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zepskies · 2 months ago

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Basic Instinct

Pairing: Alec McDowell x F. Reader

Summary: You and Alec adapt to the realities of a human/transgenic relationship, especially during your pregnancy.

AN: Well, thanks to these lovely souls @winchestergirl2 @sunbeambarbie, and my patrons over on Patreon, I’m back with more of the Being Human storyverse! This idea could become a series of loose one-shots as I come up with more ideas around this premise (navigating a relationship with a transgenic that has…shall we say, animalistic tendencies).

Also, this is my first entry for Jacklesverse Bingo '24!~ @jacklesversebingo

Prompt: She whispers in his ear, and he breaks into a smile.

Word Count: 2.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Protective Alec, fluff, elements of scenting, marking/claiming, hint of spice~

💜 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Alec shrugs the snow flurries off his jacket and dusts off his hair. He works past the shiver that accompanies the icy slush running off his head and shoulders, down to his boots.

He doesn’t mind the cold in these Seattle winters, but he hates slush. It’s messy and muddy, and the gray, placid sky doesn’t care about how many sectors he has to hit before his run of Jam Pony deliveries are done.

It doesn’t care about how he has to spend a few extra moments dragging the soles of his boots across the faded welcome mat into his apartment, but you do. You’ve got a thing about tracking in mud across the wood floors, even if they are already cracked and squeaky in certain places.

He savors the warmth of the living room when he finally gets inside and closes the door behind him.

“Honey, I’m home,” he calls out tiredly, but with a note of playfulness. He half-expects you to be napping, as you tend to do in the afternoon at this stage of your pregnancy, especially now that the days have gotten so much shorter. It’s already pitch black outside, looking more like midnight than half past four.

To his surprise, you’re not only awake, but you’re zipping up the purple winter coat he got you—the one that actually fits you over your rounded belly. Your head raises, and your face brightens to see him as you wrangle your shopping bag over your shoulder.

“Hey,” you greet him, adding a kiss when you approach him at the door. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Alec stops you from moving past him with his hands meeting your waist.

“Hey, whoa, where’s the fire?” he asks, his brows furrowing.

“I’m just going to the market. We need a few things. So, you know, we can eat,” you say with a tease of a smile. “You probably had a long day, so you can shower up and chill if you want. I’ll be right back.”

Alec makes a sound of refusal and doesn’t let go of you when you try to keep heading for the door. You raise a brow at him in confusion.

“It’s dark as hell out there. Cold, wet, and muddy, and not to mention crazy traffic with people trying to get home,” he says. “And since I just came from that frigid hellscape, I’m gonna have to insist that you stay here and warm me up.”

His hands begin to sneak under your jacket and sweater layers, and you squeal and squirm a bit as his cold fingers find your skin, teasing your sides. You bite your lip against a smile and push at his chest, no matter how impossible that may be. Alec’s tall, lithe frame might not look particularly strong, but there’s no moving him once the transgenic plants his feet.

Just like there’s often no changing his stubborn mind on certain things, you’ve noticed, particularly in situations like this…

“I’ll be right back,” you say. “An hour, tops. Unless you want rice and canned tuna again, we need food.”

Alec pauses, his lips threatening to frown. But in a moment, a decision is made in his mind, and he grabs your bag off your shoulder.

“Fine, let’s go,” he says.

You pause, watching him open the door and hold it open for you. You sigh at him, but you adjust your winter hat and slip on your gloves before you step outside. Alec once again locks the door behind him and joins you on the sidewalk, slipping an arm around your waist to guide you snug against his side.

It’s both affection and protection. You can tell in the way he “casually” scopes the street, the neighborhood you’ve lived in relative peace for the past six months.

Still, he positions himself between you and the road, where a van zips by. It veers widely to avoid a pothole, looking like it might just take the sidewalk curb along with it. Alec tenses for a moment, until the van finally passes.

“People are freakin’ crazy in this city,” he says, shaking his head. “Just because the streetlights are more suggestion than law—”

“Alec, you drive like a maniac,” you point out. He scoffs at you.

“Oh, don’t even,” you say, cutting him off from whatever smartassed retort he was about to give. “Remember that time you ran into a chicken coop? You came home wearing bird shit and feathers in your hair.”

“Okay, but who keeps live poultry on the corner of a busy four-way intersection?” he grouses. “Make it make sense.”

Although you roll your eyes, it’s hard not to smile at your boyfriend’s antics. You two walk together amiably down to the market while he tells you about his day of deliveries. It weirdly makes you a little jealous. You stopped working after the whole Ames White debacle, when you were kidnapped. (You're still trying to block that traumatic episode out of your memory.)

First, it was just a challenge to figure out where you and Alec were going to live. Logan is generous to a fault, but you couldn’t take up room in his apartment forever. He did make good on his promise to scope out the safest apartment you two could afford: a walkup on the moderately less skeevy side of town.

Alec hasn’t outright tried to ban you from working, but you two agreed that it would be better for you not to return to Jam Pony, both for logistical and safety reasons. Ames White is dead, but the rest of his radical organization—a damn breeding cult—is too well connected for Alec to want to take any chances. They’d likely known where you worked and followed you when you went to Alec’s old apartment that day.

All that aside, however, it’s a simple fact that your poor bladder won’t last five minutes on a bike. It’s really all you can do to walk to the market. The third trimester hasn’t exactly been easy on your body, but Alec hovers close behind you, making sure you choose whatever meat and vegetables you want, regardless of the price.

“Hey, they’ve got turkey. That’s new,” he says, grabbing a large bird off the row of hanging poultry. The smell of its rawness triggers a bubble of nausea, making you turn your face away and cover your nose and mouth with a sound of disgust.

Alec quickly holds it away from you, but he has the guy running the kiosk bag it up for him. You stop him with a hand on his arm.

“That’s too expensive,” you whisper to him in warning, your eyes widening. Alec gives you an easy smile.

“Sweetheart, if there’s one thing you and the baby need right now, it’s protein,” he reasons. “I was planning on picking up some extra shifts this week anyway.”

He gives the man the money without a second thought. You don’t know whether to frown, or shed pitiful tears when he does stuff like that. You’re still not altogether used to it, having someone who takes care of you for a change. You’ve spent most of your life doing that part yourself.

When Alec turns back around, grinning all proud as a peacock at the good deal he got and the haul he has slung in the bag over his shoulder, his expression falls at seeing the tears in your eyes.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, touching your arm. You shake your head with a smile.

“Nothing,” you sniff and wipe at your face. “Goddamn hormones.”

Alec smirks, but before he can tease you, a broad frame knocks into you from behind. It would’ve sent you to the ground hard if Alec’s reflexes hadn’t been quicker. His arms come around you, firm but gentle as he rights you. He glances behind him and bristles with anger, his spine stiff and his body taut. You rarely see that kind of sharpness in his eyes.

They’re gentler when they turn to you.

“You okay?” he asks with furrowed brows of concern. You have to catch a winded breath, but you nod, meeting his eyes. He doesn’t let go of you until you get your balance back.

Then, his gaze flicks up to the man who bowled you over. He stands at the same kiosk Alec got the turkey from. Meathead is trying to buy the last one.

“Alec,” you warn.

“I’ll just be a second,” he says. You reach for his arm and try to tell him that you��re fine, but it’s like a switch has been flipped inside him, narrowing his gaze. He slips out of your grasp and leaves you with the bag of groceries.

“Damn it,” you mutter.

Not even a minute later, Alec swings a quick, exacting fist. You wince as the larger man nearly breaks his jaw on the pavement.

You can’t help but giggle and try to squirm away as he noses along your throat. It tickles. His arms are a loose, comfortable embrace in the familiar peace of your bed. You’re swathed by pillows and warm blankets while Alec is tucked along your side. His long legs bend at a slight angle with his knees brushing your thigh.

“Would you stop already?” you say, swatting his thigh. You feel his smirk against your skin.

“How’re my girls doing?” he asks. You chuckle. He was a bit stunned at first to find out that you’re having a girl. You thought he might’ve been hoping for a boy, easier for him to connect with someday. But the way he dotes on you sometimes, now, you can already tell he’s going to spoil your daughter rotten.

“We’re good,” you reply.

He sighs and settles in comfortably against you. This is your favorite thing, and you think it’s his too. After a long day, it’s your time to just rest and be with each other, either watching TV or catching up about the day. It’s everything and nothing at all.

Eventually, his voice interrupts the quiet again.

“You smell different, you know.”

You quirk a brow at that one. “What do you mean?”

When he shakes his head, you feel the tickle of his hair under your ear.

“Hmm, I dunno. Earthy, I guess,” he says. “Pregnant.”

You have to laugh. “I smell pregnant? Not sure if that’s a compliment.”

“Oh, it is,” he nods. His lips press a line of tantalizing kisses down your throat and collarbone. You smile and curl up a hand to sink your fingers into his hair, gently massaging his head.

It’s taken you some time to figure out exactly what a transgenic is, exactly, and you’ve come to realize that all of them are spliced with a little something special. Each and every one of them, from Alec and Max, to Joshua and the others who live in Terminal City—whether they look human or not, they’re unique in some way. It gives them certain…traits. Ones that betray the animal DNA they were partially created with.

As the events of this afternoon replay in your mind, your smile begins to slip.

“That was too much today, at the market,” you tell him, now that he’s calm. “What happened there?”

Alec stills.

“Nothing, just…you didn’t hear him. The guy was a smartass,” he says.

“What, couldn’t handle a taste of your own medicine?” you quip, but you squeeze his arm gently. It rests above the swell of your belly. “No, it was more than that.”

His jaw clenches; a telltale sign that he knows exactly what you’re talking about, even if he doesn’t want to answer you. You turn your head and scooch back a little so you can see his face better. His playfulness is long gone, but he meets your gaze.

“I think…” you whisper in his ear, tapping his arm with a finger, “that you have a bit of wolf in your cocktail. Not as much as Joshua, obviously, but still.”

Alec blinks in surprise, and he breaks into a smile.

“Oh, really? What gives you that idea?” he asks.

“Do you want the list chronologically or alphabetically?” you say. Alec rolls his eyes, but you level him with a wry look. “Sense of smell. Excessive protectiveness—”

“Excessive?” Alec raises a brow.

“Not to mention the biting, Count Dracula,” you finish, gesturing with a smile at the back of your neck. There’s a mark there that he refuses to let fade away.

Now, he becomes sheepish. His plush lips form a bit of a pout.

“I thought you liked that,” he says, his eyes glinting with mischief. You reach out a hand to cup his cheek.

“Oh, it’s hot as hell,” you tease back. You draw him in, guiding his face to yours for a slow kiss, simmering with heat.

“But it’s…possessive,” you say, after you break from him. Your words are a mere whisper in the small space between your faces. “Like you’re claiming me.”

The green in Alec’s eyes have darkened a touch. They roam your face.

“Well, you’re mine, aren’t you?” he asks. But his tone is deceptive. It’s anything but a question.

Your lips curve into a smile. You thumb at his chin.

“Yeah,” you reply.

Alec’s hand slides up your neck to cup your cheek, guiding you to him this time as he claims you in a more devouring kiss. He steals your breath, over and over, plying you with his tongue and with the weight of his body wrapping around you. He moves you gently onto your side and swipes your hair out of the way, so he can kiss his way down your neck.

He stops for a moment at that mark, where he grazes over the sensitive flesh with a hint of teeth. You shudder. Hot tingles run down your spine, pluming warmth and wetness between your legs.

“Alec,” you breathe, almost on a gasp. You feel him already hard and ready, pressed against you.

“I got you, sweetheart.”

His voice is smooth in your ear, but you’ve known him long enough to hear his need. It echoes your own. You take his hand and begin to lead him where you want him, all while he buries his face into your neck and inhales your sweet, familiar scent.

“Always,” he says.

AN: Short and sweet, but I had fun revisiting the Being Human world. I'd love to dip back in again someday! Until then, I hope you enjoy! 💜

I have a few more stories for Jacklesverse coming soon...

Join Patreon 🌟 || Series Masterlist

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Alec M. Tag List (Part 1):

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @brianochka

@branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70

@clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @my-stories-vault @iwishiwas-sleeping @jessjad @pieandmonsters

@alwaystiredandconfused @deans-spinster-witch @angelbabyyy99 @sexyvixen7

@jackles010378 @nancymcl @idiotdyslexic @heartlessdelusions @longlostx11

@chriszgirl92 @hobby27 @waynes-multiverse @lovelyunjinn @twinkleinadiamondsky

@ultimatecin73 @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @lovelystoriesaj @onlyangel-444

#Basic Instinct #jacklesversebingo24 #Being Human-verse #alec mcdowell #alec mcdowell x reader #alec mcdowell x you #alec mcdowell x female reader #being human #dark angel #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles #jackles #alec mcdowell fanfiction #dark angel fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles x you #zepskies writes

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huboi · 10 months ago

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᭨ ⃟⃜㊙️. THE ITADORIS’ ू✙˚💬 ̳͟͞͞. 📁💢

CHAPTER 1 : EYE-TO-EYE

★ — NEXT CHAPTER

LINK TO ᭨ ⃟⃜㊙️. THE ITADORIS’ ू✙˚💬 ̳͟͞͞. 📁💢 MASTERLIST

╰┈➤ summary; one friday afternoon, you come face-to-face with a man covered in tats. when at the counter, a small voice politely asks ‘papa’ for a cookie…

╰┈➤ includes; gn! barista! reader, single dad! sukuna, child! yuji, extreme fluff, sukuna is 28 (had yuji at 18), reader is early 20s’ so somewhat of an age gap

╰┈➤ a/n; consider this mini series as a 1k follower special! I’m so stoked I made it this far, tysm for all the support throughout the years <3

╰┈➤ taglist; @alluresenses, @ryomku, @slaysksmska, @vduxx, @yanelis-world, @cloudy51, @gangeyes, @khaleesihavilliard, @valen-yamyam16, @craxy-gezel @kunasexygf, @sukunamylovexoxo, @mazzd4 (if you wanna be added just hit me an ask :3)

THE GENTLE TINKLE of the bell alerted you of a new costumer, causing you to turn around away from the coffee machine ready to greet said customer with a smile and polite welcome, only for your body to stiffen in reflex.

the man that now stood in front of the counter had an eerie aura to him. he wore a black wife beater, the tight clothing highlighting the muscles that lay beneath the clothing, his arms covered in black tats, the muscles making the tats seem extra prominent. his grey sweatpants may be baggy, but you guessed that underneath lays muscular legs and thighs that could easily crush a watermelon-

snapping out of checking out the hot, dangerous looking stranger, you gave him a strained smile at him, hoping he couldn’t sense your nervousness. a small voice saying “papa, can I please have a cookie?” startled you. two little chubby hands cling to the counter, a mop of fluffy pink hair peeking at the variety of cookies on display.

