he goes to work, leaving lunch for you in the fridge and taking his work home by 6pm so he could make you dinner. tetsuro, who took some days to work from home in the beginning, taking care of you and holding you tightly in his arms when you revealed your fears about the upcoming olympics, wiping the tears that stained your face away as if they were never there. 

you remembered why you fell in love with kuroo tetsuro. 

you return to the court after five weeks at home, restlessness in your bones from the long period of inactivity. you know tetsuro felt it too, eager to dive back into his work after holding himself back the first few weeks to take care of you. that made the two of you.  

after two weeks, you both agreed that you have recovered enough for him to return to the office full-time. by the fifth week, he has gone back to his former habit of staying at work into the late nights and early mornings.

you convinced yourself that your husband needed to catch up on the work that was on the backburner when he had to take care of you. reassured yourself that the lack of intimacy was due to your recovery and work taking its toll on your husband. 

your marriage wasn’t falling apart before your eyes. right?

you first brought your worry up to him after a month rolled by, feeling relieved when he started coming home by dinner again, only to find him slipping back into his routine. so you do it again. and again. 

and again.

but as more weeks fly by, the olympics on the horizon, his behavior unchanged despite your attempts at saving your marriage, you start to wonder if he remembered why he fell in love with you. 

you can’t say that tetsuro never makes an effort. he does, although work seems to always be on the forefront of his mind, taking up whatever space is in his head.

“can i call you back, sweetheart? suzuki-san wants to speak to me about my proposal.” you presume suzuki-san is his boss, even though the name sounds unfamiliar to you. 

“sure, but it’s just— honey, we barely see each other anymore.” it’s a slap to the face when you realize you’re speaking to the dial tone. 

it feels as though each time you take a step forward to repair your relationship, you take two steps back. kuroo’s work always comes up on top. the better he gets at his job, the more in demand he becomes, the more projects with high visibility gets assigned to him, the more his passion for volleyball takes him away from you. 

you are at the crossroads within yourself, each turn at odds with your beliefs, your wishes, your love for kuroo tetsuro. you never faulted him for being so devoted to his job. after all, are you not the same? how can you fault him for something you love about him? 

assigning blame is not equivalent to feeling resentment, however. you hated the feeling of resentment towards kuroo with each missed date, with each broken promise, with each night of waking up to a cold bed. you were afraid of what awaits you at the end of the road. 

you love kuroo tetsuro. that is a fact. you love yourself. that is also a fact.

so how can you ever make him choose between you and volleyball? you will not force that ultimatum upon him, not even knowing your own answer to it. but you love kuroo tetsuro, the same way you love volleyball. the same way he loves volleyball. 

you decide you would rather be the villain in his story before you make him choose. 

you love kuroo tetsuro. that is why you made your decision to leave with love in your heart before love turns to poison. after all, love and hate go hand in hand, and you are already walking the fine line between them. 

you make an appointment with his secretary, smiling wistfully at her as you walk into his office. kuroo has climbed the ladder to a height you can no longer reach. 

the cubicle that you used to drop by is now occupied by an unfamiliar face, where photos of the two of you once covered one entire wall. in contrast, his neat office is effectively devoid of all traces of your relationship, save for the ring on his finger. 

“sweetheart?” he perks up at the sight of you before a frown appears on his handsome face. his bedhead still a constant feature of his. at least some things never change. “it’s great to see you, but i have a 2pm coming in soon.”

his comment should not hurt as much as it does. but of course it does, you still love kuroo desperately, you’re just not sure if that is enough anymore. 

“kuroo, i’m your 2pm.”

“oh,” confusion flashes across his features for a quick second before it disappears. “well, what can i do for you, sweetheart?”

for all the different ways you have thought of this conversation going, all the different ways of easing into the topic, you can’t seem to find the words to break his heart. 

right person, wrong time. you would be lying if you said you never thought of it. of what could have been if you met him later on in his career, when he has done all he wanted to do, when he has achieved what he set out for. would he have time for you then?

would it be the kuroo tetsuro you fell in love with?

that was the most difficult question you grappled with the past few weeks as you waited for your lawyer to draft the papers. would your relationship work out if you had met each other in your prime, perhaps a few years from now, when you have both reached the height of your careers? when the strenuous uphill battles of establishing yourselves in your fields are over?

perhaps. perhaps you could have settled down, the days of grinding far behind you. perhaps you could have had the happily ever after you both deserved.

answers that will forever evade you because in this timeline, in this universe, you met too early, too young. right person, wrong time.

you wordlessly hand him the brown packet of divorce papers. there are simply no words that would make this any easier.

“what are these—” he slumps in his chair, defeat written in his being. “divorce? sweetheart, isn’t this going too far? we can talk things out when i come home. i don’t have time right now.”

“kuroo, you haven’t had time in a long while. that is why i am filing for divorce.”

“we talked about this. i am busy now, but i will have time for us later. all the work i am doing is for our future. please, y/n.”

“but i don’t need your time later. i need it now, kuroo.” you grip the edge of his table tightly, knuckles turning white with force. and yet, tears still slip from your eyes. “sign the papers, tetsuro. just let me go.”

if you’re the one ending the marriage, why does it feel like your heart is ripped out of your chest?

kuroo has seen you cry a total of three times in your entire relationship. once when you got married. second when your maternal grandfather passed away. third when you hurt your ankle, unsure if you would be able to compete in the olympics. tears that shocked him to the core, because he knows you mean it. 

minutes pass by without another word exchanged between you. stolen minutes that used to be full of laughter and hushed conversations. 

you see it now, you think. the time that used to be carved out of your days for each other, whether it was a quick call or lunch, sharing downtime before bed watching some tv or simply cuddling and merely enjoying each other’s presence. you both used to do that, used to each other’s packed schedules. somewhere along the line, kuroo stopped. 

you did too, not pushing him harder to give you more time sooner. you tried to play the role of an understanding wife and support his dreams until it was too late. to what end?

in the end, you both failed each other. 

it was that realization that made you understand — you and kuroo tetsuro were doomed from the start. doomed by your love. doomed by the very thing that brought you together. two souls in the universe shooting in opposite trajectories, fated to cross paths for a brief moment in time before barreling onwards to your next destination, destined for loneliness.

but kuroo refused to give up without a fight. though you wondered if it was because he loved you or because he felt like he had to. 

you went on dates every week and kuroo came home for dinner every night. he kissed you on your forehead every night before you turned on your side, two strangers sharing the same bed. 

the two of you tiptoeing over the broken pieces of your marriage, choosing to turn a blind eye to the way your hands don’t seem to fit quite right. the chopsticks you made in a workshop to commemorate your anniversary warped in the dishwasher from disregard. the shape of your bodies no longer fitting together like two puzzle pieces, as if you have outgrown each other.

the cup of matcha on your side of the table has long since gone cold. you didn’t have the heart to remind your husband that you don’t like the grassy drink anymore, hadn’t in a while. 

you see a husband who is desperately trying to save his marriage, but you also notice the lines in the corners of his eyes, the smiles that don't seem to reach his eyes no more. the cracks in his composure when he loses his temper. 

his efforts felt forced, duty-bound. so were yours. it wasn’t until that understanding that you finally put a name to the reason you are still trying after months—you were both scared of losing the familiarity, the ghost of your past selves still fighting to hold onto what once was. 

for three whole weeks during the olympics, you mull over the packet of papers that still sits untouched beneath your winter clothes in your bottom drawer of your shared apartment. by the time you fly home to japan, your mind is made.

this time though, you think kuroo saw it coming. 

“can’t you see that i am trying my best here?” the shadows underneath his eyes remind you of a past that you cannot return to. 

“sometimes our best is still too late.” kuroo y/n no longer sounds quite right coming off your tongue. 

the evidence of your crumbling marriage lies bare in your absence. you could tell from the piles of project folders on your kitchen island that kuroo had been working himself to the bones while you were away, glad for the reprieve from splitting his focus between you and work. 

“but i love you.”

“does the moon die every morning for the sun because that is all it knows or because it loves the sun?”

kuroo slumps next to you, face buried in his hands. 

“don’t leave me, y/n.” his voice was broken and small. 

“it’s okay, tetsuro. it’s okay to let me go. we had a good run. just because we couldn’t last didn’t mean we failed.” you let kuroo find comfort in your arms one last time, running your fingers through his black hair and rubbing his back tenderly. “it’s okay.”

and so he lets you go, his name scrawled on each dotted line on the damned papers. 

by the end, you still loved kuroo tetsuro. you were just no longer in love with him. though strangely, it didn't hurt any less when you let the heavy door shut behind you, the key to what was once your home left on top of the shoe cabinet, your life packed in just two suitcases as you leave japan for good. 

two years have passed since you filed the papers and changed your name back to oumae y/n, but you look just as beautiful as the day he laid his eyes on you, standing in front of him after the all stars game, the match he put together with his bare hands for japan’s monster generation. you are beautiful, and you are here. in person. right in front of him. 

he wonders if he had died and gone to heaven because whatever gods are out there have listened to his prayers, and answered again. 

kuroo thinks he should probably get on the ground, grovel on his knees and beg for you to take him back. he knows you wouldn’t though, you were always disciplined like that. but you never looked back, another thing he loved dearly about you.

you still looked at him like you see through him to the core of who he was, seemingly able to get a perfect read on people you meet. 

“what?” you had woken up to kuroo admiring you in your sleep, the sun streaming in through the blinds hitting your face at just the right angle that kuroo thinks you might be an angel from heaven.

“nothing, just admiring how much of a gremlin you look like when sleeping.” your jaw had dropped open at kuroo’s audacity, causing him to cackle loudly as you smacked him with a pillow. 

“careful now, don’t knock over the coffee,” kuroo stuck his tongue out at you childishly. you tucked your hair behind your ear, carefully lifting the coffee mug to your lips, white sheet gathered under your arms to cover your naked body. 

though there is more depth behind your eyes now, more restraint written in your body language. and the coffee mug now sits untouched on the nightstand on your side of the bed, as if you’re still there in that apartment, laughing, dancing, waking up next to him if he closed his eyes and dreamed hard enough.

he racks his brain of the possible lines he could open the conversation with, ending up with a lame “did you enjoy the match, y/n?” y/n, not sweetheart, because he has long since lost the privilege to use that name when it came to you.

despite himself, and his knowing of you, he can’t help the small hope that flares to life within him at the sight of you. he knows that you have moved abroad to italy, joining aeroitalia smi roma since you went your separate ways. he still wakes up each morning, scouring news websites for anything about you, a habit he formed after he stopped waking up to a warmness on your side of the bed.

