#my best friend is coming back home to me in around a week

[humanjarvis]

call it what you want

synopsis: when you visit a gathering of childhood friends, they’re wary of you and caleb’s relationship. and while you take it in stride, he takes it to heart. 

tags: fluff, angst, heart to heart, happy ending, calebmc judged by childhood friends for their relationship, mc withstands it but caleb withdraws, barely yandere caleb, he does watch mc when they’re apart though, caleb breaks somebody’s teeth with his evol, calebmc relationship depicted as the jumbled up mess that it is, there’s not really pseudocest though, calebmc are each other’s first kiss, caleb is insecure, mc comforts the hell out of him, references to caleb’s mental illness, allusions to sex. inspired by “call it what you want” by taylor swift  pairing: caleb x fem!reader, reader is mc word count: 8.1k (woah!)

a/n: behold my thesis on the intricate siblingfriendpartnership of calebmc. it’s the best thing i’ve written and i’m so glad. but also this has ended up doubling as my 2k followers special 🎉🎉🎉 that is an unfathomable amount of people subjecting themselves to my writing and i’m seriously so grateful. thank you for motivating me to create! anyway, i truly hope you get something out of this, but even if you don’t, i’m proud of it 💞

“C’mon, pip-squeak. We can't ignore it forever. I’m here now, and I'll be right by your side. All those bad memories…you won’t have to face them alone anymore.”

“I know. And I’m glad. But still, it’s…different now,” you smile weakly, failing to suppress a heavy sigh. 

Caleb was in Linkon for the week, having put his foot down about his well-earned time off. And you, having gotten used to the constant Fleet interruptions, had gone the extra mile to make him unreachable: locking his communicator in your bedside drawer. 

After three days of making new memories—you’d ticked the movies, the zoo, and a concert off your list—his love for nostalgia had finally gotten the better of him. He’d set his sights on reminiscence, and all morning, he’d been pestering you to visit your old neighborhood. Where your childhood home had once stood.

“We can just take a look around. Five minutes, tops. Aren’t you curious about that old playset you used to drag me to? Always made me spot you under the monkey bars in case you fell. I’m sure they miss you,” he teases, hope shining in his ametrine eyes. 

And as you picture it—the iron bars of the jungle gym, now rusted with time; the grayish, well-traveled cobblestone streets; the wild honeysuckle bushes scattered around the block—you know this is a battle you can’t win. 

“Fine,” you huff. “But you’re driving.” 

“As if I’d refuse. And hey,” he softens, grabbing your arm gently. “If it’s too much, let me know. We’ll come back right away.” 

***

Your stomach roils as familiar street signs come into view.  

Green lawns and picket fences. Symbols of safety you could no longer trust. 

Humming along to an old pop hit on the radio—a valiant attempt to distract you—Caleb turns into your neighborhood, and you clench your teeth involuntarily. 

Luckily, you don’t have too much time to worry. Because seconds later, he pulls over a few houses from home and puts the car in park. 

You sit for a moment. Watching. Breathing.  

Thinking of how the last time you came here, he was dead.

“I’ll race ya,” he says suddenly, shutting the engine off and throwing his door open. And with a strained chuckle, you follow suit.

You lose on purpose, slowing your steps the closer you get to Gran’s house. You know he can tell.  

But soon, you run out of room to stall. 

As you stand beside the “FOR SALE” sign, feeling like a stranger, the freshly polished wood and foreign color scheme deepen the pit inside your stomach. 

Caleb whistles lowly. “Sure looks different, doesn’t it?”

But you’re not listening. You’re remembering. 

You remember the smell—the charred scent that stuck with you for so long after the explosion, your nostrils blistered from too much blowing. The way ashes fell endlessly from the sky, and you didn’t know what—or who—they were made of. The last-minute salon visit you’d had to schedule to chop the singed ends of your hair off. 

“C’mon. That playground is just this way,” he offers, coaxing voice saving you from too much rumination. 

“Okay,” you whisper, sliding your hand into his.

It was an age-old lesson, one you’d learned a hundred times: summer heat and monkey bars don’t mix.

As you flinch away with a startled hiss, Caleb casually pulls spare gloves from his pocket—as if he kept them on him for a situation like this—and carefully slips them onto you. For someone whose hands dwarf yours, they fit suspiciously well. 

“Up you go,” he sings, lifting you to reach the handles. And just like all those years before, he walks beside you as you cross, steadying you with his gentle touch. 

When you reach the end, instead of jumping down, you shift your momentum to swing backwards, skater dress twirling with the motion. 

But as your front faces the street again, you realize your mistake a moment too late. 

“Oh my gosh, is that who I think it is?!” 

As a vaguely recognizable voice squeals, you freeze in place, hands squeezing around the iron bars in a death grip. 

“Oh, it totally is! You haven’t come around here in forever—it’s so good to see you!” the voice continues. 

Turning your head—slowly, like the main character in a horror film—your eyes land on an all too familiar figure. Sarah, a girl around your age you used to envy for her toy collection, stands just feet away from you, long leash corralling a massive German Shepherd held tightly in her manicured hand. 

With two light taps on your back—Caleb’s signal for you to come down—you loosen your hold and land almost gracefully on the pea gravel below. 

This was a situation you’d only been in once before. When Gideon had crossed paths with you at the cemetery and learned his dead friend was, well…not. 

In any case, the circumstances then had been rare enough for you to carry on without establishing a protocol. And now, as you stand at the mercy of someone with no reason to keep Caleb’s secret, you’ll be forced to improvise. 

“Hi…Sarah,” you grin awkwardly, fiddling with your hands in front of you. “Thought you’d have moved by now.”

“Nope!” she chirps, not catching your apprehension. “We’re gonna give it one more year. After my husband saves up from his new job, we want to travel a bit before settling down.” 

You nod brusquely. 

“By the way, we haven’t really seen you here since the accident. I’m so sorry about your grandmother and Caleb—I know how close you two were. But—oh! Excuse my manners,” she pivots, looking behind you as if a lightbulb flicked on overhead. “Who’s th—”

Sarah’s tanned face blanches. 

“Hey Sarah. It’s been a while,” he greets casually. 

And the woman in front of you looks between you both as if she’s seconds away from siccing that dog on you. 

“You…caught us at a bad time,” you giggle nervously. “It’s kind of a secret, but…that was a…false report, after the explosion. Caleb actually managed to flee the area with a few burns. The authorities just kept the whole thing under wraps in case it was a targeted attack, or something. So I’ve been keeping an eye on him ever since!” you smile tightly, squeezing his dry palm with your clammy one. 

“Oh…well…what a relief, I guess!” she chuckles uncomfortably. “Well…if you’re not laying too low, Caleb,” she starts, extroverted nature beating out her rationality, “we’re having a get-together with all the neighborhood kids tomorrow! You guys should totally come. We’d hate to miss our favorite duo—you were always so funny, nagging each other like siblings.” 

You bristle at the term, gripping Caleb’s hand so tightly it could bruise. “Um, thanks for the offer, Sarah, but we…” you trail off, looking at him to help you. 

“We’d love to come!” he doesn’t. 

“Uh, we…would?” you question, perplexed by his sudden enthusiasm. 

“Yeah, why not, pips? It’d do you good to reconnect with some of the girls you liked hangin’ around. Plus, I’ll be right there with you,” he smiles brightly. 

Though his reasoning barely quells your anxiety, your heart softens at the gesture.

“Alright, then,” you turn to Sarah. “We’ll be there.”

The old mall down the block is halfway through renovations. 

Neon orange construction cones litter the parking lot, and every door but the main entrance is sealed off with yellow caution tape. 

Navigating through the weekend traffic, you and Caleb wander through the swarming, noisy corridors, leaving store after store empty-handed. 

You don’t know what to wear. 

Meeting so many people after such a long time…there’s an irrational need to impress, to look like you have your life together.

And somehow, every outfit seems off on you. It’s not false advertising—the mannequins are gorgeous as ever. But there’s something about you that ruins every look. 

As you rummaged through different displays, Caleb had done some light hovering—staying near, but letting you do your own thing, overall. 

But as you return another dress to the rack with a frustrated growl, he swoops in to put his scary intuition to good use. 

“This would suit you,” he grins kindly, brandishing a pastel blue sundress. “Wanna try it on?”

You eye the fabric skeptically. It’s not your usual style, but you take it into the dressing room anyway. 

And of course, the first thing Caleb picks out for you is perfect. 

“Told ya,” he laughs when you call him inside, back hugging you in the mirror. “You look beautiful. ‘Course it helps that it was my idea, and all.”

Swatting him gently, you giggle as you try to push him out of the cramped space, grunting with annoyance when he sandbags you. 

“Get out of here!” you protest. “We still have to find your outfit, and the mall closes soon.”

“Okay, okay, I'm going,” he relents cheekily. “Snap a picture for me before you take it off, though, alright?”

***

Once you’d paid—or he’d paid, having levitated your purse in the air while you scowled at him—you’d dragged him over to the men’s section, where you’d found an outfit just his size with a similar color scheme.

He’d preened when you held it out to him, puffing his chest out with pride at the fact you knew his tastes so well. And in his sparkling eyes, you’d spotted a flicker of possessiveness as he looked between your clear garment bag and the clothes in his hands, not so subtly comparing the blues to each other. 

And evidently, with the way he’d refused to even try anything on before heading back to the register, he’d been satisfied. 

As you make your way back to his car, Caleb tugs you in by the waist to claim your lips in a tender kiss. 

“It’s perfect,” he breathes. “It’ll be perfect. And even though we’ll be matchin’…I get the feeling you’ll be the one people can’t look away from.”

Caleb’s hand is on the small of your back as you step through Sarah’s front door, but it leaves you as he encourages you to mingle. “Go catch up,” he urges with his signature grin. 

You know what he’s doing. What this whole thing has been. A way to push you out of your comfort zone, a prolonged apology, and a promise to be less overbearing, all in one.

He needs it just as much as you do. Needs you to know that he’s trying. So as you nod softly and make your way through the throng of laughing faces, you hope he sees you trying, too.

Sarah’s parents had both been lawyers, and if the diplomas lining the far wall of the living room didn’t make that clear enough, the sheer size of their house sure did. 

The layout is vaguely familiar—Caleb had been friends with her older brother, and you’d practically begged him to tag along on playdates so you could see the fancy house down the street. 

As you take it all in—the flat screen TVs (plural) broadcasting different channels, the iridescent streamers lining the bannisters, the variety of appetizers spread out across the first floor—you only grow more envious. 

Turning away with a petty huff, you focus on the people instead. As you study faces new and old, you wonder how many guests here brought their partners. How many know that you brought yours.

Sarah—ever the gracious host, never the gossip—had informed the attendees about Caleb’s situation in hopes that he wouldn’t be bombarded the second he stepped inside. And it was working, somehow, as far as you could tell. Aside from a few wary glances sent his way, people greeted him just like they did before: as the golden boy whose presence was a gift. 

At some point, as you’d hovered aimlessly by the drink table, a girl you remembered fondly had strolled up to you. Marley, her name was. With her lively eyes, kind smile, and eagerness to play dolls with you, she’d been your closest non-Caleb friend in the neighborhood. 

“Who would’ve thought the girl next door would grow up to be a hunter, huh?” she jokes, gently elbowing your ribs. 

“It’s really not that special,” you laugh, halfheartedly dodging her pokes. “Just something necessary, I guess, since the Wanderers came. I thought it’d be cool, high-stakes action movie stuff every day, but I kinda feel like a firefighter saving a cat from a tree sometimes.”

“Oh, please. You’re practically a superhero! Caleb, too, being a whole pilot and all. Time really flies—I still remember when he helped you set up your lemonade stand that one summer,” she giggles. “You were always so in sync.” 

“Still are,” you smile softly, gaze subconsciously finding Caleb from across the room. He's chatting in a group of his old buddies, but as always, it’s like he can sense you looking at him. His eyes find yours in an instant, as if he already knew where you were standing—because of course he did—and he shoots you a boyish wink.

“But, if you don’t mind me asking,” Marley hesitates, her eyes shifting perplexedly between you. “Are you two…together…now? You seem even closer than you were as kids, if that’s even possible,” she mutters sarcastically, talking from the side of her mouth. 

As the question hits you for the first time that night, you plaster a big, fake smile on your face. “We sure are! It was five months last week.” 

“Well, congrats, I guess,” she tries to exclaim, but her confusion stunts her sincerity. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s just…I never expected you guys would date! You always seemed more like…ah…friends,” she cringes, her own fake smile twitching slightly.

Friends.

As the word fights its way out of her mouth, likely beating several less polite alternatives, the weight of her hesitance is not lost on you.

“Friends, huh?” you echo, and your smile is real this time. A show of your teeth, a hint that she’s just entered dangerous waters. “What kind of friends grow up in the same house, Marley? Raised by the same person, and all. Pretty rare if you ask me,” you cock your head in mock contemplation. “C’mon, what do you really mean to say?”

You’d been taught well. 

“Okay, okay!” she huffs, folding like a lawn chair under the pressure. “I always thought you were like siblings. Thought you guys thought you were like siblings. I’m just surprised, is all.”

“There’s nothing to be surprised about,” you nod curtly. “You lived next door, not with us. You don’t know how we felt about each other.”

Your voice is robotic as you meet her with a deadened stare. No matter how much you’d expected it, no matter how much you’d prepared, the judgment catches you off guard. 

The rumors, the gossip—it’s one reason you thought Caleb would decline the invite. To protect you, if nothing else. But with a bitter, inward laugh, you guess that him trying means letting you be in situations you might’ve begged him to shield you from.

“I need some air,” you decide suddenly, interrupting Marley’s frantic apologies to turn toward the door. “It was nice catching up.” 

A cool breeze kisses your exposed skin as you watch the fireflies blink from the patio. And as beautiful as they are, glittering in the night sky, there are other things on your mind at the moment.

If Caleb was ever a brother to you, he was the best brother anyone ever had.

You’d seen the way your friends acted with their brothers. Always kept a watchful eye on their interactions, as if comparing their relationships to yours. Middle school, high school, college.

And over all those years, no brother had ever been as attentive—as doting, as patient, as loving—as Caleb. 

After the explosion, when you were left to deal with your feelings alone—no nagging, oversized puppy to distract you—you’d pondered how you saw him. Deep down, under the structure and order and propriety that was forced upon you too young. Regretted that it was too late to ask him how he saw you. 

And if those quiet nights crying so hard it felt like drowning had taught you anything, it was this: as much as Caleb was brotherly, he had always been more—so much more than what he had to be to you.

He could’ve shut himself in his room for hours, leaving you to fend for yourself. He could’ve ghosted you the minute you no longer went to the same school. Could’ve found a girlfriend, had kids early, and moved his real family far away from you. All these things, you’d seen happen.

But through it all, Caleb had stayed, and he’d done it with his signature smile. Even when you’d worried he’d outgrown you, had outpaced you with his stellar achievements, he’d just pinched your cheek with a fond grin. Who d’ya think I do all that for, silly? he’d laughed. 

By your reunion, when he’d stared down at you so cruelly, you’d known what he was to you. The only man you’d ever loved, in all meanings of the phrase. That’s why it had hurt so much. 

And Caleb had scared you off. Your feelings were fragile, only newly realized. But his…were developed. Intense. More intense than you were ready for, coming from someone who’d been off-limits for 15 years. 

So you’d resisted. Resisted his spiraling admissions, resisted the feelings you knew he had for you, resisted his frantic attempts to steal you from the world. 

It would take time for you to accept a love like his. You’d told him as much five months ago—that you needed to meet in the middle. And he’d promised to try. 

As the days went by, you got used to treating him like a lover. To putting new meanings behind every touch. And every time you kissed him, he carved out more of his own paradise in your mind, escaping the liminal area he’d occupied in unfulfilling restraint. 

It was only in moments like this when prying eyes and hushed whispers wore you down. People who thought that, because they knew you once—for a summer, for a semester, for a school year—they knew who you were and how you felt. But there was something paradoxically mercurial about you and Caleb: the more you stayed the same, the more you changed. And only the two of you were privy to it. 

Even still, some leers and questions got to you, just as they had tonight. Apprehension and a resented sense of shame had filled your gut, as if you’d been “caught” stealing from your own wallet. 

But of all the things Caleb was to you, only one mattered: he was yours. And as a firefly lands on your outstretched palm, twinkling beautifully in the darkness that threatens it, you know no one can take that from you. 

Caleb had had better nights. 

He’d had worse, for sure—agony and loneliness come to mind—but he’d definitely had better. 

He’s spent this one mingling among the names he hadn’t cared to remember, all as an attempt to show you he won’t cage you in. You can have fun, have friends outside of him, as much as the thought makes his stomach churn. 

And what better way to start than with people he already knew? Baby steps.

As he cranes his neck to find you again (which shouldn’t be hard, since he just has to look for the one dressed like him), he vaguely registers an incessant buzz of a voice talking his ear off. Jared, he calls himself. 

“Anyway, I can’t believe you did that to her. That’s fucked up, man,” the voice says, clapping Caleb’s back with an obnoxious chortle. 

And as much as he needs to find you, Caleb really wishes he’d spared some of his attention for the homunculus beside him. 

“What exactly are you implying?” he asks lowly, lifting the hand from his shoulder with a firmness that any sober person would find threatening. 

He’s almost certain you’re not in the room, now, your calming presence lost in the sea of discarded memories. Alarms sound in his head at the realization, only to be drowned out by something more damning.

“It’s just…you grew up together! Had the same grandma. That's like your sister, dude. But you know what, to each their own. The way she looks, I can’t say I would've held myself back any better than you did. Probably worse, man. Matter of fact, you fucked her y—?”

The force of Caleb’s Evol clamps Jared’s mouth shut.

And, if his muffled yelp is any indication, hopefully breaks a few of his teeth, their bloodied chips settling on his tongue.

“This sorry excuse for a conversation is over. Leave. Now. And if I see you talking to her on your way out, I’ll make sure you never get the chance to again.”

Jared nods fearfully, and after one last snarl, Caleb lifts his Evol, albeit begrudgingly. It takes Jared a few seconds to notice his newfound freedom, but the moment he does, he’s scurrying out of the house. Good. 

You’re back in Caleb’s sight, now. But as he takes in your shy smile, the faint melody of your laughter filling his keen ears, he doesn’t feel the comfort he normally would. 

Instead, he feels his dog tag. 

Your precious gift to him. A symbol of how you needed him, of your anticipation that he’d always be in your life. Of his hope that one day, you’d return his feelings. 