“oi you brat! you’ve already had dessert at chosos’, I don’t need you bouncing off the damn walls when we get back,” the man grunted, arms crossing against his chest, which made his man tits more profound.

“hey, how about this; you can have a hot chocolate instead of a cookie?” you suggested, smiling at the cute little boy in front of you.

facing his father, yuji proceeded to plead him with the signature puppy dog eyes whilst a continuous chorus of pleases left his mouth.

sukuna sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he mumbled out “one hot chocolate for the brat and black coffee for me,” causing yuji to throw a little celebration, squealing in delight and hugging sukunas’ slutty waist, literally jumping with joy.

the sight plastered a small, genuine smile onto your face, unbeknownst to you, causing a blush to form onto sukunas’ usually stoic face, heart pounding in his chest at this new feeling.

when they found a table to sit at, you began making their drinks. whilst brewing sukunas’ coffee you thought to yourself why only the father was out with his son, is the mother out of the picture? do they take turns with custody over the child? is he simply having some father son bonding time?

you choose not to pry over it, it’s none of your business anyways. it’s kind of comical seeing such a scary, dangerous looking guy with a cute little kid. you have to admit though, the kid’s cute, even though he’s just a carbon copy of the man, but cuter.

when finished with their drinks, you quickly carried them over to their table, noticing how yujis’ face seemed to brighten up at the sight of you carrying his sweet drink. you placed their drinks onto the table, yuji thanking you with all his might whilst sukuna mumbled a small ‘thanks’ in response.

“hiya! i’m yuji and this is my daddy sukuna!” the boy greeted before you left back to the counter. you decided to stay and talk to the kid a bit, since it was near closing time and no other customers seemed to be coming in.

“hi yuji, i’m (name), it’s nice to meet you,” you smiled, ruffling his hair, causing him to let out little giggles at the gesture. sukuna sat back idly watching you interact with his son.

‘mmm, they interact well with yuji. I haven’t had any luck with any partners, especially when they find out I’m a father. his mother was a piece of shit and didn’t even want yuji in the first place, she left me with the brat when he was born’ sukuna thought to himself, maybe he could try shooting his shot? earlier he did notice you eyeing him up and down like a piece of candy, so maybe you’re interested?

“oi brat! quit annoying them!” sukuna berated yuji, testing out the waters to check if you really did want to talk to yuji because you wanted to or if you felt obliged to.

“nonesense! he’s not annoying me, a cutie such as him could never annoy me. I love kids, they give me so much joy. your dad sure is a lucky guy to have you isn’t he?” you grinned, pinching his chubby cheeks in the process causing him to whine out in retaliation.

internally sukuna is smitten, he’s never seen anyone treat yuji with such love, other than choso. maybe you are the right one after all? the problem is, how can he ask you out without making a scene? (the scene being yuji making a huge fuss over him having a partner for the first time since his mum)

“do you have a pen by any chance?” the sudden sound of sukunas’ deep voice sent a small shiver down your spine. “yup, just give me a second sir” you curtly responded, rummaging through your breast pocket before grabbing a pen and giving it to the tatted man.

sukuna grabbed a napkin from the table and hastily scribbled down something before placing the pen back onto the table and practically chugging his coffee.

“brat you finished with your drink?” sukuna asked the little munchkin “noooo, need more time!” yuji cried out. you simply took his cup and placed the coffee into a take out coffee cup, giving it to him so he could drink it on the way back.

“thank you!” yuji bowed, before taking his dads’ way larger hand into his own tiny chubby one. you simply watched as they walked out of the shop, the gentle tinkle of the bell indicating that they’ve left.

you spotted the napkin sukuna wrote on, numbers scribbled along with a small ‘my number : if interested text me and we can go on a date’

you became flustered, feeling your heart flutter at the thought of seeing the attractive dilf once again. maybe you’d text him tomorrow, as you’re usually free on Saturdays as the shop closes earlier at 12:00.

you’re surprised that sukuna was interested, he didn’t show much interest during your interaction. he’s going to be a hard guy to read.

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thejakeslayla · 1 year ago

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╰─▸❝ enhypen reaction to reader accidentally hurting themselves❞ maknae line ver.

pairing: enhypen x gn!reader ୨୧ genre: fluff ୨୧ warnings: reader getting hurt, blood, bruises, niki being annoying but adorable, reading falling down stairs,

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ yang jungwon 양정원 ✩ warnings: blood

jungwon stepped out of the kitchen for just a moment. upon returning from work, he promptly agreed to assist you with dinner. however, as he realised he needed to change, a loud crash of breaking glass and your startled exclamation drew him out of the bedroom, still in the process of putting on his shirt. he managed to finish dressing before entering the kitchen, but as he stood in the doorway, you stopped him.

“wonnie, wait! there’s glass everywhere,” you warned him but your calls didn’t seem to stop him from getting closer to you. he easily manoeuvred his way through the shards, reaching out to touch your hands.

“god, y/nnie.. what happened?” he asked. the pain was unbearable, yet you managed to endure it. when jungwon touched the inner part of your hand, you couldn't help but hiss.

he recoiled quickly, hands in the air. "i was trying to reach for this cup, didn't realise the other one was in front of it. i just didn't see it," you explained, and he listened. "i tried to catch it, but i didn't make it in time, and the glass cut me."

once again, your boyfriend held you, this time by your wrist, guiding you toward the sink. he turned on the water and, before placing your hands under it, checked the temperature.

as the blood washed away, he hummed. "thank goodness there are no deep cuts or glass pieces stuck. you need to be more careful, love."

jungwon instructed you to wash your hands slowly with soap while he cleared the glass on the floor and fetched the first aid kit from your bathroom. returning, he turned off the water, prompting you to sit on a chair. crouching in front of you, slowly and gently bandaging your wounds.

you observed how his hands moved cautiously around yours, as if afraid of causing more harm. it was as if you were so delicate that the slightest touch might break your skin. unconsciously, a smile formed on your lips.

"thank you, jungwonnie. you're the best," your whisper made him look up. his eyes seemed to brighten as they met yours—the smile that healed not only your heart but also every wound.

"be careful next time. i may not be the tallest, but it's better if you call me when you need help, okay, honey?" he advised, unaware of how much this seemingly small gesture meant to you.

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ kim sunoo 김선우 ✩

"should we order something?" sunoo inquired as you both relaxed on a saturday afternoon. you shifted your gaze from your phone to his face and shook your head.

"honestly, i'm craving ramen. we can just make that," you replied. with your answer, your boyfriend nodded, removing his arm from around your waist. he stood up, and you quickly followed him to the kitchen.

while sunoo opened the door, your eyes remained glued to your phone screen, as you were finishing reading an article that was praising enhypen’s new album. you and sunoo were always very supporting of each other, but with more and more months of being together, you had become the biggest fan of sunoo's stage character. this passion led you to create a twitter account, where you shared your thoughts on new songs, posted pictures, and simply gushed about how sweet sunoo was.

lost in the article, you accidentally banged your knee on the half-open door and your first response was to bend down and grab the hurting spot with your free hand, but misjudging the distance, you also ended up hitting your head. sunoo turned back, puzzled, at the loud noises. yelping in pain, you straightened up and looked at your amused boyfriend.

"what did you do?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips

"i don't want to talk about this," you protested, placing a hand on your throbbing forehead.

he then laughed, pulling you into a hug. his hand resting on your head, pressing you to his chest. he kept laughing at your clumsiness while you tried to free yourself from the tight grip. “it’s not funny!” you said, voice muffled.

"well, it is for me," he chuckled, his hand gently caressing your head, causing you to slowly melt in his arms. "how much does it hurt?" he asked as he pulled away, planting a kiss on your red forehead.

"a lot," you admitted, and as sunoo kissed your forehead again, you blushed. “thank you,” you whispered, feeling warmth spreading to your cheeks.

"be careful, please," he insisted, his lips moving from your forehead to your cheek.

“can we forget about this and just make ramen?” you suggested and he moved away with a smile on his face, now turning to the kitchen counters.

"i can make the ramen; you sit and rest. i don't want you to hurt yourself again, bubba," sunoo insisted, and you obeyed, enjoying watching him move around the kitchen with ease.

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ nishimura riki 西村力 ✩ warnings: bruises, niki being annoying but cute

“y/n we’re going to be late!” niki's voice echoed from downstairs. the boy decided to take you out on a proper date this time. while your usual dates were casual, niki wanted to treat you to a nice restaurant, as he wanted to make it special.

not that you were complaining. you enjoyed every date niki planned; his ideas were usually very cute and just comfortable. full of laughter, fun and pure love. but when he insisted on calling this one a "real date," it unexpectedly brought on a wave of anxiety, despite you and niki being together for a long time.

"y/n!" he called again, and you knew you had to head downstairs before niki could get mad, which rarely happens. you left the bedroom, dressed in an unexpectedly elegant outfit – a departure from your usual attire for outings with your boyfriend. it was also the first time you'd see niki dressed similarly.

the shoes you wore added height, and as you hurried downstairs, you realized you weren't accustomed to walking in them. (since it’s gender neutral, you can either imagine platforms or heels, the choice is all yours) as you ran downstairs, your heel missed a step, causing you to tumble down the staircase. unfortunately, you were almost at the top of staircase. niki watched, frozen in place, as you went down, the fall seeming to stretch on forever.

it was happening so fast, you couldn’t even grab the railing, only a few seconds after, trying to slow down by using your hands. finally stopping on the last step, tears welled up in your eyes, the pain being unbearable. niki chuckled initially, but concern quickly replaced his laughter. "baby, are you okay?" he rushed over.

"do i look okay, nishimura?" you retorted, attempting anger that your wobbly voice betrayed.

"it's okay, y/nnie. grab my hands, please. i'll help you, okay?" niki could read you well, understanding you needed him right now. "oh, you big baby, stop being grumpy and let me help you," he added when you hesitated.

with a heavy sigh, you took his hands. "you were supposed to be my knight in shining armor and catch me in time," you huffed.

he only shook his head and guided you to the couch so you could sit down. your hip was hurting so much, it was impossible to walk correctly, so you slightly limped. niki quickly noticed, grabbing your waist and using more of his strength to help you.

when you sat down, another heavy sigh left your lips. niki, uncertain of his role in taking care of you, stood there, unsure. usually you were the responsible one, taking care of him when he’s hurting. the roles were never reversed, so he was just lost.

"can i see?" he finally asked, eyes on your hip. "we need to check the damage after your close encounter with our stairs," he said, earning an eye roll from you. after a moment, you nodded.

when niki uncovered your bare skin, he gasped. "baby, this is insane. it's not even on your hip; it's all over the side of your thigh," he said, making you look over. for some reason the boy reached out to touch it and the fear of him touching it was enough to make you scream.

“are you insane?” you squeaked, moving away from niki.

“y/n, do you think me, your amazing boyfriend would ever hurt you?” he asked and you gave him a serious look. “okay, back then i hit you with the ball by accident.”

"you literally yelled, 'y/n, catch this,' and then decided to throw the ball with your full strength." his silence spoke volumes. "go grab ice from the freezer, wrap it with a thin towel, go to the bathroom, and grab the ointment and bandages. my hands are all cut up," you instructed, and he hurried to comply.

it took him a while, maybe if he remembered everything it would be easier. but finally he returned with everything. he tried to gently put the ice pack against your skin, but well.. niki wasn’t the best at taking care of bruises like that.

“oh my god, niki. i will kill you,” you said, when the pain doubled after he not so slowly and not so gently touched your bruise with hard and cold ice.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry," he quickly apologized. "here, call the restaurant and tell them we won't make it," he said, passing his phone to you, contact to the restaurant displayed on screen.

“but, niki, you really wanted to go–”

“are you insane?” he repeated your previous words, “we're not going, not when you're hurting like that. we can go another time; you're more important than good food.”

“you're the best—DON’T POKE IT, ARE YOU STUPID—”

#thejakeslayla #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha x reader #enhypen x you #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #riki x reader #niki x reader #enhypen #enha

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chrissdollie · 8 months ago

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♡.˚ ୨୧ ｡˚ ♡.˚ eyes wide open

♡ summary: doing a bikini car wash was a lot easier than expected.. until your crush shows up ♡ warnings/notes: suggestive, matt sturniolo x reader, reader & matt are in hs, cursing ♡ wc: 945

you finished writing "CAR WASH FOR CHARITY" on your cardboard sign, putting the cap on the sharpie. the sun shines directly onto you and a small group of your girlfriends from school. one of your teachers encouraged everyone to find ways to gain money to donate to any charity of the school's choosing for extra credit in his class. so you and your group of friends decided a bikini car wash would be best.