“kuroo,” you give him a polite smile, reminding him of the distance that now stretches miles between the two of you. kuroo, you called him kuroo. right, it has been a while since kuroo belonged to both of you. “it was an amazing match. all thanks to you, i am sure?”

it’s only natural that he can’t help the wide grin on his face, proud of his sweat and tears, his project that he spent years planning for to be perfect, working to establish faith and credibility before finally pitching it to the higher ups. time that he dedicated to work instead of his wife. 

the stark reminder wipes the grin off his face, making him grow serious once more.

“tell me, how have you been? how’s italy treating you?”

“i’m doing well. italy is beautiful, you should visit someday.” he takes a step closer to you, but you make no move to distance yourself. 

so he takes another step, hand outreached towards you. he missed you so much. he wonders if you did too. “i’m so sorry, y/n, i—”

but a voice behind him cuts him off, “kuroo-san, y/n.”

he wishes that he is mistaken in hearing the gentleness in the olympian setter’s voice when he said your name. just as he realizes whose number is on the jersey you are wearing. 

kageyama tobio stands next to you, too close to just be friends. “everything good here?” kuroo wishes that he is mistaken in seeing the softness in kageyama’s eyes sweeping over you from head to toe to make sure you are alright.

“of course. go ahead, i will catch up to you.” the dark-haired setter cocks his head at you, a silent conversation passes between the two of you before he decides that he is satisfied with whatever it is you conveyed to him wordlessly and leaves the two of you alone. 

kuroo stumbles over his thoughts, shock seeping into his system. you had moved on. with kageyama. 

betrayal sears hot across his chest as he recalls kageyama calling him when you had injured your ankle, worry carrying over the line. he didn’t think much of it then, rushing home as soon as he could to take care of you. 

even so, it was kageyama, practically a work colleague who noticed that your injury was much more serious than you let on. it was kageyama, who made sure a doctor saw to your injury, not kuroo, your husband. your ex-husband. 

did whatever you had with kageyama start then?

kuroo shoves that awful thought down, deep within himself where it would never see the light of day. you would never do that to him. he forces the words out of his mouth, anything to keep his mind from ever going back to that. “kageyama, huh?”

“he is the better half of me.” the sincerity in your voice makes him envious of the setter. the word unfair crosses his thoughts, but he also banishes that. kuroo had a chance with you first. he built a whole life with you before he threw it all away. 

he must not have shut out that repulsive thought as well as he thought because you sniff out the doubt in him as you always did. “ask me, kuroo.”

“when did you two…?” he does not dare to ask it outright, finding it offensive even on your behalf.

but somehow you know the question he is asking. “it happened in italy after i moved there.” the unspoken words relieving the heaviness on his chest. i didn’t cheat on you. 

“are you happy?” he could not help but ask. you hadn’t seemed happy in the last few months of your marriage, you hadn’t been in a long time because of his negligence as your husband.

“yes, i am.” your reply is quick and firm.

“good.” because gods know that he was not a good husband to you. because you deserved the very best anyone had to offer. and if it was kageyama who could do that, not him, kuroo could live with that. what choice does he have but to live with the fact that he let you slip through his fingers by his own fault?

yet he could not help the words that tumble out of his lips. “do you think it could have been different if i—” 

“don’t go down that path, kuroo, whatever answer you find at the end of it will not be kind to you. but to answer your question, i don’t think we were meant to be.” 

right. the past should stay where it belongs. only, kuroo wishes that you weren’t the only one who fell out of love. why didn’t he remember sooner before it was too late?

silence falls between the two of you, but you must have decided that you are satisfied with whatever it is you see in him, bidding him goodbye one last time. 

“take care, kuroo tetsuro.” it hits him your final words to him were the same as your first ones, his name slipping out in a dulcet whisper. only this time it carries a finality it didn’t used to.

kuroo tetsuro, whose entire life mission is to lower the net. he has achieved it—but at what cost?

tags: @tulip-room @bookskeepers a/n pt 2: notice how tetsuro slowly becomes kuroo and i oop—

complaint box askbox open

looking for more? browse the library

[kitchenisking]

August Fic Rec

My loves, just a quick reminder that all the rec are tagged at the bottom for easy access to the rest of my recs. and lets not forget to send love to our writers with comments and kudos❤️

to be with those I like by sheafrotherdon - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 9,323, sterek)

It's Deaton who tells Derek that Stiles is back in town, a broken marriage behind him, his daughter in tow.

Fixer Upper by Arsenic - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 39,169, sterek)

After the events of 5a, Stiles is estranged from Scott--and by association, the pack. Derek is off finding himself, or, at least, Germany and some other places. There's a lot of texting and post cards and then Derek comes back to find Stiles missing. Worse, nobody seems to remember Stiles existing.

"Here's to the best and most unconventional decision ever made in Vegas." byEvanesDust - (Rating: T, Words: 917, sterek)

The last thing Stiles expected when he woke up was to be in bed with Derek. Actually, scratch that. The last thing Stiles expected when he woke up was to be married.

Howl Ya' Doin' ? by wanderingeyre - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 14,196, sterek)

The first few posts of “Howl Ya Doin’?” were just Stiles talking about being a human in a werewolf pack. Then Derek accidentally walked in on Stiles live streaming and Stiles pulled him into an impromptu Q&A about being a born wolf. That video went viral, much to Derek’s horror and Stiles’s barely concealed glee.

Heart's on Fire by julietangel - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 6,696, sterek)

Stiles should have known it was him, but he blames the games for distracting him from his soulmate.

Torn Apart and Set Anew by Hedwig221b - (Rating: Mature, Words: 18,681, sterek)

“Someone’s here,” Stiles whispered, feeling weirdly numb.

The metal latch clicked. With ice filling his lungs and his fingers shaking terribly, Stiles swiveled his head in the direction of a window and froze for a beat of a second.

There was a face behind the glass.

Forgettable and plain, but at the same time familiar face.

Hello by nightlight9 - (Rating: T, Words: 9,725, sterek)

Stiles calls Derek's cellphone years after having no contact, leaving voicemails for the werewolf though there is never a reply. Then when the number becomes disconnected, Stiles has to venture back to the home that they had build together before he left in order to find out what has happened to the man he loved. The answer is not what he expects, and it makes him evaluate what he left behind.

Deputized by WhoNatural - (Rating: T, Words: 2,423, sterek)

dep·u·tize verb temporarily act or speak as a deputy. synonyms: stand in for, sit in for, fill in for, cover for, substitute for, replace

”"He’s too old for you," Derek grunts, and, shit - Stiles looks indignant.

I Trust You by buckysharons - (Rating: Mature, Words: 1,052, sterek)

stiles let’s derek feed off of him for the first time

Neon Flashing Signs by Karla_Kattz - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 13,799, sterek)

“I don’t know, it’s just…” Derek trails off. “Me being in a room full of alphas?” Stiles tries to help out with words. “Yeah, but… but not only?” Derek sighs. Stiles waits patiently for his boyfriend to gather his thoughts. “You know, I’m always protective of you, but my wolf, it’s never been that anxious. I can’t describe it better.” “We aren’t in a life or death situation. It’s just a Convention. I’ve met other alphas before, plenty of them and sure, I haven’t met them all at once, but still. Plus there are other omegas too,” he tries to resonate. “And I can look after myself. I’m not a damsel in distress.” Seriously, Stiles is a smart omega, raised by a Sheriff. He’s a master of small talk. What can possibly happen, right?

——— Where the pack attends a Werewolf Convention and nothing of what happens was on Stiles‘ bingo card.

[actual-changeling]

I know a lot of people interpret Scully's reaction to Mulder's love confession in 'Triangle' as her assuming that he is drugged up and talking nonsense.

There is another (worse) option, though.

"Oh brother" is definitely not what you respond if you're taking it seriously, we can probably agree on that, but i don't think potential drugs are the reasons here.

Let's look back a little. I'm working with the assumption that 'Folie a Deux' is set in May of 1998 with FtF taking place in August. 'The Beginning' happens sometime in September of the same year. If we use this as our timeline, we have a total of around five months during which a LOT of shit happens.

'Folie a Deux' is important because this is the "original" drugged up love confession Scully hears when Mulder is in the psychward. It gets to her, she thinks he is being genuine and does what he asked her to do.

More important than the act itself is what he tells her. I assume most of us have that conversation memorized, but just as a reminder:

"Scully, you have to believe me. Nobody else on this whole damn planet does or ever will. You're my one in five billion."

Even from our point of view, this makes complete sense—she IS the only one he trusts.

Except that it's a lie. I don't expect Mulder to think of Diana in that moment, and it wouldn't have been an issue at all if it weren't for the events of 'The End', which happen about 2-3 weeks later.

Suddenly, there is a person from his past that he trusts unconditionally to the point of stupidity, and he not only doesn't talk to Scully about any of it, he stops talking to her period. It's as if she has been a placeholder for Diana, and now that she's back, there is no use for her anymore.

Mulder works the case with Diana, Scully is dragging herself along and he does not care about her or her work until it is useful for him; he doesn't back her up when a room full of people (including Diana) belittle and mock her. He nods along, which, to Scully, is just the last puzzle piece slotting into place.

To summarize, Mulder's confession in Folie a Deux that she took seriously is revealed to be a lie—a means to an end to get her to do what he wants her to. Whether or not that's objectively true is a totally different matter because this is what Scully is confronted with.

Betrayal.

With that in mind, their argument in FtF in his hallway and Scully thinking of herself as redundant makes complete sense. We get yet another love confession, one she ALSO takes seriously, and if it weren't for that fucking bee, they'd have kissed. Maybe then, the whole mess that comes after could have been avoided, but here we are.

In "The Beginning", Scully repeats said confession back to him in an attempt to calm him and regain his trust in her/her science. Let's see what happens:

He implicitly tells her that none of what he confessed still applies, that the whole speech was, once again, nothing but a farce to get her to stay. Mulder confirms this at the end of the episode, and Scully asking him with tears in her eyes to trust her is a deeply painful contrast to his earlier declarations.

Two times, Mulder confesses his love to her.