He recalls the once comfortable weight, the way his body heat would flow into the cool metal, linking it to him in a warm embrace. 

The chain now burns against his throat.

Jared had been brash.

Crude, crass, and certainly cocky, thinking he was deserving of you. 

So as Caleb watches you chat among a mixed group of guests, swirling his full cup in agitation, he decides he doesn’t care about the delivery. It’s the content that troubles him. 

Because Jared, in his drunken state, had managed to hit a nerve Caleb had tried to sever five months ago. 

Are you sure you want this? he’d asked you shakily. Want it from me? With me?

And in clear confirmation, you’d claimed his first kiss.

But even still, the thoughts lingered at the back of his brain. That he was tainting you, taking advantage of you, stealing your life away. 

He knows Jared isn’t worth the scum beneath his shoe, but those unsavory thoughts made his own worries resurface. 

And as fickle as his mind was, he’d only ever known to trust it. 

So when Caleb sees you beam at another man’s compliment, glowing like you’d been sent from heaven itself, he feels like maybe he’d been right.

For the rest of the night, Caleb dreaded the drive home. Luckily, you’d slept for most of the way back. 

But as he parks outside your building, gently rousing you from your sleep, the feeling returns in full force. 

“Good morning,” you giggle, stretching drowsily. “Sorry I fell asleep on you—I can’t remember the last time I talked that much. Did you have fun?” 

“Something like that,” he says, popping the driver’s door open. “You?”

“I did, I think,” you start, opening your own side and sliding out of his car. “I really did. It was a little rough at first, but it got better. What about you? Anybody try to stab your brains out? Since you’re undead and all.” 

He chuckles dryly. “Not exactly.”

As you trudge toward your apartment, Caleb trails behind you. You’re so dazed, you almost don’t notice it. But you miss the familiar warmth of his left hand.

Your tired fingers quiver as you fail to unlock your door, and with a gentle nudge, Caleb slides the key in for you. 

Mumbling a “thank you,” you step through the doorway, making space for him to follow. When he doesn’t, you turn to face him, frowning lightly in confusion. Gleaming in the moonlight, the metal threshold separates your feet: yours on the inside, his on the outside. 

“I’ve been called back to Skyhaven. It’s nothing too serious, but I’ll have to cut this visit short. Don’t worry about me.”

The words pierce your chest like a dagger, but his cold delivery twists the knife.

“Oh,” you breathe, not knowing what to do or where to look or how to hide your disappointment. “I didn’t know they had any way of contacting you. Your communicator’s still in my nightstand, you know,” you quip lamely. “But I guess four days has to be enough this time. I’m lucky to have gotten that.”

Smiling weakly, you lean in to kiss him. But with his sudden reservation, the moment is more chaste than you’d intended. 

As he starts to turn away, you instinctively grab his hand. “Are you…is everything okay? You’re being weird,” you whisper, eyes searching him in concern. 

“No I’m not,” he retorts, forcing life back into his voice. The weight of his hand ruffling your hair feels wrong, somehow, and his airy tone is a contrast to the darkness in his gaze. “Get some rest, pip-squeak.”

Caleb never thought the jewelry box you’d left at his place would come in handy. 

He had no use for it—the only piece he truly needed to preserve stayed looped around his neck at all times. 

But as he stares at the silver chain hung carefully on a hook, its ruby-crested apple dangling in the evening sunlight, he silently thanks you for your forgetfulness. 

It’s been two days since he returned to Skyhaven, but the events of that night remain fresh wounds in a fragile mind. 

I can’t believe you did that to her.

I can’t believe you did that to her.

To you. Not with.

As if his love was an assault. 

All his life, Caleb had tried to show you only the good sides of him. To tamper down his intensities so you’d eat from his palm. You were a skittish thing, failed one too many times by an inadequate world. So he’d approached you gently, practicing docility until it became second nature. To keep his eager hands from defiling you. 

He’d molded himself into whoever you needed him to be, never admitting what he wanted to be to you. All so you would tolerate him, want to keep him around for his services, if nothing else. Because as much as he claimed to protect you, your safety was his anchor. If you were loved, warm, and unharmed—if he kept you that way—then every consequence was worth it. 

He’d learned to live like a chameleon, his temperament matching your mood. And as much as a forgotten part of him yearned for identity, it was a role he’d settled into playing—until his weakened back had snapped under the pressure. 

When you’d confessed that you felt the same—that you loved him in more ways than the one you should—he’d deluded himself into thinking those years of restraint were over. That he could stop watching over you and start walking with you. That you would fall from propriety hand in hand. 

He’d never thought himself naive. Always launched himself ahead of the curve so that would never be an option for him. Naive was something someone with his responsibility couldn’t afford to be. 

But now, as his lifeline swings back and forth on its new perch, jingling with what could only be mockery, the feeling swallows Caleb whole. 

It would’ve killed him to see you with someone else. He’d had nightmares about it every month, save for the last five, ever since he was a teenager. But even if you chose to live with someone else by your side…at least he would have gotten to see you do it. To watch you be happy, carefree, without you wondering if it was your right to be. Without the guilt of robbing your life from you, tainting your purity with his sin.

He knew you were wary. You’d gotten better about it—at hiding it, at least—but he could still feel the panicked clench of your hand in his when someone looked at you too long. You were trying, for him, just as he tried for you. But if trying meant the unfiltered scrutiny that Jared had spewed could one day reach you, it wasn’t worth it, he decided. 

You deserved more than the headache he’d give you. 

***

The days drag on. 

Caleb’s vacation ends as little more than purgatory, and when he dons his Colonel uniform once more, the Fleet’s affairs feel his presence now more than ever. 

He’s sharper now, meaner. Mistakes that would usually earn a light slap on the wrist now end in termination. Figurative or literal, the recruits aren’t sure. 

He knows he’s spiraling. He hears the whispers: “The Colonel’s finally lost it” met with “As if he ever had it.” But rebuke from any voice but yours doesn’t reach him. 

During flights, he plays his missions a little less safe, making rash decisions sure to end in incident, eventually. He justifies it, in his head, by thinking that maybe an injury would inflict upon him the suffering he deserves. 

He’s been drifting, lately. Through the hallways, through the streets, through space. 

But aimless as he is, Caleb can’t bring himself to desert you completely. Those 15 years of gentle servitude had become so ingrained in him, he thinks a total cutoff would only make him more reckless. So he pacifies you with brief, polite answers, sharing none of his usual charm and emoticons. This flighty, diluted version of himself was all that he could offer. 

But each day, when Caleb stumbles back into the necessary solitude of his house, wheezing with overexertion, he heads straight to the hidden room where you’d discovered his bionic arm. Where, under dark wooden panels, a row of monitors hide. 

Their feeds are clear as they’ve always been. Your cubicle, your route home, your front door, your kitchen. Your bedroom. 

And until he succumbs to exhaustion, Caleb watches you. 

Watches you sift through reports, eyes open but unseeing. 

Watches you stumble on the way home, your foot catching on a stray root that he would’ve spotted in time. 

Watches you crumble, after a while, and curl up on the side of your bed where he always slept. 

Watches until the rhythmic rocks of your crying body lull you to sleep in place of his heartbeat.

As the clock strikes midnight, you complete your count to 23.

It’s been 23 days since you’d received anything more than a one-word response from Caleb. 

At first, you’d given him grace—thought he just wasn’t feeling well. He was always one to withdraw from you when sick, locking himself away for a while before emerging like nothing happened. 

But even then, he was never this curt with you. He always reassured you that he was okay.

Days passed, and the mysterious illness theory flew out the window. As you fired off another concerned text, all but pleading for him to say something, you wondered if he was mad at you—but what could you have done? Not to mention that when he was mad at you, it usually ended with him apologizing, somehow. It’s always Caleb’s fault, huh? he’d cooed at you, rubbing your back tenderly. I’m sorry, baby. 

Something was just…wrong. Terribly, scarily wrong. And whatever it was, you had to figure it out alone.

With a frustrated growl, you snatch your phone up from its place on your nightstand and scroll to your latest messages, hoping he’s decided to take you out of time-out. 

you: hi. i know you’re probably sick of me asking, but can you call when you get a chance? haven’t heard your voice in a while.

>:( : later.

Nothing. He was giving you absolutely nothing.

You want to scream. Want to hunt him down, grab him by the collar, and thrash him around for being so difficult. But as your gaze flits to the photo on your desk—a silly selfie you’d taken on your first official date—your heart constricts from how badly miss him. 

You miss him so desperately that the pain in your chest is worse than when he left for college. At least you’d known he would come back to you, then.  

As hot tears well in your eyes—far from the first time—you remember the words he’d written to you once, never intending for you to read them: “Any man who makes you cry isn't worth your time,” you repeat, snorting softly at the irony.

But unluckily for him, Caleb wasn't any man.

Any man wouldn't braid your hair from childhood to now, never teaching you to do it yourself because he wasn’t willing to give up doing it. Any man wouldn't skip the senior trip he’d saved hundreds for just to nurse you through a stomach bug. Any man wouldn't dedicate half his life to making sure yours was painless. 

So no, Caleb wasn’t any man. He was smart, skilled, and devoted. He was reliable, doting, and selfishly self-sacrificing. He was the reason you’d grown up so well, always wanting to make him proud. And he was yours.

Tugging harshly at the roots of your hair—a habit he’d always tried to break—you pace around your bedroom like a frenzied animal.

You were going to go to him, that much was obvious. To ambush him and make him explain what you’d done for him to discard you like this. To apologize, if he’d hear it. 

But how, if he wouldn’t give you the time of day? The man lived in a giant sky fortress, for God’s sake. And with his neverending suspicions, it wasn’t like he trusted any other members of the Fleet enough to give you their contact informati—

Except, you interrupt yourself, freezing mid-step. He did.

Liam.

Caleb’s faithful adjutant, the one you’d spoken to—or spoken at, while he looked at you unnervingly—just a handful of times.

Sometimes, bad ideas are the only ones available.

Retrieving your phone from where it lies face down on your rumpled blanket, you scroll and scroll to the bottom of your contact list, where Liam’s name stares back at you forebodingly. 

Steeling yourself with a shaky nod, you press call and wait with bated breath. He answers on the second ring. 

“Miss, may I ask why you’re calling? Are you in any trouble?” his deep, dispassionate voice, devoid of any true concern, rings out.

You swallow thickly before trusting your voice enough to sound as anything more than a pitiful squeak. “I-I have Caleb’s communicator,” you maneuver skillfully despite your nerves. “He left it at my apartment. Can you take me to him? So I can give it back.”

“You’d be better off turning it in to one of our administrators. The Colonel is very busy right now and—”

“Take me to him, please,” you repeat stubbornly, raised voice echoing off ivory drywall. 

“Miss, I'm only allowed to speak with you if you’re in immediate danger. I'm under strict orders not to facilitate any interaction with the Colonel.”

He’s going to hang up soon, you panic. And then your only chance is gone. 

A flare of anger heats your skin as you realize you don’t have an appointment to see your own boyfriend. The one who can pester you and break your boundaries with a barely apologetic smile, but shuts you out the second you try to do the same.

Channeling your tears from earlier—they still line your eyes, after all—you sniffle into the speaker. Desperate times… 

“What do you think will happen when I tell him you made me cry? You won’t be under any orders anymore,” you bait him quietly, relying on the fragile hope that Caleb was still as fiercely protective of you as he’d been before. 

The pregnant pause on the other line tells you you’d succeeded. “I…” he clears his throat. “Please arrive at the Skyhaven airport at your earliest convenience. I'll be there to take you to the Colonel.”

When Liam’s aircraft lands on the familiar floating island, you rush out with a muttered “thanks” and jam your thumb onto the sensor.

But as the doors slide open and you stomp inside, the silence you’re met with tells you Caleb isn’t home. 

Sighing heavily, you survey your surroundings: the spotless kitchen, barren like it hadn’t been used in weeks; the dust collecting on his most-used surfaces; the tray on the coffee table, missing its usual array of apples. Had he been eating? Had he been coming here at all?

Your worries carry you through the other rooms, but none hold the answers to your questions. 

And as you step into his bedroom, the place you were most likely to find a clue, you wish you hadn’t. 

Because there, hanging tauntingly on a familiar looking jewelry box, is Caleb’s dog tag. The chain he never went without. 

The ache in your chest becomes a gaping void. 

Blood rushes to your ears and makes them ring so loudly that you can’t hear the despondent noise you make. On unsteady feet, you lurch farther into the room and lower your trembling body onto the mattress. 

As you stare at the mahogany jewelry box, looming mockingly on the dresser, you think the walls spin around you. 

In all the years you’d known Caleb, he had never been one to just give up—so what about you was so condemnable that it finally made him?

He wasn’t here to answer. 

So you take the chain for what it is: resignation. Eviction. 

It feels like you shouldn’t be here anymore. Like you’re an intruder in a sacred space. Like maybe you shouldn’t have even made it in, but he just hadn’t had the time to axe your thumbprint from the system yet. 

You need to leave. That much is clear. But here, stranded in the sky, you don’t exactly have a getaway plan. 

Without the leverage of Caleb’s love, you doubt Liam would take too kindly to being threatened again, just hours after the first time. 

As fruitless minutes tick by, it’s clear that waiting is your only option. But as you curl up in the center of the bed, chest heaving with labored breaths, you no longer anticipate Caleb’s return. 

When your eyes blink open in the dead of night, you know he’s there before you see him.

The air in the room feels different. Heavy and charged, like just before a thunderstorm. 

Anything could happen when you face him. But he’s deprived you of so much lately, that at least something would. 

Shoving the thought to the front of your mind for motivation, you raise your head to find him in the darkness of the room, lit only by a lone streetlight. 

And the sight of him makes your stomach drop.

Caleb, uniform torn and tattered, slumps against the wall closest to the bed, eyes closed and head lowered. 

A smear of blood paints his cheek, and as you zero in on it, you notice the eyebags so dark they look like bruises. Like he hasn’t slept in days. 

But even with his eyes closed, you should know by now that you don’t have the time to ogle him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispers hoarsely. 

“Where else would I go?” 

And those violet irises find yours. 

“Do you regret it? That you have nowhere else to go?” he asks softly, bloodshot gaze searching your huddled form. Checking, like he always did. 

No is your immediate answer. But you figure you should ask him first. That way, when you say it, he might actually believe you. “What?”

“Do you regret what I’ve done to you?” he elaborates, voice dropping near the end. 

The explanation doesn’t help. “What have you done to me, Caleb?”

He winces at the phrasing, though he knows it’s not an accusation. 

Cocking his head cynically, he lets a hollow chuckle escape. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to go to that party. Guess that’s what I get for trying.” 

“What are you talking about?” you probe, shifting to the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong with you?” 

“What’s wrong with me,” he mimics, “is that I’m trying to stay away from you. For your own sake.” 

“You weren’t there to see it. Hung up in another room, or outside, or something. It was the only time I lost sight of you,” he recalls bitterly. “And this guy started mouthin’ off about how fucked it was for us to be together. Said I was sick for the things I must’ve done to you.” 

A sliver of understanding eases the tension in your muscles. But you need to hear it from him. “And you believed him?” you ask, eyeing him warily. 

“It wasn't him who I had to believe. I already knew. Have known, for a while now, no matter how much I tried to pretend I didn’t. The way I thought my hands deserved to touch you—it’s a sin, isn’t it? One you shouldn’t have to carry. That’s why I left—so you could live a life unburdened by me.” 

At his words, an all too familiar irritation stirs within you. Alongside sadness that he’d thought it best to feel this way alone. 

Pushing forcefully off the bed, you kneel between his knees, gripping his bloodied face between your hands. “Who said you had permission to leave?” you ask lowly, and you hear his voice in yours. 

“I asked you what happened that night,” you continue. “More than once. And I'd have listened if you told me. Would’ve been there to tell you that none of it mattered. But you said it was nothing—another way to protect me, I guess. And then you left me on my doorstep, wondering how I’d hurt you.” 

Caleb’s mouth drops slightly, but you don’t let him interrupt. “When you said you would try, you overlooked one thing. Part of trying is considering how I feel. Like when I saw your necklace—how do you think I felt? I thought…you didn’t want me anymore. That you’d decided I was too big a burden for you,” you breathe, and when your voice breaks at the end, Caleb covers your hands with his.

“If your sin involves me, you don’t get to live through it alone. You pulled away from me without wondering if I wanted to be complicit. If I wanted to share it with you. You don’t get to make me a victim without asking if I feel like one. And I never have.”

He freezes at that, gazing up at you imploringly. When he finds what he’s looking for, he turns his head slightly, lips brushing your wrist in a hesitant kiss. “I know—” he swallows. “I know you feel ashamed sometimes. Of being with me, now, when I was who I was to you. Even if you don’t want to be, when we go out together, I can feel it.”

“You’re right,” you nod simply, and he fails to stifle a choked gasp. “But I don’t let it change anything.”

Now, it’s Caleb’s turn to ask. “What do you mean?”

“Remember Marley?” you start softly, stroking his tousled hair. “Girl I used to play dolls with when you were too busy? She asked about us, too. And I told her the truth: we’re together, and we’re happy, and our story is ours. It’s not just your choice, Caleb. I’m with you because I want the same. I always have.” 

And as much as you know he wants to believe it, to accept it and move on, things were never that simple with him. 

“You don’t understand,” he murmurs shakily, returning your hands to your lap as if they’ve burned him. “I can't…I've only ever wanted to keep you safe. No matter who I had to be to you. And when you let me have you—how I want to, how I’d wanted to…I wasn’t strong enough to turn you away. I’m not strong enough to do what’s best for you,” he whispers with glistening eyes.

Slowly, gently, you reach out to him a second time. To splay a hand on his exposed chest, to get him used to the feeling of your touch again. 

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” you murmur, stroking your thumb against him. “Because I think you’re very strong.” 

“I thought you were strong when you saved me from those bullies in middle school. Still remember the black eyes you gave them. When I saw that…I thought you were a hero. And I wanted to be just like you.” Pausing, you lean down to kiss his collarbone, and though he shudders, you take his pleading gaze as a sign to continue. 

“I thought you were strong when Gran got really sick, and you had to do everything. Cooking, cleaning, taking me to school. And you did it with a smile.” Giving him one of your own, you cradle his flushed face in your hands, stroking his darkening cheeks tenderly. Violet eyes watch you with disbelief—a reflection of six months ago, when you’d entrusted your first kiss to him. 

“And when you kissed me back that first time? When I felt how much you wanted to, how you kept it bottled up inside you for so long—I thought you were so strong,” you whisper, mouth hovering over his. “You’ve always been strong, Caleb. It’s why I love you so much.”

