#she rarely explains herself
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one of the things about Frieren is that one of the main themes is humility — the difference between the heroes and the demons, the small lessons the party must learn, the understated likeableness of the protagonists, the subtle confidence lacking arrogance, the respect and acknowledgement of time and age, the treatment of nobility, the surprising reveals for both apprentices and enemies— it all revolves around genuine humility
#it’s subtle and gorgeous and I absolutely love it#frieren never brags#she rarely explains herself#the show doesn’t beat you over the head with THIS THIS IS THE MAIN LESSON TO LEARN#but it’s THERE#it’s honest#it’s amazing#g.txt#sousou no frieren#frieren: beyond journey's end#anime#fav#to write#reasons I’m an English major
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Thinking again about how even though Tavi is basically at conversational level of fluency in Eorzean by EW she starts improving leaps and bounds when she becomes friends with Eren bc she trusts him enough to be vulnerable and make mistakes that he can correct and this goes for her reading Eorzean as well (something she’s very insecure about) and I just …..two people…growing from one another….

#that and I hc that the Vieran language is shared between the eastern and shetona just with differences#having someone she can talk to and read in her mother tongue that can teach her makes her improve very quickly#Tavi was considered really smart and was well read back home so coming somewhere where she can’t speak well or even read gave her#a big insecurity complex and made her terrified to look dumb in front of others esp with being WoL#so she just….never picked up reading due to it hshssh#also one of the things eren picks up on when he speaks to her in Vieran is just how funny and clever/quickwitted she is#and how others rarely get to see that side of her due to language barrier#idk idk something about like#person leaving home and having to completely lose their identity and culture and even the ability to speak having to navigate all this#by herself makes me SO SAD!!#why in their OG incarnation before we knew anything about his backstory it was SO sweet to me he could understand her and her culture#and like she could finally talk person to person with someone and like …be a person not just wol#idk if I’m explaining well HSJSSN#ANYWAY THEY MAKE ME CRAZY !!!#tavi#taviville#tavi talks
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Also The Thursday Murder Club Series by Richard Osman is good.
Unless he's an asshole.
why aren't there more mysteries that take place in nursing homes & retirement communities. i want to watch a group of deranged retirees-cum-amateur-detectives combine their powers of:
decades of life experience
boredom-fueled busybody shamelessness
access to the most gossipy next-door-neighbors in existence
"I am too old to be arrested and/or give a shit" attitude
and solve crimes. this should be an enormous subgenre.
#their sidekick/watson/pet hacker is a 15 year old grandkid who hangs out with gram gram on the weekends#her only power is that she has above average search engine skills and flexible knees#which is completely sufficient to round out the group's skill set#they involve her in heist style operations#on the rare occasion she gets caught housebreaking she explains her grandma locked herself out of the condo and asked for help getting in#then this sweet slightly addled old lady shows up and explains she got the address mixed up#it's so confusing when you're old & all the houses look alike and oh she's so sorry to have caused so much trouble#and meanwhile the teenager is rolling her eyes bc she's aware gram gram was a career criminal & con artist for 50 years#anyway gimme a 80-year-old con artist turned amateur sleuth who loves getting older because people are less suspicious of little old ladies#this all takes place in florida naturally#not prev
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SPOTS — nanami kento
kento’s yellow tie goes missing. | wc: 1.0k
f!reader, established relationship (married), you have a daughter, fluff, kento can’t say no to his little girl, the backstory of how his tie came to be… unique, unedited, this was rushed and unplanned, satoru cameo at the end (i couldn’t help myself heh) | dividers made by me
kento’s tie didn’t always have the black spots it does today. it used to be a simple, bright yellow, void of the interesting pattern which was frankly — not of his own choosing. that is, until it went missing one morning.
the man searched high and low in a rush. at this rate, he would be late for work.
where he usually stored this specific yellow tie to go with this outfit in particular, he found the little pocket beside all his other neatly organized ones to be empty.
how unusual. it’s not as if it grew a pair of legs and walked away on its own.
“hm…”, he hummed to himself in thought, fist below his chin as he cruised his brain to remember where it was last seen. you watch from the bed, having just woken up, blinking away your drowsiness as your flustered husband tries retracing his steps.
even in your exhaustion, you can tell what this is about. he was your man after all.
after a minute of erratic pacing, kento turns to you, face determined and serious. before he can question if you knew about its whereabouts, you give a slight shake of the head.
still disoriented, slowly coming back down to earth, you reply hoarsely, “when i did the laundry, i put it in there. you can’t find it?”
you shuffle out of bed, your feet meeting the carpeted flooring as you make your approach to the dresser.
he grumbles under his breath, a small “no”, mind preoccupied with finding his lost tie.
“can’t you just wear another? i’ll find it later while you’re at work.” you suggest carefully, peeking into the dresser and admiring the variety in your husband’s collection.
you pick one out with a delicate touch, a light blue bordering white, holding it to his chest over his very blue dress shirt.
kento gives you a look, like he expects you to know the reason why. and even if he did, he doesn’t fail to explain it to you yet again. it is simply one of his quirks.
he pries the piece of fabric gently from your hands, folding it back up.
“you know the others don’t go well with this outfit, dearest. especially this one — it clashes with my shirt.”
you huff.
“oh, you—”
before you can respond in a teasing, exasperated manner like usual at his peculiar antics, the both of you turn your heads towards the doorway at the sound of excited little feet skipping down the hall. a small head of hair peeks in not a moment later.
“daddy’s tie?”, your little one inquires, the incomplete sentence endearing to your ears. she must’ve overheard your conversation and her father’s ceaseless shuffling so early in the morning.
“yes, baby. daddy’s tie is missing.” you smile sweetly, crouching slightly. “the yellow one.” you clarify.
your daughter blinks. and then she does it again.
“yellow?”, she repeats.
“mhm!”, you nod.
she takes your hand into both of hers. “i know!”
kento’s brows raise, fixing his sleeves down where he had previously rolled them up to his elbows, and you look down at her in surprise. “you do?”
you take a glance at your husband and then back again. “where is it?”
she doesn’t answer your question exactly, but she does giggle cheekily, “made it pretty.”
you don’t even have to turn back around to see that your husband had frozen in place from those three words. you continue to smile, though you were a bit wary.
“made it pretty..? what do you mean by that, baby?”
“was ugly… baby made it pretty…”, her voice trails off, getting more unsure and quiet by the second under her father’s blank stare.
with pursed lips and narrowed eyes, you hold back a snort.
you don’t know whether to laugh at the fact your daughter was referring to herself in the third person by the pet name you and her father tend to call her by, rarely mentioning her real one unless she was being naughty that she forgets it is even her own name — or that she decorated one of her daddy’s precious ties.
when kento fails to say anything, likely still in shock, you speak up.
“can you show me?”
hesitating slightly, your baby girl nods. she takes one of your fingers into her small hand, guiding you out of your bedroom and into her play room while kento follows closely and silently from behind.
upon entering, you notice it immediately on her play table beside a black, uncapped marker that was likely dried out at this point. she takes it, holding it up for both of you to see her spotty craftsmanship on the silky fabric.
kento’s tie did not, in fact, grow legs and wander off. but, it looks like it would.