Two times, he takes it back later and continues to use it against her.

In 'Triangle', Scully once again finds herself next to Mulder in a hospital bed and listens to him as he confesses his love for a third time. Does she think he's drugged up? Yeah, probably, but that's not the reason she cannot take him seriously.

Considering her track record with Mulder and big speeches, is it at all surprising that she no longer trusts what he tells her?

"Oh, brother," because she is forced to grapple with her many, many feelings for him and process it in a way that fits into everything else that has happened so far.

"Oh, brother," because it might be an attempt to placate her and nothing else.

"Oh, brother," because there is a chance he will twist his 'I love you' into a weapon to stab her with later. Because he says it and does not mean it.

This is not a "oh, he's drugged up" expression to me. This is Scully preparing to get hurt again.

The funniest part is that she's right. She is right. He couldn't have meant it because then he wouldn't be staring her down with apathy in his eyes and tell her not to make it "personal".

SHE is making it personal? After Mulder manipulated her by pulling on their connection like a leash to get her to do what he wants? After he confessed how much he loves and trusts her over and over just to throw it all away?

To ignore all of it in the moment it actually fucking matters?

The drug option is less angsty and kinda fun, and I do enjoy reading fics that interpret it as such, but with their history attached, it is so much more—and so much worse.

Pretending it never happened is one thing, but then actively denying it to her face and using her feelings to hurt her? Yeah, no.

Mulder fucked up and Scully has every right to reject his declarations and distance herself from him.

[pdriesta]

PROLOGUE

“i want something that i know is real”

pairing — judexblack!girl

genres — fluff, slow burn, workplace romance (she’s a pt)

warnings — sexual themes (minors dni)

word count — 1.8k (for prologue)

summary — y/n, a rising physiotherapist, has just been promoted to work with real madrid's men's team. after a difficult breakup, she's determined to keep things professional. but when jude bellingham, the club's charming new star, sets his sights on her, maintaining boundaries becomes harder than ever. can she resist the pull, or will she risk everything for a love she swore she’d never fall for again?

an — so your girl is an idiot and the day before releasing the final chapter of this series, deleted her whole blog. bare with me, i have so many drafts and notes to sort through before posting everything 😭 i am so sorry to those who have to reread this series and wait for the last chapter. also, if you were apart of the taglist please comment and i’ll redo it <3

masterlist

jude bellingham walked through the pristine halls of valdebebas, real madrid’s renowned training facility, alongside carlo ancelotti. the legendary manager had insisted on personally showing him around, a gesture that wasn’t lost on jude. every step he took reminded him that he was no longer in dortmund, no longer in the familiar yellow and black. he was in madrid now, wearing the iconic white, and the reality of it was still sinking in.

as they made their way to the physio room, ancelotti spoke in his deep, reassuring voice. “we’re all very excited to have you here, jude. you’re an important part of our future,” he said, glancing at the young midfielder with a smile. “i know it can be overwhelming at first, but you’ve got a great team around you to help you settle in.”

jude nodded, trying to absorb everything. the weight of expectation, the grandeur of the club, the new language and culture—it was a lot to take in. but this was what he’d always dreamed of, and he was determined to prove himself worthy.

they turned a corner and entered a spacious room filled with sleek equipment, treatment tables, and the smell of antiseptic. the physio room—where he’d likely spend more time than he wanted over the years, keeping his body in top condition.

“this is where the magic happens,” ancelotti said with a smile. “our medical team is top-notch, and they’ll make sure you’re in the best possible shape. we take our players’ health very seriously.”

jude’s eyes scanned the room, taking in the details. his gaze landed on a young woman standing near one of the treatment tables, adjusting some equipment. she was wearing the real madrid training kit, her warm brown skin contrasting beautifully with the white and navy of the uniform. her braided hair fell just past her shoulders, each braid meticulously done, and her presence was immediately striking.

he felt his breath catch. who is she?

“and this,” ancelotti continued, drawing jude’s attention back, “is y/n. she’s one of our junior physiotherapists. i have to say, she’s quite exceptional. she started as an intern with the women’s team and did such a remarkable job that we brought her over to the men’s team.”

jude blinked, momentarily taken aback. she’s the physio? she looked around his age—young, maybe too young to be in such a prominent role. but if ancelotti was praising her, she must be something special.

ancelotti must have noticed jude’s surprise because he chuckled softly. “i know, she looks young, doesn’t she? that’s because she is. she’s your age, actually. but don’t let that fool you—she’s brilliant at what she does. the women’s team didn’t want to let her go.”

jude couldn’t help but feel a flicker of admiration mixed with something else, something deeper. y/n was his age and already making waves at one of the biggest clubs in the world. it was impressive, to say the least, but more than that, there was something about her that he couldn’t shake.

as jude approached, y/n looked up from her work, meeting his gaze with a warm, confident smile. her eyes were kind, but there was a spark in them that drew him in. god, she’s beautiful.

“y/n,” ancelotti said, his voice filled with a kind of paternal pride, “this is jude bellingham, our new signing. i’m sure you’ve heard a lot about him.”

y/n extended her hand, her smile widening. “of course. it’s great to finally meet you, jude. welcome to madrid.”

“thanks,” jude replied, shaking her hand. her grip was firm, her skin warm, and for a moment, he was caught off guard by the connection he felt. she’s my age, he thought again, still trying to reconcile that with her professionalism. “nice to meet you too.”

“y/n will be working closely with you to make sure you stay in peak condition,” ancelotti continued. “she’s been with the women’s team, but now she’s part of our setup here. and believe me, she knows what she’s doing.”

y/n’s heart swelled a little at the praise, but she kept her expression neutral. keep it professional, she reminded herself. jude was a world-class athlete, and while she was flattered by ancelotti’s words, she knew she had to prove herself every day. “i’m still learning, but i’m excited to be here and work with you,” she said, her voice steady.

jude nodded, still intrigued. “i can see why they wanted you on the team.”

he’s sharp, y/n thought, catching the genuine interest in his eyes. there was something about him that put her at ease, despite the high stakes of her new role. “thank you. it’s been a lot of hard work, but i’m ready for the challenge.”

as they began the tour, y/n walked beside jude, pointing out various areas of the facility. ancelotti excused himself after a few minutes, leaving the two of them to continue alone. jude noticed the way y/n moved—confidently, yet with a certain grace. it was clear she knew this place inside and out, even if she was still getting used to the men’s side of things.

“so,” jude began, glancing over at her as they walked down a corridor lined with photos of real madrid legends, “how does someone our age end up as a physio for one of the biggest clubs in the world? that’s pretty impressive.”

y/n felt a small blush creeping up her neck but managed to keep her cool. he’s trying to get to know me, she realized, her heart beating a little faster. “well, i’ve always been interested in sports medicine,” she explained. “i started studying physiotherapy in university, and i got an internship with the women’s team here at madrid. it was just supposed to be temporary, but i guess they liked what i was doing.”

jude smiled, clearly impressed. “sounds like you’re a bit of a prodigy.”

y/n laughed softly, shaking her head. “i wouldn’t go that far. i just worked hard and tried to learn as much as i could. the women’s team was incredible to work with, and i learned a lot from them. but when they offered me a spot with the men’s team, i knew it was an opportunity i couldn’t pass up.”

jude nodded, understanding the drive behind her words. “that’s really cool. i’m just getting started here myself, but it’s nice to know there’s someone else who’s new to this side of things.”

“yeah,” y/n agreed, feeling a sense of camaraderie. “i guess we’re both finding our way.”

they walked in comfortable silence for a moment, and jude found himself stealing glances at y/n. she was beautiful, no doubt about it, but there was something else—something in the way she carried herself that made him want to know more.

“so, you’re from spain?” jude asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“yeah, mostly,” y/n replied. “i was raised here, but my family’s originally from west africa—ghana, specifically. we moved here when i was a kid.”

“ghana, huh? that’s cool,” jude said, genuinely interested. “do you ever get back to visit?”

“not as often as i’d like,” y/n admitted, a hint of longing in her voice. “but we try to go back whenever we can. it’s important to stay connected to where you come from.”

“i totally get that,” jude said, feeling a connection growing between them. “i’ve always thought it’s important to stay grounded, to remember where you started.”

y/n nodded, appreciating the sentiment. he’s more thoughtful than i expected, she mused. “it’s definitely something i try to keep in mind, especially working in a place like this. it’s easy to get caught up in the glamour of it all, but i try to stay focused on why i’m here.”

as they continued the tour, jude couldn’t help but feel increasingly drawn to y/n. there was an ease between them, a natural flow to the conversation that made him forget, if only for a moment, the pressures of his new life in madrid.

“you know,” jude said, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as they reached the gym, “if you’re going to be the one keeping me in shape, i might need to get on your good side early.”

y/n raised an eyebrow, catching the flirty tone in his voice. “is that so? well, i hope you’re good at following instructions, because i’m pretty strict about my routines.”

jude chuckled, feeling a thrill at the banter. “i’ll do my best. but you know, maybe you could give me some pointers on how to stay on your good side?”

y/n laughed, shaking her head but unable to hide her amusement. he’s charming, she thought, realizing she was enjoying their interaction more than she expected. “just work hard, jude. that’s the best way to impress me.”

as they finished the tour and walked back toward the entrance, jude felt a sense of anticipation. there was no denying that y/n had made an impression on him, and he was eager to see where their paths would lead. for now, he kept things professional—aside from the occasional flirty remark—but as they exchanged a final smile, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning.

“good luck with the season, jude,” y/n said as they reached the door. “i’m looking forward to working with you.”

jude turned back, a playful smirk on his lips. “thanks, y/n. trust me, the pleasure’s all mine. something tells me this season just got a lot more interesting.”

y/n felt her cheeks warm at his words, a sudden shyness creeping in. he probably says this to all the girls, she thought, trying to brush it off. but the way he looked at her—like she was the only one in the room—made her pulse quicken.