In time with his sharp inhale, you press your lips to his. But as large hands flex against your sides, he doesn’t respond to your touch. 

So you press harder, deeper, as if your kiss will awaken what’s dormant within him: his molten, unabashed need for you. The need that holds purity in its paradox, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

And when you circle your hand around his throat, where his necklace once collared him in your name, Caleb kisses you back. 

It’s an exploratory kiss, but a passionate one. As if your reacquainted lips are making up for lost time. 

You guide him with the steady suction of your lips, and when you tug at his frayed lapel, Caleb takes the lead. 

His tongue surges into your mouth, reclaiming what he’d missed, and you moan at the welcome intrusion. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, backing away slightly. “Sometimes I just wonder…if you’d be better off without me.” 

“I wouldn't,” you soothe, pulling him in for a reassuring peck. “You’re a part of me. I want you wherever I am, whichever version of you will have me.”

“All of them,” he mumbles against you. “And then some.”

And as you slip his hand under your shirt, there’s no reluctance in his tender grasp. Like he belongs there. 

Soft strokes on your bare shoulder wake you as the sun rises. 

“I missed seein’ you like this,” murmurs the voice you’d missed just as much. 

“And whose fault is that?” you chide, cutting your eyes to glare up at him playfully. 

“Mine,” he concedes instantly. “All mine.”

“Mhm. Speaking of,” you begin, stepping out of bed gingerly. “If you’re going to be my Caleb, there’s one more thing you need to do. Close your eyes,” you instruct. 

And Caleb complies—something that’s come easy the past six months. 

The room is silent for a moment, with only the distant sounds of jet planes piercing the air. 

Then, a soft clink. 

And as the mattress dips with your return to him, Caleb lifts his head instinctively. And the cool surface of metal slips around his neck. 

As Caleb spares you a glance from the passenger’s seat, the apple charm on his dog tag glints in the sunlight. 

Row after row of familiar houses comes into view, but you seem calm, this time. Unburdened. 

With some compliments and exaggerated enthusiasm, Sarah had been more than happy to host another party. And you’d been more than patient as you’d encouraged Caleb to attend. 

He’d been cautious, at first, for obvious reasons. But you didn’t dare push. 

So as the date loomed closer, he’d decided to try. 

And when you cross the threshold hand in hand to a sea of curious faces, the tension he expects to compress his pulsing heart never comes.

Instead, something kinder blossoms: pure, weightless pride.

[ninikrumbs]

The look of love, the rush of blood

Sukuna x reader. est relationship. down bad Sukuna

BoyfriendSukuna wasn't clingy or needy. He's not the type to cry over a day without seeing you, nor is he the type to pester you with constant messages or calls about your where abouts and annoying you to come see him. A simple text about your plans for the day or even a post it note on the fridge -for the days you slept over which was almost everyday - was enough for him. He was possessive, but he can survive a day or two without you.

Or so he thought.

BoyfriendSukuna was dropping you off your best friends house for an impromptu sleepover. Your best friend just got dumped and now you need to be her shoulder to cry on or whatever. That was fine or at least it was until you mentioned that you didn't know when you'll be sleeping over his place cause apparently these things "take time" and are "unpredictable."

Surprising even himself, he didn't like that. He didn't like that at all. He realized if you weren't sleeping over his apartment, he'd usually crawl into your bed late at night. Still he thought it wasn't a necessity, that falling asleep next to you was a want not a need. Yet now that he doesn't have that option..

Vein throbbing, Sukuna can give your best friend tonight, but tomorrow you will be back on his bed where you belong.

You were saying your final goodbyes in front of his car window. Eyes bright and laced with a warmth he believes you only reserve for him, "Bye, Kuna! Ill give you updates everyday!"

He grits his teeth. Why did it sound like you were going on a month long cruise?

"Oi." He calls out before you could turn around.

Tilting your head, "Kuna?"

For a moment he kept quiet. Carmine eyes taking their time drinking you in, having his fill of you as if he won't see you for weeks. They snap to back to your pretty face, tracing every slope and curve. "Come closer, brat."

And you do which makes his lips curl a bit. Always so obedient for him.

With his left hand, his touch firm yet gentle on the back of your head as he pushes your face towards his.

Soft lips against his rough ones, kissing you long and fervently, devouring you whole in one kiss. He feels you melting into it, whimpering such pretty sounds into his mouth. The tension finally eases out of him and it takes everything in him to pull away.

"Ill pick you up tomorrow," He murmurs against your lips, breath mingling with yours.

You blink. Once. Twice, "But Kuna-"

He cuts you off with another kiss, but softer this time. Gentle even. "No buts, brat. Ill pick you up tomorrow evening at the latest. She gets no more than that. You can visit here everyday for all I care, but you're sleeping with me."

A knowing smile teases your lips, "Are you gonna miss me that much, Kuna?"

"Shut up." He grunts, rolling your eyes at how pleased you look.

You burst out laughing and he hates at how pathetically melts at the sound. How it makes his insides warm like some love sick fool.

After brushing a imaginary tear from your eye, you lean back to his face and press a soft kiss on his cheek. "Don't worry. Ill have one of our other friends sleepover tomorrow night."

"Whatever."

Your smile widens into a grin, "I'll just tell them my big bad boyfriend can't sleep without me."

"Don't you dare-"

You run towards the door before he could do anything, laughter ringing out the driveway. And the way you smile makes his chest tighten in the most pathetic way.

The moment you disappear from view. He groans, dragging a hand down his face.

Fuck.

He didn't realized he was so down bad that going home without you felt like a life sentence.

So pathetic. So damn pathetic for you.

[peachessndreamss]

Home is You

Summery : Bob's home from a mission and he's got something he needs to share.

Characters : Robert "Bob" Floyd x GN!Reader (No use of Y/N)

Warnings : Mention of canon typical threat and injury

Word count : 1.6K

A/N : I watched Topgun Maverick because I was sad and then I found my old TGM google docs and, well, here we are. Also, pleased to see Lew getting so much love after Thunderbolts *

peachessndreamss Masterlist l peachessndreamss ask box

For the thousandth time that morning you checked your phone, sighing softly when there were no new notifications. With frustration, you flipped your phone over so you couldn't see the screen, hoping that would stop the constant anxious gnawing in your stomach. 

You weren't usually one to stare longingly at your phone but today was different. Bob was due home, but he'd, and the rest of the returning service personnel, were put on no contact until they arrived back on the base, meaning, although you knew he would be home soon you had no way of knowing when that would be, and if he was still in one piece. 

The minutes of that day seemed to crawl by as you waited, waited and waited some more to hear from him. Although you weren't in a romantic relationship with Bob he was still one of the most important people in your life. He was your best friend and your love for him was so deep that you never wanted to think of your life without him in it. 

The morning had quickly flowed into the afternoon, and the hours of the afternoon were passing rapidly, every tick of the kitchen clock feeling like a hammer blow against your heart. You had been reading the fridge when his call finally came through, the vibration against the tabletop had you slamming the fridge door closed and dashing toward your phone. 

You managed to answer after only a single ring, your whole body flooding with relief at the sound of his voice. 

"Hey, it's me," he said when you answered the call. 

"I know," you said softly, “I’ve got caller ID,”

"Yeah sorry, I know," he replied with a soft laugh. 

A silence fell between the two of you as you struggled to work out what to say. Weeks of no contact always made space for a few awkward silences but it wouldn’t take long for the ice of time and distance to thaw and for things to be back to normal.

"Are you free to pick me up?" He asked after a few seconds. 

"Of course,” you replied quickly, already moving toward the front door, car keys in hand, “I can be there in about 30 minutes,". 

"Alrigh' I'll give the gate your details, see you soon,". 

The call ended as you stepped out of the door, the anxious feeling in your stomach had turned into butterflies as you sped toward the base, your hands trembling with the surge of adrenaline now coursing through you. It seemed no matter how many times he went away and came home again, the effect on you was the same. 

You managed to calm your breathing and your erratic heartbeat before you arrived at the main gates, you were let through the gate and drove up to the main block where you knew there would be others collecting loved ones. 

You parked and got out of your car, all around you there were families being reunited, children being hugged and swung around, wife's, girlfriends, boyfriends and husband's being held and kissed by returning service personnel and you felt somewhat out of place as you stood, alone, looking for him. 

You recognised a few faces from previous pickups, and you couldn’t stop the burn of tears in your eyes as you watched happy families coming together. 

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt as you scanned the crowd for him, finally catching sight of him, the late afternoon sun flashing off his glasses as he stepped out of a door off to the left hand side of the block, around his neck was the arm of a taller officer and the two of them were laughing. 

He saw you and his smile broadened, he waved, pulling away from his friend and breaking into a slow jog toward you, as soon as he was close enough you threw yourself into his arms and hugged him tightly. 

"Hey," you said softly, taking a deep breath and drawing the smell of him deeply into your lungs. 

"Hey yourself," Bob replied, giving you an extra squeeze. 

He heard you sniff as you fought harder against the tears burning eyes and forcing your throat closed. 

"No tears," he said softly as he released you from his embrace and looked at your face,  noticing the wobble in your bottom lip and the glassy look in your eyes, "me being home is supposed to be a happy thing". 

"I am happy,". 

"Okay so no tears or I'll get a complex,".

You let your eyes roam over his face, each of his features as familiar to you as your own face in the mirror. You noticed a scar on his forehead that hadn’t been there when he’d left, you reached up and brushed your thumb over the mark. 

"What happened?" You asked. 

Bob laughed softly, "I, uh, got on the wrong side of some cables and ended up on my face on the flight deck," he said, touching the silvery mark on his forehead. 

"As long as that's all it was," you replied, your whole body shivering at the idea of the type of risks he ran every time he went up in his jet. 

"I'll tell you about the near miss over dinner huh?" He teased, elbowing you gently.

"No thank you," you replied with a smile as the two of you started to move in the direction of your car. 

"Not even if I'm the hero of the story?" He asked as he climbed into the passenger seat. 

"Especially then," you said, "I like to imagine all you do when you're away is sit about and take no risks,". 

Bob laughed as you started the engine and pulled out of your parking space. On the drive back to your home you caught Bob up with anything and everything he missed while he'd been away and Bob told you a few things that he'd been up to, although a lot of details needed to be left out. 

You asked if he wanted to get a drink in town which he declined, you knew the local town would be full that evening with the returning crew, and understandably, Bob wanted a quiet evening. 

Once back at your home Bob stripped out of his boots and went to take a shower. The spare room of your home was always made up ready for him and a few comfortable outfits were hanging in the wardrobe. Once he’d changed into a faded blue t-shirt and grey sweatpants he came to find you in the kitchen. 

"You want me to cook or shall we order?" You asked as you got two bottles of cola from your fridge. 

"Uh, what would you cook?" He asked as you handed him a bottle and he popped the top off easily. 

"Well you know me," you joked, "pasta or, uh, pasta?". 

"I love pasta,". 

Bob almost ate himself into a coma before curling up on your sofa and dozing off, his head cushioned by his hands. His eyes were closed and there was a small smile on his face. 

"Can I tell you something?" He asked, not opening his eyes. 

"Sure, knock yourself out," you replied from the other sofa where you were feeling sleepy after all the hours of worrying you'd done earlier in the day. You had your own eyes closed, your head propped up on your fist.

"We went down, me and my pilot, something went wrong and we lost control. We were crashing into the water so we ejected, it was pretty textbook stuff but in those few seconds when I wasn't acting on pure instinct I think I realised something,". 

As he was talking you'd felt yourself getting more and more tense, each one of your muscles seizing up as you pictured him in a failing jet, working purely on instinct and adrenaline. Too scared to move but the only person who could do anything. Bob stifled a yawn before continuing.

"I was bobbing around in the water, waiting to get picked up, freezing cold but also getting burned by the sun and the only thing I could think about was you," Bob's eyes opened slowly and fixed his gaze on you. 

Although your eyes remained closed, he could see the tension in your body. 

"And then I thought to myself, if I died here, who would I leave behind? And it was you. You were the only thought I had out there, how much I wanted to see you one more time, tell you a joke and hear you laugh, that's all I could think about,"

Your heart was pounding in your chest and the sound of your blood pumping in your ears was almost deafening. Bob spotted the tremble in your hand that you wouldn’t have been able to hide if you’d tried. 

You opened your eyes and met his gaze, finding it sleepy but also clear, like the exhaustion was giving him clarity of thought. And while Bob could still feel the  sleep pulling on his mind, he needed to get his thoughts out while he had them in his head. 

"Can you come here please?" He asked as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. 

With an uncertain step you stood and moved toward him, coming to stand directly in front of him, in between his knees. He placed his hands on your hips and you touched your hands to his cheeks. 

"Out there I realised something," he said softly, looking deeply into your eyes, "I love you, and not just as my friend, as my everything,".

For the second time that day you felt your throat closing up as tears burned in your eyes and your bottom lip wobbled. Bob smiled as he reached up and touched his thumb to your trembling lip. 

"Don't cry," he whispered, "you'll give me a complex,". 

A/N : There's more where this came from, as well as some Rooster stuff if anyone still cares about Topgun 😆💀

[thechaotictheoryy]

Winterfall.

summary: Yunho doesn't know when the last time he didn't feel so much loneliness. You also experienced the same thing causing you to run away from home. What happens when the two of you meet in a small restaurant in the cold winter month of December, discovering that loneliness isn't forever.

pairing: reader x non-idol! Yunho

genre: (18+ minors dni), romance, smut, situational and emotional loneliness, strangers to lovers.

word count: 4,827.

warnings: deep conversation, talks of extreme loneliness, crying, Yunho is really sweet, making out, soft dom! yunho, dry humping, unprotected sex (don't do this lmao), oral sex (both receiving) fingering, slight hand kink, pet names (good girl, pretty girl, etc.), slightly slow sex, creampie, cockwarming.

song rec: Chroma Drift by Plave and Just For Two by Jey.

The snow was so crisp and white as Yunho made his way down the street. It was like any other night when he left the office, it was close to midnight and there were few people still walking around. Yunho’s stomach kept growling since the last thing he ate was a banana and some pretzels for lunch. He knew his roommate and best friend Mingi would scold him for that later since they worked in the same place but Mingi got off a little early today.

The familiar sign of Yunho’s favorite restaurant came into view. It was a simple hole in the wall place that he had found his freshman year of college when he moved to Seoul from Gwangju. It was ran by an old Chinese-Korean couple who moved to Seoul in the late 80s and they were really famous for their seafood jjampong. Yunho hadn’t been there in about two weeks now since work was driving him crazy but it was Saturday and he always ate there every Saturday, mostly by himself but sometimes with Mingi or some co-workers. As much as an extrovert Yunho was, loneliness always consumed him. 

Even with friends, his loneliness yearned for something that he couldn’t put into words and he felt bad about it. Mingi always tried to help him out but all his attempts seemed to fail because even when Yunho was physically present… he wasn’t mentally present. 

Yunho opened the door to the restaurant and the aroma of noodles and sour kimchi hit his nose. He loved this smell and he became rather cozy to him as weird as it may seem. 

“Ya! Where have you been?” Ms. Jung, one of the owners, yelled at him as soon as she saw him. 

“I’m sorry Ms. Jung, work has been consuming me” He chuckled. 

“Mhm, well have a seat and I’ll have Riku whip up a fresh bowel for you”

Yunho nodded, making his way to a table and sitting. He noticed Ms. Jung walked over to a girl in the back and handed her more kimchi while rubbing her head before walking away. He raised his eyebrow a little in curiosity. He had never seen you here before in all his 6 years of coming here. He practically knew most of the people who walked in and out this restaurant so how could he have missed you? 

“That’s Y/N” Ms. Jung said, breaking Yunho out of his thoughts and placing his bowl of hot noodles in front of him. “She just moved to Seoul a few weeks ago from Jinju,” she sighed. 

“Why the sigh?” 

“Mm, it’s not my business to tell but just know she doesn’t have the most fond memories of everything there which is why she moved up here” 

Yunho hummed and started eating his noodles. Ms. Jung smiled at him and patted his head before walking back to the kitchen. The restaurant seemed to empty out a little within the next fifteen minutes. Yunho was sitting there eating and looking through some emails on his phone. He caught himself looking in your direction a few times, more than he would like to admit.

One thing was that you were beautiful in his eyes. Too beautiful honestly for someone like him but that’s just what he thought. 

You also did the same without his knowledge, you were glancing at him a lot. To you, he was way out of your league. Someone so tall and handsome like him would never be interested in someone like you especially with how broken you were inside. Loneliness was destined to find you, just like your parents wished on you.

You moved here from Jinju to escape everyone. Your family and the terrible ex you dated for three years that you recently broke up with over eight months ago. You never had the best relationship with your parents because of high expectations they had for you, the blur definitely increased when you went and graduated from art school instead of going to a four year university. The stain in your relationship with them caused you and your little sister to also distant from each other. There was no hate from either of you but because she was being the child your parents wanted you to be, they glorified her more so it made you shut down. 

Your toxic relationship with your on and off boyfriend Jeonghan didn’t make it any better. The constant fights and cheating from his end just for him to apologize and make it so easy for you to come back took a mental toll over you. You knew you shouldn’t have ended it after the first time he degraded you and cheated but you hated being alone. You finally ended it when all your emotions boiled over and you leashed out on him. You knew the relationship was making you toxic and depressed plus the bad relationship with your parents so you decided to move three hours away to Seoul. 

You heard a chair move and you looked up. Yunho walked to the counter and handed Mr. Jung his bowel, he tried to pay for it but Ms. Jung kept insisting that it was on the house so he left something in the tip jar while they still scolded him. It made you smile a bit and you automatically knew he had to be coming here for a while for them to act like that towards him. As Yunho made his way out, you and him made slight eye contact which made him slightly bow at you with a small smile and you bowed a little at him. 

The bells rang on the door as he walked back out into the winter snow. 

Little did he know that his small gesture towards you made warmth flow through your heart. 

A week passed till Yunho found himself back in The Jungs’ restaurant again. This time it was empty except for the two older men who were almost  finished with their bowels at a table near the back. He turned his head and saw you eating near the window. You didn’t notice him yet but he smiled a little, walked to a table near the register. As on queue, a hot bowl of seafood jjampong was in front of him with pickled radish. Work really has been stressing him out and Mingi bringing home random hook ups when he was trying to catch up on sleep didn’t help. 

“She’s been looking for you,” Ms. Jung said quietly, walking next to him. 

“Mm, why?”