“giraffe!”
the both of you stare wordlessly.
now, kento could be quite the complex man at times. he could just wear another color tie. or yet, if he’s feeling a little extra, go to a store on his lunch break and buy an identical one.
he decides, ultimately, it is too much of a hassle.
there is also the urge inside him to correct his daughter on her misconception that giraffe’s have black spots and that they were yellow — that the design is more akin to that of a lizard’s.
but the bright, sparkling eyes of his little girl peering up at him stops him before he can even utter a word.
he’ll probably purchase another one. for now, he guess he’ll just have to make do.
extra:
when kento heads to work half an hour later, he knows on the way there that he has to prepare. he knows what to expect from a certain someone.
as he steps foot into the building, he immediately hears the familiar voice from across the hall.
gojo satoru snorts.
“nice tie, nanami!”
#᠙𑣱 — aomi writes#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami fluff#nanami drabbles#nanami headcanons#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fluff#jjk drabbles#jjk headcanons#nanami kento x you#nanami x you#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#tw children
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25.02.2011 ⏳ today's timeline
idk if theres like canon pmmm lore abt it somewhere in an interview madokaheads lmk but i like to think their magical girl forms as being manifestions of their idealised selves while also reflecting certain facets of their psych. which could explain impracticality in battle attire like idk. homuras stiletto heels. sorry i know i knoww its magic its the genre shes a support not dps char their bodies feel less pain re their soul gems etc etc but whenever i watched homuras magical girl training montage i just thought abt how much it must hurt running on those lmao that being said id like to think their magical girl forms Can change like with shifting values or convictions but usually not very noticeably and only with small differences when they do due to their short lifespans. id imagine their forms just becoming dimmer/desaturated maybe with minisculely corrupted design elements like slightly warped motifs/off pattern details before they fall into despair to reflect disillusionment in the ideals and beliefs that manifested them originally. or maybe missing details to show how they dont remember what theyr fighting for. but id imagine them to look just slightly off like theyr barely holding it together before they burst and hatch into witches (itd be very cool to think of rare instances where magical girls hav complete upheavals in their belief systems and narrowly avoid becoming witches to manifest completely different forms instead. still itd just an intermittent form before the inevitable) but in homuras case since shes been a magical girl for around 100 loops i wanted to design a form that could reflect her psych after repeating a decade of adolescent trauma taking aspects of her original manifestation and fracturing, repeating, layering them to the point where it looks like its about to collapse in on itself before crystalising. she has much longer hair to convey how subconsciously she feels like she should be aging. longer sleeves that swallow her hands like clothes she shouldv grown into by now. two bows, the black one of her original length to represent the withered innocence of her wish and the shadow of her despair while its strangled by the bow of her original purple that stubbornly sits on top and stretches past it. added fingerless tactical gloves for her significantly accumulated knowledge in mechanical and explosive weaponry. i wanted to make her outfit giv off more of a witchy vibe too. shrug initially i drew her 1st version with nothing changed from her canon design besides braiding her 2 side bangs and i drew the wider heel on her 10th loop version but i rly wanted to do the diamond heel for her final one and the progression of her heel becoming sharper just made more visual sense if i switched it lol oh also i liked drawing her bangs shadowing so much of her eyes but i thought itd b fun to draw more of her eyes showing to symbolise how she metaphorically can see more clearly now. nothing about her physical non magical girl form changed but i think if homura can use her time magic to heal her eyes she can also use it to idk freeze her hair in a certain position so it doesnt get in the way instead of a haircut ghjfgdfgd anyway its fun for me to imagine her not noticing with how focused she is on saving madoka until one day she sees her reflection and is taken aback at how unrecognisable shes become to herself even while her actual body remains unchanged
#hello homura!#homura akemi#puella magi madoka magica#魔法少女まどか☆マギカ#sorry i talk too much. hope this makes sense and isnt just me repeating myself a lot#🩷#🔮
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Off-Duty - Dr. Jack Abbot x wife!reader



Summary: 1k words. Jack comes into the Pitt on his day off with no intention of working. One of his little guests has an affinity for raising his father’s blood pressure and adding to his gray hair. Part 2, Hung The Stars here!
Warnings: unnecessarily long sentences, so sweet it’ll rot your teeth fluff. Poking fun at the U.S. military industrial complex (specifically the Marines). Whitaker catching strays.
a/n: Allow me to contribute to the Girl Dad Abbot Agenda. I gave him fraternal twins here, but his new baby is also a girl. So. The Abbot household will be 3-2 girls-boys because feminism. Divider credit!
If looks could kill, Whitaker would be a dead man.
The med student was approaching the provider dictation desk, about to sit down in a padded rolling chair for the first time all shift when Doctor Abbot firmly gripped the back of the chair seconds before Whitaker could reach for it.
“Oh, uh, sir- I was just gonna sit down and do some charting,” the med student explained in a rush with his perpetual terrified ghost of a Victorian child look.
“You can stand.” Dr. Abbot deadpanned, snatching the chair and whisking it towards the peds ED room.
“Wha-” Whitaker stood, mouth slightly parted. The kid was intelligent and had come into his own throughout his emergency medicine rotation, but some things and some people still never ceased to shock him. He watched through the glass door as Dr. Abbot got far closer to a woman, whom he assumed was the peds patient’s mother, than was professionally necessary.
The woman came into full view, displaying the swell of her belly. The student raised his eyebrows. It was a bold move, even for Dr. Abbot. He estimated the woman to be at the end of her second trimester, if not well into her third.
A toddler bounced from behind the woman and quickly attached herself to Abbot’s leg (the flesh one, anyway). The attending smiled—perhaps for the first time in recorded human history, thought Whitaker—before picking up the child and propping her up on his hip, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
The mother turned to Abbot and smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips while he massaged her lower back with his free hands. His wedding band stuck out against the woman’s lighter shirt. Ah. The wife. A moan that definitely wasn’t appropriate for the workplace escaped the woman, seemingly unknowingly, leaving Abbot with a subtle smirk on his face.
Jack guided his wife into the comfortable chair he’d commandeered. Whitaker envied the relief on her face. The lumbar support cushion and ergonomic design could’ve made him cry. His body was aching for relief after hours on his feet, but he conceded that the woman needed it more than he did.
With a barely audible whimper, the med student went back to his original task. He’s startled when a foldable plastic chair, the ones that are typically kept in patient rooms for guests, unceremoniously clatters down next to him, brought over by none other than the stoic night shift attending.
“My wife said she’s sorry for stealing your seat. I’m not.” Dr. Abbot provided no further context before heading straight back to the room he came from. Some of the surrounding ED staff caught wind of the interaction and glanced up at the status board.
PEDS RM 1. 3 YRS 5 MOS MALE J. ABBOT. FOREIGN BODY INGESTION
Understanding hums sounded out before everyone went back to work.
It was rare to see Jack in anything other than black scrubs at the hospital. Today, he was in full Dad mode. The pink glitter nail polish on his fingers matched his daughter’s. His white New Balance sneakers and cargo shorts allowed a clear view of his prosthetic, which his son had decorated with dinosaur stickers. If you looked close enough, you could see a small apple sauce stain on his shirt.
You relaxed further into the chair and closed your eyes once Jack came back to witness your daughter Ellie toddling around the exam room. At 30 weeks pregnant, rest and comfort were becoming increasingly difficult to come by, especially when raising 3-year-old twins.
Dr. Collins caught Jack sitting at the end of the gurney with his son when she waltzed in, tailed by Matteo.
“What brings you all in today? It’s a pleasure to see the Abbot family. Some members more than others…” Heather teased, making a show out of whispering to Jack’s wife and tickling Ellie.
“Jacob here ate some crayons. Maybe some other stuff too. I want imaging of the GI tract to rule out any other foreign bodies or obstructions,” Jack rattled off, never taking his eyes off his son. The doctor’s leathered, weathered hand dwarfed his son’s small leg. Jack had a tough time letting go of his kids, especially when they were hurt or sick.