"okay, donee!" you notify the girls while adjusting your pink bikini top. "oh god, it's already so hot." a girl fanned herself with her hand with sweat starting to moisten her very exposed body. you chuckle before reaching into your tiny purse that sat on your friend's car hood and pulling out lipgloss. seeing someone pull up, you quickly swipe a decent amount on your lips and grab the sponges.

everyone decided earlier that you should be the one to greet the customers since you're obviously the sweetest girl here. you strut up to the driver's side, your tits bouncing as you walk. the driver rolls down his window and you recognize him to be someone from your school. "hiya, jeremiah!" you wave with an inviting smile spread across your face, also nodding towards his friend in the passenger seat. he shamelessly eyes you up and down, not bothering to refrain himself. his buddy hits his arm, shaking his head with widened eyes. jeremiah rolls his. "shut up, i'm paying for this shit, may as well enjoy it."

about two hours have gone by, but thankfully it's still early! you girls sat on each others cars for your lunch break, munching and discussing the people who've come by. "yuck, that guy was seriously messed up, probably drunk." a girl scrunched up her nose. your close friend's eyes brightened, turning to you unexpectantly. "on a completely unrelated note, matt told nate who told jason who told madi who told me that he's coming by in the afternoon!" she squeals, shaking your arm excitedly. the other girls gasp and join in on the squealing, hyping you up.

a small smile creeps onto your lips, however, you're insanely nervous. your once silly little crush had fully blossomed into large and heavy feelings for the boy. last year, you would've probably jumped for joy and stripped naked so he'd notice you. you remind yourself that you're doing this for a good cause and extra credit. this is fine!

you wipe the sweat dripping from your neck when you hear an engine running. you turn around and see the vehicle your friends were just talking about. how very cliche. you throw the rest of your lunch out, walking up to the window. the face you'll never get tired of looking at blinks back at you once the window was halfway rolled down. "hey, n/n."

you smile toothily, "heyy matt! hi chris." you greet and the boy waves back with a smug grin. you hold your hands behind your back, lightly swinging back and forth. "i didn't know you guys were coming..!"

matt rolls his eyes. "fuckin' chris wanted to come." chris shoves his arm before muttering something under his breath with a sly smirk on his face. the boy scoffs in return, turning back to you. "we'll take the deluxe." he hands you the money and with that, you call over the girls.

like the other customers, your friends didn't hold back on rubbing their tits against the windows to earn cash tips. however, this time it was different because unlike the other guys, matt's eyes didn't scan every single inch of their bodies. you nervously scrub the car as you try to keep his gaze on you. under normal circumstances, you probably would've kept from showing off your body to matt. you were too shy for that anyhow. you still feel nervous, and even more so as bold thoughts flood your brain. ehhh fuck it, why not?

you confidently bring the sponge off the vehicle, raising it just under your neck. you squeeze it, bubbles and soapy liquid gushing out and trickling down the valley of your breasts. matt watches it fall to your stomach and down your thighs. he swallows, looking away before he gets hard-- that'd be embarrassing. but you're embarrassed too, you immediately regret your bold decision. especially when some of the girls cheer you on. matt looks back up, still looking at you. you bite your lip, moving closer to the car to finish cleaning.

once the car is fully rinsed, matt hands you a tip of $20. your eyes widen. "oh wow!" you giggle, bouncing on your heels, your tits jiggling. (matt has to clear his throat and look away). "thanks so much! so, um.. i'll see you around." you innocently smile as if you're not standing in front of him showing off most of your body. matt almost wishes he could stay just to keep watch of you so nobody tries anything with a sweet girl like you. "oorrr.. you can stay. only if you want!" you exclaim, biting the inside of your cheek shyly. he chuckles in response, bringing up a finger. he motions towards himself for you to come closer. you lean down, head slightly peeking in the open window.

"i'm gonna drop off chris, babe. i'll be back." he kisses your cheek with a pink face before winking and putting the car in reverse. you nod, bewildered and your mouth a little open. you step back and wave to chris whose clapping and you hear him say, "damnn, when did you grow a pair??" matt rolls his eyes and smiles at you before pulling out.

shitty ending mb :C tags! <3 (mentioning @emmastvrn bc u commented on the post hehe) @sturn777 @stargirlsturniololover @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee @freshsturns @emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668

#𐔌　♡ 　˚₊ matt sturniolo　₊˚ ⊹#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader

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twirlingsmilingwriting · 11 months ago

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Tolerate it || Young!Coriolanus Snow X Reader

"I sit and watch you reading with your... head low"

Truly feeling like the luckiest person alive when your former classmate and short term boyfriend asked you to marry him. Not even a year into the marriage and also a year into his presidency does the original love and admiration you felt from him start to dissipate. You can't help but feel trapped and tricked into a marriage in which he may have never loved you to begin with. Warnings: Angst, Love-Bombing, marriage, gender ambiguous reader, typical snow tags (manipulation), social isolation, alluding to sexual acts but not described, kissing Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I was listening to Evermore after watching tbosas and Tolerate It was just SCREAMING Snow vibes. I was fidgeting with the gold charm of my pearl necklace while anxiously looking over at my husband whose nose was too deep into a book to seem to care about me. I dropped my gaze from him to scan across the table and room. Our large dining room was red with gold accent pieces I had spent the morning dusting decorating the walls. We both sat at opposite ends of the long table, ever too long to just seat two people but it seemed the man couldn't do anything at home if he was within five feet of me. A bouquet of roses I placed in a ceramic vase sat between us on the table. He loved roses, he always did, so I placed them there to brighten his day and maybe even spark up conversation between us. I polished the plates we ate on delicately and even spent the afternoon painting designs onto the back of them. I had done all this in hopes I'd receive some sort of compliment from him but alas, there was none. I sat back and reminisced on the days of our love before it was like this. Truly, when I had first married Coriolanus I had felt like my life had started a new chapter. We dated in the spring and summer time of the year after we graduated from the academy. He was top of the class and while I never matched him in intelligence he had seemingly randomly taken a liking to me. We were acquaintances at most before that and then he started talking to me any chance he could get. I would gush to my friends about his charming smile and posture and they would warn me of the rumors that went around about him. They would tell me to never get to close to him as all those who got did would end up disgraced, missing, or dead. In some masochistic way, I truly felt enthralled by his magnetic aura, danger, and the mystery that surrounded him. His bright red coat was as red as the flags that man was but the danger of it all excited me. He wasn't the nicest man out there but when he was nice to me, I felt unique. I was the exception to his coldness.

We'd go out on dates and he would shower me with sweet nothings. He would tell me how I was the light that lit up the darkness of his life. He said my beauty could turn a man to stone. I will never forget the way he kissed me on the busiest street in the capital under the dancing streetlights and how I felt like time had stopped in that moment. The way he stroked the side of my face so delicately and told me I was the only one who had ever made him feel so alive. I was holding onto every breath that man had exhaled hoping he'd inhale me further into his life. We'd spend days together and call at night. I didn't notice it at the time but in retrospect it was tactical. I spent every moment of my waking days with him and soon my life started to be built around him. Every phone call from a friend I received that spoke about him in any negative way made me push them away and out of my life even further. He was the only one I talked to. He is my world. We were two seeds that had gotten dropped into the same pot and were growing into each other.

In the fall, I fell for him harder than I ever had before. It came to a height when we were walking through a park and watched as the changing leaves fell from the trees. He held my hand in his and he held me so tight as if he was afraid I'd float away and leave him. I would never of course, my life would bend to his will. My head rested against his arm like the red coat he always wore. He'd recount to me stories of his life that would make me laugh and smile. His strikingly blonde hair blew in the wind softly and I noticed every detail of how his icy blue eyes would crinkle when he'd smile at me. He was like a beautiful painting whose artist was unknown. I remember thinking that all I would ever want to be in this life is as significant to him as he is to me. I remember the earth shattering halt my heart felt when he turned to me and dropped down to one knee and proposed. A smirk plastered his face when I said yes. He stood back up and pulled me in by the waist. One hand on my chin and the other on my lower back. The feeling of his warm, soft lips on mine and the feeling of his hair tangled between my fingers. I remember the ecstasy of the moment and the feeling that my friends were wrong, the world was wrong, no one knew Coriolanus like I knew him. He wasn't a cold, calculated, and constantly plotting man, he was just misunderstood. When he pulled away from the kiss, he whispered in my ear that he would live a thousand life times if it meant he got to love me in the next. I remembered everything.

That was the first night we spent together. He snuck me into his house and we giggled in his bedroom when he shut the door. We told each other secrets and moved the furniture so we could dance. My head was placed onto his chest and we swayed to the sound of the music playing from his grandmothers record player. We shared moments of passion in his bed, fell asleep in each others arms, and woke up tangled in bed sheets. I remember thinking he was truly mine.

We married shortly after in the beginning of December. The ceremony was lavish and beautiful. I remember the way his fingers tucked my hair behind my ear. A single tear fell from his eyes and he leaned in and kissed me. He must've been so taken aback from my beauty as I was with his. Only one of my friends attended the wedding but I was too happy that I was marrying the man of my dreams to care. The first weeks of our married life were wondrous. He had risen to power and we had moved into the absolute gargantuan mansion we live in today. He couldn't seem to keep his hands off me and I was the diamond of his eyes. He loved to show me off for the cameras and crowds. Then one day, winter came and roses don't survive.

It started off small. He didn't want to talk or cuddle in bed at night anymore. I assumed he was just tired from working so hard. Then he stopped complimenting my outfits or hair, trading them with passive aggressive comments and ways I could improve myself for him. He no longer wanted to talk at dinner. We stopped speaking at some point. He wouldn't want to hear my voice unless it was to service him. In public, he still was my adoring husband but in private, I felt like I was living with a stranger. At night, I can hear him whispering sweet nothings to the air and humming melodies and I can only hope he's dreaming about me.

These days, I haven't been sleeping, I've been trying to listen in and see if I can make out the words he is saying in his sleep but I haven't been able to make out any other words than lines about trees. While he is having his meetings all day, I am constantly doing new diets, trying new makeup, new hair, decorating the house differently, leaving loving notes on his desk, anything to try and earn a compliment from him. Even if a compliment is too much, I am begging for a word from that man. I love him. I still love him. I don't believe it is possible for me to stop loving him. I can't dare to think of loving any one else. He is so much wiser, and smarter, and more beautiful than I am and I find myself becoming the moon to his earth. I spin around him, pulled in by his orbit except, I'm not his moon. I'm just a star in his sky that is begging to be his sun. I just want a footnote in the story of his life. Even an annotation on a page of his story will be enough for me.

The sound of him placing his heavy book onto the table pulled me out of my trance and my eyes met his blue ones once more. Instantly, I am struck frozen. His eyes had such a way of pulling you in. I looked down at his lips as they pressed a small smirk and his eyes squinted a little while he picked up his fork from the table and looked at me. He examined my appearance and I sat up straighter. The thick tension in the air put me on edge. Finally, his lips parted and he spoke.

"Is that a new hair color?" he asked, keeping his eyes laser focused on me.

"It is... d- do you like it?" He looked me over again and leaned back in his chair contemplating what to say next. Then, shortly, sweetly, and sharply, he muttered the word,

"Tolerable"

PART TWO PART THREE

#coriolanus snow #fanfic #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tbosas #angst #fanfiction #tom blyth #the hunger games #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth imagine #president snow #young president snow #tom blyth x you #tbosas imagine

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giamee · 2 years ago

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𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐔!

୨♡୧ pairings :: yanqing x reader ; jing yuan x reader ; gepard x reader ; sampo x reader

୨♡୧ contains :: established relationship, some slight babygirlification maybe? idk im just saying words at this point, blatant favouritism

୨♡୧ gia's notes :: finally posting requests thank u for the patience sorry that this took so long for something so short 😖😖 i kept it pg because i didn't want to make any requesters uncomfortable BUT if anyone wants an nsfw version of this just say the word 🫡

୨♡୧ requests :: anon -> hihi!! may i req general relationship hcs of yan qing and/or jing yuan?? <3 also yr blog theme is so cuteSHSHDHHDHDDH take yr time in writing the req and have a lovely day ahead :> // anon -> HII!!! i saw that you're opening requests!! can i request gepard and sampo as boyfriends plss??? tysm!! 💖

𓆩♡𓆪 YANQING

-the sweetest omg :((

-definitely the most attentive bf ever

-you need something? he’s already out the door on his way to the store to get it

-you can’t reach something? yanqing is rushing to your side, plucking the item off the top shelf and handing it to you, with a sweet kiss pressed to your cheek for extra measure

-you notice your shoelace is untied but your hands are full? yanqing is kneeling down in front of you and making the perfect knot that wont undo, and then he’s taking what you’re holding off of you so that you can walk with your hands free

-i feel like he would really enjoy the outdoors

-like a date with him would include walking around the xianzhou luofu and admiring the scenery before stopping to eat something in a park

-idk if the xianzhou luofu has parks but idc roll with it

-and he is such a ray of sunshine too!!

-always smiling and sunny

-even the weather seems to brighten when he’s around

-when you’re having a bad day and have to cancel on a date with him, he’s so understanding, asking if you want him to come over to yours instead with food and some movies to watch

-and when you hear him knocking on your door and his sweet smile on the other side with not a hint of annoyance at your last minute cancellation, your worries melt at his gesture and when his scent engulfs you as he wraps you in a warm hug

-hmmm he would definitely gossip with you

-IMAGINE HIM LAYING WITH HIS HEAD IN YOUR LAP WITH HIS HAIR DOWN AND UR COMBING THROUGH IT WITH YOUR FINGERS WHILE HE TELLS U ABOUT ANY DRAMA THAT HE'S HEARD EEE

-carries two hairbands on his wrist - one for himself and one for you if you ever need it

-10/10 boyfriend i love him :(

𓆩♡𓆪 JING YUAN

-my husband

-he would be such a chill bf

-obviously since he’s a general he’s quite busy so you may not be able to see each other as much as you would like to :(

-but jing yuan will always make time for you <3

-whether that means he has to, god forbid, skip out on an afternoon nap to finish paperwork, he WILL get home in time to greet you with a kiss that has you melting into him

-while he may appear reserved at times, he’s a very passionate lover (wink)

-he just likes to keep things private

-he believes that’s what makes your relationship more special

-i feel like he’s kind of got a thing for domesticity

-jing yuan holds an appreciation for the slower, quieter moments in life

-moments where time doesn’t matter, because you’re asleep in his arms and the slight gust of your breath against his bare skin is soothing him into a state of overwhelming calm that reminds him that he has absolutely nowhere to be for the foreseeable future

-(he just really likes sleeping with you)

-you definitely have to convince him to get out of bed some days

-the general of the xianzhou luofu is in your bed and whining when you try to wiggle out of his grasp, hugging you tighter despite your protests

-and he'll never admit it but the mf will POUT when you both inevitably have to get up

-and he'll be so dramatic about it too

-"i thought you loved me, why are you leaving..."