“just don’t let me catch you falling behind,” she managed to reply, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest. “i’ll be watching.”

jude chuckled, the sound low and smooth. “i wouldn’t dream of it. besides, with you around, i don’t think i’ll have any trouble staying motivated.”

as he walked away, jude couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and unease. he was undeniably drawn to y/n, but he also knew they’d be working closely together all season. it could get complicated, and he wasn’t sure where the line was between professionalism and…whatever this was. but one thing was clear—he wanted to see where it might go, even if it meant walking a fine line.

as he headed toward his car, he ran a hand through his hair, still thinking about her. this could be trouble, he mused, a small smile playing on his lips. but deep down, he knew he didn’t really mind. after all, some trouble was worth getting into.

next

© PDRIESTA 2024

[daisyblog]

I Think I'm In Love

Our Story Masterlist Summary: Fans meet YN at LOT Wembley N4.

Based on this request. Also a big thank you to @onlyangle1 for helping me.

Molly and Ava, two best friends who shared their love and obsession for Harry Styles. The pair had waited for what felt like years for this day. The day they finally got to use their Harry Styles Love On Tour tickets.

They had tickets for the front area of the standing pitch. Despite not being at the barricade and having an up close view of the man himself, they were content in being at the concert and having a large space around them, to be able to dance and jump around in later on.

The two girls had just sat down on the ground, as Wet Leg had left the stage. “What do you think he’ll wear?”.

Ava thought as she played with the boa around her neck. “If we see hitties, I’m gonna faint.”.

“Oh please, that would literally make my night if he does!”. Molly got herself excited at the thought.

The two friends, took some photos together, wanting to remember this night and of course to post on their social media’s to let everyone they knew that they had seen Harry Styles.

The sound of the stadium singing Angels by Robbie Williams filled their ears, but what caught their eyes was YN, stood to the side of them, recording as she sadly smiled.

“Fuck, is that YN?” Ava nudged her friend.

“It is, I think I’m going to have a panic attack!” Molly spoke as she repeated to herself how much she needed to remain calm.

“She looks sad.” Ava observed. “Do you think we should ask her if she’s alright?”.

Molly managed to calm her nerves and get the attention of YN, who smiled at the sound of the girls calling her name.

“Hi!” YN gave the girls a genuine smile as she walked over to where they were now stood.

Ava took the lead, not trusting Molly to hold it together. “We’re sorry to bother you, we just wanted to check you were alright?”.

“You looked a little sad.” Molly added.

YN placed her phone in her pocket. “Yeah I’m alright.” YN hesitated. “That song reminds me of me Mum and sister.”.

“Awww.” Molly felt herself get emotional. “C’mere, have a hug.”. She wrapped her arms around YN, who gladly took it.

“Thank you!” YN rubbed a stray tear away from her cheek.

Ava couldn’t help but notice the band that now laid on YN’s finger. Wanting to change the subject as she could see YN wiping away her tear. “Congratulations on your engagement!”.

“Oh my…yeah…congratulations…I literally fucking screamed when I saw your post last night!” Molly spoke, excitement evident in her voice.

YN laughed at the girls outburst. “Aww thank you!” Blush creeping up onto her check. “It still hasn’t sunk in.”.

"It's such a beautiful ring." Ava complimented, the gold band that sat upon YN's finger.

"The boy did good!' Ava nudged Molly for her comment, but YN let out a loud chuckle, finding the comment funny.

YN nodded in agreement. "He did...I'm very lucky.".

The sound of Bohemian Rhapsody beginning, got the crowd excited knowing that Harry would be on stage soon. Ava and Molly joined in with the singing stadium.

Mama, life had just begun But now I've gone and thrown it all away Mama, ooh, didn't mean to make you cry If I'm not back again this time tomorrow Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters

The two friends, expected YN to have disappeared now that Harry was due to come on stage any moment. But they were pleasantly surprised to see YN still stood to the side of them but this time with Brad by her side.

As the intro video played, Ava and Molly were on edge waiting for the first glance of Harry. As Daydreaming began, and Harry appeared wearing his signature overalls but for the last night at Wembley decided to be shirtless, showing off his butterfly tattoo. Ava and Molly held onto each other as they jumped up and down at the sight of Harry and his lack of t-shirt.

But what set the two girls and the other fans around them into laughter was when YN could be heard shouting. "THE HITTIES ARE OUT! WOOOOO!".

Livin' in a daydream She said, "Love me like you paid me" You know I'll be gone for so long So give me all of your love, give me something to dream about

Ooh-ooh

Stay until the morning 'Cause, baby, loving you's the real thing It just feels right When you give me all of your love, give me something to dream about So give me all of your love, give me something to dream about

Ava and Molly were jumping around, just like the other fans in the stadium. Dancing, singing and having a blast..completely in awe of the man on the stage. YN and Brad were still near by also enjoying themselves, singing and dancing along.

The sound of Golden began and Harry was instructed the fans to get low. "Are you ready to have some fun with us tonight, Wembley?".

Molly turned to Ava, completely forgetting who was standing behind them. "I think I'm in love!". The girl shouted, as she was still in denial that they were watching Harry Styles perform.

Bringing the girls back into reality was YN's accent from behind them. "He has that affect on you!". Most girlfriends, in YN's case fiancée, wouldn't have liked that comment being said. But YN understood, she really did because Harry did have that affect on others. He was infectious!

As Adore You came to an end, Harry made his way down the platform to wave to the fans who stood towards the back of the stadium. Ava, Molly and the fans near by were quick to cheer and wave to the man himself.

After Harry's little speech thanking the opening acts and explaining how he had burnt his tongue on some soup, he sang Keep Driving. It was no secret that fans loved singing along to a particular part so Molly and Ava were preparing themselves to belt out the famous line.

Passports in footwells Kiss her and don't tells Wine glass, puff pass, tea with cyborgs Riot America, science and edibles Life hacks going viral in the bathroom

But making Brad, the girls and fans around them explode with laughter was YN's version as she sang behind them. "Cocaine, side boob, choke ME with a sea view!".

Toothache, bad move Just act normal Moka pot Monday, it's all good Hey, you Should we just keep driving?

One Direction fans loved Stockholm Syndrome so it was no surprise the stadium went crazy as they showed their love for the song written and performed by their favourite band. YN also joining in with the fans around her.

The sound of Sweet Creature beginning to play, caused the stadium to become a calm atmosphere, almost like everyone was enjoying the moment as Harry hadn’t sung it live for a few years. YN could see the two friends, holding onto each other whilst listening to Harry sing, wanting to capture the moment she snapped a quick photo from behind the two girls and took a short video as they had their arms wrapped around eachothers shoulders. Hoping she could try and send it to them later.

Still standing at the front of the stage, Harry peered out at the crowd looking from one side to the other. “Uh speaking of Sweet Creature…I wanna say before we go any further a massive massive thank you to you and the people of London for all the support you have given me over the last thirteen or so years of my life. This... city has blessed me with a home, and certainly the most important people in my life who have supported me over the years and I would not be here without them, thank you so much, and to all who have made it tonight. The first time I ever came to London was thirteen years ago, it was just across the street, for the boot-camp stages of X-Factor I’d never been here before, it was quite scary coming to London; but making that journey meant I got to meet my special person…the better half of me and Wembley will always be our special place for us so I’d like to play a song for her tonight, this is for you YN…this is Love Of My Life”.

During Satellite a large group of fans created a circle and YN couldn’t help but join in. They waited for Harry to sing “Spinning out, waiting for ya to pull me in” before they all ran into the circle and then dance around in crowd.

YN loved the TPWK dance that the fans had created and she spent hours learning the steps when it first went viral. So when Harry began to sing the lyrics, she couldn’t help but fill with excitement of joining the fans around her. “Maybe we can…find a place to feel good…and we can treat people with kindness…find a place to feel good”.

Whenever Harry surprised the fans by singing Medicine, her heart filled with joy over the fans screaming with happiness as the music to the saucy song began. She would admit though that Harry singing the unrealised song and moving his hips in certain ways made her feel a certain way too, one that would have to wait for the end of the show and they were alone in their hotel room. “You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it…we're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh…la-la-da-da, da”.

Knowing the set list by heart now, YN knew it was her queue to leave when Harry finished singing As It Was. Wanting to thank the two girls for being so kind and friendly, she quickly gave them a cuddle and promised to follow them back on instagram later on.

Molly and Ava watched as YN left the pit and quickly made her way backstage to meet the main man himself. “I can’t believe that just happened”.

Ava felt like she was in a dream and she was going to be woken up to reality any minute. “Pinch me…but did we just spend the entire concert with YN Tomlinson?!”.

“She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes”.

---

molly_x

liked by avaflorence, yntomlinson on and 463 others

molly_x Ava and I’s reaction after watching Harry Styles with YN!!✨❤️🫶🏼 🪩 View all 46 comments tagged: avaflorence harrystyles yntomlinson

avaflorence Amazing night✌🏼I want to do it again! YN made our night so much better x ⌞molly_x She’s such a beautiful soul🩷

friend2 So lucky 😩

yntomlinson Thank you girlies for letting me join you at the show🫶🏼I had the best night and have told Harry about two of his biggest fans!❤️ ⌞harryfan6 your so lucky yn commented and liked your post!! ⌞molly_x Sorry I just needed to calm myself because I can’t believe you’ve actually commented and liked my photo (fangirl moment 😱). Thank you for being so lovely to us…and taking that photo and video of us, we are so grateful!❤️❤️❤️

harryfan9 Is YN starting a new trend of being in the pit with the fans????

harryfan7 Things like this never happen at my shows😢😢😢

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994 @macy-tpwk

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning, fem reader

chapter warnings/tags: use of "angel", oral (m receiving/choso receiving), drinking alcohol, mild masturbation, swearing, mentions of vomiting, swallowing cum, choso and reader are falling hard

A/N: okay so this is loosely edited sorry not sorry bc I wanted to get it posted and I'm obsessed with my own story (੭꒦ິ ^꒦ິ)੭ ; I'll edit it little by little bc I always re-read my shit over and over and go "ah shit that's a typo", but for now, ENJOY

index part twelve | part fourteen

part thirteen word count : 3,026

summer was slowly coming to an end, and reality set in. you couldn’t live in Yuji’s house forever. after all, your boyfriend slept down the hall from your one-night stand. every time you wandered upstairs into Choso’s room, you were reminded of that harsh truth when you glanced at Sukuna’s door. 

you had been apartment hunting for a week or so now, deciding not to tell anyone else until you had something firmly in place. honestly, you weren’t sure how Choso would react, or even Yuji for that matter. could you bear to possibly change things?

for tonight, it didn’t matter. you fell in step behind Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara as your ragtag group headed out for drinks. even Choso met your stride with his hand in yours, a soft, comfortable smile resting on his lips.