“Maybe he’s got a future career in the Marines,” Matteo joked.
“Watch it.” Jack warned with an even glare. The intense look on his face didn’t last long; his wife’s giggle brought a small smile to his face as he glanced toward her.
You winced when the baby delivered a particularly strong jab to your ribs. Jack’s smile quickly turned to concern before you shook your head to reassure him and ran a hand over your bump. Collins and Matteo didn’t miss the silent communication between the couple.
It made sense for the two of you. You were so in sync—always had been. The Pitt staff rarely got to see Jack’s wife, which you supposed was a good thing. Jack tried to keep his personal and professional life separate, but he’d become known for loving you and your little family so much. He would take your calls in the middle of a shift, routinely add more photos of his family to his locker, and occasionally show up to work with glittery nail polish if he forgot to remove it before clocking in.
Doctor Collins high-fived little Jacob, who was the spitting image of his father, after he tolerated the physical exam.
“No guarding or tenderness. Bowel sounds are hypoactive but present. Has he been NPO otherwise?” The physician glanced between the parents.
“We had breakfast around 8,” you supplied, exhaling when you got another sharp kick straight to the bladder.
“Alright. I’ll put in the imaging orders. Radiology will come and grab you guys soon,” Dr. Collins waved goodbye to the toddlers.
Matteo kept a stash of stickers in his scrub pocket for the kiddos that came into the Pitt. Jacob gladly accepted one and promptly stuck it on Jack’s prosthetic. Matteo blinked a couple of times, watching the exchange.
Jack was unfazed. His children seldom went a day without leaving their mark on him. If painted nails and a decorated prosthetic leg made them happy and preserved their innocence, he was happy to be a canvas.
The racecar was a fun addition to the dinosaurs anyway.
a/n: Please let me know what you think! Reblogs & comments keep me motivated <3
Companion piece: Hung The Stars
master list | post notifications @thesewordsxupdates
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chasing ghosts
dr. abbot x f!resident!reader masterlist content: 18+ mdni, sexually explicit content, lots of angst, age gap, swearing, alcohol, mentions of child death/multiple casualties at the beginning during a shift words: 8.1K synopsis: you and jack share a kiss during your second year of residency and you spend the next two years trying to outrun those feelings. until the pitt's annual summer party. jack abbot is down absolutely fucking horrendously. like i meaaaaan unprecedented levels of yearning. a/n: hi, i think i blacked out while writing this. eyeeeee had so so much fun. i hope i did jack justice. let me know what you think!!!!
The annual summer party for the Pitt is an all day affair in order to make sure everyone, regardless of who’s working what shift that day, has a chance to stop in.
You wouldn’t think it, but the ER knew how to throw a good party. In the morning, it started with brunch at a place downtown with bottomless mimosas, top tier pancakes, and a drag performance. After brunch, they’d go hang out at the park by the river for a few hours before reconvening for dinner and bar hopping downtown.
Jack Abbot was off today, but still skipped all the morning and afternoon activities in favor of the evening. His sleep schedule was built that way now and even on his off days, it was rare for him to be out during the day. Besides, he was hoping he’d run into you there after your own shift.
You never came to these types of events, but that didn’t stop him from hoping every time. His eyes were always searching, hoping they’d stumble upon yours.
He hadn’t seen or spoken to you much in the last two years, since you switched to the day shift. When shift change occurred, you largely avoided him. He asked Robby about you and Robby always said the same thing, “She’s a great doctor, but she keeps to herself.”
It hadn’t been like that when you were on the night shift. You were shy, sure, but it hadn’t taken Jack very long to pry you out of your shell.
He wondered sometimes if you regretted it, now. Letting him in.
Now, he was making the rounds at the first bar of the night, not so subtly looking for you.
“You’re pathetic,” Robby teased as he sipped his beer.
“Huh?” Jack said, finally bringing his eyes back to the man in front of him.
Robby smirked knowingly, “She is here, you know.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” He said, “But her boyfriend is supposed to be meeting her here.”
His heart stuttered in his chest, “Boyfriend?”
Robby nodded, “I didn’t know she was seeing anyone until today. I overheard her mention it to Heather.”
Fuck. Not only were you seeing someone, you were bringing him here, to meet everyone in the Pitt. You must’ve been serious about him, then.
“Do you know where she is?”
Robby tilted his head as he looked at Jack, “You sure you wanna go down that road?”
“I just want to talk to her.” He said, and it was true. Mostly.
The two of you hadn’t had a real conversation since the week before you had requested the shift change. That night on the roof. He felt it was long overdue for the two of you to sit down and talk about it like adults. Maybe Robby was right, maybe it was much too late for that.
But Jack couldn’t accept that.
Robby sighed heavily, “I saw her go upstairs to the rooftop bar with Heather and Samira twenty minutes ago.”
“Thanks, brother.” Jack clapped him on the back as he headed up the stairs.
***
You liked the quiet of the night time. Being awake and working when everyone else was asleep brought with it a sort of peaceful solitude you couldn’t quite explain.
But Jack hadn’t needed you to explain, he had understood it intrinsically.
The night shift, of course, could become hectic and even nightmarish at times. But if you stepped outside for some air, either on the roof or the ambulance bay, the quiet of the night cocooned you in safety.
And that’s where you were that night two years ago, on the roof and leaning over the railing, trying to catch your breath.
There had been a six car pile up almost immediately rushed in after the day shift had trickled out. Ten patients. Four of them were in critical condition when they arrived, in that terrible purgatory between life and death. For five hours, you, Abbot, Shen, and Ellis had bounced between them. Still, you lost all four of them.
You had kept it together for the half hour after you had called the last patient, despite the fact that you had felt Jack’s eyes on you the whole time.
But he seemed able to keep it together, to not fall apart, so you would too. The knee jerk response to impress him, to make him proud of you had never quite dulled in your two years of residency. It felt a bit fucking pathetic, actually.
Worse, still, that he seemed to notice how badly you craved his validation and so gave it freely.
“Hey,” He stepped close to you, his warm breath caressing your cheek, “Go take a break, I’ll come find you in fifteen.”
“I don’t need a break.” You said quickly.
“You do,” He said, undeterred, “You’ve been staring dead eyed at the board for the last two minutes. Shen tried to call you over for a code stroke thirty seconds ago and you didn’t blink.”
You turned to him finally, panic on your face, “Fuck, seriously?”
You started to walk to go find Shen and the stroke patient, but Jack grabbed your arm, “Nope, uh-uh. Break first. Now.”
It was rare that Jack wasn’t joking with you, trying to make you smile. Now he looked deadly serious. Like he would physically remove you from the floor himself if you refused. You must’ve looked like shit.
“Okay.” You said finally, “Fine.”
He released your arm, but his eyes trained on your every step as you walked away, “I catch you on a patient in the next fifteen minutes and I’m sending you home.” He called after you.
You raised your hand over your head in a thumbs up to signal that you’d heard and kept walking.
And that was how you ended up on the roof. Bathed in the moonlight with the quiet midnight streets of Pittsburgh below, silent tears streamed down your cheeks as you greedily sucked the night air into your lungs.
You weren’t aware of time passing and your mind had gone blissfully blank until you heard him come up behind you.
“How come you, Ellis, or Shen didn’t need a break?” You asked, your voice wavering, “Is there something wrong with me?”
He leaned over the railing at your side and turned his head to look at you, but you avoided his eyes, knowing they’d be soft and warm and inviting. You did not need to see him looking at you like that right now. Just like you had been trying not to notice the way he watched you more than the others, touched you more than was necessary, handed out praise to you more generously.