-and you shoot him a glare while you get dressed

-and then you see the way his toned back is rising and falling gently as your boyfriend just lays there and breathes, eyes fixed on you as if he were committing you to memory, and the look in his eyes draws you back to your shared bed

-because five more minutes really couldn't hurt, not when they're spent with him <33

𓆩♡𓆪 GEPARD

-this man

-dhfjjrjghehfjejcjsjcjhdfh

-as much as i want him to be the most amazing perfect boyfriend ever

-i feel like that would take some time to develop in the relationship

-he is a younger sibling after all

-and while he's sweet and receptive and always remembers the smallest details of what you mentioned to him in passing

-he can also be stubborn and a bit clueless at times

-cut the man some slack it's his first relationship and he's trying his best

-between being captain of the silvermane guards and just... life in general, the man has never really had the opportunity to let loose or explore his feelings

-you two probably meet through serval. you work in her shop and one day gepard comes in because he needs something repaired and he sees you at the counter and that's it game over he's imagining your entire life together

-and like any older sibling would serval would very quickly figure out the blatant crush that gepard has on you and then teases the living hell out of him for it

-she keeps orchestrating little scenarios that end up with you and gepard in close proximity with each other

-and even though he's mad at his sister, he has to admit that it's nice to spend time with you

-but i think the final push is one night where serval manages to convince you and gepard to tag along with her to a new bar that has opened

-personally i hc that gepard is an absolute lightweight and the man cannot hold his tongue when he isn't sober

-and once the alcohol flush reaches his face it's game over

-serval ever so conveniently slips off to buy herself another drink

-which was five minutes ago, and she's nowhere in sight

-and gepard just starts talking to fill the gap

-and then he can't stop talking and oh he's confessed and then you're smiling and telling him you've been waiting for him to make a move

-and in the span of 5 minutes gepard's gone and got himself a significant other

-and YES now for the actual relationship hcs lmao 💀

-so YEAH

-gepard is head over heels whipped crazy for you

-but he's also emotionally constipated

-probably goes rigid if you hold his hand in public

-takes a while for him to get used to physical affection

-but once he does the man is all over u

-i think he likes to play with your fingers i think

-and then kiss them each individually

-and then lace his fingers with yours and hold it close to his chest

-and then stay like that as he drifts off to sleep next to you

-sob

-he's probably kinda goofy once he comes out of his shell

-like he probably talks to inanimate objects LMAO

-and he hums and sings under his breath ofc

-so it's really cute in the early mornings when he wakes up a bit before you have to, and he's moving around getting ready while still half asleep and your eyes are still closed but you can hear him humming a song he recently heard as he brushes his teeth

-AUGH

-i need him

-and then he will ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS drop back down next to you in bed before he has to go and do his guard duties

-and press the sweetest gentlest kiss to your forehead

-then your cheeks and nose and chin

-before finally your lips

-and he tells you to have a good day and that he loves you and he'll see you soon

-screaming rn i take it back he's perfect

𓆩♡𓆪 SAMPO

-DEF THE MOST FUN GUY TO DATE EVER

-super spontaneous for sure

-quick day trip to belobog with your boyfriend who's a wanted criminal ❤️

-idc if he's canonically a scammer this man will never lie to u (bc he's whipped as hell and he loves u ok)

-he uses the money from scamming ppl to buy gifts for you LMAO

-and even though the man has a silver tongue and he gets all melodramatic as part of his travelling salesman act

-when you're alone and in private his walls will come down and he'll just look at you with lovestruck eyes and tell you how beautiful or handsome you are with no games

-or just say nothing at all and bask in your presence

-i think he def needs someone who matches his energy

-like he's trying to sell someone a product and he shoots you a look and you come over and play the part of anither interested buyer to get them to buy it

-absolutely lethal duo

-and i feel like because he's so fun he would be really good with kids

-so if you ever need help babysitting a younger sibling or cousin

-he would be the #1 call for backup fr

-by the end of the night ur cousin likes HIM more than you (the audacity) and is calling him uncle sampo :((

-he would so tease you

-it's his love language <3

-but if you want to get back at him

-yk those slutty little cutouts he has in his shirt at the hip?

-yeah just tickle him there and he will fold immediately

-he probably has like this rlly ridiculous laugh that only cones out then or something

-and you're probably the only person who's ever heard it

-hmmm what else

-sampo probably has a bit of a possessive streak too

-tries to maintain his cool facade but someone else tries to flirt with you?

-his eye is twitching and he's by your side immediately, hand around your waist and a cold glare directed at whoever was dumb enough to try

-mans probably spoils you rotten LMAO

-would definitely pick a pretty flower every time he sees one to bring back and give to you

-you have a collection of pressed flowers from him at this point

-10/10 amazing boyfie <3

୨♡୧ honkai star rail masterlist

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strawberrystepmom · 1 year ago

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gojo and f!reader are in a semi established relationship aka idiots in love. mention of injury to reader and bruises from a mission (reader is a teacher), established friendship btw reader and nanami, slightly angsty and hurt/comfort. wc 1.6k

divider by my beloved @/cafekitsune

“Nanami told me that he thinks I’m vain today.”

Standing at Satoru’s side in your bathroom, the mirror still foggy from the shower the two of you just finished, you stop dabbing a cream around your eye under the assumption the fancy shit listed on the box will help brighten the appearance of the rapidly darkening bruise on your face.

You took a solo mission today, something that was meant to be small and quick while he took care of your students, and instead he ended up hauling you home after an afternoon spent in Shoko’s office getting the scrapes across your shoulder and neck looked at. You exorcized the curse but not without taking damage of your own.

Turning to look at the man who leans on the counter beside you, it’s hard not to sigh with a tinge of melancholy. The irony of him, in his near marble-like perfection, asking you, trying to stave off a black eye you should have just let Shoko fix instead of calling it a waste of her abilities, isn’t lost on you in the moment so you snort and shake your head, wiping your fingers on the soft towel next to you.

“I think we all are. I know for a fact Kento can be vain so maybe he shouldn’t give you too hard of a time.” Gojo chuckles and you smile in return, putting the jar down on the counter and looking up at him. “Why did he say that? What were you guys talking about?”

“You. That mission.”

His eyes flit to the darkness around your orbital socket, the yellow turning maroon turning purple, and he wrinkles his nose. The only reason it was brought up between the two men was out of concern for you, Nanami upset that you went on the mission alone to return injured, and the conversation became terse as soon as Satoru joked about your bruises.

“You’re so vain it would be admirable if it weren’t disgusting,” Nanami tutted at his colleague while swinging the door to Shoko’s exam room open to see you sitting with your legs swinging off of the edge of the examination table. They both gasped when you turned to look at them, eye swollen shut.

“What about me and the mission?” You mutter in the present, water droplets still covering your shoulders. It’s not news to you that your pseudo boyfriend and your best friend may discuss you on occasion but you bristle at anyone potentially questioning your ability to take care of yourself. It is one of the things the two men know about you with utmost certainty. “I handled it.”

Satoru chuckles and scrubs his hand over his face, raking his fingers through his still damp hair.

“You have a black eye that can’t be hidden no matter how much of that crap you dab on it and I healed a paper cut on myself an hour ago.”

Smiling, you lean and press your cheek into his bare arm and the cool skin feels nice against your sore and hot face. You idly twist the cap of your cream back and forth, looking at your reflections in the mirror in front of you, shocked by the stark difference in your own roughed up face and the near perfection standing next to you. You quickly look away and he notices, glancing down to watch your face twist into something he’s afraid will be upsetting if he thinks about it for more than a passing moment. Clearing your throat, you gaze back up at him but not in the mirror, putting your smile back into place.

“Do you think you heal yourself because of vanity, though? I think you do it just because you can.”

He tilts his head to the side and you move away from him slightly only to be pulled back against his side with his arm draping over your shoulders. Can’t get away so easily now and he shrugs.

“What else would it be?”

You wrap your arms around Satoru’s waist and gently run your fingernails along his side, light pink tracks left behind in your wake. He raises a brow and you hum, as if you’re a scientist taking notes about their experiment. A few beats pass and the scratches have turned into something deeper red and angry. You soothe the scratches with your fingertips and he stays still, pinned to where he’s standing by your touch.

“If you were vain you would have already healed those. It would take like one one thousandth of your power to do that.”

He laughs. It’s hard to argue your point when the scratches grow more red with every passing second. They don’t hurt, of course, and he keeps his Infinity off when you are near and he “ahh’s” to himself softly when he realizes where your line of thinking is carrying both of you. You smile and squeeze him.

“It isn’t about vanity, Satoru, it’s about untouchability. If there isn’t a visible scratch on you is it possible to even leave one?”

“You know better than anyone that it’s possible to leave one,” his eyes dart to the red covering his side that is slowly fading into pink and will soon be gone.

“Yeah, only because you want me to.”

You watch the marks disappear before your very eyes, still refusing to glance at your own reflection and witness how bad the bruise around the left one really is. Caffeine cream can’t fix this one.

“And how about you, tough guy? What about that thing?”

All you can do is shrug in response to his questions. Satoru brings his fingers to your face and gently traces the corner of your eye. It’s still a little tender and you hiss but he doesn’t move, cupping the side of your face in his large palm.

“Maybe I want people to think I’m untouchable too.”

“With a giant shiner?”

You laugh, shifting your face and pressing your nose into his side and his hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head.

“Being untouchable is different for both of us. People know you are and want to see it first hand so you can’t walk around with a bruise the size of a grapefruit.” He raises his eyebrows and nods, gaze still fixed on where you hide your face in his side. “I can and it’ll make everyone think I’m tough.”

“So tough you can’t even look at yourself?”

You scoff and unbury your face, looking up at him with a scowl. The bruise has darkened significantly and he resists the urge to reach out and touch it again, fascinated and horrified all at once that this happened to you to begin with. Maybe he should have gone with you. Maybe you need more training, to be better at keeping your guard up (something you are notoriously terrible at) or maybe it was just a slip of your attention while distracted by other things.

Sneaking a glance at yourself in the mirror, you can’t glance for more than a moment but whatever emotion it evokes you hide, swallowing thickly and half smiling up at your boyfriend.

“It’ll go away in a couple of days, you don’t have to worry about me.”

He hums, unconvinced of your words.

For Satoru, seeing the swollen flesh is a reminder of how vulnerable you are. It horrifies him how easily you can be hurt and how much worse things could have been and how he’s so out of touch with his own vulnerability at times that yours is something he joked about as if he hadn’t said goodbye to loved ones in Shoko’s exam room before.

“I will always worry about you no matter what,” he admits with a defeated sigh.

Turning his body so that he can envelop you in his arms and hold you against his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head. His arms feel gentle around you, full of careful affection, and you wrap your arms around his waist and drop the act for a few minutes.

“It was scary today,” you admit and he kisses your forehead again, his grip tightening.

“I know. I know it was and I’m sorry I wasn-“

You shush him with a sharp hiss and he looks down at you, wet hair flopping over his nose and eyes and dripping down into your face. This makes you laugh which in turn makes him do the same despite the seriousness of the moment and suddenly, things feel okay for both of you.

“Don’t apologize to me for that Satoru, I’m not your responsibility. I can handle myself even if I slip up sometimes.”

The laughter tapers off quickly with your words and he doesn’t speak for a moment for fear of saying the wrong thing. He knows you’re capable of a multitude of things but keeping you safe is his responsibility.

“I love you.”

Because he loves you. All he’s feeling right now can be summed up with those three words so he chooses to speak none additional, watching a smile spread across your face. You rise to your tiptoes to press your lips against his, fingers finding the base of his neck and resting there. The kisses are lazy and slow and precious, especially after the scare you had.

“Even with the giant shiner?”

Backing away from him, you smile and rest your chin between his pecs, arms still wrapped around his waist. He chuckles and cups your face in his big palms, gently kissing the skin at the edge of your bruise.

“Are you joking? Even more.”

You smile and gently massage the base of his spine with your thumbs, smoothing through the dimples that rest right above where the towel sits on his hips. Gojo smirks, chuckling to himself and pulling you closer to him until no space remains between your bodies. He reaches for your face and touches your warm skin with his thumb, shaking his head.

“I love you even more, baby.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #kendall writes

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maissafespace · 1 year ago

Text

Always There.

Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: what hasn’t he gone through, would be a good question. all that was bound to break him more than anything, people left, people died, but somehow he could still feel warmth in his heart. it was all because of you, you were always there and he was grateful for it.

warnings: fluff. close friends, intimacy, may/may not have slept together, suggestive, gojo being a flirt to not show feelings, reader is a year younger, canonverse after volume 0. light angst. gojo’s trauma, gojo bottling up, crying.

a/n: don’t really know where i was going with this, i don’t know if there will be a part two or something but i wanted some fluff with gojo, hope you like it! reblog and comment! t!p if you can XD.

Masterlist • Masterpost.

walking through the gardens surrounded by utmost silence would’ve been routine for you, relax without anyone annoying you, but, today of all days, your heart was heavy in your chest as you walked toward Satoru’s residence.

you had only come back to Tokyo today in the early morning and had been notified by Yaga of the events that occurred this last week.

noticeably, Suguru’s return.

you had remained shook at the everything that happened, Suguru’s new plans or former plans for the Jujutsu world. so much, that you could not go to Satoru right away, you had to clear your own mind before ever going to comfort him at all.

you greeted the workers with a small smile, making your way through the hallways and stairs till you were in front of his door and made your way in.

the whole room was dark even though it was late afternoon, a few rays of light got through, brightening the little it could, enough for you to see the silhouette of his body on the bed, lying with an arm over his face, his bare chest going up and down with his breathing and legs crouched with a pair of sweatpants on.

you sighed, taking the dark blue uniform off you and throwing it on the couch on the other side of the room, leaving you in your panties and a t-shirt.

“satoruuu…” you called him softly and calmly, climbing on the other side of the bed, sitting on your knees beside him. your hand poking his side waiting for a reaction. “satoru.” but nothing.

a bit annoyed you made the move. with another sigh, your hands sat on his chest, throwing your leg on the other side of his waist. you saw immediately that stupid grin on his face with his free hand going on your thigh in a millisecond.

“this is a good feeling.” he said with a chuckle. “heard you got back today from some lost place in South Africa, i’m offended you didn’t come to greet me first thing, babe.”