“so tell me, are you planning on getting wasted tonight?” Choso asked you as he nudged your shoulder with his. 

“it’s not a celebration if I remember it.” you hummed in response, chuckling lightly. it wouldn’t be the last time you’d go out with your friends, but something about tonight felt… different. 

you’d actually managed to confirm an apartment for the next year, a quaint studio that you could call your own. it was not as nice or spacious as Yuji’s house, but it was yours. part of you hoped that with a little bit of liquid courage, you could share the news with your friends. 

the first bar, everyone took a shot each. and then of course Nobara almost force-fed you three more (not that you really fought her). when you’d eventually arrived at a third bar, it was safe to say you were quite drunk. 

you barely had enough rhythm to sway to the music, Choso’s hands on your hips guiding you as you danced against him in the crowd. “having fun, angel?” Choso whispered against the shell of your ear, sending chills down your spine.

you nodded lazily as you twirled your hands up in the air, relishing the feeling of dancing with him. Nobara and Yuji each had a hold of one of Megumi’s hands, forcing the more stoic of the three to dance in a messy circle with them. you couldn’t help but laugh when you watched as Nobara tried to force their faces together to kiss.

“I can’t believe summer is almost over.” you shouted to Choso over the music. “I don’t want to be a miserable, exhausted student again.”

“I know, but I’ll be there to help you through it.” Choso replied, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in an embrace. “I promise I’ll keep my music down to a minimum when you study.”

ah yes. that… when would you tell him? he’d understand, surely.

“you know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately.” Choso said, holding onto your hips and turning you to face him. his cheeks were tinged pink, either from the small amount of alcohol he’d consumed or embarrassment. “I know it feels like this summer has flown by, and we might’ve just scratched the surface of our… relationship; but I’m really falling for you. maybe even dove into a black hole kind of falling.”

you heart pounded in your chest as you watched him struggle to get the words out, averting his gaze as he confessed. maybe you were crazy, even slightly stupid, for everything that has happened since you moved into the house. but it had been an experience; even the worst parts. and it had all led you here, to be dancing with Choso, happy as can be without a worry in the world.

“Choso…” your lips formed his name, the music causing it to fall on deaf ears until your hand came up to rest on his cheek. whether he could truly hear you or not, you had to say it. “I’m falling for you too. head over heels, I think.”

he must’ve heard some part of it, because Choso broke out into a beaming smile that almost reached his ears. not bothering with talking over the music, he cupped your face in his hands and pulled you in, crashing his lips onto yours. god, every kiss he ever gave you sent electricity coursing through your bloodstream. it was a kind of rush that you couldn’t find in the bottom of a shot glass, overtaking every part of you.

Choso pulled back all too quickly, still wearing a grin, before leaning down to brush his lips against your ear. “wanna ditch the others and head to bed?” he teased, and you shuddered at his breath fanning over your skin.

you playfully smacked his chest but you couldn’t help but smile too. “later, loverboy. we can’t just ditch them every time you find yourself horny.” you told him. 

it had happened all too often since your first time. you could be in the living room watching a movie with Yuji when Choso would all but set you on fire with his lustful stares, causing the two of you to disappear halfway through – Yuji really didn’t appreciate it, and you’d gotten an earful of complaints. 

even one time, when the two of you had been tasked with doing the grocery shopping, you’d forgotten multiple items on the list because Choso practically dragged you out of there after you’d barely brushed against his crotch with your ass. again, lots of complaining from Yuji, who’s protein bars were one of the forgotten items. 

in the midst of your dancing, Yuji came over to you. you immediately noticed he wasn’t grinning as widely as before. “um… I just wanted to give you a heads up that Sukuna’s almost here.” he blurted out, his face turning a deep shade of red immediately.

your footsteps faltered for a second, and your intoxicated haze began to lift slightly. but no, you had to remind yourself of where you were, and who you were with. sure, Sukuna would probably be a bit crass and annoying, but you were tucked away in Choso’s arms at the moment, trying to have fun. 

“I think this calls for another drink.” was the only thing you said, leaving Choso’s embrace before grabbing Nobara’s arm and dragging her to the bar with you. without question, she watched as you ordered four shots, two for each of you, before downing the liquor at the same time as you. 

there, you regained some of your liquid courage. so you felt only mildly less bothered when you watched Sukuna approach the boys from your spot at the bar. “what’s he doing here?” Nobara ground out, rolling her eyes as she took her last shot.

“I’m assuming Yuji invited him.” you answered, shaking your head. “it’s not like we can fault him, he’s part of his family. although I do wish Sukuna would take the hint and butt out.”

“I heard from Yuji that he’s been going to therapy.” Nobara’s words caused you to turn to face her in shock. she caught your expression and shrugged. “evidently, he broke down to Yuji a few weeks back, and has been going ever since. something about becoming a better version of himself?”

either you were really, really drunk and this was a fever dream, or Sukuna was actually trying to turn a corner. you tried to shake off the achy feeling in your chest, reminding yourself of how he’d made you feel. no amount of therapy and growth could take that away. and it didn’t matter anymore, you were head over heels for Choso, and he treated you like you should be treated. 

you stuck with Nobara at the bar a little while longer, until Choso eventually came looking for you. unfortunately for you, Sukuna was hot on his tail. even more unfortunate – this was the moment that Nobara decided to lean over and throw up on the floor. 

“oh god, fuck.” you hissed and you rushed to hold back her hair, praying the bartender didn’t yell at the two of you. Choso also ran over, helping to hold Nobara up by the arm as she retched another final time. “it’s not too much of a mess, right? we can just push the barstool on top to cover it?”

“don’t think that’s gonna work, bartender’s already coming over here.” Sukuna warned as he came to survey the situation. 

Nobara looked up at you with weepy eyes, still trying to manage a smile. “’ ‘sorry – hic – guess that last shot got me. remind me next time not to do – hic – vodka.” 

“I’ll take her home, but I have to move fast before they kick us out on our asses.” you told Choso as you pushed Nobara’s hair from her face. nothing like being forced to sober up to take care of a friend, always works faster than an ice-cold shower.

“I’ll help you.” your face shot up, realizing that Choso and Sukuna offered in unison. they both shared a look – Choso’s more annoyed, Sukuna’s more aloof. you were forced to look between the two of them, ultimately going with the obvious choice.

“Sukuna…” you started, watching as he practically perked up at his name, “… make sure Megumi and Yuji are okay and get them back safely whenever. Choso, help me get her standing upright and walk her home.” 

you really expected some argument out of Sukuna, considering it was what he enjoyed doing, but he only nodded in agreement. you couldn’t help but feel shocked as he promptly walked away to go back to the other guys, and you shared a look with Choso.

“that was weird, right?” you asked him, but Choso only shrugged as he threw his arm around Nobara’s waist to stand her up. “alright, let’s get out of here. hopefully, the cool air will help.”

as the three of you stumbled out the door, you heard the faint yelling of other people discovering the vomit Nobara had left behind. oh well, your hands were full – literally, Nobara was falling into you at this point. 

-

once you’d safely tucked Nobara away, sacrificing your bed for her, you returned to the kitchen to fill up a cup of water for yourself. Choso sat at the bar, gulping down his own in comfortable silence. 

“well, who’s surprised I ended the night more sober than we thought?” you joked as you leaned on the counter in front of him. 

“I certainly anticipated having to carry you home, not her.” Choso answered with a smirk. 

“at least now I can enjoy the rest of our night together without it being a haze.” you meandered around the counter to lean against him, placing a soft kiss to his cheek. his skin blushed in response, and his smirk faltered slightly. “and, I’m not passed out asleep right now, so we can do whatever we want.”

“whatever we want?” Choso’s eyebrow raised, turning to return a kiss onto your neck. 

“why don’t we go upstairs and you can show me how much you’re falling for me?”

that was all it took for Choso to literally throw you over his shoulder as you let out a laugh, marching up the stairs to his room with you in his arms. you’d forgotten all about the news you’d meant to share the minute he tossed you onto his bed, all of your thoughts emptying out entirely. 

he’d stripped faster than you’d ever seen before, his bare torso now exposed to your wandering, greedy hands. how did you get so lucky to have such a hot boyfriend? to show your appreciation, you decided to lay your stomach down on the bed and take his cock into your hands.

Choso hissed as you began to stroke his already hard dick, kitten licking at his tip to force a low groan out of him. “fuck, angel. you’ve never… we’ve never…” Choso gasped, hands twitching at his sides like he was unsure of what to do with them. meanwhile, both your hands together had barely covered him, leaving you breathless with the reality of how big he was in your grasp.

“I know baby, but I wanna make you feel good.” you hummed with a wicked smirk on your lips before your tongue darting out again to lap at the pre-cum slowly beading at the tip. Choso shuddered at the feeling, going utterly insane at the sight of you. 

you continued to thoroughly wet his dick with your saliva, placing kisses and licking stripes up the length of him. finally, you worked up the courage to try and take him into your mouth. Choso watched with half-lidded eyes as you parted your lips and eased his tip past them, using your tongue to caress circles around it. his head dipped back as he barked out a moan, his hand moving on its own to rest gently on the back of your hair. 

“holy shit” Choso breathed, petting your head as you slowly lowered your mouth further, intending to take him to the base if you could. you fought with your gag reflex, breathing through your nose, until finally, you had a hand wrapped around what doesn’t fit. 

you swallow thickly, holding him there with his tip nudging the back of your throat, trying to adjust to his size. you were a little disappointed at your lack of deep throat skills, but you thought that if you tried to fit anymore you’d suffocate. 

“s’okay, you don’t have to take it all. feels s’good like this.” Choso whined as you looked up at him with watery eyes. “doing s’good, angel.”

with his praise, you begin to move your mouth up and down him, drool spilling out whenever you reach his tip and dribbling out. each time your head bobbed, Choso whined, one hand in your hair and the other splayed across your upper back as if to ground himself. your tongue circled his leaky tip each time you were able, the taste of his pre-cum sending white-hot pleasure down to your stomach. 