“Not even a little bit.” He said softly, voice rough, “You were perfect down there. Nothing else you could have done.“
You breathed out a shaky breath, “Then why does it feel so bad?”
“Because you’re human,” He said softly, “And because you were the only one of us to call time of death on a seven year old tonight.”
You swallowed, tilting your head up towards the sky so you could see the moon. A moon that seven year old kid would never see again. “Does it ever hurt less?”
“Fuck, no.” He sighed, “But it makes you a better doctor, I think. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself to try to make it all mean something.”
Finally, you looked at him, and the sight of your red rimmed eyes wrecked him, “It does make you a better doctor,” You hiccuped and gave him a small smile, “The best, probably.”
He shook his head, smirking, and looked down at his hands, “Careful, kid. You keep talking like that, I might think you actually like me.”
Feeling brave, you nudged your shoulder against his, “I mean it. I feel really grateful that you’re my attending. I wouldn’t want to learn under anyone else.”
He pushed his shoulder back against yours and your hands brushed where they each grasped the railing, “I came up here to make you feel better and somehow you’re the one comforting me. How did you get so good at deflecting?”
You laughed through your tears and he relished the sound, “I learned from the best,” You said pointedly as you looked over at him.
“See,” He pointed at you, teasing, “That’s what I’m talking about. Much better. You’re way less unsettling when you’re mean.”
You smiled and he found himself staring at your mouth, enraptured by it, really. The truth was, he had noticed the ways in which he was better when he was around you. Both as a doctor and a teacher. You made him want to be better. He knew he had been giving you more attention than the others, bordering on an inappropriate amount. And he knew, before he came up to the roof, that he’d have a hard time being alone with you and not imagining what you taste like or what your soft skin would feel like under his calloused hands.
He thought you felt the same, but you could be hard to read sometimes. Sometimes, he swore you leaned into his touch, other times you jumped away from it as if he had burned you. Sometimes you went whole days seemingly trying to avoid him, others you followed him around like a puppy waiting for a pat on the head and for him to tell you what a good girl you are.
But now, fuck, now you were gazing at his mouth, too. And he tried, really fucking tried, to rein in the desire. He shouldn’t have kissed you. And he would think about it every day for days and weeks and months and years how badly he wished he could take it back. Not because he didn’t mean it or didn’t want it, but because it had started this downward spiral of silence and distance until you were so far away he hadn’t really seen you up close in two years. If he could go back, he would’ve told himself it wasn’t worth it. Because having only this much of you day in and day out while he yearned for more was better than having nothing at all, than you slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.
But he didn’t know then what he knew now.
Cautiously, he moved his face towards yours, waiting for you to pull back. But inch by inch he moved, and you stayed put. And when he was close enough to share breath with you, he met your eyes and was greeted with pupils that had completely devoured your irises. No color in sight, just an endless abyss of desire and want. Your breath faltered when his lips just barely brushed yours, and he stilled for a moment before his self restraint crumbled.
The kiss was hesitant and gentle, at first. Jack kept his hands to himself, slowly kissed you in a way that repeatedly seemed to ask Is this okay? Is this alright? Are you okay? Are you sure?
It was you who deepened the kiss first, tongue darting out to swipe gently at his lower lip.
And the cord between you, that was already so tenuous and frayed, snapped.
His hands shook as he touched you, moving from your waist, to your neck, to your face. It was like his body knew first what his brain didn’t, that he was taking too much and not enough, that hours and days and months and years of touching you would never satiate him anyway and he should just fucking quit while he was ahead. His traitorous mouth that moaned into yours was a bottomless, greedy pit and it could never have you, not really, not even as it sucked desperately at your neck in a useless attempt to mark you as his.
The marks would fade and you would fade from him along with them.
He thinks now he probably knew as soon as you pulled away, at the panic in your eyes, that he had lost you before he had even really had the chance to have you.
But he would deny it to himself, even as you ran off the roof ignoring the way your name came out strangled from his throat.
He would deny it when you didn’t look at him the rest of the night, when you pretended not to hear when he tried to talk to you after the shift change that morning.
He would deny it when you handed him your shift change request form after a week of avoiding him, asking for his signature as you looked anywhere but at him.
He would deny it when his broken voice asked “Is this really what you want?” and you only silently nodded.
Jack Abbot knew he had lost you, he wasn’t delusional, but he could convince himself it was only temporary. He was patient. So fucking patient. He’d find you again, when you were ready.
***
Jack could admit that you having a boyfriend had not been part of his plan. Not that he had a plan, more so an overwhelming sense that if he waited long enough, you’d fall back into him.
But you had still been fleeing the ER at shift change without acknowledging him. He was patient, but it aggravated him to no end, the way you seemed so unaffected. Sometimes it made him feel like maybe he had made it all up in his head and that you had never wanted him at all. But then the film would play on loop again in his head and he knew he didn’t imagine your blown out pupils or the way you deepened the kiss first or the way you moaned when his mouth plucked bruises from your neck like ripened strawberries.
You had wanted him just as badly, he was sure of that. He just couldn’t understand why you were still acting like he didn’t exist.
When he got to the rooftop and looked around, he found you first at a table in the corner, eyes glued to your phone. Another quick glance around and he saw Heather and Samira talking at the bar.
Perfect. You were alone.
When he crossed the roof and sat in the empty seat next to you and you didn’t immediately look up, he realized you had marked his presence on the rooftop as soon as he got here.
The man was like a fucking sonar to your brain. You knew when he was in the same room as you before your eyes could track him. Tonight was no different.
“You look like you could use a drink.” Jack said.
Oh, you hadn’t realized how much you had missed the pleasant roughness of his voice, how it soothed you effortlessly. It practically sent chills down your spine.
You swallowed, continuing to stare at your phone. The second you met those warm hazel eyes, it would be over for you, you knew. It was the reason you had avoided him so diligently the last two years.
“Heather and Samira are getting me one.”
He wordlessly held his own drink out to you. When you stared blankly at it for a few moments, he shook it lightly, ice rattling against the glass, “It’s just a tequila soda. It’s not poison.”
Against your better judgment, and perhaps to indulge that stupid fucking instinct in your head that demanded you not disappoint him, you took it from him. You did your best not to pay attention to the sensation that shot across your skin when your fingers brushed, but the traitorous goosebumps spread across your arms anyway.
You took a sip and handed it back to him, still looking at your phone.
“Why aren’t you with them at the bar?”
“I had to take a call.”
“From your boyfriend?” Finally, fucking finally, you looked at him. It was disdain all over your face, but fuck it, he’d take it. He smirked and held his hands up in surrender, “I didn’t ask, Robby told me. Said he was meeting you here.”
Quickly, you looked back at your phone and he saw your throat bob, “He called to say he couldn’t make it, so.”
Jack watched you carefully, the way you frowned and your mouth turned down just slightly. You were upset, and not just at him.
“I’m sorry,” He said softly, but you scoffed at his apology and shook your head. And that pissed him off, “Look, you may fuckin’ hate me, but I still care about you and I mean it. I’m sorry if he stood you up. I don’t like seeing you sad.”
You rubbed at your forehead in agitation, “I don’t hate you. I’ve never fucking hated you. That’s the problem.”
Well, that was news to him. But he decided not to comment on it. He didn’t want to piss you off anymore than he already had, which seemed to be an awful lot considering he had just got here.
“How long have you been together?” You shot him that annoyed look again, “Christ, I’m just making conversation.”