“Who knows, I just always see her look towards the door every time she’s here then gets a little disappointed by closing time. I think you should talk to her” 

She walked away before Yunho could tell her that would be impossible. It was impossible because of how stunning you were and he would make a complete fool of himself. Yunho hasn’t been with someone in years and you deserved someone who didn’t drown in his work to cure somewhat of his loneliness. Yunho had looked in your direction again and saw you were gone. He didn’t even notice that you had left but he let out a sign, finishing up his bowel. 

He thanked The Jungs and left for the journey to his apartment. It was very cold tonight and the wind was blowing slightly to add on. He wrapped his scarf around his neck a little tighter as he walked. A few blocks down as he passed the park, he heard someone crying and paused. His eyebrows raised and he slowly walked, eyes searching for the person who was crying. He saw a figure on the bench and made his way over, he felt very bad because the cries were like heartbreaking sobs. 

“Are you okay?” He asked as he approached. You turned your head slowly to look up at him and his eyes widened as he realized who you were. 

“I’m fine,” you looked down and sniffed. 

You heard a bag drop and the bench become a little heavier with weight. You turned your head a little and saw Yunho sitting but looking straight, crossing his arms. 

“You don’t have to share but it’s dark and I can’t let a girl sit out here alone” 

Your chest felt that warmth go through it again. You knew he was only doing as a good person but something about him made the winter not feel so cold tonight. You looked straight and sighed, sniffling. You both sat in silence for about ten minutes till you decided you could speak without breaking down. 

“I.. I just got a call from my parents that my sister passed to get into a college in America” 

“Oh that’s great, isn’t it?”

“Not exactly,” you sighed. “My parents called to praise her and tell me how useless I was to them. They were glad when they heard I moved away so they wouldn’t have to deal with their failure anymore” 

“That’s horrible, I’m sorry” Yunho said. You looked at him and saw concern in his eyes, it shocked you just a little bit because you never saw that from anyone in your life. 

“It’s nothing new but what's upsetting is the fact they sent me three million won and told me to stay out their life,” you teared up. 

You felt yourself about to break down again until felt arms around you and the warmth from a strong chest. It took you a minute to realize Yunho was hugging you. He also didn’t know what came over him but seeing such a pretty girl like you in tears and being degraded and pushed away like you were nothing made him sad with an overwhelming feeling of rage but he didn’t want you to notice. He couldn’t believe someone could do this to their daughter. Once you seemed to calm down a little, he pulled away and you could see his ears were a bit red. 

Cute. 

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t–”

“It’s okay I needed that” you smiled. 

“I’m Yunho by the way, should have said my name first” he awkwardly rubbed his neck. 

“Y/N” you nodded. 

“It’s freezing and you should get inside” he stood up. “Let me walk you home” 

“It’s okay” 

“I insist and I would feel terrible if something happened to you” 

You eventually agreed and you both set off to your apartment complex. There was small talk on the ten minute walk there, just about where he was from and where you both worked. You weren’t surprised when he said he worked for a tech company, he just looked the type to do so. That also explained why you always see him at the restaurant so late but he also learned that you worked at a cafe that closed around 9pm which is why you were always at the restaurant late also. 

You two made it in front of your building and he wished you a nice night and started to walk away. You didn’t want him to leave just yet so you said something that the last person who heard broke your heart into pieces.

“Do you want to come up for a drink?” 

He turned and looked at you, a little shocked. 

“Um.. are you sure? We just met” 

“I’m sure” you smiled. 

Your smile was going to be the death of him. 

He followed behind you as you walked up the stairs to your apartment and looked away when you put in your code to get inside. Once he stepped inside, the smell of cinnamon hit his nose. He looked around after taking off his shoes and scarf. Your home was cozy and clean, if anyone came here they would feel right at home. 

“You can go sit in the living room, I’ll be right there” you walked into the kitchen. Yunho slowly walked into the living room and sat on your couch. He noticed your bookcase filled with tons of books and CDs, he smiled at it. He also noticed your blank canvas on the counter with an apron with paint stains all over it. 

You walked in with two shot glasses and a case of soju with two beers, setting it on the table. He gulped at the sight and you could feel his nervousness. 

“We don’t have to drink all of it, I just felt lazy to keep walking back and forth” you reassured him, sitting beside him. 

“Okay, sorry it’s been a while since I've been alone with a girl” He regretfully admitted. “I know that sounded pretty lame” 

“Not at all” you shook your head, pouring both shot glasses with soju. You gave him his glass and bumped it with yours, both of you taking the shot together. 

“You live alone?”

“Yeah I can’t do the whole roommate thing” 

“Lucky,” he chuckled. 

“You have one?”

“Mhm, my best friend Mingi. We met back in middle school and wouldn’t trade him for the world but sometimes he can be a bit much” 

“Can’t all best friends be?” you both laughed at that. 

Your laugh was like a hidden melody that he wanted to keep hearing. Seeing you smile was something he hoped he got to see you do more if this night turned out on a good note and he left here as your friend because he knew you needed one. 

“Do you have a best friend?” He asked but by the look on your face after you let the question settle and honestly thought he shouldn’t have asked. 

“No, I was always a loner and people who became my friend only used me in the end” You took another shot and sipped some beer with it, looking out your window. Yunho looked at another shot also and sighed a little. 

“We have to make new memories in your life here” 

“We?” you looked at him. 

“You know?” He blushed a little. “We could be friends and I could introduce you to some of my friends, they are bit annoying but they grow on you I promise” 

He was very cute to you, rambling. You don’t know if you could possibly get close to other people again. All the trust in you was almost gone and never to return. Your family betrayed you, the man you thought you would marry someday made you feel worthless, and all the fake friends who didn’t care if you were alive or not. 

“I don’t know, I probably wouldn’t fit in and my lack of trust might cause me to be distant” 

“You can trust us”

You stared at him and he stared at you. You know you never really took in how tall and handsome he was, he really looked like he could be in someone's magazine. His broad shoulders and long legs, his big brown eyes, his lips that looked so soft to the touch, and his hands…. Wow he had huge hands. 

“Yunho?”

“Mm?”

“Have you ever felt lonely?” 

“All the time” He crossed his arms. 

“When did it start?” 

“Mm, probably not till I hit college. My relationship with my parents was a little rocky but we got along till I hit college then it felt like we started talking less but I didn’t really have much to say anymore… I think that’s why I had a few flings in college to help me cope a bit with being lonely. I tried to go on dates, I just couldn’t feel anything or no one really seemed worth dealing with” 

Emotional and situational loneliness is what Yunho felt and you were also the same. Maybe him finding you sobbing your eyes out wasn’t such a bad outcome because you were still in presence, soaking it in. He poured another shot and downed it right away like it took him a lot to even express that to you. Yunho wasn’t one to open up to people too quick but you made him.. comfortable. 

“How about you?” He asked, hesitantly. 

You sipped some of your beer and told him about your ex-boyfriend plus the relationship with your family. He listened carefully and every detail made him feel sad because you don’t deserve how lonely you are. You felt like he was going to say he was sorry but you didn’t want to hear any more sorrys from him because nothing is his fault for how you were. 

“I do have a question”

“Mm?” you raised an eyebrow. 

“If your trust is so low, why did you invite me in?” 

You blinked at him then looked down, starting to blush. With the amount of alcohol you were consuming you felt you couldn’t hide anything but you also were embarrassed that you craved him so much that you invited him in on impulse. You took another shot and hissed at the small burn. 

“I just find you.. interesting, also you sat with me so this is just like me repaying you” 

“Mm, okay” He finally opened his beer, taking a gulp. 

You didn’t know why you felt so warm like yes it was somewhat the alcohol but also the way Yunho kept looking at you with low lid eyes even though it was just from the shots made you feel some type of way. 

You really really wanted to kiss him. 

“You can,” he said. 

“Huh?” 

“You said you wanted to kiss me” He chuckled. 

“I-I didn’t mean to” you felt the blush start to creep up everywhere. 

“So you don’t want to?” He moved a little closer. 

You looked at him and he was so much closer than you anticipated that you could smell the mint mixed with soju and beer on his breath. You looked at his lips then back to his eyes, his hand found your cheek and rubbed it. With slight hesitation, you leaned forward and kissed him. He kissed back, letting out a sigh like he had been waiting for this and you could help but smile into it. His tongue poked your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, letting him in. His tongue explored every corner, rolling onto your tongue. You moaned a bit, gripping the couch trying to ground yourself. 

“You can touch me,” he said against your lips, pecking them repeatedly and voice just a bit deeper. It made your core feel even hotter and you could feel yourself getting wetter. 

“Yunho” You whined a bit as he kept kissing you. 

“Yes, pretty?” 

“I need more” He pulled away slightly, looking at you. His eyes were filled with lust and…desire maybe. It was like you were the only thing that mattered to him right here at this moment. 

Honestly after tonight, Yunho doesn’t know if he can let you go. 

He pulled you on his lap and you straddled him with knees on both sides. He gripped your hips as you pushed your lips back on his. Yunho had never been this forward but it was something about you, he wanted to show you that you deserve happiness and to be loved on even if it’s just for tonight. 

Even if you wake up tomorrow to the snow higher than it was today and decide you don’t want to be around him anymore, at least he was able to show you for the night that you are desired. 

You pulled away to take off your hoodie and shirt to come off with it, that left you in a black lace bra that made Yunho’s dick twitch. You unhooked your bra, letting your boobs fall and he immediately took a nipple in his mouth, worshipping while pulling on the other. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, it had been a long time since you been touched like this so you were super sensitive everywhere. He licked around your nipple, trailing up to your neck. 

Sucking.

Biting. 

You rolled your hips down on his lap and it made him groan softly. You were driving him mad and he wanted to take his time with you but he didn’t know how long he could keep going without him being inside of you. You pushed him back a little, climbing down and spreading his knees apart. 

“Oh fuck” He said in a whisper. This sight of you was making his head spin. You slowly unbuttoned his dress pants and pulled them down along with his boxers. Your eyes widened at his size, he was the biggest you ever seen. 

“You can handle it, right pretty girl?” 

You blushed at that, nodding. You softly held his dick with both hands because he was super thick and slowly started to pump. His reaction made your arousal even higher, you took him in your mouth as much as you could. He let out a low groan and his hand resting on the back of your head as you kept bobbing up and down. 

“Oh f-fuck” His eyes rolled back a bit before he looked at you. You looked up at him as you stunk down, taking him deeper but trying to make sure you don’t gag. His hand gripped your hair a little as he trembled, you could tell he was reaching his point but you didn’t want him to cum just yet, not from this. You pulled off, stroking him and he let out a small whine. 

“W-Why?”

“I would prefer it better if you cum while inside me” you smiled innocently at him. 

Yunho groaned lowly, standing up and picking you up bridal style. You blushed a bit and was a little shook from him manhandling you but you pointed to your room. He kissed you while walking to your room, opening the door slowly so he wouldn’t drop you. He laid you on your back on your queen sized bed. You sat up on your elbows as he took off his button up and you started to drool a little at the sight of his toned stomach and his broad shoulders. 

And my god you couldn't wait for his large hands to touch you again.

Yunho was always a little self conscious about his body because he wasn’t that muscular and didn’t have abs but the way you were looking at him, he knew that didn’t matter to you. He laid in between your legs after kicking off his pants and boxers, he kissed you deeply and his fingers made their way down to your sweatpants. 

“Is this okay?” He said against your lips. You nodded and he kissed down your chest to your stomach as he pulled down your sweats along with your panties. He threw them on the floor and moved down, kissing your pelvic bone before making eye contact with your wet lips. He moaned at the sight and you spreaded out your thighs more to give him more room, your gesture made him want to combust. 

“You’re so wet” he ran his finger down your folds then looked at you. “All of this for me?”

“All of it,” you nodded. 

Yunho smirked at that a little, testing the waters and pushing one finger inside of you. You gasped and threw your head back against the pillow. Yunho’s finger was long and kind of thick so it stretched you out a little and he immediately found the spongy spot inside of you. His mouth found your clit, licking it up and down while pushing another finger in. 

“Oh god, Y-Yunho” you moaned loudly. He hummed, the vibration going straight to your clit. He pumped his fingers a little faster and harder, hitting that sweet spot over and over again. You felt that tight knot in your stomach and it was ready to let go. He pulled his fingers out and licked over your pussy one time before moving back and kissing you, making you taste yourself. You moaned a little and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

Yunho grabbed his dick, pumping it a little before sliding it in between your folds to lubricate it. You moaned at the feeling and squirmed a little when his tip would bump into your clit. 

“Are you sure about this?” He asked. 

“A little too late to be hesitant considering how far we have come Yunho” you giggled at him. 

“I-I know. I mostly talking about the no condom part” 

“I’m on a pill and clean, I’m okay with it” you reassured him, pecking his lips. 

He nodded and slowly pushed into you, knocking the air out of your lungs as he filled you up. He moans as he continues, finally bottoming out. He paused so you could adjust to his size, he didn’t want to hurt you by any means. 

“Y-You can move”

He pulled out till his tip was just in and pushed back in a little harder. You let out a little scream at that and gripped his back, he moved at a slow yet deep pace. You could feel all the ridges and veins on his dick and it just made you wetter. 

“God you’re so perfect. Taking me so well like a good girl” He said in your ear. 

“Y-Yunho” you whimpered. 

“What? You like when I tell you how good you are for me, pretty girl?” He licked your ear, moving at a faster pace. 

So pretty. 

So perfect. 

You deserved to be loved like this all the time. 

His words were making you close to the edge but also close to crying. Your ex never talked you through it like this, he never made you feel wanted like this. You felt the tears start to spill over and Yunho looked at you with concern, he started to slow down his pace.

“N-No, keep going” you gripped his back. “Please, I need it I need you Y-Yunho”

“You got me baby” He moved deeper and harder. 

“God you’re so deep” you moaned. You felt that band snap in you and your orgasm crushed into you like a tidal wave. Yunho kissed you through, lifting your leg around his hip to push deeper. The overstimulation immediately kicked in and you loved it. 

“F-Fuck” 

“Can you give me one more pretty? I’m so close I need you clench around my dick like that one more time” 

He started to pump faster into you and you could feel all of him in your guts, it made you whimper and claw at his back but it felt so damn good that your second orgasm was creeping up faster than you anticipated. 

“Y-Yunho” 

“I got you, let go baby. You deserve this beautiful” He kissed your temple as you let go for the second time and he followed behind, stilling in you then moving a bit to carry you through both your highs. He was about to pull out till you locked your other leg around his waist. 

“Hold me for a while please” you buried your head in his neck. He smiled a little and nodded, repositioning you both so he didn’t slip out of you but you were now laying on his chest as he laid on his back. 

The birds chirping and sunlight coming through your window woke you up. You groaned and stretched your body out, you tried to feel for Yunho but just felt the coldness of the sheets. You set up in a panic and noticed you were in a large t-shirt and you didn’t feel sticky. 

You got out of your bed and walked into the living room, there was no sign of him and his stuff was gone. You sighed and sat on your couch, you knew it was all too good to be true.

You turned your head to the door as you heard a code being put in and the door opened up with Yunho holding a tray with two coffees and a bag of food. You teared up a little bit as he walked over after slipping off his shoes. 

“Are you okay?” He quickly put the food and drinks down, pulling you into a hug. 

“I thought you just up and left me” you wrapped your arms around his waist. 

“Never pretty” He rubbed your head and you looked up at him. He flashed you a smile then pecked your lips. 

“Don’t scare me like that” You punched him playfully. He chuckled and sat down beside you, handing you a coffee. 

“Sorry I didn’t want to wake you up but I ran back to my place to change clothes then I thought you might be hungry once I got back. I should have left a note” 

“It’s okay, the coffee saved you” you sipped some more. He laughed and pulled out an egg and cheese breakfast sandwich and handed it to you. 

“So does that mean you want to see me more?” He asked. 

“Yeah” you blushed. “Do you want to see me more?”

“I don’t think I can ever let you go Y/N” 

Who knew someone like him would want someone like you in this cold winter? 

[anything-pov]

some more mother Emily stuff please

Maybe y/n is slightly ill

Emily comes home from being on a two week long case and sees them falling asleep while folding laundry and taking care of child so Emily decides to take child out to the park or something while y/n get some well needed to rest

Comes back home take care of all the chores puts child to bed

Cuddle up with y/n

Fluffy dovey lovey stuff

Enjoy!

When You Get Home

- - -

The door creaked open just after 5, Emily stepping over the threshold with her go-bag slung over her shoulder. Her suit jacket was folded over her arm, her hair back, and exhaustion clinging to her skin.

Two weeks on a joint task force out of state, too long without her partner, too long without her boys. She shut the door softly, locking it behind her.

The living room was dimly lit by soft afternoon sun filtering through the curtains, there was the faint scent of laundry detergent in the air.

The TV played low in the background, something animated. She heard soft giggles. Then…

“Mommy!”

“Mommy!”

Twin tornadoes of joy hurtled toward her. Alec and Theo, four years old and chaos personified, each with mismatched socks and superhero t-shirts, collided with her legs and arms in a tackle hug.

Emily bent immediately, her bag falling forgotten to the floor as she knelt and wrapped them up tight. “My boys,” she whispered, kissing their cheeks one after the other.

“I missed you both so much!”

A rustle caught her attention from the couch. Emily’s head turned, and her heart dropped. Y/N Y/L/N, her partner, her best friend, the love of her life, was curled awkwardly at the end of the couch.

A mountain of clothes needing to be folded, their hands sluggish and trembling, their cheeks were flushed with fever, strands of hair stuck to their temple.

They blinked heavily, as though it took effort to stay awake. There were tissues on the coffee table, and a half-drunk mug of tea forgotten beside them.

Y/N smiled weakly, “I… hi, baby,” they rasped. “I was trying to clean up. The boys were running circles all day, and laundry kept piling up…”

Emily crossed the room in seconds. She knelt next to her partner, brushing the damp hair from Y/N’s forehead. “You’re sick, love,” she said gently, “Why didn’t you call your mom to help?”

Y/N gave her a sheepish shrug, “Didn’t wanna bother her. You were gone. I thought I could manage. I’m okay, just… just tired.”

Emily pressed a kiss to their forehead, already feeling the heat radiating from their skin. “Y/N. You are allowed to rest. Let me take over now, okay?”

“But the laundry-”

“I’ve got it,” Emily promised, “All of it. Right now, you’re going to bed.” Y/N blinked hard, lips trembling like she might argue, but Emily was already helping her stand.