Choso almost fainted when he watched you move to place your hand between your own legs, your fingers playing with your clit as you continued pleasing him. “fuck, does this turn you on?” he asked, pleasantly surprised when you hummed around him. he’d always assumed women hated giving head, but you… he could practically see you dripping on the sheets from his spot standing at the edge of the bed. 

you increased your pace as you worked at your sensitive nub, fingers coated in your own arousal as you furiously chased your own high with each bob of your head. the sounds coming from Choso only spurred you further into the moment – especially when he whined.

you pulled off him with a wet pop! to catch your breath, still pumping his cock with your free hand. Choso’s eyes were focused on you, his cheeks red and breathing heavy as you locked eyes before drool spilled from your lips. 

he brought a hand to your face, wiping away the slobber on your chin before teasing your wet lips with his thumb. “s’pretty, angel. you’re – fuck – so good at this.” Choso head was swimming from everything stimulating him. the feeling of your hand wrapped around his wet cock, almost hearing how wet your pussy was as you played with yourself, but most of all – your pretty eyes looking up at him while you licked his tip with every tug of your hand. 

fuck, he was already dangerously close to cumming. your warm mouth felt heavenly wrapped around him, too good to even be real. “keep goin’. ‘m close – jesus – you feel s’ good.”

“wanna make you cum, Cho,” you whispered before wrapping your lips around him again, this time taking him all the way despite the protest from your gag reflex. Choso cursed as his fingers knotted in your hair and his head dipped back, the coil in his stomach severely tighter with the feeling of his tip deep down your throat. 

it only took another minute until Choso’s legs were shaking with his oncoming release, your drool dripping down to his aching balls and wetting them with each movement of your head pushing the saliva from your mouth. you could feel his cock twitching on your tongue, and looked up to see his eyebrows scrunched together and eyes squeezed shut.

“fuckin’ hell, ‘m gonna cum, angel.” Choso whined, and when he looked down to see you looking up at him, he felt his orgasm begin to rush from his head to his toes. “lemme pull out, don’t wanna make you-“

you didn’t allow him to finish his sentence, slamming your face down until your nose pressed against his torso and you were gagging on his tip. Choso let out a loud moan before he felt his orgasm rack through him, his dick shooting hot ropes of cum straight down your throat as you began to swallow it with each spurt. 

“shit holy shit, holy fucking shit.” Choso panted out as his body trembled. it wasn’t until you couldn’t feel any more cum in your mouth that you pulled off of him, a string of saliva still connecting your lips to his cock. once you’d began to catch your breath, Choso’s hand tilted your head up and he swiped his thumb across your lower lip. “you… you didn’t have t’ swallow, angel.”

you chuckled and kissed his hand, pleased with yourself that you managed to get it all down. “it didn’t taste bad, Cho. don’t worry, did it feel good?”

he looked at you as if you’d just asked the dumbest question. “of course it did.” Choso answered, his words still coming out choppy with the deep breaths he was gulping down. 

you smiled as he all but collapsed onto the bed next to you, nuzzling his head into your neck and placing loving kisses on your skin. “I just wanted to treat my boyfriend, is that so bad?” 

“let me return the favor, please.” he murmured into your neck, and you chuckled. “pleaaaaase.”

of course, you couldn’t say no to his pleas, and soon enough you found yourself screaming his name with his head nestled between your knees.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @deathlypink @sad-darksoul @elisedylandy @jinxiewritings @aldebrana @ravester @futuristiccurlyhair @san-it-is-i-guess @marie-is-in-the-dark @llovergirlll @iseeyouuu @makingtimemine @spicykimchii @shxhari @ratcoone @mollyrocks420 @willybillyletsgetsilly @distinguishedpenguinbread @ren-ni @sugar504 @runfrme I hope I got everyone, and I hope the tagging worked for all of you! thank you so much for liking this enough to be tagged, it means the world to me! xoxo that fact that 27 people have asked to be tagged for this makes me sob tears of thanks .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. IF the tagging didn't work, try turning on notifications for when I post just in case! ♡ if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[callsign-rogueone]

glad it was you

Bodhi Durran x reader (darling) words: 2.2k 🏷: no book spoilers, set pre-FW (year of the revolution). mentions of parental death (reader's and Bodhi's -- Calldyr executions), lots of crying on everyone's behalf, Bodhi is a sweetheart :( bb bo and darling are awkward lil cuties, more husband!bo coming soon maybe (I really want to continue this storyline... so much glorious fluffy angst planned for them pre-Basgiath), proofread with intense brain fog so uh. yeah

June 628 

You wake to the feeling of a warm hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently. You hum sleepily, turning to see your parents sitting on the edge of your bed.

Something must be wrong, very wrong, if they’re here right now, waking you up, but they don’t seem panicked — so this emergency, whatever it is, must not fall into the same category as the house being on fire.

You rub the sleep from your eyes, sitting up. 

“There’s something we need to tell you,” your father says softly. “Your mother and I have been involved with the revolution, helping them transport weapons and gather information, funding them through the company.”

You blink, still trying to wake yourself up, and to process the information. Your parents, involved with the revolution? You’d known that Xaden’s family was involved, and Bodhi’s, but… 

You suppose that explains how your parents met them.

There’s a sinking feeling in your chest. “Why are you telling me this now?” you ask softly, even though you already know deep down — this is a conversation that would have happened in broad daylight, if it could, yet they’d woken you up in the middle of the night, and they’re fully dressed, ready to go out… 

“We’ve been discovered. If Riorson’s scout is to be believed, then we have about an hour before Navarre will be at our doorstep.”

Your heart drops, your mind racing. “We could run — to the summer house, or leave Tyrrendor entirely, and…”

He shakes his head, taking your hand gently. “We will not spend the rest of our lives in hiding. We have given so much to this cause, this fight — we will not stop now, and we will not turn our backs on friends.”

The look in his eyes tells you that they’ve both accepted this, that they’ve seen it coming, that they are as prepared to be carted away to gods-know-where, to whatever cruel fate that Navarre will give them, as they can be.

You cling to them both tightly, realizing that this may very well be the last time you can do so.

“You’ll be okay, dearest,” your mother soothes, fixing your sleep-mussed hair — always searching for perfection, even at a time like this. “You’ll be the lady we raised you to be, and Bodhi will protect you. He’s a good man. I hope that you can learn to love him.”

It all makes sense now. They’d rushed to marry you off because they knew this was coming, and needed to secure a future for you before… this, whatever it will be. You don’t want to imagine it.

The look in your father’s eyes is enough to confirm your suspicions. “I’m so sorry, princess. We did everything we could to keep from being discovered — and that meant keeping this from you, until now.”

You finally start to cry. He hasn’t called you princess in more than ten years, when you ran to their room during a thunderstorm and begged to sleep in their bed with them, where it was safe. You certainly feel like that scared little girl right now, not the lady they want — need — you to be.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “Laurents don’t stand idle.”

Your father holds in a sob at the words, the reminder he’d given you dozens of times over your seventeen years — ranging in meaning from go socialize with the party guests to speak up for what is right. 

“Our dear girl, all grown up,” he whispers, shaking his head. “We love you so much. I’m sorry we didn’t say it often enough.”

Your mother continues stroking your hair. “We left everything to you, as you’ll be of age in a few months. Look after your brother and sister.”

Oh, gods, the twins. They’re still asleep in their rooms down the hall. Is it better to wake them, so they can say goodbye, or to let them have one last peaceful slumber, unknowing of their parents’ fates?

“We’ll tell them,” she says softly. “Not the whole truth, but… that we’ll be gone, for a while. And we might not be back.”

Your head is still spinning, but you shove down the swirling thoughts and pull back the covers. “I’ll go with you — to talk to them. I should be there.”

You throw a silk robe atop your nightgown, not bothering with slippers as you follow them down the hall for what may very well be the most difficult conversation of your life.

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

one week later

You manage to gather the twins into your arms, letting them hug your legs and hide their faces in your skirts. “Don’t look,” you say softly. “Hold on to the stones. They’ll protect you.”

You grip your own tightly, holding it in a fist that you rest on your younger brother’s back as he shakes with sobs.

You have never met the rest of these kids, only Xaden and Bodhi, but your heart breaks for all of them — there must be over a hundred here, from teenagers to infants. You pray that some of them are too young to remember this moment. 

Someone guides you back by your upper arm, turning you to face him — Bodhi. He lays a hand on your back, the other on your sister’s.  

You know what is going to happen in a few seconds, but for a moment all you can focus on is the warmth of his touch, the look in his eyes as he pulls you closer, silently tucking your head into his collar.

He hardly knows you, but he is holding you as tenderly as one would a lover, shielding you from the sight behind you and wrapping you in warmth and security.

You close your eyes just before you hear the screaming — then it stops. You nearly crumple to the ground, knowing what that silence means, but he holds you steady, keeping you upright as you tremble.

There’s a muffled sob from your left hip, distracting you from your own grief. 

They’re both still covering their eyes, as you’d directed. Thank the gods.

You settle onto the ground, not caring about the rocks that dig into your legs nor the dust that covers your skirt as you embrace your siblings, letting them cling to you and cry into your chest.

“Just keep looking at me,” you tell them, sniffing away your own tears. “We’re okay.”

There’s the sound of shifting gravel as Bodhi kneels down beside you, one hand still on your back, smoothing up and down idly. 

You don’t know how long you remain there, the four of you wrapped up in each other, crying wordlessly.

Evidently too long, as a soldier comes by to shoo you away. How much more cruel can they be, to force you to watch your parents be killed, and then chase you off like animals?

You glare at him, but know better than to say anything.

Bodhi hefts your sister into his arms, letting her cling to him and sniffle into his shirt collar.

You take your brother's hand, momentarily stunned by the sight of your arm, the spiraling black pattern that runs from your wrist past your elbow. You can see a matching one on your sister, and another peeking out from Bodhi’s sleeve.

“We’ll be okay,” you whisper down to your brother, as much of a reassurance for yourself as it is for him. “We have each other.”

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

another week later

“She’s in the sitting room,” Anna says quietly, gesturing to the left. 

Bodhi thanks her, entering.

He hasn’t been here since that party your parents had hosted, the one to celebrate your engagement — that had completely blindsided you both.

The house looks different now, dim and bare; walls that were once covered in paintings now decorated only with rectangular patches of darkened wallpaper, furniture missing, likely having been taken away for auction.

You sit not in the two great chairs your mother and father would always occupy, rather at the end of a small couch, your sister asleep with her head in your lap as you stroke her hair absentmindedly.