“Right,” You said sarcastically and shook your head, but you answered all the same, “Two and a half years.” You said quietly. It hadn’t quite caught up to you yet, what you were admitting when telling him that. It took a couple of moments for your brain to catch up, but by then it was too late.
But Jack’s brain was already there, making the mental calculations you had long forgotten about.
Two and a half—? No, that—That couldn’t be right. Because that would mean—
Your face and ears had reddened and you wouldn’t look at him.
Jack’s ears were ringing. He started to say your name—
“Dr. Abbot,” Heather and Samira were back, the latter handing you a drink, “Catching up with your old resident?”
He forced a smile and stood, acted like his world wasn’t fucking falling apart around him, like you hadn’t just dropped a fucking bomb on him in casual conversation.
He was impressed with his ability to hold damn near cheerful conversation with Heather and Samira until he was able to excuse himself.
And this time, it was you who called after him when he left the roof.
“Jack,” Your voice was a soft plea behind him. It was a language he used to be fluent in, but clearly, he didn’t fucking know you anymore. He was starting to think he never had, “Jack, wait—“
He rounded on you in the stairwell, you still a couple of steps above him so the two of you were eye level, “Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”
You seemed to be caught off guard that he had actually stopped, and just blinked at him for a moment, “What difference would it have made?”
“What difference—?” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “All this time I’ve been driving myself out of my goddamn mind trying to figure out what I did wrong when it turns out I was your fucking, what, side piece? Affair?”
“Affair?” You hissed incredulously, “We kissed once!”
He squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head, “Does he know?”
“What?”
He was quickly becoming frustrated with your inability to keep up with the urgency this situation demanded. To him, at least, the whole world had shifted around him. And you were behaving as if he was the one acting crazy.
“Your boyfriend, does he know? About us?”
“Jack,” You said breathlessly, “There is no us. There was never an us.”
Jack shook his head, “How do you do it?”
“Do what?” You asked, exasperated.
“I’ve been pining after you for two fucking years and you’ve compartmentalized so goddamn well that you’ve convinced yourself it was nothing. That it meant nothing.”
For a second, he thought he saw a flicker of the version of you he used to know. Your face faltered for just a second, but then the walls were immediately back up, “I don’t owe you anything.” You said coldly, “It’s not my fault you’ve spent the last two years chasing a ghost.”
You stared each other down for a few more moments, the rage pulsating between you, before Jack broke your stare by tossing back the rest of his drink, “You’re right,” He said finally, and turned away from you to head down the stairs, “I’m sorry I disrupted your evening. Won’t happen again.”
You sighed, “Jack—“
“It’s Dr. Abbot,” He said coldly, turning back to face you again, “If you don’t mind.”
Your face fell marginally and he almost took it back when he thought he saw your lower lip wobble, but he couldn’t be sorry. If you wanted to pretend like there was nothing between the two of you, then he would do the same.
He turned again and jogged down the rest of the stairs. He needed another drink. Or seven.
***
Your hands were shaking. You stood in the stairwell staring stupidly after Jack for longer than was acceptable. You couldn’t go back upstairs to Heather and Samira like this, they’d know something was up. And you certainly couldn’t follow after Jack.
You should just go home. It was a stupid fucking idea to come here in the first place, you knew it was. And still you had come, why?
Because some part of you wanted to see him? No matter how much you denied it? Never mind the fact you had basically only invited your boyfriend because you knew his presence would keep you accountable if you were forced to be alone with Jack?
You hadn’t wanted him here, not really. Not for reasons that made sense. If you were honest with yourself, which you hadn’t been in a long, long time, your relationship had been over for at least six months.
Seeing Jack again, hearing his voice again made that very clear to you. And a part of you hated Jack for it. You had been able to convince yourself for two years that your current relationship was as good as it would get. Your mistake with Jack on the roof was just that, a mistake. Nothing more.
You had thought after all this time Jack must’ve felt the same. He fucked up and kissed his hot, younger resident, just once. He hadn’t meant to and he would be glad it was all over. You had been doing him a favor, you thought.
But when you had allowed yourself to look at him, really look at him tonight, that hadn’t been what you’d seen. In fact, he was angry with you. He had looked at you with such hurt and betrayal as if all this time he had been in love with you.
It didn’t make any fucking sense. You sat in the stairwell and pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes. None of it made any fucking sense.
You should go home.
***
Robby eyed Jack with silent suspicion when he joined him back at the bar and ordered two tequila sodas. He knocked the first one back in one go and then rested his head in his hands on the bar top.
“So it went well, I take it?” Robby asked mildly.
Jack glared at Robby and then looked back at his drink, “She has a boyfriend.”
Robby nodded, “Right. I’m glad we’re on the same page about that, now.”
Jack shook his head and felt the tequila make its way through him, “No, you see, she’s had a boyfriend. Since before she moved to the day shift. The same one.”
Robby was silent for a moment, then, “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Jack knocked back his second tequila soda and ordered another.
“Alright, I can see you’re upset, but all the tequila sodas in the world aren’t going to make you feel better.”
“No,” Jack agreed, “But maybe it’ll stop me from thinking about her for just a while.”
Just then, as Robby was trying to subtly get the bartender to cut off Jack, Robby’s phone buzzed with a text from Heather.
What did Abbot say to Y/N? Found her crying in the stairwell. She won’t stop.
He sighed heavily and turned back to Jack, “You made her cry?”
“What?” Jack looked at him incredulously, “No.”
“Heather says she’s sobbing in the stairwell.”
Oh, he hated the way that sent an ache through him. There was a time when he would’ve taken off running to get to you if he had heard that. Maybe even just earlier today. Not now, though.
“Believe me, her eyes were fucking bone dry when I left her.”
Robby’s phone buzzed again.
Never mind. Finally got her to say something coherent. Broke up with her boyfriend over the phone. Nothing to do with Abbot.
Christ. Nothing to do with Abbot. Right, Robby thought and rubbed a hand down his face, somehow he doubted that very much.
Robby looked back at his friend, debating if he should deliver this news to Jack or not. But Jack was very drunk now and he’d probably just tear after you like a man on a mission. Neither of you needed that right now, Robby thought. He’d tell Jack in the morning.
***
Heather and Samira sat on either side of you as you tried and failed to explain everything to them. You were very bad at this. Having work friends. Shen and Ellis had tolerated you, always including you, buying you coffee, but you knew really you were mostly third wheeling. And you hadn’t minded it. You had always tried to draw a firm line between your work and personal life, which is probably why the situation with Jack fucked you up so badly.
Heather started again, “So you and Abbot—“
“Yes.”
“And that’s why you switched to the day shift.”
“Yes.”
“And Jack also wanted you moved to the day shift?”
This is where things got murky for you. Tiredly, you rubbed your eyes, “I don’t know what Jack wanted because I never asked.”
“He didn’t know about your boyfriend then, either?”
You shook your head slowly, “I thought the fact that I was his resident was excuse enough. I left because I didn’t trust myself around him and I thought it’d be easier on us both.”
“And today was the first time you’d really spoken in two years?”
“Yes.”
“And this one conversation spurred you to break up with your long term boyfriend on a whim?”
You looked at Heather and smirked, “So you’re getting it now? Why I should be institutionalized?”
Heather and Samira both laughed, but Heather shook her head, “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re finally being honest with yourself about your feelings. Which is really fucking brave.”
“I say we go to the next bar and get very drunk.” Samira said, standing.
“Oh, I— No,” You shook your head, panicking, “What if he’s there?”
“Oh, I hope he is.” Heather laughed and the two of them linked arms with you.