Y/N leaned into her with a sigh, whispering a soft, tiny, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Emily murmured, wrapping her arm around them, “You’ve done everything… let me do the rest.”

Once Y/N was tucked beneath the blankets, humidifier humming, fever medicine given and a cool cloth set on her forehead, Emily turned back to the living room where the twins were currently scaling the couch like a mountain.

“Boys,” she called gently, “how about we go on an adventure?” Both heads whipped toward her. “A park adventure?!” Theo asked, his eyes wide.

“Maybe even… ice cream?” Emily grinned, her smile ear to ear. Alex gasped, “Mommy, you just got home! We can really go?”

“We really can. But only if you help me put on your shoes.”

- - -

Within minutes, Emily was carrying a small backpack with snacks, wipes, and water bottles, her old BAU instincts turning domestic.

The twins were bundled in light jackets, and they set off, hand on hand toward the neighbourhood park.

They laughed on the swings, raced across the grass and climbed the jungle gym while Emily stood beneath it like a bodyguard.

“Good job!” and “Feet first, Theo!” would scream every few minutes as she watched them with a smile.

Afterward, when the boys were tired, they sat in the sun, each of them holding a single scoop of chocolate in a cup. Emily wiped their sticky faces and kissed their heads, her heart aching in the best way.

On the walk home, both Alex and Theo started yawning, leading Emily to carrying both on either arm for the last block.

- - -

Once home, Emily gave the twins a bath, using the bubble soap Y/N always bought because it, “smelled like calm.” They splashed, argued about toys, and asked if Y/N was okay.

“They’re resting…” Emily told them, towelling them dry. “And they’ll feel better soon. But they miss you both very much!”

Theo pressed his hand to his heart, “I miss Mama too.” Emily tucked them into their twin beds, kissed their cheeks and read two short books before they drifted off.

Then… laundry. She returned to the pile on the couch, folding small shirts, unmatched socks and tiny pants while a crime documentary played quietly in the background.

It was oddly meditative.

Kitchen next. Dishes were stacked, counters wiped, bottles cleaned and put away. By the time she turned off the last light, the house had gone still.

Emily padded into their bedroom, stripping down to an old t-shirt before crawling into bed beside Y/N. Y/N stirred with a soft breath, “You did everything… didn’t you?”

Emily slid an arm around them, pulling them close, “Just catching up.” Y/N burrowed into Emily’s chest, legs tangling with hers. “Fever still here,” they murmured.

“I know,” Emily whispered, kissing their damp temple, “I’ll be here all night. Holding you through every degree of it… right here…” Y/N sighed as Emily shifted to make sure they were comfortable.

“I missed you,” Y/N said softly. “I missed you too,” Emily returned.

[jinjoohaa]

TOJI X READER !!!

Pairing - Toji fushiguro x reader (dad's friend! AU)

Under His Roof

Content Warnings (Please Read): Age gap, Power imbalance, Manipulation, Overstimulation , Corruption kink, Edging, Orgasm Denial, Degrading talk, Jealousy sex, First time sex, Size kink, Fingering, Grinding, Dry humping , Possessiveness/Obsession, Breeding kink, Spanking/Discipline, Biting / Marking, Angst & emotional manipulation, Soft/dom moments later on, Minors DO NOT INTERACT (18+ ONLY)

prev chapter

Chapter 15 - Final chapter

A few weeks passed. Quietly.

Too quietly.

Things with Toji had gotten strangely better now. No anger. No outbursts. No dragging you by the wrist or shutting you up mid-sentence. Just this unnerving calm.

Toji still came around—same old bottle in hand, same lazy smirk when your dad greeted him at the door. Usual stuff.

It was finally getting normal. Peace. Comfortable.

And that's when it happened.

---

The air felt a little too still when you opened the front door.

The hallway smelled faintly of bleach, like someone had scrubbed too hard in a hurry.

You hadn’t expected your dad to call you home with such urgency.

“Just come after class,” he’d said, his tone weirdly serious, almost guilty.

You thought maybe he’d found out something. Maybe he’d seen something between you and Toji he wasn’t supposed to.

Your heart had been racing all the way home—but nothing could’ve prepared you for what was actually waiting.

Toji was already there.

Of course he is.

Sitting on the couch. Casual. At ease. One leg over the other, a drink in his hand, eyes locked onto you the moment you stepped in.

And that damn smirk.

“You’re here,” your dad said, standing up from the dining table where a few papers were spread out.

“Come sit. We need to talk.”

Your gaze flicked between the two men. “Why is he here?” you asked, voice sharper than intended. “This is family stuff, isn’t it?”

Toji chuckled low. “I’m practically family, aren’t I?”

Your dad nodded, completely missing the undertone in Toji’s voice.

“He’s been helping me with a lot lately. I thought it’s best he’s here too.” He patted the seat next to him.

You sat—reluctantly. Toji didn’t take his eyes off you. Not for a second.

There was something territorial in the way he looked at you, like he was already claiming what wasn’t officially his yet.

Your dad inhaled, like he was bracing himself.

“I got transferred,” he said. “To another city. Bigger role. I start next month.”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

“I tried to see if they could make any adjustments, but...” he sighed. “It’s too good of an opportunity to turn down.”

A million thoughts rushed through your head. “Okay but—what about me? I can’t leave. My college is here—”

“I know, sweetheart. That’s why we thought you’d stay.”

Your heart stopped. “We?”

Toji’s voice slid in, calm and slow. “Your dad and I had a long talk. Makes sense for you to stay here. I’ve got space. And you’re comfortable with me, right?”

You looked at your dad like he’d lost his mind. “But dad—!?"

Your dad gave a tired smile. “It’s only for a year or two. Toji’s house is close to your college, you won’t have to move or adjust. He’ll take care of you.”

Your stomach turned. “I—I can take care of myself. We shouldn't bother him like this," you said to your dad.

“You’re still young, kiddo. You need someone looking out for you. I can’t just leave you alone in an apartment.” His tone turned gentle. “I trust Toji. More than anyone.”

“Dad—” you tried, a crack in your voice.

Toji leaned back, watching the whole thing like a show. “I don’t mind,” he said casually, swirling the ice in his glass. “But only if she wants to, of course.”

The mockery in his tone wasn’t missed. You flinched, chest tightening.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you whispered. “I’ll figure something else out—rent a place, maybe stay at a dorm—”

“Dorms are full this year,” your dad cut in. “And you know how much hassle it is to rent, especially for students. I don’t want you living with strangers.”

You tried to speak again, but Toji's voice cut through, smooth and sure.

“She’ll be safe with me. I’ll treat her like my own.”

The way he said it—low, almost amused.

Your dad nodded. “It’s settled then. I already talked to your aunt, and she agrees. No one’s better suited for this.”

You stared down at your lap, throat dry, mind racing.

Toji raised his glass slightly in your direction. “Looking forward to having you, kid.”

That smirk again.

You didn’t say a word. You couldn’t.

There's no room for argument.

Part of you was kinda okay with it, since you won't have to live in fear of dad finding out anymore.

But still, something was bothering you. An uneasiness.

Like the ground beneath your feet had tilted ever so slightly and no one else noticed.

---

You didn’t sleep that night. You kept hearing the echo of Toji’s words over and over in your head.

“She’ll be safe with me.”

Safe.

What a joke.

The sheets felt too warm. Your skin too tight. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of wind outside made you flinch.

You caught him alone the next day, in the garage while he helped your dad move some boxes. You didn’t even know why you were trying—you just had to say something. Anything.

“Toji… I—” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned to you slowly, eyes narrowing as he wiped his hands off with a rag. “Hm?”

You hesitated. Swallowed the lump in your throat. “I-I don’t think this is… fair. You… you can’t just—just treat me like—”

“Like what?” he interrupted, voice calm but laced with warning.

“Like something that already gave in to me more than once? Don’t act innocent now. We've already come into an agreement. I take care of you. You stay mine. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less."

Your lips parted, no words coming out.

He was right. In that quiet, twisted way of his—he always was.

“You having second thoughts now?” He stepped closer, cornering you against the wall with that same terrifying gentleness.

You gasped softly and shook your head.

“Say it,” he murmured. “Go on. Say you want to back out. That you want me to stop.”

You couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t.

Toji smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

He walked away like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just confirmed that you were already his.

---

Later that week, your dad finalized the move. Boxes left the house one by one, furniture packed, and your own bags slowly transferred to Toji’s place—room by room. There was no ceremony. Just resignation.

When your dad hugged you goodbye, he smiled with so much trust in his eyes. “Call me if anything, alright? And listen to Toji. He’s doing me a huge favor.”

You only nodded.

And then he was gone.

Toji was waiting at his place when you arrived with the last of your things.

Leaning against the doorframe with that same bottle of whiskey in his hand, he watched you carry your bag in like a pet who finally gave up running.

“Welcome home, princess,” he drawled. “Did a little something for you.”

You didn’t want to see it—but you had to. So you walked to the room he had set aside for you.

Soft lighting. Fresh sheets. The room smelled like cedarwood and something deeper, warmer. His scent. The bed was neatly made—maybe too neatly.

Your eyes fell on the nightstand. A single collar sat on top of it. Jet black. Plain. No tags.

You froze.

"Could try it when we. . . . y'know. . ." he grins.

Toji’s hand brushed over your lower back, slow and heavy.

“I like order,” he said, right near your ear. “I like my things where they belong. Now you’re under my roof.”

You turned to look at him, trembling slightly.

He was still calm—too calm. "No lies. No running. Yeah?"

“Toji—” you whispered.

He tilted your chin up with his fingers. "Hmm? We're gonna be happy, don't we?"

Your heart pounded. You didn’t nod. You didn’t shake your head.

You didn’t resist either.

Toji stepped back with a satisfied smirk. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

And as he left, you stood there in the center of his room—your room now—realizing you weren’t scared of what he might do anymore.

You were scared of what you might let him do.

---

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months.

By the time summer faded into fall, you and Toji had settled into a rhythm—your own quiet, twisted domestic life under one roof.

At first, everything was a little hard. You walked on eggshells, unsure when he might snap, scared of what he’d do next.

But something changed.

Maybe it was the satisfaction of finally having you under his control. Or maybe Toji had simply grown comfortable knowing he didn’t need to force anything anymore.

You were his now. Completely.

Your days started the same: breakfast in the quiet kitchen, sometimes made by him, sometimes by you—depending on how tired or sore you were from the night before.

You'd attend your classes during the day, headphones in, face down, living your college life like any other girl.

And when the clock hit the late afternoon, you'd always get that text from him: “Come home soon.”

Evenings were quiet. Toji worked out, showered, occasionally read the newspaper or watched TV. You’d cook if he asked, sometimes he helped you prep. It almost felt… normal.

He’d take you out sometimes—grocery shopping, walks through quiet neighborhoods, or lazy ramen dinners on Sunday nights.

To the world, he was your guardian, an uncle, a family friend doing a favor for your dad and you were the quiet college girl staying with a guardian.

Innocent.

Proper.

But behind closed doors, it was different.

Every glance, every touch, every shared silence said more than words ever could. The possessiveness hadn’t gone away; it had just taken a softer form. He didn’t need to threaten anymore. You were already too deep, too worn in, too molded by his hands.

Toji never apologized for how it began. He never needed to. But he grew gentler. He stopped taking what he wanted so harshly. He started asking— though you both knew you’d never say no.

Some nights, he’d hold you tighter, covered you with soft tender kisses. Whisper things like, “Two years, huh? Guess I’ve got you all to myself until then,” as if daring fate to take you away.

You never responded. Just let his warmth surround you as you drifted off on the bed he “specially" made for you.

He gave you freedom in public. You could go out, shop with your friends, hangouts, be normal. But you always returned home.

Always opened your bedroom door to find him waiting, or feel his hand slip over your waist while you were brushing your teeth.

Because no matter what anyone saw…

You were his.

Entirely. Secretly. Quietly.

You shared his bed now, not just his body. He touched you like you were precious—but always his. He never let you forget that. Every kiss reminded you. Every touch said it.

"Two years will fly by," he murmured one night, arm slung lazily around your waist as you lay tucked against him.

You nodded. You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

Because you weren’t going anywhere.

And he wasn’t letting you.

And you finally started finding the comfort and safety in his arms again— the same which drew you into him in the beginning.

And you had two more years to go, and honestly, it's gonna be a mixed bag—some days you'd feel like you were getting the hang of this, and others you'd still be figuring out what you signed up for.

But one thing stayed the same: he always called you home.

And you always went.

The End.

.

[lachesismoonmist]

I've Been Watching You - Chp 5

Furries, Hot Babe, Cheese Scrambled Eggs

Rating: Mature. Minors dni

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook / Reader

Words: Total: 73k

Status: Complete. 5 out of 26

Summary There's a hot new guy in the gym. You can't keep your eyes off him, and it seems he can't keep his off you either. What starts out as Friends-with-Benefits turns into something a lot more complicated as your past comes back to haunt you and you find out your best friend's long-kept secret.

Originally posted on AO3

MY MASTERLIST

Chapter 5 - Furries, Hot Babe, Cheese Scrambled Eggs

I woke up with a start, disoriented as to where I was. I saw moonlight stream in from some tall glass windows, and I felt a warm arm resting on my waist.

I shifted slightly to turn towards the source of the warm breath I felt on my hair. “Jungkook” I breathed, mesmerized by how beautiful and peaceful he looked in sleep. How deep his breathing was, and how he’d snore a little now and then.

It was so tempting to just snuggle against him and go back to sleep. But I knew I couldn’t. I gingerly lifted his arm off me and slid ever so slowly away from him till his tattooed arm rested on the bed. He let out a slightly louder snore and I froze. But when he settled down, I tiptoed around the bed to retrieve my dress. The small clock on his desk read 04:00. I found a small note pad on the desk, so pulled off a piece as I searched for something to write with. I found a purple marker that was grape scented and giggled softly to find such a kiddy item on this big man’s desk. I scribbled on the note, folded it in half and left it on Jungkook’s nightstand.

My purse was sitting on the breakfast counter, and I shivered as I walked past the kitchen counter where Jungkook had eaten me out late last night. Or was it early this morning. I let myself out, closing the front door slowly with a soft “click”.

On the drive back home, I thought about the night's events. Having to fend off a drunk date. Showing up at Jungkook’s apartment with him looking like sin. Having mind-blowing sex. Falling asleep in his arms. There was just something about him that made me feel safe. That made me want to open up and let him in. It’d been four years, but I was afraid to go there. Afraid of what I might find waiting for me.

When I got home, I stepped into my bathroom to remove my make-up. Or what was left of my make-up. My reflection told me my lipstick was totally non-existent, but then my eyes almost popped out of my head.

There on my neck, was the largest hickey I’d ever seen. I touched it experimentally and hissed when I felt how sore the area was. And… were those teeth marks? I quickly stripped off my dress, and sure enough, there was another angry hickey on the left breast, just beside the nipple.

What the hell! I stepped into the shower, gingerly touching the tender area on my neck, moving to the side so that the spray from the shower was hitting my other shoulder. I made quick work of washing up, then sat on my bed in my fluffy bathrobe, my hair wrapped in a towel. I snatched my phone off my nightstand.

[Sexy Vet] You gave me a humongous hickey! And I think I see teeth marks! You’re lucky I can wear a tee or shirt with a high neck under my scrubs! This is going to take more than a week to fade! You are SOOOO going to pay for this Big Boy.

All my tiredness came rushing back then. I dropped my phone on my bed, lay down, and fell asleep.

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

Something was buzzing. Something nearby. I opened my eyes, saw my phone beside me, picked it up and blearily looked at the time. 10am.

[Hot Gym JK] Good morning to you too. Take it as punishment for not letting me try your cheese scrambled eggs for breakfast.

[Sexy Vet] The punishment is totally disproportionate to the crime! Besides, you did this before there was even any talk about breakfast!

[Hot Gym JK] Potay-toes, Potar-toes. Speaking of talk before breakfast, you left so quietly! Where did you go in the dead of night?

I racked my brain furiously for some kind of reason. [Sexy Vet] I had to go check on a patient of mine. The clinic is closed today since it’s a holiday. My staff gave me an update yesterday but I just wanted to go check.

[Hot Gym JK] Well, I woke up in an empty bed. I feel like the discarded boy toy, who only got left with a note that said “I had a great time, Tiger”.

[Sexy Vet] That is NOT what my note said!

[Hot Gym JK] Well, it might as well have been. ‘Thanks for the orgasms, Big Boy' isn’t much better! You’re welcome by the way. You haven’t seen my best work yet. You only had two.

I giggled but felt bad about slipping away before he woke up. I extended the olive branch. [Sexy Vet] Are you doing anything today?

[Hot Gym JK] No plans. Was going to go through my photo equipment and do some spring cleaning. But I’d welcome any excuse not to subject myself to such mind-numbing torture.

[Sexy Vet] Wanna come with me to my clinic in the afternoon? I’m going back in to check on a few furries. Then if you don’t mind having eggs for dinner, I’ll make you my cheese scrambled eggs.

[Hot Gym JK] Whoa. Furries. Hot babe. Cheese scrambled eggs? It’s ON. What time?

[Sexy Vet] 4pm? See you at the clinic.

[Hot Gym JK] Got it. See you later sweetness.

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

Stepping into the clinic always gave me that feeling of coming home. The way the sunlight streamed through the huge glass panel at the front, warming the light-colored pinewood floors. The light smell of geranium and rosewater from the diffuser that sat on the receptionist’s counter. The teal and amethyst color scheme of the furniture. It was during these quiet moments in the clinic that I felt like this was where I was meant to be.

I walked past my office to the back of the clinic where the current patients who needed treatment were staying. The patient I had mentioned to Jungkook was a very old chihuahua. He looked to be sleeping soundly at the moment. The resident tabby, Ginger, meowed at me from her perch near the ceiling in the cat tree that took up one corner of the long room.

I went over to clean out Ginger’s litter tray, then changed the water in bowls of a Golden Retriever and a Mini Schnauzer. For the two rabbits I changed out their straw so that my assistant wouldn’t have to when she came in the next morning. We also had one fuzzy Malti-poo, who was running around in circles in his pen, jumping and barking at me for attention.

“Hey, slow down Coco. You’re going to open up your stitches”. I took a chew from the bucket near the window and gave one to him. “That should keep you occupied for a while”.

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket.

[Hot Gym JK] Hey, I’m here outside the clinic.

[Sexy Vet] Be right there.

I walked back out to the front of the house, surprised when Ginger followed me. There he was, standing outside, looking yummy in a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, and a pair of coffee colored cargo shorts. Caramel colored loafers completed his outfit. It was pretty windy out, so I watched as he ran his big hand through his hair in an effort to tame it.