He supposes you’re the lady of the house now. You look the part, poised and refined even without an audience. He’s never seen you with your hair up like this before. It looks remarkably similar to your mother’s, a neat and simple updo.

He can barely spot the black swirls peeking out from the top of your gloves — the fabric extends past your elbows, a bit longer than is fashionable, but you’d likely chosen them to hide the mark you’d tried so hard to wash away. You’d scrubbed your skin until it cracked and bled, to no avail; this is magic, that can’t be undone with soap and a washcloth.

You finally notice him standing in the doorway — with nearly all of the staff gone, there is no one to announce his presence. “Bodhi,” you greet, flushed. “I’d stand, but...”

He gives you a soft smile. “It’s okay. We don’t need to be so formal anymore.”

He has a point — you are legally married, and with your parents gone…. You motion for him to sit across from you. 

“How are the twins?” he asks quietly, nodding toward your sister.

You gaze down at her — she finally looks peaceful, for the first time this week. You wonder what she’s dreaming about.

“They’re sleeping through the night now,” you answer, “but she’ll hardly let me out of her sight. I think she’s afraid I’ll be next.”

He exhales, sitting with the admission for a moment. He himself is old enough to understand the situation, but a child… he can’t imagine what it must be like for those even younger than the twins.

“How are you?” you ask gently. 

“Managing,” he answers, truthfully. He looks like he hasn’t slept well, deep creases under his eyes and exhaustion dragging his shoulders down. 

He takes a breath. “I wanted to talk to you about… us.”

You smile at him softly. “I will not hold you to the terms decided for us by our parents, if that’s what you’re asking. I know neither of us had any say in the matter.”

You can’t tell if the fleeting look on his face is disappointment or relief. You haven’t been able to label many of your own feelings lately, haven’t had the time to.

“If you want to have it annulled, I understand. But even if we don’t have a… traditional partnership, I’d like to be there for the three of you. I enjoyed what little time we had together, and I hope we can become friends.”

“I’ll leave the decision to you. But I’d like that,” you say quietly. “It would be nice to have a friend — someone who understands.”

He realizes that while you and your sister are dressed in mourning black, there are no condolence cards on the table, no flowers... It had taken a few minutes for someone to answer the door, and the woman who had looked genuinely surprised to see anyone.

There will be no callers, no cards, no flowers. You’re entirely alone. Your family’s allegiance to the revolution has ostracized you. You’ve been shunned.

“Of course,” he says warmly. “I’ll continue to write, but… maybe I could start coming by once a week? Or whenever you want, just… just to talk?” he rubs the back of his neck nervously, wondering if he’s overstepped.

“I appreciate the offer, and I’d like that very much, but we’re going to move in with my grandmother next week,” you say quietly. “In Tirvainne.”

That explains all the missing pieces, and the lack of staff — you’re slowly letting go of everything, and everyone, before you leave.

“That’s where Xaden is moving, too. So I’ll have twice the reason to come visit,” he says with a soft smile. 

You return it, but there’s still a profound sadness in your eyes as you do. “You’re a good man, Bodhi. I’m glad it was you.”

He looks a little flushed at the comment, but takes it in stride. “I have no doubt in your ability to care for them, but you shouldn’t have to do it alone. If you ever need anything, I’m only a letter away,” he says softly, standing to take his leave.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Your sister still hasn’t roused, finally sleeping soundly — you won’t disturb her, lest this be the only sleep she can get. She deserves the peace, anyway. 

So you stay in place, not having moved an inch since Bodhi’s arrival a few minutes ago, watching him leave.

You wish he would have stayed longer, but what would you have done if he had? What would you possibly have discussed, if not the events of the last week? Would talking about anything else be a dishonor to your parents? It certainly wouldn’t feel right to enjoy anything right now, but sitting with him in complete silence would be preferable to being alone with your thoughts.

You run your fingertips over the cover of the book you’d brought down as a distraction, but had been unable to pay attention to, your mind otherwise occupied.

In another life, marrying Bodhi would have been nice. You’d have a calm, comfortable existence, with charity functions and needlework and nights at the ballet, walks along the river in summer and ice-skating in the winter when it freezes over… and eventually, a house full of children to do it all with. Your parents would come to visit every month, and spoil them rotten. The two of you might have even fallen in love.

Maybe it’s selfish of you, but you’d pick that story over this one, a thousand times over.

[tsukimefuku]

the letter ꕥ higuruma hiromi

summary: reader writes a letter for an absentee. one that she will never send.

tags: f!reader, implied past relationship, higuruma x reader, angst, break up, longing and general heartbreak.

wc: 1k

notes etc.: this is actually my original style of writing in my native language before i began writing in 2nd(?) + 3rd person pov on ao3 and tumblr this year. it’s different from what I’ve written so far, but I hope you guys enjoy it. the style translation was hard, holy shirt. song → shake it out (florence + the machine).

ꕥ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

i like to keep my issues drawn ꕥ it’s always darkest before the dawn

I was debating if I should start this with “hey, Hiromi”, “hi, Higuruma”, “dear” something, and I still haven’t arrived at an answer. The first sounds too casual for what we have become — and what are we now if not strangers? The second, however, is just too impersonal, and I don’t need such a stinging reminder of how much I’m not entitled to your first name anymore. At last, “dear” to start a letter is just tacky.

Alas, I digress.

I don’t quite know what possessed me to pick up a pen and a piece of paper (analogical, just like you’ve noted me to be) to blurt out the swirling hurts in my mind, but I guess I still had a lot to say, even if you weren’t here long enough to hear it.

Here goes nothing.

You might be wondering how I’m doing (at least I hope so), so I thought I’d let you know.

Tonight, more specifically, I’ve been for an insurmountable stretch of time — were it hours? Minutes? Days? Out of my priorities, tracking time has not been one of them — staring at the empty vacuum making its presence known by my side. It seems to mock my stare, that longs, against all odds, for a miracle — for you to simply materialize right there, out of thin air.

Seriously, you should see the mess you’ve made when you left.

You left an emptiness of shoes, black suits, wet towels on the bed, cup marks on the furniture, scratches of morning beard, warm legs under the covers — an emptiness of body that has been giving me nightmares. You came in, flipped everything upside down, blew up my walls and made so that every edge, vertex, color and smell of this heart and bones surrounding our leftover life would incessantly scream for you.

It’s like my misery extended beyond myself and resoundingly expanded against the walls of this house.

But… even though I wish you were here with every tiny part of myself, I couldn’t ask for you to stay. I know it wouldn’t be fair. You’d never ask me to betray myself, and the least I could do was to love you in the same earnest way. 

You wouldn’t be the man I loved if you didn’t go. I wouldn’t be the person you loved if I asked you not to (I apologize for the past tense, it’s one of those truthless comforts I’ve decided to give myself for the time being).

You still linger here, though. I still keep your gaze close to my chest, your face pressed against my skin, your warm voice caressing the edge of my ear and your hair stroking through my fingers, even if it’s just my soul pretending for a minute.

A long minute.

You know, it has been hell without you here. The couch cushions wrap around me like your arms, the bed always bounces by the time you used to get up, and the kitchen smells like your favorite take-out meals (because God knows we’d set fire to this building if we so much as dared turning that stove top on). The window reflects two back at me when only one is looking at it, and my hiking boots are dearly missing those black oxford shoes. My coat hanging on the edge of the closet is also dearly missing your crumpled black ties sprinkled around the room (of course you took weeks to properly wash and organize them — when you ever did).

Oh, and the bed.

The bed is just not the same without that stupid, ridiculous blotch of water your towel would always leave on it.

A huge chunk of our house is missing.

I know I can’t let my selfishness kidnap you from what you need to do — and I do know you need it. But damn, sometimes it’s hard to fight the urge of hopping on the first train your way, grabbing you by your wrist and asking you to become once again part of my wallpaper, my duvet, my pillows. Just promise me you’ll make all of this pain worthwhile, even if you ran away with ten thirds of me.

Ever since you left, though, I learned a few tricks to mask your ever so present absence. I can pull the pillows towards the middle of the bed, eat in the living room and read in the kitchen, being sure to slowly put all my pieces back in place. 

It’s harder to notice an empty chair across the table when you willingly choose to sit on the ground.

However, I didn’t want to do that. Not today. Call it insanity, clarity, or just meet me in my madness like you always so kindly did.

Today, I wanted to let you invade me, come into my house with my full permission and go on turning everything upside down once more. That way, I can almost feel you there. To me, at least for now, that’s good enough (or as good as I know it’s gonna get).

Your muted way of sharing our space could be so, so silent. That quietude brought me the deepest of peaces.

Unfortunately, I never anticipated the silence from your absence would be so loud, and not peaceful at all. It has been hammering at my breathless heart for days. 

I miss you.

I love you, too.

***

With a sigh, you put the pen down and stared at the paper sheet for a minute, your own calligraphy so foreign with a pain you hadn’t let out properly ever since Hiromi… actually, Higuruma stepped out that morning.

Considering your options, you resigned, and pulled the letter in a crinkled messy ball, tossing it in the garbage can.

No need to talk to a voluntary absentee. No need to bother him, either.

You got yourself back up and picked up two pairs of keys, the blue buttoned shirt and made your way out of the apartment, not failing to hear the rumbling echo the door made when it slammed closed.

An echo that only happens in truly empty places.

[lyricswrittenbythesecretdreamer]

Haunted

“You remind me of a man I used to know.”  

I was watching the embers in the fire die, and the thought just came, out loud. The Ghoul chewed an unknown meat off the stick he’d skewered it on, not looking up to dignify my statement with even so much as a grunt. Maybe not then, I thought sadly. Maybe all the men like Cooper had died when the bombs dropped. I certainly hadn’t met a man like him since we’d said goodbye to each other at that party. Still, I continued.  

“He was a lot friendlier than you – though I suppose actors are predisposed to high levels of charisma.” I smiled to myself from behind the handkerchief covering my face, thinking of how simple the past now seemed in comparison to the present.  

“Actor?” It was first word I’d heard him speak since he told me to put out the fire that had cooked our dinner and it brought me from my daydream of my old life.  

“Yeah, actor. One of the good ones, most of the time anyway.” I chuckled to myself, remembering the tantrums he used to have on set if something wasn’t entirely accurate.  

“How would you have known an actor?”  