“right, can we go right to the point, honey.” you got his arm off his face but his eyes were still closed. “maybe you could look at me to start off.”

he breathed deeply, the amusement falling off for a second into numbness, he opened them, looking to the side for a moment before looking at you. you smiled sadly at the single glance to his beautiful light blue eyes. a pair that held so much behind them, feelings that he didn’t show easily.

“do you want to talk?” you asked him softly, your thumb brushing the side of his cheek, along his jawline.

“there’s something more productive i’d like to do. you, for example.” his fingers were playing with the elastic band of your panties.

“and they say romance is dead.” his light laugh and snort made a faint smile on your face appear. “if that were true, i’d feel you poking into me then i’d reject you as i’ve done before. but that’s not the case.”

“i mean, it doesn’t really take a lot…” his finger was going to the front of your panties, bringing them down till your own hand brought him out of them, back onto your waist. “we both need it, y/n, a nice distraction and consolation.” he sighed.

“i’ll consider it if we talk first. come on, we have done this before, satoru.” you were trying to be patient, keyword is trying, but that’s all, you have been through this countless times already, you knew the flirting and cute words were just to distract you from the purpose, though he knew you were not a flatterer.

“have i told you how pretty you look today?” he said with his hand lightly stroking your chin. you smiled, kissing the tip of his fingers.

“i love to hear such things from a handsome man.” you leaned down on him, chest to chest, your forearms keeping you up enough to still face him. “but we still need to talk. now you’re trapped, so start talking before we stay for days on this bed.”

“what about your trip? tell me about it? was the special grade curse as bad as people were making it out to be?” you sighed. you cupped his cheeks fully, inches away from his face. looking directly into his eyes, your heart beating fast at the way you would break the ice so abruptly.

“‘toru, tell me what happened with Suguru.” you asked.

you felt the way his chest stopped their movement for a second, you saw how his breath hitched and his eyes widened quickly. yet, no response came, you were just looking at him continuously, to the point where you didn’t realize how your positions changed.

he was on top of you, your legs wrapped around him as he breathed heavily. “satoru… i’m here. i’ve always been here.” you reminded him, trying to give him some faith and trust in yourself.

he collapsed gently, his head on your chest, his big figure sprawled on top of you and between your legs.

your hand brushing through his hair gently, rubbing his scalp and nape like a feather as he took his time.

“he’s gone.”

you hummed at his choked tone of voice. his shoulders were slightly trembling, then the sniffling started and then you felt your t-shirt dampening of his tears.

you just held him as he cried.

nobody was unaware of the relationship they had when they were young and in school, they had a friendship like no others, they were friends, brothers, family, maybe soulmates. you had just come in accidentally, being a year younger gave you all the time to admire your superiors, just one day you had found him wondering around alone, sighing.

sighing was a bad indicator for anything. you approached him and till now you had become something similar to a diary or a therapist, perhaps.

he told you the place each person had in his life, suguru was something like the sun in the hell of a childhood he lived, he was an anchor of life for him. when he left, it was visible how his life seemed to have been sucked out of him, you hated to see him like that. he slowly recovered from it but it was never the same, the walls were built.

it was worse the first months, he wouldn’t talk about it, he wouldn’t utter a word, he put on an act, then he’d get annoyed, then he’d try to run and make you leave, yell even, till you pressed and finally he opened up. he cried then too, he let his vulnerable side out in the world with you and you cried with him the first time. but now it was different.

you were in no way trying to involve yourself, or understand what he was going through, even though you did, since you had lost Yu after all, but right then it wasn’t your job to play who had it worse or make it about you, it was a moment of “let it out, before it consumes you.”

his body was calming down after some time.

his arms were even tighter around your torso, his body growing in heat, letting you reach around you to drop a blanket over the both of you before he got sick.

he cleared his throat, his voice still hoarse but he started to tell you in detail everything that had happened while you were away. you hummed here and there, asking a few questions as well, still rubbing your hands on his back and shoulders, seemingly comforting him.

“so up till now, you have not eaten a single thing.” you asked. “that’s not good, satoru, come on, we got to get out of bed.” you patted him, he whined in response.

“i disagree with that notion. we can cuddle and snuggle, maybe have some great sex-“

“see, no.” you tried to pull him off you but he didn’t let go. “i have a date tonight, but i need you up on your feet before i go, because if we wait you’ll be rotting tomorrow. wait!” in a moment and costing your neck, you were up, straddling his lap. as he looked up with a frown.

“what do you mean date? we have never agreed to this.” he really looked incredulous.

“you didn’t. i did. life is continuing outside the Jujustu world, my dear friend.” you slapped his cheek softly. “get up, you are having dinner right now.” you got out of his arms and out of bed, reaching for the couch as you put your pants back on. you turned on the lights and looked at him, his hand was ruffling his own hair while he still sat on the edge of the bed.

“satoru?” you called him. you walked back to him, taking his hands from his knees and have him stand up. “let’s go.”

you guided him slowly, he just complied, he followed after you, looking down at the your intertwined hands.

he looked at you as you talked friendly to the maid, asking her to please cook a little something in big portions to feed him for the days he had not eaten, and once everything was prepared he wanted to laugh at all the food laid out in front of him but you sat there with your arms crossed, looking at him intensely.

he just complied. starting to eat as you watched with a small smile, sometimes it fell into sadness to then turn into fondness.

it was dark outside by the time he was done. he laid back on his back with his legs still under the table, breathing heavily waiting for his stomach to do its job. “that was too much.” he muttered.

“now, you’ll think twice about starving yourself. i’m turning into a granny by worrying for you.” you said getting up, ready to get out of here and into the world.

“i’ll need you even if you’d turn into a granny. you’d be a hot granny.” you chuckled, reaching his side, receiving the invite of his hand reaching for you. you sat down with him one last time. looking directly into each other, his lips formed a weak smile, guiding his hand with yours in it to his lips and kissing it lightly.

he wanted to grin at the slight blush on your cheeks, but he refrained from doing that. “thank you.” you smiled genuinely at his words. “thank you for always being there for me. i haven’t been the best for you, but you’re always here. so, thank you.”

the smile on your face widened, your eyes almost completely invisible by it. “love to hear it.”

there was a moment of silence before the maids started to come in and the shiny atmosphere was disrupted. “i have to go now. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“all right, see you later, y/n.”

he sat up, watching you walk away and out of his residence with a big smile while he sighed and stood to walk back to his room.

he stood under the hot water, thinking. and thinking. and thinking more.

shit ending i know, but i didn’t have the inspiration for the conclusion. not my best work.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo angst #gojo satoru angst

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estapa-edwards · 6 months ago

Note

"Team Sweetheart" and "Physical Therapist" are so gorgeous I've reread them both like 10 times! They leave me so full of butterflies I am positively buzzing! May I please make a request with Jack and a girl who has no knowledge/familiarity with hockey, or any sports for that matter? Maybe just them introducing eachother to their interests/worlds as their relationship develops and it's just nice to be with someone a bit removed from what Jack's life is centered around. Idk if that makes sense please ignore this if you don't like it.

CONNECTION - J . HUGHES

paring: Jack Hughes x reader

word count: 2k

requested? yes

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Jack Hughes walked into the quiet café, eager for a break from the relentless pace of his hockey-centered life. The New Jersey Devils had been having a grueling season, and every moment off the ice felt like a precious escape. The café, tucked away in a corner of downtown Newark, had become his haven. Today, however, he was greeted by an unfamiliar face behind the counter.

“Hi, welcome to Brewed Awakening. What can I get you?” the girl asked with a warm smile. Her name tag read "Y/N."

Jack glanced at the menu, though he already knew what he wanted. “I’ll have a black coffee, please.”

Y/N nodded, her fingers flying over the buttons of the register. “Coming right up. Are you from around here?”

Jack hesitated. Despite his growing fame, he still enjoyed the anonymity of casual encounters. “Yeah, I live nearby. What about you?”

Y/N handed him his change and started preparing his coffee. “I just moved here for school. Trying to get the hang of the city and all.”

Jack smiled. “It’s a great place once you get to know it. What are you studying?”

“Art history. I know, it’s not exactly the most practical major, but it’s my passion,” she said with a slight laugh. “What about you? What do you do?”

Jack paused, unsure of how to respond. “I’m... in sports,” he said vaguely.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his hesitation. “Any particular sport?”

“Hockey,” he admitted. “I play for the New Jersey Devils.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, wow. I’m sorry, I don’t really follow sports. But that sounds impressive!”

Jack chuckled. “That’s okay. It’s actually kind of refreshing to meet someone who isn’t obsessed with hockey.”

Y/N handed him his coffee. “Well, I’m glad I could provide a break from the norm. Enjoy your coffee!”

As Jack took a seat by the window, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity about Y/N. She was different from anyone he had met in a long time. He found himself looking forward to his next visit to the café.

--- --- ---

Over the next few weeks, Jack found himself returning to Brewed Awakening more often. Each time, he and Y/N would chat for a few minutes, their conversations growing more personal with each encounter. Jack learned that Y/N was passionate about art, spending her weekends exploring museums and galleries. She, in turn, learned about Jack’s rigorous training schedule and the pressures of professional sports.

One rainy afternoon, Jack entered the café, drenched from practice. Y/N greeted him with a sympathetic smile. “Rough day?”

“Just a long one,” he replied, shaking off his wet jacket. “Do you have a break coming up? I’d love to hear more about this art thing you’re always talking about.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Actually, I do. Give me five minutes to finish up here.”

A few minutes later, Y/N joined Jack at his table, a steaming cup of tea in her hands. “So, where should I start?”

“Tell me about your favorite artist,” Jack suggested, genuinely curious.

Y/N’s face brightened. “That’s a tough one, but I’d have to say Vincent van Gogh. His work is so emotional and raw. There’s something incredibly moving about the way he saw the world.”

Jack listened intently as Y/N described van Gogh’s turbulent life and vibrant paintings. He found himself captivated by her passion and the way she brought the art to life with her words.

“You should come to the museum with me sometime,” Y/N said, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I think you’d really enjoy it.”

Jack smiled. “I’d like that. And maybe I can take you to a hockey game in return?”

Y/N laughed. “Deal. But you’ll have to explain everything to me. I know absolutely nothing about hockey.”

Jack chuckled. “I think I can manage that.”

--- --- ---

Their first outing together was to the Newark Museum of Art. Jack was out of his element but excited to see the world through Y/N’s eyes. As they wandered through the galleries, Y/N explained the stories behind the paintings and sculptures, her voice filled with excitement and admiration.

“This is one of my favorites,” she said, stopping in front of a large, colorful painting. “It’s called ‘Starry Night Over the Rhône’ by van Gogh. Look at the way the stars and the reflections in the water create this almost dreamlike scene.”

Jack stared at the painting, trying to see it the way Y/N did. “It’s beautiful,” he said finally. “I can see why you like it so much.”

Y/N smiled. “I’m glad you think so. Art has always been a way for me to escape, to see the world differently.”

Jack nodded, understanding more than he expected. “Hockey is like that for me. When I’m on the ice, everything else fades away.”

A few days later, it was Y/N’s turn to step into Jack’s world. She had agreed to attend one of his games, despite her lack of knowledge about hockey. Jack had arranged for her to have a prime seat, and as she settled in, she couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.

The arena was buzzing with energy, fans cheering and waving signs. Y/N watched in awe as the players took to the ice, their speed and skill mesmerizing. She spotted Jack, his focus intense as he prepared for the game.

Throughout the match, Y/N found herself on the edge of her seat, cheering along with the crowd even though she didn’t fully understand the rules. She couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride every time Jack made a play, his talent and dedication evident in every move.

After the game, Jack met her outside the locker room, still in his gear and grinning from ear to ear. “So, what did you think?”

“It was amazing!” Y/N exclaimed. “I had no idea hockey could be so intense. You were incredible out there.”

Jack laughed, relieved that she had enjoyed herself. “I’m glad you liked it. Maybe we can make a fan out of you yet.”

Y/N smiled. “Maybe. But only if you keep coming to art galleries with me.”

“Deal,” Jack agreed, feeling a warmth spread through him. Despite their different worlds, he felt a connection with Y/N that he hadn’t felt with anyone else.

--- --- ---

As the weeks turned into months, Jack and Y/N grew closer, finding comfort in their contrasting interests. They delighted in introducing each other to new experiences, each outing deepening their bond.

One sunny Saturday, Jack found himself at a local art supply store with Y/N. She was on a mission to find the perfect set of watercolors for a new project. Jack followed her through the aisles, amused by her enthusiasm.

"Do you paint?" Jack asked, curious.

"I dabble," Y/N replied with a grin. "Mostly for fun, though. It’s a great way to relax and let my mind wander."

Jack picked up a brush, twirling it between his fingers. "Maybe you could teach me sometime. I’ve never really done anything like this."

Y/N’s eyes lit up. "I’d love to! It’s really not about being perfect, just about expressing yourself."

A few days later, Y/N set up a makeshift studio in her apartment, covering the table with newspapers and setting out a variety of paints and brushes. Jack arrived, looking both excited and apprehensive.

"Ready to become the next Van Gogh?" Y/N teased, handing him a canvas.

Jack laughed. "I think that might be a stretch, but I’m ready to give it a shot."

As they painted side by side, Y/N offered gentle guidance, encouraging Jack to experiment with colors and shapes. Despite his initial uncertainty, Jack found himself enjoying the process. It was a welcome change from the structured, high-pressure world of hockey.

"You’re a natural," Y/N said, admiring Jack’s painting of a snowy landscape.

Jack shook his head with a chuckle. "I think you’re just being nice, but thanks. This is actually really fun."

Y/N smiled, pleased to see Jack so relaxed. "See? I knew you’d enjoy it."

Their relationship continued to flourish, each new experience bringing them closer together. Jack took Y/N to more games, patiently explaining the rules and strategies. Y/N, in turn, took Jack to more art exhibits and even a few art classes.

One evening, after a particularly thrilling game, Jack and Y/N found themselves at a quiet diner, sharing a plate of fries. Jack looked at Y/N, feeling a surge of gratitude.

"You know, I never thought I’d enjoy learning about art so much," Jack admitted. "But being with you has opened my eyes to so many new things."