He saw me just as I reached the front door and broke out into a smile which made his cute dimples appear.

“Hey”.

“Hey, Big Boy. Welcome to Artemis Sanctuary”.

“It’s so peaceful today. When I brought Bam in it was a hive of activity! But your staff were all very calm and assuring. Bam got a kick out of licking the face of one of your vet assistants”.

“That would have been Eun-Young”, I smiled. “She loves animals and is always more than happy to let the furries get a lick in or two."

“Were you here that day? It was two Thursdays ago?” Jungkook asked as he walked around the lobby, stopping at a huge cork board filled to the seams with thank you notes and photos of people with their furkids. He smiled widely, reading the happy messages.

“Nope, I don’t come in every day. There are two other vets who work here, and we have a good team of vet assistants. I do drop in for a few special cases.”

He nodded, as he moved away from the message board. Then he stopped and sniffed the air. “Is that…”

“Geranium. Yup. It’s my favorite scent. Always reminds me of fresh flowers after the rain. I take it you like too right, given all your bath products have geranium in them”.

He nodded sheepishly “Guilty”.

“That’s why you always smell so good” I blurted out, then covered my mouth with my hand, eyes wide, hoping Jungkook hadn’t heard me.

He looked at me with one eyebrow up “Is that right?” he walked towards me, crowding me against the reception counter. “You know, some say that if you like the way the person smells…”

Just then, Ginger decided to say hello, walking up to Jungkook, rubbing the side of her face on his leg, weaving in and out between his feet.

“Wow, Ginger must like the way you smell too. She isn’t always this friendly with strangers”.

“What can I say, I have a way with pussies” and he waggled his eyebrows suggestively at me.

I laughed and pushed him away, then led him into the backroom.

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

Ginger padded alongside us and went back up to the top of her cat tree. I didn’t hear any barking, so Coco must still be busy with the chew I gave him.

I led Jungkook to the Chihuahua’s cage.

“This is my special case, Nuri.” Jungkook knelt down to take a closer look.

“He’s having renal issues, cataracts, is losing his hearing and is generally weak. He’d been with his family for 20 years. It’s been heartbreaking to watch them watch him deteriorate. We’d recently found a lump on his stomach, and the prognosis wasn’t looking good. They’d decided against surgery, wanting to give him as much quality of life as possible.”

“20 years is a long time. He must really be a big part of the family,”. Jungkook said quietly.

“Yes, he was there to welcome all the new additions to the family. He’s the proud older brother of a pair of twin boys, and a girl. They never go anywhere without him. When we first opened four years ago, he’d run around our little garden out front with the kids. Now he can barely walk”.

Jungkook looked up at me sadly, and to my surprise his eyes were shiny with what looked like unshed tears.

“How do you deal with the sadness? Seeing people losing their furkids? I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Bam”.

“I have to be strong for them, to help them come to terms with what their furkids are going through, and to help them find the courage to let go when it’s finally time. I remind them of the happy times they had together, and that they’ll be united again in the afterlife.”

I took a deep breath. “It hasn’t been easy. When my first golden retriever died, I was inconsolable for weeks. I’d wander around school with puffy eyes, bursting into tears at the slightest detail that reminded me of Hyeri.” I gazed into the distance, as memories came flooding back.

Jungkook reach up and held my hand, eyes soft with sympathy.

“It took me three years before I could even bear having another dog, or pet. It got easier over time. The first one is always the hardest”.

Jungkook stood up then and pulled me into his arms. He squeezed me, put his head on top of mine, tucking me into his shoulder.

“Well, I admire your strength and compassion. It’s hard to be so strong for other people all the time. No wonder Artemis is doing so well. People know that you really care”.

I smiled at his compliment, and his insight into the entire philosophy behind Artemis.

“It was a hard and bumpy road to get here, but we did it in the end”.

Just then, his stomach growled loudly, making us both burst out laughing.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“I think I had half a rock melon after texting you, then I got lost in organizing my photography stuff.”

“Come on, I promised you a cheese scrambled egg”.

We turned off the main lights, leaving a few night lights on for the furkids. After locking the front door, I noticed my car was the only one in the carpark.

“You didn’t drive? How did you get here?”

“I got an Uber.”

“And how were you planning on getting home?”

“Well, I assumed I’d be riding with you,” he smirked.

I laughed “Ok Big Boy. You can ride with me. Let’s get you fed”.

Jungkook took my hand and swung it playfully all the way to the car. "This cheese scrambled eggs had better be mind-blowing, after all the hype."

“Don't worry, it will be. Even if they aren't, I can think of other ways to blow your mind".

Previous (Chp4)

Tag: @bhonbhon

[bangpop91writing]

I decided to expand the drable I wrote earlier as part of this collaboration with @louciferssacrament and make it part of my Grief Is Love Enduring Series.

The Viking

"Alright folks, five minutes, house is open. Twenty dollars goes in, hundred dollars pays out."

"What's the over under?"

"I got six weeks."

"Give me four, on credit. I gotta run to the atm."

"Boy Imma eat your lunch. And you better pay up cause I know the bookie and she's a mad woman. Sal you in?"

"I give him one week tops. Guys from Nebraska."

"Minnesota, actually."

"Whatever. There's New York, there's LA, and in between there's Nebraska."

"Oh Chicago's gonna kick your ass."

"Hey there's a whole lotta little leagues out there but if you ain't the Yankees you just ain't playing baseball."

"Doesn't everyone hate the Yankees?"

"Listen we've had like six captains in two years. We're like the island of misfits toys for retiring brass. Might be nice for somebody to stick around for awhile."

"All I'm saying is the bar burns down, the road needs salting, guys a rock star; fire at the fair, news at 11. LA's gonna look like Mars to this podunk and we're fresh out of training wheels."

"You're also out of half the supplies that should be stocked in this truck.

Briefing in five."

"I've got twenty on the viking."

It's a nice thought. Hen wishes she had the same unending optimism as Chimney does. But no Captain lasts at the 118.

Hen doesn't try to hold back the sobs that pour out of her, tearing out of her chest when the Army Captain comes by to inform her of Bobby's death. She can't catch her breath and she doesn't think it has anything to do with her punctured lung.

She doesn't want to believe it. It can't be true. Bobby can't be gone. He was supposed to out last them all. He'd paid in his twenty, Hen had the crisp hundred dollar bill framed for his retirement gift years ago.

Hen likes Captain Nash, she thinks if anyone could whip their little family of rag tag misfits into shape it's him. But he's a good competent captain who just needs to get his sea legs. Hen puts down $20 on three months. Thats when Captain Swan out of the 122 is retiring so him and his wife can move closer to their daughter in Washington who just had a baby.

The Wilson house is quiet. Too quiet. It has felt that was ever since Karen had brought Hen home from the hospital. Mara didn't have a chance to bond with Bobby the way Denny had.

Hen can't tell if the house it so quiet because everyone who lives there is grieving or if they are tip toeing around her grief.

Hen picked at her dinner the night before as Karen told Denny and Mara it was up to them if they wanted to attend the funeral the following morning. Hen's eyes had been on her plate but she had still seen Denny's trembling bottom lip and the way Mara looked to Denny for guidance.

The wake had been a somber affair. Hen is thankful the 118 weren't asked to stand guard over Bobby's casket. She doesn't know if she could do it. If any of them could. She's thankful to those who had offered.

Captain Ronnie Cooper and Lena Bosko out of the 136. Lucy Donato out of the 217. Captain Sal Deluca out of the 122.

Loosing Sal had been hard, but not as hard as it could have been. It hadn't been sudden. It was gradual. Sal was bonding with his new team and busier than ever with his promotion to the Captain of the 122. It wasn't until years later that Hen realized how sudden it actually was. One day Sal was their defacto leader, he was an intergel part of their band of misfits, and four years later he was a virtual stranger.

The only reason Hen and Karen stay for the full length of the wake is for Athena and the kids. Athena is her best friend. It doesn't matter how badly it hurts, how cracked open her heart is. Hen needs to be here for her best friend. She can't fall apart. Not here, not today, and not tomorrow. She can fall apart later with drinks with her team. When it's all over and she no longer has to be strong because her boys will catch her the way they always have.

The house was light up with natural light, with Denny and Mara's new favorite song playing over the blue tooth speaker as Hen put on her dress blues and Karen fretted over Denny's latest growth spurt and if his dress pants would be long enough. Mara was wearing the yellow sundress she had picked out special for today with a white bow in her hair. Hen laughed helping Karen look for the specific pair of heels she wanted to wear for the Medal Ceremony.

Even though the sun is pouring in through the large windows of the Wilson home, it doesn't feel bright or warm. This time there is no laughter or music while Hen puts on her dress blues. Hen doesn't know how she's held it together this long, but she breaks in Karen's arms, sobbing into her wife's neck.

It's better if she cries here. She can't cry once they arrive at the ceremony.

Losing Tommy has harder than losing Sal. There was nothing gradual about the loss. Tommy was there just as the 118 was becoming a family and then he was gone.

It hurt, but the team, Hen had recovered.

"I'll be honest when Bobby first brought you on board, I said he should just get a Dalmatian instead."

It had taken her and Chimney a minute to warm up to Buck, the loss of Tommy still to fresh. But once he clicks Buck slides into place like he was always supposed to be there.

"Okay that is a beautiful man."

"Where's the lie? And I like girls."

"Don't worry I'll protect you from Buck and his chainsaw."

"There's a chainsaw?"

"…he feels like he lost one family and now he's hyper focused to protect the other one, the 118. He's teaching you to make sure that you're ready. But because he's Buck, he also wants to make sure that you're worthy."

"Hey Chim, I tried getting a hold of your parents but there's a sixteen hour time difference between here and Seoul, so maybe that had something to do with it."

"That's okay. His family is right here."

Hen cant stop thinking about all those defining moments that made the 118 a family, her family.

"That should be our motto. Who cares?"

"That's not a very good motto."

"Well not if you take it out of context."

She never imagined that a funeral would be the thing that brought the 118 back together for the first time. She thought it would be births, graduations, weddings that brought Eddie home again. She never could have imagined it would be Bobby's funeral.

Hen crawls through the small pocket her team had made for her in the rubble. She has Kat holding onto her back and Paisley in front of her leading the way. Hen makes it put the other side covered in dust and debris. She looks into the eyes of her team who had come to rescue her.

"Hey guys." Hen said with a laugh. She had never doubted them.

Hen takes her seat at the front with the rest of the 118 behind Athena, the kids. Bobby's family. She selfishly wishes she didn't have to be a pallbarer, that she could sit with Karen and give into the tears threatening to fall.

Hen hears May's tears, and watches Athena comfort her children. Hen doesn't even want to think of how devastated May must be. Hen knows how much she loves Bobby.

"Cap!" The word rings out like a mantra, like a prayer as the 118 calls for their captain sifting through the rubble of the roof that had come down on him and May with increasing desperation.

The rubble falls away revealing Bobby and May both alive. Even through the sound of moving rumble and the buzz of adrenaline ringing in Hen's ears she can hear Bobby comforting May. She can see her captain using his body as a blanket to protect his child until help arrives. The 118 pulls father and daughter from the rubble and Bobby watches protectively while Hen examines May.

"It is customary and fitting that the final alarm be sounded for our brother, Captain Robert Wade Nash. He has completed his duties, a job well done." Hen takes a deep shuddering Breath as Chief Simpson speaks. She knows what is coming next and she isn't ready. She doesn't know how she will ever be ready. "Uniformed personal please stand." Hen rises especially side by side with her team, her brothers.

"Atten-hut! Present arms." Hen salutes still fighting back tears as the bell rings ten times signaling the end of Bobby's watch.

The 118 flank Bobby and May walking them out of the burnt out remains of metro dispatch, escorting them to safety and to medical care.

It's time for the 118 to escort Bobby to his final resting place.

It wasn't intentional that her, Chimney, and Tommy line one side of Bobby's casket while Buck, Eddie, and Ravi line the other, but it feels like it is. On one side, the team Bobby inherited, on the other side, the one he built. They are the only ones who know the truth though, The 118 wasn't just Bobby's team, they were his family.

The bag pipes fill the air of downtown Los Angeles the way they must fill the hills of Scotland, Hen thinks. This isn't her first funeral. It isn't even her first funeral for a fallen brother.

"We all have our breaking point."

Hen knows they are supposed to be stoic as they guard Bobby for as long as they can. Hen knows she is supposed to be stoic but she couldn't stop the tears even if she tried. She marches side by side with the 118 until their job is done, when it is time Athena, May, and Harry to make the last part of this journey on their own as they take Bobby's home to Minnesota.

"I wasn't asking about work. I already know you did a great job."

Hen and her family return home from the funeral. She doesn't strip out of her dress blues, not yet. She knows she should change, her mom would be there soon to watch the kids so Hen and Karen could join the 118 for drinks at their old haunt.

In their bedroom Hen goes to the top shelf of their closet pulling down a old wood box. Her bookie box. It's empty but Hen opens it anyway staring at the bottom of the box that hasn't been used since they had placed bets on Bobby and Athena's relationship.

Bobby thought Hen should be the next Captain of the 118, but she doesn't even know if she is up for the job. Everything feels so broken without Bobby, she doesn't know how to rebuild a firehouse, but she thinks she knows where to start.

"You know why redwoods grow so high? They move and bend with the wind. If you stay rigid, eventually you'll break."

The tones ring out across the station calling the 118 to action. Buck and Chimney flank their new captain with Ravi and May falling in line behind them as the team follows Captain Henrietta Wilson into the engines, driving out of the station, answering the call to help.

On the wall of the station hangs a large plaque with the LAFD insignia and commemorating the fallen members of the 118. At the very center hangs the portrait of Bobby Nash with a crisp hundred dollar bill behind the glass.

[mooncello]

[I never know how to start wipsday posts. It feels awkward and unnatural to me and kinda like writing a letter?? but not, so I'm just gonna begin as though we were already halfway into a conversation, excellent solution, Heath, thank you, I thought so too—]

—and post-op recovery is a strange, liminal space. I've got too much time to think yfm? Too much reading of The Guardian and Al Jazeera and feeling super fucking helpless. I've been reading a lot of non-news, too. Revisiting my beloved Cooper Dayton and Oliver Park in the vastly underrated gay werewolf mystery series by Charlie Adhara. Subscribed to Sarah Thankam Mathews's substack thot pudding (good stuff, big rec). Giving what I can to Rawa. I started Yuri on Ice, and am about to dive into Denne Michele Norris's novel When the Harvest Comes. My friend recently recommended the podcast The Nature Of with Willow Defebaugh, and the most recent episode feat. Q U E E N adrienne maree brown. I'll be queuing that up this week.

I've also been writing!! I'm working on a collab with @monbons and our conversations the past couple weeks have brought so much joy. AND: chapter 9 of more than a footnote is HAPPENING. Dev and Niall have returned, the words are flowing, and I'm 70% done with drafting the chapter. I love them. I love this chapter. It's self-indulgent, it's soft, it's real. It's sexy. I published the first chapter of this fic on June 1 last year, and I really hope to post the final chapter by then. Full circles and all that. Also wdym iT'S BEEN A YEAR??

Here's a long snippet from chapter 9:

Dev POV

I leave Niall and his mums and wander out the back door to the Flores Connelly garden. Like most London terraced houses, it's tiny. A postage stamp of land, half covered in paving stones and brimming with flowers. Gardening gloves and tools spill from cans. Rain boots and slides line up neatly by the door. Strings of cafe lights loop from one end of the garden to the other, bisecting the inky night with honey gold. I collapse into one of the woven patio chairs, beating back the maelstrom swiftly gathering inside my chest. I had hoped to delay this fucking decision for a few more days because what I want and what I need are at vicious odds. No, I think, biting the inside of my cheek. Not need. I don't need to see my family, but the should is strong and familiar. An ill-fitting, ugly jacket that I've outgrown—that never fit me, not really—yet my shoulders still expect its weight and the way it pinches under my armpits. It's held my spine in a weird, unnatural posture every summer, every school break, for so long, that to reject it ... I sigh and scrub my eyes with the heels of my hands. The idea of defying my parents' expectations is both freeing and terrifying. Fuck, I wish I weren't such a coward. Two arms snake around my shoulders from behind. And then his soft mouth, pressed against the side of my neck. "Wanna break something?" Niall murmurs. "I can find a glass from the kitchen." "Nah." I reach for his sweatshirt, grab it, and tug, until he's seated in my lap. I wrap my arms around his waist, his arms now looped around my neck, and I feel instantly resettled. At home. "This is better." I tip my face up, and Niall meets me with a kiss. It's slow and sweet, his hands coming up to curve around my jaw, slipping into my hair, his nails against my scalp and his weight solid upon my thighs. We kiss and kiss, not building to anything, just the simple pleasure of his mouth on mine. How is it this easy? This good?

thank you for the tag today @brilla-brilla-estrellita, and everyone else that's tagged me these last few weeks.

tags and ✌️:

@drowninginships @valeffelees @run-for-chamo-miles @blackberrysummerblog @confused-bi-queer

@youarenevertooold @shrekgogurt, @hushed-chorus @whatevertheweather, @cutestkilla

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @artsyunderstudy, @emeryhall, @imagineacoolusername, @leithillustration

@iamamythologicalcreature, @bookish-bogwitch @thewholelemon, @best--dress, @rimeswithpurple

@ileadacharmedlife @skeedelvee, @monbons, @alexalexinii, @j-trow-95

@theimpossibledemon, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @larkral, @messofthejess, @talentpiper11

@fiend-for-culture, @stitchyqueer, @roomwithanopenfire + anyone else who would like to join

[alicelillianshaw]

New Mexico. Red rocks, a blazing sun that sunk low and lower behind them, a bagful of Uncrustables they would unwrap and consume together. Plastic crinkling. Birds whistling. Jack's inhale and exhale next to her, a simple sound that was so appealing.

Yeah. That's what they were gonna do before the end of this week. They were gonna do it, and it was going to be a moment just for them. For Jack, for his younger self, for his older self that missed the simplicity.

Alice glances down at her lap.

As much as she feels comfortable with Jack, and trusts him, there is something about admitting her messiness that makes her stomach feel oily. Anxious, in a way. Even though Jack was better suited to understand her compared to anyone else.

'Yeah. I feel like I’ve known you forever,'

She takes an involuntary breath— Jack felt it too? Of course he did. Why else would Jack, who could afford to do anything, and everything he want, agree to go to the fucking apple doll muesum with her. Why else?