***
Robby walked silently next to Jack as they made their way to the next bar, his hands stuffed in his pockets, “Brother, I really think maybe you should just sleep this one off.”
Jack turned to Robby, “It’s only 10 PM which is roughly 10 AM by my standards. So there will be no sleeping from me for a while. But you, by all means, can go home.”
Robby inhaled slowly through his nose. He was fucking exhausted, but he didn’t trust Jack in this state. And he had seen you go off with Heather and Samira not too long ago, headed in the same direction they were walking in right now.
So he kept walking, eyeing Jack every so often until they got to the bar.
He should have just gone home, probably.
Because once they got to the bar, all hell broke loose.
***
The room was spinning. The text had come in just moments after back to back lemon drop shots and your vision was blurred. You were unsure if it was from tears or the alcohol.
“Hey, what happened?” Samira was shouting in your ear over the din of the bar.
You passed the phone to her wordlessly as you ordered another shot. You needed to be belligerent if you were going to survive this.
Samira’s jaw dropped as she watched the video. She scrubbed back and forth a few times before she handed the phone back to you.
“This is the boyfriend who couldn’t meet you here because of ‘work’?”
You nodded.
“Well, you made the right call then, breaking up with him.”
You laughed humorlessly, and then you were sobbing, “I don’t know… why I care…” You hiccuped, “I don’t think I’ve loved him for a long time.”
Samira sighed, rubbing a hand down your back, “It sounds like you tried really hard to salvage the relationship. Probably feels like a waste of almost three years of your life now,” This renewed your sobs and Samira looked at you with alarm, “I’m not saying I think you wasted three years, I just mean, it probably felt that way— I’m gonna go find Heather, she’s much better at this sort of thing.”
Alone, you ordered a drink and wiped at your cheeks. You knew Jack was next to you before you smelt his cologne and sighed heavily.
“Don’t worry,” He said softly, “I’m just getting a drink and then I’ll go as far away from you as possible.”
You only nodded. The man you had chosen to fight for had stood you up to go to a bar across town and make out with the coworker he swore for months you had nothing to worry about while your best friend unknowingly filmed him from across the room.
The man you were beginning to suspect had been in love with you for close to four years now, you had spent the last two years running away from and now he hated you.
It felt like a big cosmic joke.
You rested your head on your arms and willed him away so you wouldn’t have to confront the long string of bad decisions you’d made that had led you here.
But Jack just couldn’t resist when you looked so miserable, “Are you alright, kid? Hate seeing you like this.”
You pushed your head up and met his eyes. Despite your earlier argument, he was looking at you with tenderness and concern. He meant it, that he cared, you could see it all over him. It made you want to burst into tears again. And maybe that’s why you decided to poke the bear, see how far you could push, what would make him really, truly loathe you? It was what you deserved after all, right?
You turned your head away from him and unlocked your phone, tapping to the video your friend had sent, hitting play and sliding it over the bar top to Jack, “You’ll be happy to know this is what my boyfriend was too busy doing to meet me tonight. Some sort of fucked up karma, I suppose.”
Jack’s face betrayed nothing as he watched the video, but you thought maybe a muscle in his jaw ticked. He slid the phone back to you, “Whatever you think of me, I’m not enjoying this.”
You scoffed and shook your head, looking down at the bar top.
“I’m serious. I would never—“ You hear him sigh in frustration, “Just because I’m hurting doesn’t mean I wish you were hurting, too. If anything, if you were happy, maybe it’d all make more sense to me.”
He tapped his finger on top of your phone case, “That guy’s a fucking idiot. You deserve way better than that.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, carefully avoiding looking at him, “Hey,” He said and crooked a finger under your chin, gently pulling until you met his gaze, “You deserve better, okay?”
You were conscious of the fact that you wanted to kiss him. And you knew he saw the way your eyes drifted dangerously to his mouth.
“I did the same thing to him.” You said quietly, still staring at his mouth, “Only seems fair.”
Jack released your chin and shook his head, “Don’t compare what we did to… To that.”
He sounded disgusted and it made you want to laugh, “How is it any different?”
“That is just drunken lust.” He leaned towards you on his forearms, “What we did meant something. Maybe not to you, but it did to me.”
“And that makes it better?”
“Did it mean something to you?” He shot back.
His face was very close to yours now, you could smell the tequila on his breath.
“Tell me,” He said slowly, “Tell me it didn’t mean anything to you and I swear to God, I’ll walk away and you’ll never hear from me again.”
You swallowed, blinking rapidly to clear the watering of your eyes. Of course you couldn’t tell him it meant nothing. You had thought about it nearly every day for two years.
But you were drunk and a fucking wreck and you didn’t know anything anymore except that you still remembered exactly what Jack Abbot tasted like and that he was looking at you right now like he would get on his knees for you in this crowded bar if you asked.
“I should go.” You whispered softly, broken, and slid from your bar stool.
He let you pass, but then called after you, loudly enough that people around you quieted, “What the fuck are you so scared of?”
You turned back, knowing that your face was flushed from the attention of others, “Goodnight, Dr. Abbot.”
***
“Hey, let her go,” Robby stood in front of Jack who was now trying to exit the bar and follow after you, “You’re drunk.”
“I’m fine,” Jack insisted, and when he looked around Robby, he saw it had started to downpour outside, “She’s drunk and it’s storming out there.”
“Heather will check in with her and make sure she gets home okay.”
Jack looked from the door to Robby a few times before sighing and running a hand through his hair, “Sorry, I just… She really gets under my fucking skin.”
Robby nodded and tried to stifle a yawn, “I noticed.”
Jack sighed, “Go home, Robby, seriously. I’m not gonna do anything stupid. I promise.” He shook his head, “I should probably just go home, too.”
Robby offered a sad smile and clapped him on the shoulder, “It’ll all make more sense in the morning, brother.”
Jack snorted, “Historically, that has never been true for me.”
***
It felt pretty melodramatic to be standing in the park overlooking the river as it poured. It was all very Jane Austen of you, you decided. Except Mr. Darcy would not be showing up to declare his love for you, Mr. Darcy was likely dry and headed home in his UberX.
You didn’t know where home was anymore. Luckily, you hadn’t moved in with your boyfriend yet. It was one of the many things that should have been a red flag, the fact that you hadn’t had a desire to cohabitate with him. You liked when he left in the morning and you liked the nights where he got home too late and went to his own apartment so as not to disturb your rest.
But still, there were traces of him all through your apartment. You didn’t want to be there.
You’re not sure how long you sit in the warm rain before your phone buzzed. You expected Heather or Samira, but were shocked to see Jack’s name on the banner, alerting you to a text.
Jack hadn’t texted you in something like two years.
I know I shouldn’t be texting you, it read, But I just want to be sure you got home safe. Please text when you’re home.
After staring at your phone for a few minutes, now soaked with the rain, you attempted to dry the screen with the sleeve of your jacket. It worked only slightly, but allowed you to hold down the text and “like” it.
After about thirty seconds, the speech bubble appeared on your phone to indicate he was typing.
Well don’t just fucking like the message. Are you home?
You could lie, you supposed. Probably, you could walk into PTMC and sleep in an empty room upstairs.
But you were growing tired of all the pretending.
no. You replied finally.
His reply was immediate, Where are you?
in the park.
It’s raining.
excellent observation, dr. abbot.
You stared at the screen as his speech bubble appeared and disappeared, over and over, for a couple minutes.
Send me your location. Then, almost as an afterthought, Please.
This was a bad idea, probably. After the events of today, you should not be sending Jack Abbot your location. You should not be speaking to Jack Abbot at all. After today, you should probably resign from your residency and maybe join a convent.