Y/N reached across the table, squeezing his hand. "And I never thought I’d enjoy sports, but you’ve made it so much fun. It’s nice to have someone to share these experiences with."

Jack smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Despite their different backgrounds, they had found a way to connect on a profound level. It was a rare and precious thing, and Jack knew he wanted to hold onto it.

--- --- ---

As their relationship grew stronger, Jack and Y/N began to face the challenges that came with their differing worlds. Jack’s demanding schedule often kept them apart, and Y/N’s art exhibitions sometimes took her to different cities.

One evening, after a particularly grueling week of practice and games, Jack called Y/N, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "I miss you," he admitted. "It feels like we haven’t seen each other in ages."

Y/N sighed, feeling the distance keenly. "I miss you too. It’s hard, but we’ll get through it. How about we plan something special for next weekend? Just us."

Jack’s spirits lifted at the thought. "That sounds perfect. Let’s go somewhere quiet, away from everything."

The following weekend, they escaped to a cabin in the woods, a peaceful retreat where they could unwind and reconnect. They spent their days hiking through the forest, cooking meals together, and sitting by the fire, talking about everything and nothing.

One evening, as they sat on the porch, watching the sunset, Jack took Y/N’s hand. "I’m really glad we’re doing this," he said softly. "It’s exactly what I needed."

Y/N rested her head on his shoulder. "Me too. It’s nice to just be us, without all the noise."

As they sat in comfortable silence, Jack realized how much Y/N meant to him. She had become his anchor, a source of joy and calm in his hectic life. He knew their relationship wasn’t always easy, but he was willing to face any challenge as long as they were together.

With the hockey season winding down, Jack finally had more time to spend with Y/N. They began to talk about their future, their conversations filled with excitement and hope.

One sunny afternoon, they found themselves at a local park, lying on a blanket and watching the clouds drift by. Jack turned to Y/N, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Have you ever thought about what comes next for us?" he asked.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection. "I think about it all the time. I want us to keep exploring new things together, to keep supporting each other’s passions."

Jack nodded, feeling a sense of certainty. "I want that too. And I want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what. Your dreams are just as important as mine."

Y/N reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Jack’s face. "And I’m here for you, always. We’ll figure it out together."

As they lay there, hand in hand, Jack knew they were embarking on a new chapter of their lives. It wouldn’t always be easy, but with Y/N by his side, he felt ready for anything. They had built a strong foundation, one based on mutual respect and a genuine love for each other’s worlds. And as they looked towards the future, they knew that together, they could face whatever came their way.

#hockey #nhl x reader #new jersey devils #nj devils #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes blurb

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yoonia · 3 months ago

Text

the bedroom hymns ● chapter xxiii

⟶ Chapter summary | He may not be the Prince Charming written in fairy tales, but in your eyes, he seems perfectly yours. Even with many secrets lying between you, a part of you insists to put faith in him, to trust him, even with your secrets. Besides, there is a good reason why fate answered your prayers by allowing you to meet him again, shouldn’t it?

chapter xxiii. serendipity-3

The sun has finally gone out. The bright sky is now painted in vibrant colours of blue, faded teal, and purple as dusk slowly melts into night. Up above, the stars are beginning to show their presence, looking like pixie dust spreading into the night.

Once the pixies welcomed Yoongi into their circle, he was sat down by the curious pixies to endure the same questioning as you had.

“Where did you come from?”

“How did you cross the border?”

“Is that a real sword? Is it heavy? Have you ever hurt anyone with it? Have you ever hurt yourself?”

“Your hair is so soft. What did you put in it?”

You had to hold back a smile while he went through it, yet your own curiosity rose when Yoongi visibly tensed and surprised when he heard Illyn asking, “Did you also walk past the fairy portal in the woods?”

It didn’t take long for the pixies to lose interest in Yoongi, however, as fireflies began to come out of their hiding once it grew dark and caught their attention. Seems like they have yet to run out of energy, even after playing the whole day and the entire afternoon, as they are now busy chasing the fireflies and slipping between the thickening white mist rising around the riverbank. The sound of their joyful giggles echoes through the evening as you join Yoongi on a stroll along the length of the river, spending the last hour that you have left before you have to run home.

The thought of having to say goodbye when you barely have enough time to share with Yoongi saddens you. Yet you try to make the best of it. You don’t even resist when Yoongi insists on holding your hand when he helps you jump across a small puddle, and you say nothing when he still keeps your hand in his as you slowly make your way back towards the elven town.

“It feels really peaceful here, doesn’t it?” you muse with a sigh as you look up beyond the canopy of leaves above your head, marvelling at the colours showing in the sky—colours you wouldn’t normally see back home—and the sparkle of stars now filling the sky.

Far ahead of you, just beyond the tree line, the elven town lights up. Golden lights emerge through the open windows, lanterns hanging from the houses and on the small roads illuminate the rest of the town, and each sparkle of light is reflected on the waterfall that gleams brighter in the night.

“Aren’t you afraid of the dark?” Yoongi asks, almost teasingly, “There is barely any light here, under the trees, and starlight can’t really reach us once we get deeper into the woods.”

You glance around, seeing the contrasting sight of the dark forest filled with nothing but unmoving shadows against the brightening town. Before, it would have been daunting for you to travel into these woods, when the only colours you’d see are the white mist crawling on the ground and the fog forming from your breath. But after the chilling darkness and the daunting sights you find during your previous trips, this kind of darkness doesn’t incite any uneasiness rushing through your skin.

The cold breeze doesn’t make you shiver. The cricket sounds echoing from the riverbanks, the faint night birdsong, and the echoes of the giggling and humming sounds of the pixies only give you a sense of calmness. Yoongi’s gentle hold on your hand and his warm presence make you feel secure enough to stare into the darkness and walk through it.

“No, I’m not afraid,” you simply answer him with a smile. “Compared to where I’ve been lately, this place feels more like heaven. And what should I worry about when I have you here with me?”

Yoongi lowers his eyes as he draws his bottom lip between his teeth. “Have you missed me while I was gone?”

“No. Not really,” the lie easily slips out of your lips, and the corners of his lips rise to a smile.

A deep chuckle escapes him, causing your heartbeat to trip. Air slowly leaves your lungs as he gently opens his eyes, showing you the deep gaze which haunts your thoughts whether you are in slumber or when you are awake. “You look pretty even when you lie,” he whispers with a low voice.

Turning away from him, you take a deep, long breath. You have no idea if the heat rising on your cheeks came from his words or the way he is looking at you. “You always speak as you please.”

“Yet I’m not the one who is lying,” he replies, and you can almost hear his smile before your eyes find him again. “That’s me saying that I don’t believe you. Not for one second.”

Your cheeks are flushed, his words become a spell that makes your heart race and your hope bloom like wildflowers. And then the feeling is made worse when you turn to face Yoongi, capturing the deep longing in his gaze which mirrors yours perfectly that your words begin to spill out. “And if I tell you that I missed you, what would you do?”

His chest rises with a sharp breath. The intense look in his gaze makes it hard for you to breathe and you cannot understand why. “I will cherish it,” he says, his voice sounding firm and sure that you find no reason to be doubtful. “The thought of you thinking about me in my absence brings me joy like no other.”

Your throat feels dry. Your heart feels like it is about to jump out of your chest the first chance it gets.

“Always so charming with your words.”

A ghost of a smile appears on his face, and then it is gone. “Yet none of it is a lie.”

“I believe you,” you whisper with a sigh, and you mean it. because you can see it—you can feel it—simply by looking into his eyes. For a moment, you find it hard to look away. You despise ever thinking about having to look at other things but his face, to even look away from his eyes that are sometimes more honest than his words.

But then the sound of wild giggles seems to be coming closer, the fluttering movements of the pixies entering the trees break the spell forming between you, and Yoongi is the one to give in first with a smile.

“Now, shall we enjoy the rest of the evening? Maybe see what they are up to now before I send you home?”

Home.

The thought of having to walk away from this place, from him, is eating you from the inside. Yet you try to push it down, silently hoping—praying—that this wouldn’t be the last evening that you would be spending with him.

“All right. Lead the way.”

Yoongi is left astonished at what is happening at this moment.

Right before his eyes, the pixies are dancing and singing together, giving the two of you a show in an opening they found in the middle of the forest. Here, the moonlight is shining brightly from above, as if creating a special stage for them to perform their little celebration. And you are standing right beside him, enjoying this view together with him, with your hand entwined with his and shoulder brushing against his as you gently sway to the song the pixies are singing.

He secretly steals a glance at your face without you realising it. He wants to commit this moment to his memory; the look of awe on your face as you watch the pixies dancing before you; your eyes that are glowing with amusement and pure joy; the delicate way your fingers seem to sink into his palm, as if they belong there.

For the first time after quite some time, Yoongi feels at ease. Perhaps being with you helps, feeling your presence nearby and the touch of your hand in his becoming his anchor.

For the past week, he felt as if his life was going out of control. But with you, he feels like everything is slowly falling into place, and he simply wants to hold on to everything before it slips away from his hold.

Smiling, Yoongi turns his attention back to the pixies. The song they are singing seems to rouse a peculiar sensation within him. It fills him with joy and—amusingly—raw pleasure that he had only ever felt from drinking the strongest ales created by the hands of the moon fairies of Emburn.

He shouldn’t be surprised to feel this kind of sensation simply by listening to the pixies’ tune. He has learned quite a lot about pixies after his previous journeys and his various close encounters with beings of their kind. Many may not have known this, but their magic dust isn’t the only thing that is special about the pixies. The song they sing, the tune and the words they hum, are said to be magical, acting like a spell to incite various sensations within other beings—mostly humans, as they are the most vulnerable beings against magic.

As he continues to watch their performance and feels as if he is no longer carrying unwanted weight on his shoulders, his troubles forgotten and feeling only hope blooming in his chest, Yoongi wonders if the song that they are singing is the kind of spell that only brings joy. The kind that often causes dream-like experiences for other beings like himself, and others like you.

Needing this escape, Yoongi allows himself to relish this feeling for a moment longer, to enjoy this moment with you, before he begins worrying about other matters.

One of which is trying to make things right with you, when his lack of presence as of late may have placed him a few steps behind from what he wanted to achieve by following you through the portals. All he wanted was to become closer, not to feel as if you were a world apart from him even when you are right beside him.

He wanted to win your trust, and perhaps one day, he can win your heart. But how would he be able to do so if he kept missing from your life whenever you needed him?

“Forgive me for not being able to join you during your previous trips. I had somewhere else to be, and not one of my excursions ever led me to your path.” Yoongi says as he walks beside you, continuing your stroll along the river once he can sense that your time here is slowly coming to an end.

You and Yoongi have left the pixies behind you, still enjoying their time partying in the forest with more and more other pixies joining in to form a bigger circle. The last time Yoongi turned to glance over his shoulder, the pixies’ dancing had become so intense that he began seeing golden dust sparkling all around them, their rapid dancing and the spells they were singing brought together magic pixie dust to illuminate the forest around them.

Those pixie dust have now scattered all over the gravelled pathway before him, as the wined pixie kept floating across to drop the magical dust to help light up the way, allowing the two of you to see clearly through the darkening woods.

Muted golden glow from the magic dust spreads all around him, the lights reflecting perfectly on your face that Yoongi cannot look away. In his eyes, you look as if you are walking among the stars, up there in the night sky, and he is floating with you like a shadow, protecting you from the night.

He has pictured this moment many times before, when he was walking down the royal garden or through the halls within the Imperial Palace, wishing that you were by his side. Wishing that he was spending time with you instead of with the bratty princess who was more than happy to play along with the Empress’ ploy in keeping him back home. Now that this is finally happening, it seems hard for his mind to accept that this is his reality and not just a figment of his imagination, his wishful thinking playing tricks on him to make him believe that this is real.

“I—wasn’t sure if I’d ever get to see you today, to be honest,” Yoongi painfully admits, while recalling how hard it was for him to escape from the palace today.

It was his own fault for getting him in such a situation, after all.

He shouldn’t have traded the dance that he wanted so badly to avoid with a promise. A promise that he regretted the moment he stepped into the royal garden, when he realised too late that he had made a deal with the wrong force.

What Yoongi had imagined to be a swift affair, a simple afternoon tea to appease the royal brat of a princess where all he had to do was sit and act nice while she gushed and gossiped about life within the empire, had turned out to be everything that was not.

The entire encounter had instead turned mostly peculiar.

Princess Celestyna has always worn the facade of a coy and almost naive and child-like, just like any other sheltered and spoiled princess he has ever met. But this afternoon, as she sat at the table set up for their little ‘date’, the princess had shed her entire facade and worn a new persona. Her presence emitted arrogance and an eerie calmness that made him feel uneasy. He was just about to call everything off when the princess dropped a bomb on him.

“I know that this is the last place you would rather be, Your Highness,” she said to him between taking dainty sips of her tea, with a gaze that carried a peculiar look to which Yoongi felt cautious. But then his blood ran cold when she added, “Do you know the real reason why I followed my father to visit your empire and meet the Empress? You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The air is changing. You cannot tell me you have no idea what, or who is causing it.”

Realisation dawned in Yoongi back then, just as everything that he noticed about the realm upon his return came back to him; the turbulence he felt welcoming him home in waves; the stillness in the air; and the imbalance of magic.

Before Yoongi could process things further, or inquire the princess about the secrets that she seemed to be offering him, he felt the ripple of magic rising at the back of his mind. It was subtle enough so that he knew he would be the only one who could feel it, and he immediately knew that it was the moment you stepped into a portal.

Yoongi was caught between staying, accepting the princess’s olive branch, and the fear of losing the chance to see you again, so for a moment, he nearly faltered. But his wish to see you again prevailed. He felt your presence calling for him, pulling at his soul, and it gave him the willpower to walk away and race through the portal to catch up with you.

“You won’t be able to keep running, Your Highness,” the princess called out to him just as Yoongi began to walk away, “You can try to avoid me as much as you want to or deny what must happen for as long as you can, but you must know that you won’t be able to change anything.”

Yoongi shakes his head, shaking away the memory of the unpleasant encounter from his mind. He hates that even now, when he is supposed to be enjoying his time with you, that second princess of the Kosha Empire still dares to invade his mind—just like how she has been trying to invade his entire life.