'And — well. I just want you to know — whatever stupid thing you think you did … whatever got you into trouble back then? I don’t care.'

Jack didn't care.

He sits across from her on the couch— Alice, with her damp, spiked eyelashes, red-rimmed eyes, lap full of crumbs — and insists that whatever Alice thought she did, it wouldn't matter to Jack.

And her eyes smart. Because Alice knows it had been stupid. The mistakes were many, serious, and stupid, and they almost instantaneously undid years of effort, years of progress made by her passion.

They were very stupid mistakes, and Alice knows this, and yet looking at Jack she's almost very certain he means it.

Alice could talk about the drinking— about the trembling hands, stumbling to her midterm on the wrong day, the angry friends and wasted money, and she feels very fucking certain that Jack would still mean what he said.

Jack was good like that. He was kind. He looked at Alice very kindly, even though she was just a random stranger who had intruded upon the most difficult time of his life. He agreed to go to stupid museums with her. Take her dancing, to live piano music. Dip her and spin her in a special dress.

His hand folds around hers, warm and large, as Jack reassures her that she didn't have to share anything she didn't want to.

'I’ve made some mistakes. Clearly. And it’s not a competition, obviously, but I’m the last person that would ever judge you or see you differently.'

'You’ve been incredible, Alice. Most people would’ve asked me about … everything going on, you know? And you haven’t, even though it’d probably be killer for your career. Anyway. I’m not asking you to tell me anything you don’t want to. I’m really just happy to sit with you, right here, and build more Snack Stacks if that's what you want.'

Well. Alice doesn't deserve all that. Alice doesn't deserve half of the kind things Jack has said about her. What she's doing— not voraciously, greedily digging into the vulnerable parts of Jack's life — was the bare minimum. He deserved it from everyone!

But. But. It's there, on the tip of her tongue. The itch to say it all. The itch to share the ugly thing about herself and hope someone as wonderful as Jack— Jack, who wanted a stone the color of her eyes— would still like her.

Alice raises her free hand and the heel of it it against her cheekbone— hard, hard, hard, as if trying to force the words out of her. She wants to tell him. Fuck, she wants to tell him. But shame is so hard, and admitting things aloud has a way of making them come to life.

A strangled breath.

"It was— well. If I'm being honest, I practically drank myself into ruining my life. That was the stupid shit I did."

There. There it was; spat out, ugly, and out in the open.

"I had fun partying. And then I had too much fun. And then I partied everyday, and then— I don't know! I thought that there weren't enough parties. So I took the best part of partying, the drinking, home with me." Alice's lips quirk upward, but there's nothing humorous in her eyes. "Naturally, I took the alcohol from dorm to class."

Alcohol in her backpack. Little shooters, in her purse, each of the zippered pockets. Fuck— Alice even started keeping vodka beneath her bathroom sink, so she could take long, long pulls as she dragged her mascara wand through her eyelashes and blasted Soundgarden.

Alcohol in the bathroom!

That's when Alice knew she'd really flown off the rails.

"And then the scholarship. The full ride scholarship I worked so fucking hard for." Disgust churns in Alice's stomach. "My parents have three other kids to worry about. Their jobs can't pay for all of us to go to college. So this scholarship was huge. This was like ... lifting this massive weight from around their necks. And then college Alice— me — cannot stop fucking partying, and ... I did a lot of embarrassing things. And my scholarship gets revoked, and—"

Alice turns her head, stares at the far wall.

"That's the worst moment of my life, I think. Not waking up in the back of my friend's car, taking me to the hospital. It was telling my parents that I'd lost the scholarship."

A beat. Alice turns her head back to Jack, something like an apology on her face— apology for the mess she was spilling on him. A watery, dark smile.

"I did that all to myself, I know. But that moment where your turn around and look at everything you smashed..."

She inhales sharply.

Simply knowing that Alice had wanted to give him those moments — a new Uncrustable flavor, surrounded by the New Mexico dessert — made Jack’s heart ache in ways he’d never felt before. It wasn’t really a bad ache, either. It felt like … longing. Longing that was somehow so pure that it hurt.

“We will. We’ll do it,” he promised. A promise that he wouldn’t break.

As Alice steered the conversation back to her college mistakes, Jack patiently waited. He didn’t want to push her, didn’t want her to overexert herself to the point of admitting something too painful. For Jack, it was his family. For Alice, maybe it was whatever had happened in college.

Dumb decisions, apparently, that had lost her a full ride scholarship. She’d almost been expelled.

Ironically, Jack was dealing with similar consequences now, on the verge of losing his job in congress. It felt that way, anyway. He understood her, and he wouldn’t judge her. Whatever it was.

How could he? How could he judge her? Especially when she felt the same way that Jack did. Alice wanted to spend time with him, and suddenly, Jack felt less ashamed of how quickly he’d sprinted out of bed that morning. Before his morning run, he’d waited downstairs, just for a few minutes, wondering if she’d descend down the stairs so they could enjoy a warm cup of coffee together. But it was early. Really early, so Jack went on his run and told himself she’d be awake by the time he got home.

Jack smiled, ducked his head, staring down at their hands joined together. Everything unfolding between Jack and Alice felt so pleasant and unexpected.

“Yeah. I feel like I’ve known you forever,” he admitted. “And — well. I just want you to know — whatever stupid thing you think you did … whatever got you into trouble back then? I don’t care.”

He tilted his head upward again so he could meet her gaze. He squeezed her hand once more.

“I don’t care about what it is. You can tell me, if it’s not too painful to share. And if it is… I don’t care if you don’t tell me. You don’t ever have to tell me anything that you don’t want to.”

Jack folded his hand around hers, squeezing all of her fingers gently into the palm of his hand.

“I’ve made some mistakes. Clearly. And it’s not a competition, obviously, but I’m the last person that would ever judge you or see you differently.”

He blinked, scanning her features for any indicators that she was uncomfortable. He hoped he wasn’t coming off too strong.

“You’ve been … fuck.”

He trailed off, sighing in a bit of disbelief. He smiled.

“You’ve been incredible, Alice. Most people would’ve asked me about … everything going on, you know? And you haven’t, even though it’d probably be killer for your career. Anyway. I’m not asking you to tell me anything you don’t want to. I’m really just happy to sit with you, right here, and build more Snack Stacks if that's what you want.”

[crxw1ey]

does this to you

[lupismaris]

There is nothing so affirming and life saving as leaving home and being loved at face value by total strangers for who you are

[zakiyah]

.

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

wait, Derin how did your leaving make the hospital shut down?

I used to work as a live-in nanny for a pediatrician.

Now, the thing about hospitals in my country is that they are massively understaffed and massively underfunded. This is especially true outside the major cities. The staff are worked to the bone and receive little to no help in things like finding accommodation or childcare, making working in rural areas a very uninviting prospect; staff come out here, get lumped with the work of three people (because there's nobody else to do it), burn out under the workload and leave, meaning that those remaining have even more work because that person is gone. It's unsustainable and the medical staff are doing their best to sustain it, because people die if they don't, so to the higher-ups it looks like everything's getting done and therefore everything is fine.

My friend (and boss) worked one week on, one week off, swapping out with another pediatrician. This was necessary because it would not be physically possible for one person to handle the workload for longer periods of time. The one single pediatrician had to hold up the entire pediatrics ward, which was not only the only public hospital pediatrics ward in our town, but also the one that served all the towns around us for a few hours' drive in all directions. I regularly saw her go to work sick, aching, tired, or with a debilitating 'I can barely make words or see' level migraine, because if she took a day off, twenty children didn't get healthcare that day, and some of these kids' appointments were scheduled weeks in advance. She'd work long hours in the day and then be called in a couple of times overnight for an hour or two at a time (she was on-call at night too, because somebody had to be), and then go in the next day. Sometimes she would be forced to take a day off because she physically could not stay awake for longer than a few minutes at a time, meaning she couldn't drive to work.

Cue my niece's second birthday coming up in Melbourne. I'd been working for her for about 3 years, and she (and the hospital) had plenty of advance warning that I (and therefore she) needed one (1) Friday off. That's fine, we'll find someone to work that Friday, the hospital said. Right up until the last week where they're like "oh, we can't find a replacement; you can come in, can't you?"

No, she tells them; I don't have anyone to watch my kid that day.

Oh, surely you can hire a babysitter for this one day, they say. Think of the children! We really really need you to work that day. I know we said it'd be fine but we need you now, there's no one else to do it.

There are no other babysitters, she told them. Unless you can find one?

That's not our responsibility, they said.

But I'm not changing my plans, she's got plans by now as well, the hospital knew about this one day weeks in advance, and with absolutely no reserve staff they're forced to reschedule all pediatrics appointments for that Friday. Not a huge deal, it happens on the 'physically too overworked to get out of bed' days too. I go to Melbourne, she goes back to her home in Adelaide for her recovery week, all should be on track.

My niece gives me Covid.

This was way back in the first wave of the pandemic, and there were no Covid vaccines yet. The rules were isolate, mask up, hope. I had Covid in the house, and it would've been madness for my friend and her toddler to come back into the Covid house instead of staying in Adelaide. There was absolutely no way that a pediatrician could live with someone in quarantine due to Covid and go to work in the hospital with sick children every day. And no support existed for finding another babysitter, or temporary accommodation, so the hospital was down a pediatrician.

The other pediatrician wasn't available to do a three-week stint. They were also trapped in Adelaide on their well-earned week off.

Meaning that the only major pediatrics ward within a several-hour radius had no pediatricians. They had to shut down and send all urgent cases to Adelaide for the week. To the complete absence of surprise of any of the doctors or nurses; of course this would happen, this was bound to happen, it presumably keeps happening. But probably to the surprise of the higher-ups. After all, the hospital was doing fine, right? Of course all the staff were complaining of overwork and a lack of resources in every meeting, but they could always be fobbed off with the promise of more help sometime in the future; the work was mostly getting done, so the issue couldn't be too urgent.

It's not like some nanny who doesn't even work for the hospital could go out of town for a weekend for the first time in three years, and get the only public pediatrics ward in the area shut down for a week.

[humanjarvis]

caught in a lie

synopsis: when you ignore caleb’s calls, he catches you trying to run from the consequences. you make a false promise to appease his anger, not expecting your lie to unravel. but almost immediately, it does.  

tags: based loosely on caleb's "hidden waves" memory, porn with plot, manipulative!caleb x manipulative!reader, brat!reader, mean(ish) dom!caleb, caleb makes out with your cunt for an hour, reader cries, belly bulge, 3 brother mentions but they’re done ironically/out of spite, humiliation, semi-public sex (caleb makes you call and cancel plans with that friend while he fucks you), lines lifted directly from hidden waves in bold pairing: caleb x fem!reader  word count: 3.9k

a/n: love the scene this is based on bc it reminds me of my favorite book from the wattpad era in 300 BC. also this is my first time writing full-on smut and omfg i don't know how people write like 10k of it u guys are wizards. but the response to this will determine how explicitly i write going forward, no pressure

As the Skyhaven nightscape twinkles around you, you can’t help but feel like you’re forgetting something. 

You’d had a great night: Simone had invited you to a cute café, the owners had given you a free muffin, and the raging storm from this afternoon had dwindled into a drizzle. But still, a sense of foreboding loomed over you, threatening to taint the precious memories you’d made tonight.

“...And next week we can go to this new bar downtown! I heard they have the best drinks, and there’s even a puppy mascot they let walk around and play with guests. Doesn’t that sound fun?” 

“Yeah, sure,” you agree absently, Simone’s words going in one ear and out the other. “I’ll be there.”

As you walk farther down the sidewalk, the vibrant city atmosphere melts away your worries. People of all ages were out splashing in leftover puddles, trying new food stalls, and window shopping in the strip of stores that lit your path. Gradually, you give up on trying to place your unease, surrendering fully to the comfort of the cool night air.

“Hey!” you exclaim, an idea popping into your head. “Do you want to find a photobooth and take some pictures? I want something to remember tonight by.”

“Oh my gosh, absolutely,” Simone responds. “There should be one not too far from here. I went with my brother a few months back! It was really fun.”

At her words, you stop in your tracks. Her enthusiasm is no match for the dread building in your chest. 

Caleb.

Caleb who’d told you to text him when you got to the café, when you were about to leave, and when you were almost home. 

Caleb was what—or who—you were forgetting.

Slowly, you reach your hand into your purse until you feel your phone, digging it out and staring as if it were a venomous animal. Taking a deep breath, you tap the screen awake and immediately lose the air you’d just inhaled. 

7 Unread messages

4 Missed calls

3 New voicemails

Fuck.

“Uh, actually,” you start, chucking the device back into your bag, “I just realized I didn’t bring a brush! There’s no way I can take pictures without fixing my hair—it’s like a bird’s nest up there,” you ramble, giggling nervously. “Can we end the night here?”

“O…kay?” Simone says, clearly confused by the sudden shift in your mood. “Yeah, we can go back now. Your hair looks fine, though.”

Thanking the universe for giving you such an agreeable friend, you walk back to her car, the quickness of your usually unhurried steps betraying your agitation.

He’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me, you think. 

As the familiar outline of Simone’s car comes into view, she turns to face you. “Do you want a ride to the train station? I told my girlfriend I’d be home at 1:30—I have another hour.”

“Wait!” you cry, throwing your hands out in front of you. She looks at you as if the intensity in your voice is unnecessary. Which is true, because she’s standing a foot away. Quieter this time, you ask, “Would it be okay if I spent the night at your place? Just this once, I promise.” 

“...If you really need to,” she agrees warily. “As long as you don’t mind cat hair.”

When you reach her car, Simone gestures for you to wait as she walks around to the passenger’s side. “I just need to clean up real quick. The granola bar wrappers build up when you’re constantly called in early for emergencies.” 

But when Simone pulls on the door handle, it doesn’t open. “Weird,” she mutters, wiping raindrops onto her jeans. “I swear I unlocked it.” 

She clicks a button on her keys and tries again. Inexplicably, the door still doesn’t budge. “It’s like some force is holding it shut or something,” she says. At that, an alarm sounds in the back of your mind. But before it can reach your consciousness, she continues. “Well, I have a locksmith on speed dial anyway—I’m always losing my keys. But before I call, seriously, are you ok? The way you asked me to stay over….Is there something scary waiting for you at home? Why do you look so worried?”

"It’s probably because I’m home,” the all-too-familiar voice rings out behind you. 

In an instant, your entire body goes rigid. Your now-pounding heart screams at you to run, but you can’t obey without making a scene in front of your friend. 

Plastering a smile on your face, you turn around slowly, as if the longer you took to face him, the more likely he’d be to disappear.  

You had no such luck. Towering over you, umbrella in hand, was Caleb, his normally expressive face a wall of stone. 

Despite his obvious anger, he steps forward to shield you from the downpour and you refrain from taking a step back—against your better judgment.

“Caleb!” you remark, your voice shrill with unease. “What a surprise!”

Ignoring your greeting, Caleb turns his attention to Simone. “Skyhaven isn’t very safe tonight,” he says coolly. “You’d better get home.”

The finality in his words makes it clear: you won’t be joining her. 

“Um, sure,” Simone trails off, wary eyes searching yours. “Will you be alright?”

“...Yes, it’s okay.”

Though your words don’t seem to convince her, Caleb’s penetrating glare does. She quickly walks to the driver’s side and effortlessly pops the door open—surprise, surprise—before jumping in. Giving you one last look, your only chance at salvation drives into the night.

The ride back to Caleb’s house is silent. You scoot as close as you can to the window beside you, paying no mind to the intensifying patter of rain against the glass. All that you notice is how he grips the steering wheel tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. 

When you pull into his driveway and exit the car, he walks closely behind you, preventing any more last-minute escape attempts. His imposing presence follows you inside and all the way to his bedroom. 

When you both cross the threshold, the air thickens with tension as you stand in silence, unmoving. 

“Well, goodnight!” you call when you can’t take it anymore. But before you can take one step, Caleb swings the door shut with his Evol. Huh, you think. Doors must be his speciality tonight.

“Where do you think you could possibly be going after the night you gave me?” he asks, steely voice cutting through your thoughts.

“Listen—” you start, but he cuts you off. 

“You ordered coffee three times. Burst out into laughter I could hear from outside six times. And yet, you somehow managed to check your phone zero times.”

“If you’d just given me more time, I was going to—”

“You were going to what? Because here’s what I think would have happened: If I hadn’t picked you up, you would’ve gone to your friend’s place, right? Then, you’d message me with an apology. Oh, throw in a cute emoji as the cherry on top,” he snorts. 

“With that done, you’d put your phone away and curl up into a ball to sleep. You wouldn’t even dare to check my response. You’d wait it out and believe I wouldn’t be upset. And once I’m away on a mission or somethin’...you would sneak back into the house and pretend nothing happened. Tell me,” he challenges you. “Am I wrong?”

He wasn’t wrong. He was never wrong—not about your habits, at least. 

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you snap. “I thought you said you were ‘done playing games’? You don't have to act so big brother-y all the time.”

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. Caleb’s head rears back, his eyes going wide in incredulity before he scoffs. 

Alright, you sigh, time to turn on the waterworks. 

Taking a deep breath, you force tears into your eyes. “Caleb,” you begin, “I really didn’t mean to ignore you. I was just having so much fun. S-someone brought their puppy to the café and I got distracted.” The café hadn’t allowed pets, but you needed all the sympathy you could get. You’d have to thank Simone for telling you about that new bar later. “I won’t do it again. I won’t even go out at night anymore—promise.”

As he takes in your pitiful expression, you see Caleb’s resolve start to crack, the twitch in his right eye giving away how much he wants to console you. Maintaining your pout, you internally grin like a Cheshire cat. He could never say no to you. He could never le—

Your phone rings.

You thought you’d turned it off in the car, but your fucking phone rings. Right when you have him where you want him. 

The shrill tone sucks the air out of the room, and with it, any hope for your escape.

“Answer it. Speaker.” His voice leaves no room for argument.

Visibly shaken, you fish your phone out of your bag and accept the call. “H-hello?”

“Hey Y/N, it’s Simone. I’m calling to check on you—that guy who took you home was kinda scary. I just wanted to make sure he didn’t do anything. Are you okay?”

At the insinuation that he’d ever harm you, Caleb’s face turns thunderous, his jaw clenching so hard you’re afraid it’ll snap. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” you reassure her. “Thanks for worrying though, that’s really sweet,” you add, your eyes darting up and immediately back down after meeting Caleb’s glower. 