You watched as seemingly of their own volition, your hands tapped all the right buttons to send Jack a pin.
A few moments later, he texted a screenshot of an Uber being sent to your location with the car information and license plate.
i don’t want to go home. You sent him in a rush.
Yeah, I got that, he replied, The Uber is bringing you to me.
You blew a long breath out between your lips, you sure that’s a good idea?
Nope. Uber’s pulling up now.
Sure enough, headlights lit up the raindrops behind you. You turned to see the car, quickly giving the license plate a cursory once over to make sure it matched what Jack sent.
You could send the car off. Say it was a mistake. Not get in. Showing up at Jack’s apartment soaked to the skin in the middle of the night, still drunk and emotionally unstable felt like boarding a train you knew would derail.
You still got in the car, though. You didn’t have anywhere else to go.
***
When Jack opened the door to his apartment, the frigid air from his AC assaulted you and you shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself.
He stepped aside to allow you in and you kicked off your water logged shoes.
You had been here only once before, the first week of your residency. Jack would host a team dinner (early, so you could all still make your shift in time) whenever a new resident was added to the night shift.
You had been really nervous you recalled, until Jack had cracked a joke that made you choke on your soda.
It had been almost four years, but his apartment hadn’t changed much at all. It was neat and tidy, nothing out of place. The furniture was well taken care of, but everything was in varying shades of gray and blue. The only hints of personality being some pictures on his fridge, vinyls by a stereo, and some books on a shelf.
But one photo on his fridge caught your eye and before you knew what you were doing, you were walking to it.
Early in your second year of residency, you had presented your research on cardiogenic pulmonary edema outcomes in the ER at a conference in New York. Jack had shown up without telling you he was coming. He stayed near your poster all day while you presented to interested passersby, giving you a thumbs up or “solid work” when you needed it, smuggling you snacks, making sure you drank water. And at the end of it you remembered he took you out to dinner and told you how proud he was of you and what a great emergency medicine doctor you would be.
You had taken a picture with him in front of your poster and this was the photo on his fridge. You had a huge smile on your face and Jack had an arm wrapped around your shoulders.
“I didn’t know you had this.” You said softly.
He didn’t say anything so you turned to look at him, but his eyes were trained on the photo, “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes,” He said finally, walking by you to his bedroom.
You watched in his doorway as he pulled a pair of clean sweatpants and a t shirt from his closet and placed them at the edge of his bed, “The shower’s in that room,” He pointed to a door off the bedroom, “There’s clean towels under the sink, use whatever soap you like.”
He started to walk past you, but you grabbed his arm, and he stopped, eyes snagging on the hand that was touching him, “Thank you.” You said softly.
His eyes slowly roved upwards until they met yours. He searched your face, though you weren’t sure what he was looking for, then pressed a kiss to your forehead before he left the room.
***
After you were showered and changed, you wandered out to the living room where Jack sat on the couch, an arm draped over his forehead. He had taken his prosthetic off and it was propped up next to the coffee table.
When he heard you pad into the room, he cracked his eyes open, “Feeling better?” You nodded. “Good. Take the bed, I’ll sleep out here.”
But you still stood there, staring at him, arms wrapped around yourself, “Do you love me?” You asked, voice small.
He stared at you for a moment and sat up, running a hand over his face, “Have I not made it painfully obvious?”
“For how long?”
He shook his head and smiled at you incredulously, “You don’t get to do this.”
“Do what?”
“You’ve been in control of this,” He gestured between the two of you, “From the second I fucking met you and now you’re trying to what, decode the situation? See what outcome is most advantageous? I mean, Jesus Christ, what do you want?”
“What do I want?”
“Yes,” He said, “Not what seems correct, not what seems rational, what is it that you want?”
“I—“ You shook your head, “I don’t– I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.” He said firmly, “Do you want your cheating boyfriend?”
You frowned, “No.”
“Did you ever want him?”
You huffed in frustration, “What do you mean?”
“I mean when you chose him over me, was that what you wanted?”
“That’s not a fair characterization of what happened—“
“Was it what you wanted?”
You faltered, “It was what was safest.” You said softly.
He smiled at you sadly, “He couldn’t hurt you if you didn’t love him, right?”
You stared up at the ceiling, willing the tears back into your eyes, “I didn’t think it meant that much to you.”
“You never gave me the chance to tell you.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, “I’ll ask you again, what do you want?”
You looked at him, eyes watering, and you swallowed hard before you moved to him. He watched you as you placed a knee on either side of his legs, straddling his lap. His eyes followed your every movement reverently, your face just above his as you rested your forehead against his. His hands knotted themselves in your hair, “I’m scared,” You breathed shakily into his mouth.
“Of what?” He asked, his mouth near centimeters from yours.
“Of you. Of wanting you too much. Of losing you. Of everything.”
“I can’t promise you that this will work,” He said softly, “But I can promise I’ll fight like hell to make it work.”
You swallowed, “Because you love me?”
Finally, he laughed, “Yes, I fucking love you. Now be quiet.” He said before he kissed you.
He tasted exactly like you remembered, except tonight, there were remnants of tequila on his tongue. It was like he was trying to make up for lost time, the way he kissed you on that couch. He pushed his tongue into your mouth almost immediately, like he was searching for something he’d lost. Already, you were out of breath, hips grinding down on him without realizing. He sucked your lower lip into his mouth and bit down gently, groaning when you rubbed yourself on his growing erection.
“Slow down,” He chastised.
“You started it.” You reminded him.
“Fuck,” He moaned and then pushed you off him so he could crawl over you, “You’re sure?” He asked as you looked up at him, hair fanning around your head on the couch cushion like a halo.
You nodded, “I want you.”
He smirked and lowered his head to yours again, pulling kisses from you as one hand worked its way under your t-shirt. Your skin was smooth and soft there and he inched up slowly, until his fingers just brushed the underside of your breast. Touching you like this, he thought a lot about that night on the roof, the way he had kissed you like he knew he was already out of time.
Now… Now the world seemed to open up. He could take as much time as he wanted. You weren’t going anywhere, not this time. You were his and he wouldn’t let you go so easily again.
Gently, he tugged the t-shirt over your head so he could look at you and he was unable to suppress the sigh that tumbled from his lips. He squeezed your breast with one hand, thumbed your nipple and watched it pebble as you sighed. Still watching you, he pinched your nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger and your eyes rolled back into your head as you writhed beneath him.
He kissed you, fingers still teasingly rolling your nipple between his fingers, and then he began to kiss down your jaw and neck until he was able to suck your nipple into his mouth. The moan that fell from your lips when he swirled his tongue around you went straight to his cock.
He was overly conscious of the fact that because he had imagined this very moment for two years minimum, likely longer, because he had imagined it hundreds of times while getting himself off, it was likely he would last all of thirty seconds once he was inside you, once he felt the real thing. So he would make this last for you.
Jack shimmied the sweatpants off of you and forgot that because you were here and you had just showered, you weren’t wearing panties. And suddenly, he felt feral.
“Jesus Christ,” He shook his head looking at you, it felt like maybe he was dreaming a little, having you naked beneath him. He felt almost delirious with it.
You looked up at him, those pupils once again whole saucers, “Touch me, please?” You whined.
He kissed you again, licking into your mouth as he reached a hand down between your thighs. You gasped as he fully sunk a finger into you. When he moved his mouth back down to suck on your other nipple, your back arched and it sent him into another dimension, being able to make you feel like this.