“It wasn’t easy, and I debated if I should risk making this trip at the last minute, when I still had my duties ahead of me,” he says with a grim smile on his face as the memory of Princess Celestyna’s cunning smile comes and goes. “But in the end, I am glad that I chose to listen to my gut and risk everything for a chance to see you again.”

The smile that you give him alleviates his guilt. Only slightly.

But it is still the same smile that he has been longing to see. So much so that he has been seeing it in his dreams that he suddenly feels the urge to pinch himself just to make sure that this isn’t another dream, taunting him with your presence only to take you away from him so soon.

“And here you are, right when I was just wondering if I should walk away sooner than planned,” you respond to him, much to his relief. A part of him was expecting to see your growing distrust of him, and yet your words hold no adversity in them that it makes him feel almost undeserving of your kindness.

“I am beginning to believe this matter of fate that you spoke of so often, seeing that you were able to find me despite how busy you’ve been.” A soft chuckle slips out of your lips. “I’m amazed that you managed to find me at all.”

Pain pierces through him as he returns your smile. He feels bitter about the fact that he had been the one who spoke of fate intertwining your lives together and yet has become the one defying fate itself. He cannot stop feeling as if he has failed you, and he knows that this feeling will continue to haunt him each time he remembers the disappointed look in your eyes looking back at him.

And he knows that he will disappoint you further by not being able to share his secrets, even if only to answer your curiosity.

“Is it another mercenary work that’s been keeping you away?” you innocently question him, and Yoongi can only bite back his tongue. In a way, it wouldn’t be too off the mark, since he did use his mercenary work as an excuse to stay out of the imperial palace from time to time, or when he needed a break from the Empress’ plot of keeping him close to their royal guests.

It was safer for him to use the mercenary army as an excuse rather than using the magic portals, with the chances of having the Empress planting an eye around him.

“Perhaps,” he sighs, “you can say that.” He hates not being able to tell you the truth, but he also has no way of confessing that his lack of presence in your expeditions has been caused by another. With a tight smile on his face, Yoongi turns to ask you, “Have you been travelling well lately?”

For a moment, you look quite reluctant to answer. At first, Yoongi simply takes it as your hesitance about sharing the secrets behind the magic that you are using. But instead, you choose to share something completely unexpected.

“Not that much, actually. I have been—unwell,” you slowly admit. “After the last time we met in Grimm, I was left bedridden for quite a while.”

His brows rise. “How so?” he asks, feeling uneasy.

Pressing your lips together, you shrug at him. “It seems that I have been using up my mana due to my travelling.”

“Do you mean to say that your means of travel has been draining your mana?” Yoongi asks. His surprise almost caused him to make a slip-up, to show you that he knows by which way you have been travelling to different places.

Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice it as you continue walking. “It may seem so”—a touch of a smile flickers on your face—”although it is just a personal assumption that I made up, seeing that it happened after I came back from travelling.” You stop for a moment, thinking. “Actually, now that I think about it, this kind of exhaustion only happened when I went across to places within Far Far Away.”

Yoongi falls silent as he ponders over this. He cannot figure out why the same magic that empowers him—and one that he has learned to understand and control since he was just a young boy—would be reacting differently towards you. While this explains the reason behind your recent absence, he cannot say that he takes any pleasure in knowing.

Perhaps it would have been better to hear that you had encountered something else getting in the way of you using the portals. Anything else but having your well-being and your safety having been compromised to be the reason for it.

“You never felt the same when you were travelling back to Smotia?”

You consider it for a moment before shaking your head. “Hmmm, I don’t recall that I have. I always felt tired, but it wasn’t as bad as it has been lately.” You stop, furrowing your brows, before turning to him. “Do you think—”

“What?”

Gnawing your lips, you shake your head gently before sharing your thoughts. “It’s just something that I thought of,” you begin to say, still hesitant. “What if, the—magic that I’m using to travel is feeding off my mana?” You turn to him. “Can something like that happen?”

“You mean, it’s using your mana like fuel?” Yoongi asks, raising his brows.

You slowly nod. “Like what oil does to a lamp, or food to humans.”

Humming to himself, Yoongi recalls everything that he has learned about the magic portals. To think of any possible side effects or the possibility of it not taking its powers from the moon—as expected of these types of portals—but from its user instead. Yet he comes up with nothing. Because nothing similar to this has ever happened. Not to him, and certainly not to the Emperor, who used to travel merely through the portals to deal with the empire’s business.

But the truth is, he simply never heard of it.

A random thought suddenly crosses Yoongi’s mind just then.

“In theory, it can happen,” he cautiously says, just as he remembers something that he once learned about magic.

Any form of magic requires a price. A sacrifice is needed to be made to pay for any magic that is pulled out of the realm, used and cast by whoever is summoning them. For the type of magic as strong as the fairy portals, a sacrifice must be made. The Ancient moon fairies, however, had found a way to resolve this.

By borrowing power from the moon, the fairies obtaining the skill to create, open, and use the portals would no longer need to sacrifice a thing. Only to then repay all the powers lent to them by the moon by celebrating the rites during the Runea Luna Eve. This is how it’s been done for centuries, until Yoongi was given the keys to the magic portals.

But could this really be the reason?

Yoongi wonders as he looks at you. Since you are not a fairy such as himself, nor you were born with a fairy blood or a direct connection to the moon, using the magic which belonged to his kind may require you to pay for it with something else. Something valuable.

Your mana. A piece of your heart. Your—lifespan.

Yoongi fists his hands by his side. “Have you talked about this with anyone else?”

“Well, yes.” The crease between your brows deepens, and then you mutter, “Okay, maybe not.” A beat of silence passes, before you correct yourself, “Not really.”

Yoongi says nothing, only that he knows now that you have yet to share your secret with anyone else. No one knows about her using the portals, he muses, surprised with what he just learned. He shouldn’t feel relieved about it, since that only means that you have no one by your side to guide you through it.

But if you still have nobody to talk to about this, if you are still keeping this a secret, then this means he can use this to strengthen the bond he has with you. To gain your trust that has become so fragile from his own doing.

Cocking your head, you innocently ask him, “What are you thinking?”

Yoongi grabs your hand instead of answering directly. He still has to work on finding out the truth about this side-effect before slowly revealing the truth about the portal—that he knows more about it than he is letting on, and that he and his family are the ones behind it. He needs to make sure that you trust him enough before he can.

Because revealing the origin of the portal you are using might risk him losing your trust. It might risk him losing the only link he has to the Wicked King.

“I’m just wondering,” he says, as he begins rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, drawing shivers through your skin, “you mentioned before that this is all new for you. That you are still getting used to your new life in Far Far Away.”

He stops to wait until you respond with a nod before he continues, “Even without having to use magic, travelling within this realm itself can be draining, and you still can’t fully access your magic to begin with.” Looking down at the ground covered in pixie dust, Yoongi points at the glowing lights. “Take a look at how the scattered magic dust is covering the dark, hard ground beneath. Look at it as the realm we are standing in.”

You turn to look at the sparkling magic dust and keep your eyes on it while Yoongi keeps speaking, “There are layers and layers of mana in this realm which—depending on which part of the land you are—may require different levels of mana within yourself to withstand it. For you to be able to ride the energy flow that is present all around you when you are stepping into a new territory.”

Yoongi smiles as he senses you growing more at ease, and that you seem to understand what he is trying to say. “With your magic still restrained, you haven’t been able to put your raw mana to use. At the very least, not in its full potential.”

Your gaze finds his after hearing this, which encourages Yoongi to continue, “So it’s quite possible that your body was weakened due to the insufficient amount of mana you had to boost the power of the magic. And it if had instead begun to feed on your life energy, that might explain why you experience fatigue and why it took longer for your mana to recover.”

An understanding look fills your eyes. “That would make sense,” you mutter softly, and Yoongi can almost hear the wheels in your head turning. He can hear the questions that you have before you even think of voicing them out loud. He knows that—despite your lack of experience with magic—you are smart enough to understand things quickly.

Right when you are about to speak, to question him further—to force him to tell you everything about the portals—Yoongi cuts you off with his own question, “What about your latest trips? I thought you said you had been going back to back while I was away? How are you feeling now?”

Finding out that you are experiencing some side effects from the portals made him feel wary, and it worries him more when he thinks about the constant waves of magic reaching out to him and he was never there. “You know, some people might think that it would be better to avoid anything that was harmful to them,” he tries to joke, “and yet you decided to jump right back into it again the moment you had the chance.”

A grin lifts on the corner of your lips. “You got me,” you softly laugh. “I suppose my curiosity got the better of me. In a way, I wanted to test my theory, and—” You stop for a moment as you recall the past few days—the days that Yoongi would have loved to hear more about in detail—and then shrug a little. “You can say that the circumstances made it hard for me to avoid going on those trips.”

Your gaze flicks back to him. “I might say that fate pointed out the way and I simply followed.” Yoongi returns your smile. “But things are different now.”

“Different? In what way?”

You make a humming sound as you answer, “I’ve been training. Someone—one of my guardians—offered to help me practice controlling my mana, even if I can’t really use it to expel magic.” Yoongi cannot help but smile as you share this. He loves seeing how proud you look, simply from thinking about what you have achieved on your own. The look of excitement for overcoming a challenge and getting yourself ready to try facing another.

“Do you think your training has been helping you, seeing that you are doing quite alright now even after—how busy you’ve been?”

“I’m not quite sure, really,” you admit with a nervous smile, “That’s also why I’ve been waiting to see you. What do you think? Do you reckon my progress may have anything to do with how I’m not sick right now?”

Yoongi considers the option for a moment before nodding. “It might,” he cautiously says, “By having control of your mana, you might have been able to inadvertently prevent your mana from being drained completely while you had your expeditions.”

This answer seems to please you. “Of course, I am not an expert in this type of magic,” he quickly says before you get your hopes up. And it is not a complete lie, as there are real experts back home at Emburn who study this old magic properly that would know better than he does now. And he quickly makes it his mission to find them once he returns. ”I can try and help you look for answers if that can help you.”

Your smile widens. And he suddenly feels like his chest is too tight for his beating heart. “Would you do that for me?” you ask, to which he feels his knees weakening beneath him that he comes to a halt, bringing you close to him as he pulls you gently towards him.

“Anything, little dove,” he murmurs as he gently leans closer. “Even if only to make up for my recent absence and the days that went on without us being able to enjoy our time like this.”

Yoongi is so close. You are so close that he can breathe in the scent of your shampoo and the soft fragrance that you might have dropped onto the curves of your neckline this morning—something sweet and floral and maddeningly luscious—that his entire body grows warm. Before he can stop himself, his hand rises, fingers gently sweeping back some stray strands of hair that keep escaping to your cheek, and your face flushes.

Clearing your throat, you lower your gaze with a bashful smile. “Speaking of places with mana,” you softly speak, a hint of shyness flutters in your voice which pleases him dearly when you ask, “Have you been to a place called Aeris?”

Swallowing hard, Yoongi tries to calm his expression when he answers. “I’ve been there many times. Some of the merchants and barons that have hired me are those who deal with businesses in both realms, that’s why I frequently go to marketplaces like Narlès and Aeris.” He inclines his head. “Why do you ask?”

“Have you been there recently?” you question him, gnawing your lips as if you aren’t sure to ask.

“Not that I recall, no. I’ve been going to places where people were dealing with various crisis, and I have yet to visit any marketplaces lately.”

You try to hide it, but Yoongi can see a hint of disappointment in your eyes. “I see.”

Yoongi falls silent instead of questioning further. Because he knows why you would ask him about Aeris.

He was unable to leave the Imperial Palace when he felt you visiting the Mage City, so he had to send out the only one he trusted to go in his place and watch over you, making sure that you were safe. Yet it seems that Yijeong has failed to report back to him to let him know that you had caught him, or perhaps felt his presence while shadowing you through the city.

That fool.

Swallowing a frustrated groan, Yoongi reminds himself to be grateful. Despite his recklessness and his lack of trust in you, Yijeong has been there when Yoongi couldn’t. His loyal friend has continued volunteering to take his place, jumping into the magic portal whenever the ripples came calling for Yoongi to follow, all to be able to watch over you and keep you safe while Yoongi was stuck in the Empress’ little ploy.

From the mage city of Aeris to the legendary E’l Alora, the ancient place that is no longer shown on any kind of map, and then to the fallen city of Arselon, where mortals are no longer welcomed after they became casualties of war.

Yoongi cannot imagine what kind of adventures you have been to. Not even Yijeong’s reports were adequate in letting him know what you’ve learned from these expeditions of yours. How much he wishes to be there to witness it. And how inadequate it makes him feel to realise how much he has missed.

“The next time we meet again,” Yoongi gently says, “Tell me everything about your latest journey.”

The smile you give him holds hope and promise. “As long as you share me yours.”

As soon as you’ve made it across the bridge with Yoongi, you come to a halt, hesitant to continue.

You can feel it from a distance; the ripples of magic coming out of the portal, waiting for your return, hidden deep between the trees.

Silently, you wonder if Yoongi can feel it too. For some reason, you know that he can feel it, but he chooses not to show it. Not to say anything. Respecting your need to hold your secret just a bit longer until you can trust him completely with it.

Judging from the way he isn’t making any move to continue, he is respecting your choice by not following you through the woods unless you allow him to.

But keeping your secret and preventing him from following you to find the opened portal is the least of your concerns at this moment. You hate having to say goodbye so soon when you just met him again. Your time together has been too short, you feel like it wasn’t enough.

Yoongi tilts his head, noticing your silence. “Is there something wrong?” he asks, as if he can sense you having an inner battle in your silence.

“I don’t want to say goodbye so soon,” you admit with a quiet whisper.

“Then don’t,” Yoongi says, smiling. “Don’t say goodbye. Not when we’re going to see each other again.”

“Is that true? Will we be able to see each other again?” You cannot help but ask, “I’ve believed that we would, but—”

Taking your hand in his, Yoongi gives it a gentle squeeze. “I promise, whenever you make the jump to travel somewhere, to a new place across the realm or even towards the next realm, I’ll come running to you,” he says with a firm voice, only that you are too afraid to believe him, to hope, after being disappointed the last few times you went and never found yourself crossing paths with him.