“That’s great, I really was worried,” she says, relief evident in her voice. “Well, before you hang up, are we still on for same time next week at the bar I mentio—”

You hang up as soon as she reveals your plans, throwing your phone so abruptly it bounces off the chair where your purse sits and onto the carpet. But it was too late. There was no sweet-talking the irate scowl off of Caleb’s face. You’d lied. 

Like a deer in headlights, you stand frozen and helpless as Caleb stalks toward you. 

“You almost had me,” he chuckles darkly, squishing your cheeks between one hand. “And I bet you knew it, too. Remind me to thank Simone for being such a good friend later.”

His grip tightens when you try to respond, and he pulls your face closer to his instead. “I think I’ve had enough of you talking for now. No point in hearing it if you’re just gonna lie to me again.”

With uncanny speed, he lifts you by your legs and tosses you onto the mattress. When you attempt to sit up, hoping to crawl away, he captures both of your wrists in his hand and claims your lips in a bruising kiss. 

“Don’t talk.” A kiss. “Don’t move.” Another. “Don’t do anything I don’t tell you to do, and I might not chain you to this bed.” You’re so distracted by his final kiss—the exclamation point—that you barely register when he yanks your loose pants down, baring your cotton panties to him. 

When he spots the wet patch spreading through the middle, he moans, shifting to push his nose into your center. The deep inhales he takes seem to calm him down, and his voice loses some of its earlier edge when he murmurs, “Can’t believe you were keepin’ her from me tonight. Look at how much she missed me.”

He demonstrates by pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your panties, tasting you as you leak harder under his tongue. The whimper you let out falls on deaf ears as you remember his command: Don’t talk. 

Licking a stripe up your clothed folds, Caleb sighs into you in contentment. “Gonna see her in a second,” he breathes. “Just can’t give her too much at once, or she’ll get greedy.” 

He’s too far gone, you think, closing your eyes in preparation of what’s to come. But nothing prepares you for the way the seemingly sedated Caleb rips your panties open at the seam, exposing your hot skin to the cool air. 

With no hesitation, he plants a long kiss onto your core, his lips smacking against the fat of your outer folds. Covering your skin with a flurry of pecks, he moans into you, his intermittent licks becoming sloppy, appreciative kisses. 

Caleb was making out with your cunt like your brain wasn't in the room, kissing it like he hadn’t seen it in years. The sensations and lewd squelches make your arousal unbearable, but when you try to grind into his mouth—to get him to do something more—he pushes your hips into the mattress. 

“Don’t interrupt us,” he mumbles, lips still latched onto your unspread cunt. Heat rushing to your cheeks, you flop your head back down, defeated as the man ignores you to have his heartfelt reunion with your core. 

An agonizing few minutes later, you feel him press a last hard kiss against your skin before finally spreading your soaked folds. “Can’t believe you ever thought you could hide from me,” he growls, eyes sparkling. “I’ll show you you can’t. Make you never want to again.”

Slowly, he licks up and down your wetness, teasing his tongue around your entrance. You try to relax during his ministrations, knowing he won’t give you what you want this early, but he catches you off guard when he buries his tongue into your weeping, sputtering hole. 

A strangled moan escapes you as he fucks you with his tongue, twisting, turning, and circling himself inside you. 

One pulse has your walls flexing with desperation, and Caleb pulls back slightly when he feels you tighten around him. “Look at that, I think she’s kissin’ me back,” he coos, a string of his saliva refusing to part from your quivering cunt. 

Spurred on by the whine you give him, he flashes you a wicked grin before diving back in, plunging his tongue in and out at a punishing pace. 

All the while, he studiously avoids where you need him most, licking and kissing everywhere but your twitching clit—neglecting it like you did him earlier in the night.

Suddenly, he lifts his head up, flashing you a quick smirk. “You know,” he starts, licking his glistening lips. “When you were givin’ me all those crocodile tears and cryin’ about puppies earlier, you never did say sorry for trying to run. How about now, hmm?” he asks, pressing a wet kiss to your center. “You sorry?”

You pant out an incoherent moan, and he nips at your clit—the first time he’s touched it all night. Ignoring your squeal, he gives you another kiss. “I don’t know what that means. Try again.” 

You go to speak again, but Caleb suddenly rubs his nose against your clit, your resulting gasp sending your back shooting off the bed. He swiftly slams you back down with his Evol, giving you another nip. “Just two words, baby. You can do that for me, yeah? Two words, loud and clear. Want to know you mean it.”

You don’t know what it is—the last strands of your pride clinging on for dear life, your stupor after being toyed with for almost an hour, or pure stubbornness—but you can’t bring yourself to say it. With a whimper, you clamp your mouth shut, staring at the ceiling in rebellion. 

“Hmmm,” he hums, looking up at you briefly. Before you can even process it, Caleb covers your clit with his mouth and sucks, simultaneously groaning into you. The combined sensations set your nerves on fire, and you come in his mouth with a prolonged cry. 

“I’m sorry!” you wail, the tears in your eyes genuine this time. As Caleb laps up your release, chants of “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m—oh—I’m sorry,” fall through your lips, your earlier defiance reduced to blubbering submission. “Should’ve checked my phone and called you back, I’m so sorry.” 

You’ve apologized ten times over, it feels, but he won’t let up. He suckles you until it aches, and there’s nothing you can do but lie there and sob as his Evol keeps you pinned down. When he’s finally had his fill, he presses a reverent thank-you kiss to your cunt before crawling up your body, nestling in between your thighs. 

“Aw, none of that, now,” he coos, wiping under your eyes. “I forgive you, alright? I forgive you for getting distracted, baby.” Still crying, you nod frantically, leaning into his gentle touch. “But if you ever run from me again, whoever you’re with won’t like what happens when I catch you,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your lips and then your forehead before plunging into you. 

Though his pace is relentless, your walls draw him in, his earlier date with your cunt letting you take his thick length with ease. 

When the pressure builds and you shy away from his brutal thrusts, he turns your chin toward him, pressing an ironically chaste kiss to your mouth. “No running, remember?” 

As you hurtle toward your release, he leans close, kissing you briefly before speaking into your lips. “The next time you wanna ignore me—next time you wanna hide from me and lie to me sayin’ you’ll be good from now on—I want you to think of this, to think of me right here,” he murmurs, palming his cock through your belly. You squeal at the foreign feeling, but he only adds more force, and you think you’re about to pass out.   

“My baby,” he chides. “Loves to act out but she can’t handle the consequences.” While he speaks, he folds your left leg up, pushing it to your chest so he can penetrate you deeper.

“Please, Caleb!” you beg, the new angle making stars float across your vision. As your body rocks with the force of his strokes, you cry, “I said I was sorry!” 

“Mm, you did,” he nods, absorbing a tear on your cheek with a kiss. “But I don’t think you really are. Not yet.”

Without warning, he pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach before sliding back in. Resuming his thrusts, he uses his Evol to pick your forgotten phone up off the floor. “Call her back. Speaker,” he orders. 

At first, you're flustered into hesitation, but as he holds the phone ahead of you and taps through your history to do it himself, you pull yourself together. “Wait,” you wail. “Wait. I’ll do it.”

You do it.

When Simone picks up, Caleb shows you mercy by decreasing his pace so the sound of slick skin colliding doesn’t travel through the phone. 

“Hey Y/N, what’s up? Is it about earlier? …Did something happen?” she asks in concern.

Frantically, you twist your head to look up at Caleb, not knowing what to say. 

Leisurely, he folds forward over you, his chest flush with your spine so he can whisper in your ear. Throughout his dramatics, your time to respond without raising suspicion wanes, and you grow more desperate by the second.

“Hi Simone,” Caleb finally whispers, pressing kisses to your ear in time with his languid strokes.

“H-hi Simone,” you repeat louder, a slight tremble in your voice.

“I just wanted to say thanks again for checking in. That guy, the one from earlier—he can be so mean sometimes,” Caleb murmurs, pouting his lips in ridicule. 

“I just wanted…wanted to say thanks again for checking in. The guy from earlier—hah—can be so mean sometimes,” you echo, breathless from the impact of Caleb’s hips rocking into yours.

“Can we reschedule our plans for next week? My big brother’s,” he emphasizes, mocking your earlier jab with two deep thrusts, “coming home, and he really misses me.” As he feeds you lines, the taunts in his words break through the softness of his whispers. 

As softly as you dare to, you whimper for him, hoping it’s enough for him to end his torture.

But as the phone screen goes black from inactivity, you see his smirking reflection looming over your humiliated one. The only way out is by appeasing him. 

“C-can we reschedule our plans for next week? My…my friend—” 

As soon as the word leaves your mouth, Caleb lifts off of you slightly, landing a harsh smack on your ass.

“Y/N? What was that noise? Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you all but moan as he bites your neck, reprimanding you further for breaking his script. 

“My friend is visiting next week, and he really misses me,” you finish, waiting with bated breath for her—and Caleb’s—reactions. 

“Oh…sure, Y/N. That’s fine with me. That’s a lot better than I was expecting, you sounded like you were in trouble for a second.” Caleb smirks against your ear. “Just let me know when you want to reschedule.”

“Sounds good,” you breathe as Caleb’s thrusts return to a faster pace. “I-I gotta go, I’ll see you later!” you rush, almost squealing as you end the call. 

For the nth time that night, you want to burst into tears. “I can’t believe you just did that,” you whine, your voice mixing with the renewed slaps of skin on skin. 

Chuckling, Caleb lifts off of you, his sudden absence from your cunt making you shudder. In an instant, he flips you over so you’re face-to-face before entering you again. 

“Technically, you just did that,” he smirks, his thrusts now lazy and sporadic. “I don’t remember pressing ‘call.’” His matter-of-fact tone is teasing, but you knew that if you hadn’t canceled on Simone, he’d have made good on his earlier threat. He always does. 

As you open your mouth to retort, Caleb’s face grows serious, and all your neurons responsible for making witty comebacks seem to atrophy at once. 

Caleb leans down, light bites on your throat punctuating his confession. “I can’t stop at wanting you not to run from me anymore. I want you to stay with me. To choose to, for as long as we live, for the next hundred years.” 

“But what if…” you trail off, but he understands what you’d been implying. 

At that, his eyes darken. Rutting into you with renewed fervor, he grasps your chin tightly, holding you captive in his gaze. “You’ll be around for however many years I’m alive and kicking,” he growls. And you believe him. 

Nerves alight, mind numb, and core throbbing from your impending climax, you nod as much as his iron grip allows you to. “I’ll stay,” you whisper, kissing his thumb near your lip. “Wanna stay—with you.” 

Letting out a strangled huff, Caleb surges forward, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. He bites your bottom lip as he presses down on your stomach once again, and you careen over the edge, feeling the hot spurts of his release intensify the flood inside your cunt. 

With a shuttering groan, Caleb collapses to your left, immediately closing the space between you with a hug. You stay like that for a while, your sore body curled into his arms as you face each other on the bed. 

“You okay?” he asks quietly, rubbing circles into your hip. “I know it was a bit much.”

“Forgive you,” you mumble into his chest. “Felt good.”

He chuckles, tapping your nose twice. “You shouldn’t forgive me so easily. Or else I’ll want to keep testing your limits.” 

When you fall asleep in his warm embrace, Caleb looks down at you intently, trying to brand the visual into any part of his commandeered mind that’d take it. Daring to disrupt the image, he gently untangles your bodies, lifting you before laying you back down on top of him. 

At peace for the first time that night, Caleb looks out the window, smiling to himself. The rain has stopped.

[nezuscribe]

you’re glad to have a friend like arranged!gojo, it feels good to have somebody to talk to and listen to. you feel nice being able to laugh with somebody and not apologize for the awful jokes or strange things you say. but sometimes you have to stop yourself from getting attached, reminding yourself that he won’t care for you like that.

and though that’s the farthest from the truth, it’s what you’ve convinced yourself. so when your birthday comes around, you decide to celebrate the way you always have, alone.

he’s your friend, not a husband, so you don’t see any need in dragging him into this ordeal.

you bake a little cake for yourself a couple day in advance, just like you used to at your old home. you stash it away for when night rolls around and it’s just yourself, you can enjoy it the way you have for years.

when you were little you would gawk and stare at the lavish parties your father and his wife threw for your sisters, the balls and the presents growing bigger and bigger the more they grew up. you’d mimic their behaviors on your own, dressing up in the best dress you had (a hand me downs from your older sister that never fit quite right) and pretended you too were surrounded by a room of people as they watched you eat cake.

and sure, when you were younger you’d feel embarrassed eating by yourself surrounded by drawings of people you’d prop up on chairs, but it’s become tradition now (not the drawings, you realize now how depressing that must’ve looked).

so the night of your birthday you take the cake you had hidden in the back of the ice den out, bringing it to the corner of the kitchens where the cooks kept the little table for themselves and began cutting into it, cursing yourself for freezing it too long.

you serve yourself a piece, hunching over your plate as you dug in with your fork, eating in silence.

you write a little note for the cooks to enjoy the rest of it as you place it back in the den once you were done, going back to your room for the night.

the following day when you were walking around the library looking for something new you spot gojo talking to one of his advisors, his eyes focused and his tilted slightly as he gave him all of his attention.

you pause, holding back until you were sure they were done with their conversation to reveal yourself from behind one of the looming bookshelves, watching as the advisor bowed his head to you before he left.

the crease between his eyebrows relaxes, his eyes softening when you waved at him, your smile gleaming.

“i didn’t see you for breakfast,” he tells you as he walks over to where you were standing, pushing some of his hair back as you grin apologetically.

“i slept in,” you admit sheepishly, tired from last night as you play with your fingers, “i also might’ve been a little snippy with alina when she tried to wake me up.”

gojo snorts, absentmindedly pulling some books out and putting them back in as he rests his side on the wall of binded pages.

“baking?” he asks simply, knowing you well enough to know that the only reason you’d miss breakfast would be because you spent the majority of the night in the kitchens.

“how’d you know?” you tease, crossing your arms over your chest as he tsks, his fingers picking some stray leaves from your head from earlier when you were walking through the gardens.

“i help whisk the butter and sugar when you don’t feel like it. i don’t know why you keep me out of the kitchens,” he murmurs petulantly and you chuckle a little bit, rolling your eyes at his antics.

“it’s for your own sake,” you tell him, a glimmer in your eyes that he’d chase around the world the see, “and besides, i wasn’t baking. i was enjoying the fruits of my previous labor.”

gojo squints a little bit, confused. usually you eat what you make the night of, sometimes bringing a plate by his room if it’s not too late.

“when else did you bake this week without me?” he asks, trying to mask his hurt with a playful grin, trying to recall the times he heard back from one of his guards that you were down in the kitchens.

“only a few days ago, when i trying to assemble the cake.” you say with a shrug. his mouth opens in shock, a pout on his lips as he averts your gaze.

“you had cake? without me?” he almost whines it out and you shove his boot with the point of your shoe, trying to calm him down.

who would’ve thought the most fearsome warrior of the north, hell, the entire kingdom, would have such a sweet-tooth?

“it was small,” you try to reason, “and you wouldn’t have liked the flavors. it’s a recipe from the west.”

gojo groans, stepping closer to you as he gently flick your nose, watching the way you’d scrunch it up in annoyance.

“but you know i love cake,” he murmurs, “and you said you’d only bake it for birthdays…you lied to me,” his pink lips pull into a pout, one that you want to kiss off his gorgeous face, and control yourself from letting the heat get too much in your cheeks.

“well,” you quirk a brow, “if it helps, it was for a birthday.”

gojo looks up from the ground, brows furrowed once again in confusion.

“mine?” he says a little hopefully, as if it was anywhere near his birthday.

you snort, shaking your head as your finger pokes itself in your chest.

“mine…you idiot,” you mutter under your breath, wondering how somebody how his caliber could be so daft.

but he doesn’t seem to find it funny, in fact, his brows seem to meet in the middle, the pout gone form his lips as he frowns.

“what do you mean yours? your birthday isn’t for…? isn’t it in…?” he tries to think, think back to when your birthday was, only to realize he didn’t know, to realize he’d never asked you about it, always assuming it’d be something told to him.

“it’s nothing big,” you try to say quickly to cover up the awkwardness, “i usually just make myself a cake and get it over with.” you say with a chuckle but he’s not finding anything about this humorous.

great, you think bitterly to yourself, said something else and fucked it up. you wince, wishing you’d just stayed quite.

“your birthday was yesterday?” gojo asks, his voice hushed and heavy. he looks like he cares, he looks sad. you find it unnerving.

“i,” you laugh uncomfortably, fidgeting with your ring as you swallow thickly, “i think so...? i eyeball the day every year.”

truth be told you done really know what day you were born. your father never remembered the exact date seeing how the nature of his relationship with your mother was so secretive, and nobody ever found the true date out. so usually you find a date each year that you think matches with what time season you were born with and go with that.

gojo feels like his heart has slowed, watching the way you shrink into yourself the way he notices you’d i when you feel like you’ve done something wrong.

“eyeball?” he bites out and you wince at his tone, and he wishes he could take it back and start over again without the bite of a general in his words.

“look gojo it’s nothing, really,” you insist, waving him off as you try to escape, shifting around so you were closer to the doorway, “it’s just a day, it’s nothing important,” you tell him reassuringly.

but he doesn’t believe you, running a hand down his face as he pinches at the bridge of your nose.

“why do you write these things off as if they’re not important?” his voice is deep, echoing around the walls of the vast library as your hold your breath, “why don’t you-”

“because it’s not important,” you say again, your voice a little bit harsher, “it’s just a day.”

his eyes drown in blue, dark and wavering like the shoreline.

“then why bake a cake?” he snaps, not in anger but in genuine questioning, and your face falls a little.

maybe because years ago you thought it was something important. maybe because you want that little girl to feel like she matters.

he gapes, knowing he said something wrong, but can’t speak.

“i…” you open your mouth then close it again, looking away from him as you shrug, “i have to go, i - um, shoko asked for me.” you lie lamely, not caring as you bow your head down slightly to him before you briskly leave.

and maybe if you turned back you could see the way his face fell too.

but with all the maybes you’ve told yourself no to, you’ve grown accustomed to the belief that every maybe wouldn’t have a chance of becoming something.

because maybe if you had actually told him the truth when you wanted to a couple days ago, that you’d like to celebrate with him, he wouldn’t shut you down the way you’d imagined he would and maybe he would’ve said yes.

but for now you convince yourself that this man is a friend who pretends like he cares. because never once have you heard of a man caring so deeply for somebody that he’d shed a tear over the fact that you’d celebrate your birthday alone. but then again, you’ve never met a man like gojo before.