“Well, if you must know, I was-”   

I was cut off by a knife flying past my face and narrowly missing my eye, and then there was a body on top of mine, all flailing limbs and trying to stab me, grabbing a hold of my neck and head to hold me down. I grabbed the pocket knife hidden in my coat and wounded my attacker, before rolling the both of us over and pushing his face into the dying ashes. Their screams echoed out against the darkness of the wasteland, and I heard several gunshots. I took my pistol from my belt and shot whoever had tried to jump me in the back of his skull, letting him fall limply beside me.  

I look up through the dying light to see the Ghoul surveying our surroundings, before looking down at me and I realised with horror I didn’t have the handkerchief covering my face anymore.  

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Rosie Ryder,” he let out an audible laugh, “What are you doin’ out in the Wasteland?”  

My face went bright red, and I huffed.  

“Even after the apocalypse, people still just know me as the girl who played the hooker that got her titties out for Cooper Howard,” I rolled my eyes and sighed, “I’ve done other movies, you know.”  

“Yeah, you were great in Under the Covers,” he chuckled again, “although for you that film must have mostly been about shooting all that kissin’ you did to the poor bloke. I bet his lips were chapped at the end of every day!”  

“You a fan of Cooper Howard?” I asked, looking him up and down, “this get-up of yours seems pretty inspired by his work.”  

“You could say that, Little Miss Ryder.”  

I laughed bitterly and gestured down at the three bodies around us.  

“We should probably find somewhere else to sleep tonight, in case anyone heard the gunshots.”  

I checked the pockets of the bodies but couldn’t find anything other than a couple of caps and a gun with some ammo still left in it.  

“No chems?” he asked, and I shook my head.  

“No chems.”  

*** 

As we continued in our direction, the Ghoul became more talkative.  

“So, if you were Little Miss Rosie Ryder, you must be at least two hundred and something years old,” he began, “So how are you here right now?” 

I shrugged.  

“It’s a long, long story. We don’t got that much time, Ghoulie.”  

Eventually we came across a shabby-looking shack that looked just about safe enough for the night and might potentially keep us safe from any radstorm that might decide to descend onto us. And maybe from any raiders, too.  

The Ghoul went in first, checking the inside whilst I set a bear trap up in front of the door, before following him inside. It seemed as if someone might have been living here for a bit – there was a sofa and a little table, as well as a small counter with what looked like to be a broken-down hob. No signs of life anymore, though. Everything had a thick layer of dust coating it, and any essentials seem to have been hastily removed when the last occupier had left. 

“The walls seem pretty sturdy and the roof’s secure,” he said, “did you put a bear trap outside the door?”  

“Yeah, don’t wanna take the risk we did earlier.” I sighed. “Still, can’t help but think we’re still sitting ducks if someone breaks in. We’re not exactly in the safest area – I know at least two Raider groups who have bases nearby.” 

“They’ll break in and come face to face with my pistol aimed at their skulls, sweetheart.”  

“Oh, I’m ‘sweetheart’ now, am I? Now that you know what I look like under all these clothes?”  

The Ghoul stepped closer to me, the shadow of his hat towering over me.  

“Maybe I jus’ appreciate those actin’ skills of yours,” he murmured, “on top of that fine figure.” He stepped back from me and sat down on the sofa, slouching.  

“I’ll take first watch, Little Miss Rosie. I’ll wake you in a few hours and when the light comes, we’ll continue, and you can tell me that long, long story of yours.”  

*** 

Susie Wellington was coiffuring my hair for my first scene, as I sat tugging on my cotton skirt trying to psyche myself up for the scene ahead. We’d rehearsed it a bunch of times in table reads but this was the real thing – closed set and all.  

“Susie, I think the leading lady’s hair’s done up enough for now,” came a voice from the corner, “and you should be making your way back to the dressing rooms. I’m sure Little Miss Rosie Ryder here doesn’t want another cast member staring at her tits.”  

I looked up in relief as Cooper appeared beside us, cigarette in hand. Susie didn’t look to happy about having to leave her creation as it was, but only pursed her lips and bid me goodbye.  

“You excited for your first scene, Little Miss Rosie?” he asked, and I felt a strange sense of deja vu come over me at his words. I ignored it and put a shaky smile on my face.  

“I’m excited to get the nudity outta the way, that’s all I’m gonna say!” I giggled a bit, and he laughed alongside me.  

“Well, there’ll be a barrier in place of everythin’ and that dress of yours ain’t comin’ off completely. Gotta keep them perverts on their toes.” He winked at me, and I tried to keep the smile on my face, but under it all, I felt as if this was very dangerous.  

As he kissed me softly in front of the cameras and rolled his eyes playfully as the director asked him to push my dress up to show more of my skin, I felt something lurking in the shadows. Once this was shot, there was no going back and for some reason, I felt completely doomed.  

*** 

I woke up with a start, flinging my body forward. From the sofa, the Ghoul shushed me, holding a gloved finger over my mouth.  

I could hear something outside, and I assumed that was what woke me up. It was a strange sound, of someone dragging their feet through the dirt and the mud. We sat there in silence for a full half an hour, until the dragging sound moved away from the hut and back out into the darkness.  

“You mind takin’ the next watch, Sweetheart?” he said, “I need to get a couple hours kip in before we set off tomorrow.”  

“Sure,” I say tentatively, pulling out my pistol. “I’m glad you finally trust me.”  

“Well, I’m a huge fan.” He laid heavy emphasis on the ‘huge’, winking at me through the dusk light. I rolled my eyes, but inside I felt a little proud for some stupid goddamn reason.  

Back when I started acting, I didn’t think I’d have any living fans – never mind a half-dead irradiated man from 200 years in the future. Is he half-dead? It’d never been explained to me at the brothel – I’d just done my service and taken the RadAway. None of the others had ever stuck around to tell me their life story.  

We switched places, I sat myself down on the sofa and the Ghoul lay down on the bedroll on the floor.  

“Damn, this shit is fuckin’ uncomfortable.” I heard him say, and I let out a laugh under my bed.  

“I didn’t complain,” I whispered, and he made a grunting noise. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to be an insult or not, but I just chuckled quietly and pulled out my pistol, aimed at the door ready for anyone who tried to force their way through.  

The sun rose quickly after that, and by the light of the sky, I was able to get a better look at the Ghoul’s sleeping face. There was something so familiar about him, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I decided it was the cowboy look – it reminded me of the niche I’d almost fallen into after my three-month contract with Cooper’s team. The audience had loved our chemistry on screen in The Man from Calabasas, and the studios knew they’d get a lot more money if we came as a package deal – so we shot Under the Covers, City of Starlight and Valley of the Gun together. It took me back to the last film I’d shot, the one I hadn’t finished shooting.  

I looked down at my clothes – the same clothes I’d been wearing 200 years ago on set. The ‘Western Hooker’ dress, of which there had originally been five different versions. The hat, which I’d stolen from my co-worker as a joke, but had still been on my head when we’d been told to start running. For a moment, I could still smell the food that they’d made us on set. I could still smell the horse manure, and the flashing of lights.  

I looked back at the Ghoul, awake now, and almost came to a realisation.

Part 2

[theocddiaries]

Bruce: Clark!? Clark! They're gone! They're gone! Clark: ? Bruce: Every picture we've taken for the last seven years is gone! Clark: What are you talking about? You have backups, don't you? Bruce: No, they were on the computer, and now they're gone… Listen, I keep hearing about a cloud. Do we have a cloud? Clark: Just the black one over our heads. Jason [From the other room]: We don't have a cloud! Bruce: Well, can we get one?! We need to buy one right now. Oh, my God, everything is gone… Dick's graduation, Tim's graduation, Dick's birthday, Jason's birthday, Tim's birthday! Damian: Not hearing a lot of Damian… Bruce: Do something besides read, and we'll take your picture. Sorry. I'm just too panicked to coddle you right now. [Dick, Tim and Jason come into the living room]. Dick: Wait… do not tell me the photo where I ran up against the wall and did that perfect flip was on there! It's only the most awesome photo ever taken, and I'll never be able to do it again! Ohh! You really Tim'd this one up, Tim! Tim: Well, it's not my fault, Dick! You know, if we had the original cord that came with the computer… But no! You had to take it up to college. So now Dad has this cheap knock-off Mr. Cord, so when I plugged it into the computer, it said: "this device is not supported by your cord"! Bruce: It's not the cord! It's the computer! [Gasps] Disney World! [To Clark]. I told you we needed a new computer. Yet, the man who knows nothing about computers said this one is fine! Clark: Don't try to blame this on me. I don't even know why we need a damn computer. How many times have I said to print them out, Bruce? Just print them out. Bruce: Gee, that's really helpful right now, Clark. Thanks! I'm gonna be sick… Clark: Look, you only need six pictures in life, anyway… Born, first day of school, first car, married, first kid… Funeral. Jason: What about second kid? Tim: Or third? Clark: Kids look like kids. Bruce [Gasps]: Kids! Where are the kids pictures? Where are the picture from eight years ago and before… Before they all went digital? Damian: You lost those, too?! Bruce: No, no, no, wait. I think I have them in a box somewhere. Like a-a knock-off stride rite box from when you kids were little. Oh, my God, I haven't seen it in forever. We got to find that box! Everybody, just start looking! Clark: Really, Bruce? Are we really gonna do this now? It's Christmas Eve, and you're running around, making yourself a wreck over some pictures. Relax. Nobody's dead. Bruce: Yes, they are! 15-year-old Tim is dead! He's gone, and we'll never set eyes on him again now. And what about 10-year-old Jason, when he was sweet and he liked me? He's gone, too. There were thousands of pictures, Clark… thousands! Clark: Of this family?! Why?! I don't get it. It's like you're trying to archive for some museum that's never gonna be built. Unless you're a president or a serial killer, nobody cares! Bruce: I care! God, if we don't have computer pictures and we don't have picture pictures, we have nothing! Our history is gone! Tim: I can't remember anything without pictures! What did I eat for breakfast today? See? Gone! Bruce: Oh, God, could I have thrown it away when we did that spring cleaning a couple years ago? That would be so typical of me! Other people have a system, and I don't have a system, and now it's gone! Damian: Father, it's not your fault. Bruce: Yes, it is. This whole damn house is just a system failure. That computer has not been backed up for 67 weeks! I just kept hitting, "remind me later." Everything here is "remind me later." We live a "remind me later" life.