“Don’t say such promises as if it is something that you are capable of doing,” you whisper bitterly, looking away.

Still keeping a gentle hold of your hand, Yoongi tilts your chin up with his other hand, bringing your gaze back to him. “As I’ve told you many times before, little dove. I wouldn’t dare make a promise that I’m not sure I can keep,” he whispers as he plays with a few stray strands of your hair before tucking them behind your ear. Just like before, when he did the same and the tips of his fingers brushed lightly against your cheek, your body shudders. Your skin grows hot, and you sway on your feet, your body leaning towards him to feel more.

Your eyes flutter to close as you embrace this feeling, yet you quickly open them again, resisting, only so you can look at him longer. But then his face comes closer, almost as if he is leaning for a kiss. “Can you keep that promise?” you force yourself to ask, even when your voice comes out small, almost breathless. “Can you really find a way to know where I am the next time I walk across the realm and be there when I make the jump?”

Yoongi says nothing at first. But the intense way he is looking at you, with no words, only with a gaze that seems tortured, as if he is pained for not being able to say much seems to speak louder than his words would.

“How? How would you be able to do such a thing?”

Instead of answering you, Yoongi only smiles. “Why don’t we make a little deal, you and me?” Yoongi offers instead, “I will tell you the next time we see each other again. Better yet, each time we meet again, I will share with you one secret of mine for you to keep. Something more about myself.”

Sucking a deep breath, you try to calm the flutter building in your chest. And fail. “Promise?” Your voice comes out in a whisper. “And I—” You continue, feeling your throat tightening when you think about all the things you can offer to make this fair. You want to give something back. A piece of you to every piece of himself that he is willing to give you.

Bringing your hand up, you offer him your pinky finger. “Then I’ll share something about myself too when we see each other again.”

Looking up close, Yoongi’s eyes seem to sparkle. Intrigued and pleased, Yoongi’s smile deepens as he entwines his pinky finger around yours and murmurs, “It’s a promise.”

Neither of you makes a move to separate, remaining in this position just a bit longer, staying close with his eyes staring deeply into yours. For a moment, you wonder if he is going to kiss you, as he slowly bends down, his face growing closer, until he suddenly stops with a hesitant smile. “Until we meet again,” he says instead, kissing the back of your hand.

You are filled with a mix of emotions, yet the touch of his lips on your skin makes your heart flutter, soaring with hope.

“Remember,” he whispers, “All you need to do is jump, and I’ll come running to you.”

Despite everything, you know deep down that you can hold onto this promise. You want to believe him, and that is exactly what you say to him in the end before you finally decide to part ways just beyond the last line of trees.

“Will you be okay crossing the woods on your own?” Yoongi asks, still reluctant to let you go into the woods.

“I have my dagger with me, and I know how to defend myself,” you reassure him, and his gaze flickers with knowing, believing that you are telling him the truth. “If all fails, I’ll scream for help.”

Yoongi softly laughs. “I’ll be here,” he says, as he slides his hands into his pockets, as if he is doing so to hold back from reaching out to you. “At least until you make it across.”

You leave him standing by the bridge as you trudge into the thickets, his warm smile becomes the last thing you see when you look over your shoulder one last time, before slipping deeper into the woods and entering the magic portal waiting to take you home. You close your eyes for a brief moment when the magic engulfs you, pulling you through the space in between before you arrive back home. The force of the magic is so strong, that you barely feel it when another ripple of magic follows your departure, coming from somewhere nearby, right before the magic door closes behind you.

The moment you open your eyes again, you are standing in the middle of the quiet corridor back in Stargrave. There is an emptiness in your chest as you walk further away from the ghostly feeling of the magic portal slowly waning behind you as you slowly make your way back to your bedchamber, yet you find no reason to feel any sorrow as you stroll down the empty hallways and into your silent quarter.

Because you've arrived back home not all empty-handed. Not when you have the warmth of a promise filling your heart, the ghost of Yoongi’s touch lingering in your palm, and five pouches of pixie dust in the pocket of your dress.

The day after your last trip, where you got to visit the home of elves and pixies, you remain in the castle instead of allowing your curiosity to take you away once again.

Your father’s keys are secured safely in one of the drawers inside your bedchamber. Out of sight, though not entirely out of mind.

“Take a day off from travelling, especially since you’ve been travelling more frequently as of late,” Yoongi had suggested yesterday, right before you parted ways, right after you made him so obviously worry about your well-being after you shared your recent predicament.

And you have chosen to follow his advice. To preserve your energy and mana until the next time you will be needing it again. Until the next time you see him again.

“And where will you be while I’m gone? Back to your mercenary business?”

Yoongi had given you a tight smile when you asked. Yet his eyes were filled with resolve when he answered, “Perhaps I shall handle my business to make sure they will no longer be in the way of me catching up to you.”

With no plans on escaping the confines of the castle, you spend your afternoon at the terrace on Nanny Abigail’s quarter for some afternoon tea with your governess. It has been a while since you spent some time with her without any agenda hidden under your sleeves—or hers.

Being here also means keeping you away from any possibility of you straying down vacant hallways in the castle and finding cryptic doors with humming spells enchanting you to open.

“It’s quite remarkable to think that on the same day you spent the hour of your dancing lesson stubbing your toes one too many times, you spent the rest of the afternoon sparring with the knights,” Nanny Abigail lifts her eyes from her tea and runs her gaze on your body, perusing briefly before commenting, “and without any injuries on your skin.”

You look up, forcing a smile as you resist the urge to admit that you did gain some injuries. But you choose not to say anything, lest you are to be forced to explain everything. Or worse, to risk causing an innocent royal knight to take the blame.

“How did you find out?” You ask her instead while keeping your voice calm.

Nanny Abigail presses her lips together. A look of displeasure is written all over her face. “Words travel fast in this place. The maids here keep curious eyes on the Princess who had been kept away from the only home she ever knew and is struggling to adjust in this new place,” she says with a wistful tone of voice, as if she has grown tired of the gossips, until she adds, “And those words always come back to me.”

“No wonder I felt like I was constantly being watched.” With an exaggerated sigh, you shake your head and mutter, “And here I thought it was all you.”

Eyebrows raised, Nanny Abigail looks at you with an unamused look on her face. “You think I planted a spy on you?”

You give her a sly grin as you shrug. “Wouldn’t be too surprised if you had. You’ve always seemed to have many eyes looking at me even when you are not around.”

Your governess narrows her eyes at you as she murmurs almost to herself, “Perhaps it’s time I should put a spy on you to make sure you behave like a princess for once.”

The bitter way she says it only makes you laugh, which draws a smile to her face. A fleeting sight to see, that you almost believe you are imagining things, until you hear the sound of her soft chuckle, laughing at her own joke. She expertly hides it behind her cup of tea, keeping her poise as always.

“May I ask you something?” you carefully ask her when a thought comes through your mind. Something has been weighing in your mind lately, and seeing that your governess seems to be in a light mood—enough for her to joke around with you—you figure this might as well be the right time to bring this up.

Nanny Abigail lifts her eyebrows and hums. “I don’t suppose it will stop you from trying if I refuse.”

You roll your eyes. “Glad to know you think so highly of me,” you tease, once again drawing a small smile from her. You take a deep breath before asking, “How well did you know my mother?”

At the mention of your mother, Nanny Abigail’s shoulders grow stiff. She quickly recovers and straightens up as she slowly lowers her cup. She clears her throat before answering, “Well enough to see parts of her in you each time I’m looking at you. It’s like seeing a reflection of her when I look at your face, or listen to you speak.”

Her gaze finds you. The joy in her eyes dims and softens when a smile comes to her face. A smile that is filled with melancholy and a familiar sense of longing. “Might be why it doesn’t surprise me when you are always up to something whenever no one is looking.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Nanny Abigail sighs. “The Queen, your mother, has always been just as mischievous as you are. She has always been like that since she was a child. Always so curious, always questioning and looking for answers, even if it’s the most impossible ones to find.”

You cannot help but smile as you hear this. “How did that go with my father?”

“His Majesty was always worried about her, but what can he do?” she says, waving her hand dismissively. “Not even the most strict rules can stop her from going out to see the world.”

Your back straightens. You have learned from Lord Gordan that you may have some similarities with your mother. You never expected to even share this with her. “She was a traveller.”

Nanny Abigail looks at you, smiling. “And a scholar,” she adds. “That was her true power.” She briefly halts, thinking, before adding, “Well, one of them. Her curiosity is one, and her knowledge is the other. But the most important one that she obtained over the years would be her courage. The one thing that kept pushing her to find more and more knowledge, no matter where and how.”

“This castle is full of books,” you muse, recalling how much the royal library had amazed you the first time you entered it. And it seems that you keep finding more and more books—all the rare ones that have often helped answer your questions—the more you explore deeper. “Was it because my mother loved to learn?”

“Yes, it was. Your mother’s always so fond of books,” Nanny Abigail says with a fond look in her eyes. “I believe she also kept a journal with her. A small notebook where she would keep the things she found and learned through her journeys.”

The conversation halts for a moment as Nanny Abigail pours some more tea into the cups, while your mind wanders. “How did she travel?” you find yourself asking, wondering, to which Nanny Abigail merely scoffs.

“Heavens know. She always had her secrets,” she answers with a soft chuckle. “Mostly, she would disappear hours into the day and come back once evening comes. Sometimes later, looking weary and excited at the same time from whatever adventure she got herself on.”

Furrowing your brows, you think about what she mentioned earlier. “The journal. Have you ever seen it? Have you ever read what she wrote in it?”

Nanny Abigail presses her lips and shakes her head. “No, she used to keep it to herself. Kept it hidden in her bedchamber.” Her gaze seems far away when she continues, “But she would talk about her day as she was writing about it. Sometimes she would do sketches. She would draw the places, the people she met, and the things she saw into these rough sketches for her to keep in her memory, but never once had she ever shown me anything she put down in that journal.”

Talking about your mother and the things they used to do back then brings another smile to her face. And she talks as if the memory is still fresh, that everything is happening in the present instead of the past, that you can almost see it through her eyes, to feel your mother’s presence the way Nanny Abigail is feeling it now. “Besides, even if I ever got a peek at her writing, I wouldn’t have understood it,” she adds.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Your mother’s quite adept with languages. She grew up speaking the language of the elves, and she was learning the native language of the moon fairies when she first began writing in that journal.” Her sigh is filled with longing when she continues, “She left a page on her desk once, something that looked like a letter that fell from the journal. She was quick to hide it, but I remember not recognising the language or the letters that she used. I couldn’t even read her scribbles, since she wrote them so quickly. Perhaps she had done it while on the road.”

She laughs. “I think it’s her way of keeping all the information she wrote a secret, only for certain people to be able to read them.”

You lean forward, getting more and more curious about this journal that your mother had allegedly carried with her. “Do you know where it is now?” you try to ask. “Or is it—is it lost with most of her belongings?”

Nanny Abigail only answers with a resigned sigh. “No one knows. The Queen holds her secrets deeply, even in her absence.” Her gaze finds yours as she raises her cup of tea to her lips. “Just like you do.”

A beat of silence falls. The wheels in your head are turning wildly as you try to connect all the dots. The places you’ve been. The words that were given to you by the people you met.

But then all the puzzling clues you have gathered in your memory scatter when Nanny Abigail suddenly chastises you, “Of all the things you could have been doing in your free time, why did it have to be a sword fight?”

Scoffing, you raise your brows at her. “Are you wishing that I’d be doing embroideries instead?”

“Well, you could need some more work on that, for sure,” she teases, making you laugh.

“Hah! Very funny,” you respond with a chuckle. “But really, I was—” Sighing, you decide to share some truth about what has been troubling you. “I was bored, and I was getting too soft.”

Nanny Abigail gives you an incredulous look. “From dancing?”

“From the lack of physical training,” you bitterly admit, “I don’t think Lord Gordan is brazen enough to defy my father in terms of giving me lessons in fighting.”

You hear Nanny Abigail sighing as she mutters, “As if you still need one.”

“You are good at dancing and yet you still practice when you have the chance.”

Your governess looks at you, saying nothing, but you can tell that she is silently agreeing with you. But the world will end if she ever admits it to your face. “So,” she says after sipping her tea. “Did you win?”

Your lips twist to a sly grin. “What do you think?”

One hour later, you find yourself returning to your quarters after a lazy afternoon. Your bedchamber is quiet, yet your mind is almost as lively as the rapid sound of your heartbeat as you reach for your dresser. Opening the top drawer, you find the set of keys gifted by your father. The magic keys cast silver and golden glow across the drawers and onto your face, the spell hums through the quiet space around you, as if asking why you haven’t reached for them today.

Yet your gaze moves past them, landing on the small bundle that you had carried home with you from the fallen city of Arselon.

You slowly reach for it, lifting the bundle in your hand with precise care—as if the thing will crumble into dust under your fingers. The bundle felt small when Gaia first handed it to you, enough for you to slip it under your cloak when you took it home. With gentle fingers, you pry open the velvet fabric covering it, revealing three small items bound together by a thick, white thread.

The first item is a key; made of steel and mostly covered in rust, reminding you of the iron gate leading towards the forbidden part of the royal garden that you have yet to travel into.

The second is an old folded map; with an inscription on the front cover written in one of the native languages you have been learning from Lady Laurel. Elven tongue.

But what intrigues you the most is the third item. Weighing down on your palm is a small notebook. Small enough to fit in the small sling bag that you often carry with you when you are travelling or into the side pocket of your coat. The leather cover is tainted with ink stains and appears to be slightly worn out by age. The papers seem old and worn, with yellowing edges and some growing crisp and falling apart. Deep down, you have a feeling that you already know what this item is even without having to open it.

“I believe she also kept a journal with her…”

Nanny Abigail’s voice echoes through your head as you gently run the tips of your fingers over the leather covering, finding the small initial embossed into the leather, right at the bottom corner of the front cover.

The inscription is made in a cursive letter, looking almost like a signed autograph marked into the leather coverings so it wouldn’t wear away by the passing of time, and the inscription reads the letter ‘M’.

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