With two of his fingers pumping you slowly and a thumb on your clit, he felt the moment when you climaxed before you cried out, “That’s it, sweetheart,” He said softly, “Look so pretty when you come for me like that.”
As you caught your breath, you watched as he pulled his fingers out of you and then sucked your juices from his digits. “Taste so good, too.”
Your eyes stayed locked on one another as he reached for a wooden bowl on the coffee table. He took the top off, pulled out an aluminum packet, and closed it again. And suddenly you were giggling, “What?” He asked, ripping the package open.
“D’you fuck mad bitches on this couch or something, Jack?”
He rolled his eyes, but smirked, “Shut up.”
When he slid into you, forehead pressed to yours, you gasped at the sensation. You had thought about this countless times before, Jack Abbot above you, like this. What you had never really thought about was that maybe while he did it, he’d be looking at you like he was in love with you. And it nearly shattered you.
“I love you,” You murmured into his mouth as you felt him beginning to come undone, “I love you so much.”
He moaned your name as he finished and collapsed against you, damp and breathless, “You love me, huh?” He said after a moment.
You lightly scratched the back of his head, “I’ve loved you for years,” You said softly, “Just spent a lot of that time denying it.”
He pulled his head back and kissed you messily, your chin grasped firmly in his hand.
“Better late than never.”
#the pitt#the pitt fic#the pitt x reader#jack abbot#dr abbot#jack abbot x reader#dr abbot x reader#dr abbot smut#dr abbot imagine#mine
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The Reader gets jealous/upset because Sukuna gets Concubines, with a happy ending though. pleaseeeee
Wish I didn’t care
Tags: true form!Sukuna x fem!Reader, king!Sukuna, royal au (?), angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending i promise
An: Ooo, this was such a good idea. Thank you for requesting it from me!! I hope it’s everything you wanted!!

Sukuna never felt the need to give you a title for being in his life. To him, titles were superficial… There wasn’t a title in the world that could explain or encompass the complexities of his relationship with you.
However, you, coming from the mortal realm, wanted a title. It’s not that you wanted the power that was associated with being the betrothed of the King of Curses. You just wanted to feel.. irreplaceable to him.
So, to make you happy, you were his wife.
Kings rarely ever are allowed the luxury of marrying for love. Most kings marry daughters of other powerful kings to create allies between nations. However, Sukuna didn’t need allies. He didn’t need to marry for power when he had more power than he knew what to even do with.
Everything was simply child’s play for him. He even stopped trying to conquer the mortal realm because it was just too damn easy for him. The “sorcerers” could barely even put up a fight. It was embarrassing.
Life was truly becoming boring for him.
That was, until a female curse was delivered straight to his chamber. He was confused and honestly pissed that Uraume would simply guide this harlot into his chambers without his permission. Only you were granted such luxuries.
He was leisurely splayed in his bed with no cloth to cover himself. He truly appreciated the concept of being completely in his own skin at all times, and he often encouraged you to do the same. Though, he also learned to appreciate your more modest approach. You didn’t have to show any skin to get Sukuna riled up.
“State your purpose.” His voice was low and menacing as he spoke to the woman. He slipped his robes on over his shoulders, tying it in the front so he was no longer exposing himself.
“My father sends his regards. Says that a newly wedded king deserves a ‘fresh’ concubine.” The girl spoke with no humility towards him.
Sukuna’s face twisted in disgust that her dad would even suggest such a thing. He was even more put off that she described herself as ‘fresh’ as if she were a type of vegetable in the garden.
“Your father can kindly go fuck himself. I’m not interested.” He responds coldly, and his large palm grabs onto her shoulder with the intention of throwing her out of his chambers. He knew that if you saw her here, you’d probably be devastated.
“My lord-“
“I am not your anything. You address me as Lord or King, but make no mistake. I am not your lord.” He rudely cuts her off, not letting her think she has any sort of claim to him.
“Okay, Lord Sukuna, when’s the last time she’s fulfilled her wifely duties? I can see she’s not in here tending to you now, right? She’d probably feel grateful that you’re being satisfied around the clock.” The concubine’s voice was like a purr, and she looked up at him with eyes that’d rival a siren’s.
And for a split second, Sukuna almost considers her offer.
“You’ll never believe it, Kuna!” Your happy voice fills the air, and the door swings open to reveal you holding a small flower in your hand. “I got a jasmine to bl-“ Your eyes fall upon to scene in front of you.
Sukuna’s towering over an unfamiliar woman. His hand is touching her neck and shoulder area, while she has her hand leisurely pressed against his bicep.
“Who’s.. this?” You quietly ask, and immediately, Sukuna can feel a strange feeling pour into him. It feels like… guilt? He regrets even momentarily entertaining the idea about this harlot occupying his bed.
“Nobody-“
“Oh my lady, it’s nice to meet you. I apologize. Lord Sukuna and I were just getting aquatinted with each other since we’ll be seeing each other a lot from now on.” The serpent of a female cuts him off, and he immediately realizes just what this is. Whichever king decided to send her is hoping to ruin his marriage. She’s quite literally a snake in his garden, trying to ward his wife away from him.
“I don’t… understand.” The way your voice sounds so small. The small pout upon your lips. The way the flower you were once carrying with such confidence is now sagging in your hand. Fuck. Sukuna felt like a complete imbecile.
“Oh, come on now. You know he has needs that are beyond your abilities. I’ll lay with him when you’re too-“
“Enough.” Sukuna’s voice snaps. His teeth grit together as he practically drags the woman out of his chambers. “Go fuck off for a while. I’ll deal with you later.” The door immediately slams in her face.
After a moment of trying to comprehend what just happened and how it all happened so quickly, Sukuna slowly turns to you. It feels like a gut punch once he sees the tears brimming in your eyes.
“That wasn’t…”
“You took up a concubine?” You ask in a sniffle. Your hands are barely even holding the jasmine that’s you were once so excited to show him. Flowers rarely ever bloom in Sukuna’s desolate kingdom, but with hard work and determination, you had gotten a jasmine to bloom in his kingdom.
“No, she was sent to me. I didn’t seek her out.” He tries to dispel the claims while he slowly approaches you. His chest aches as he watches you take a step back away from him. “Do not cower from me, woman.”
“Was I not good enough? Was I not doing enough for you..? I thought… I thought it was good, b-but I can try harder.” Your voice is so shaky, and you won’t even look him in the eye. What has he done?
“Silence. You will not speak of yourself like that to me.” Sukuna orders, and he takes another step forward. You take another step back with another sniffle. Your tears are streaming down your cheeks.
“Please…” The word sounds foreign on his tongue. He’s never ever pleaded for anything in his life. He could simply take what he wants, but he doesn’t want to hurt his delicate flower. He wants her to seek out comfort in him. “Please don’t cower. It was not like that. She showed up at my door, spoke of lies and filth, and I was trying to throw her out when you walked in.”
“So you didn’t even con..consider taking her on as a concubine?” You ask while you rub the tears away with the back of your hands. Hopefully, this was all just a poorly timed miscommunication.
Sukuna takes a moment before responding. He has two options. He could tell you a white lie that would instantly comfort you, but it would be a lie. Or he could tell you the truth and face the consequences of his actions.
“It was one moment of weakness.” He replies carefully.
He instantly wishes he just lied from the way your face immediately twisted in disappointment and pure hurt. The jasmine falls from your hands, and your footsteps trail away from his chambers, leaving him dumbfounded.
Sukuna is immediately on your trail, unable to let you be. He needs to fix this. His dear wife is upset, and it’s all his fault.
A pair of hands slither up his arm as he walks. He already knows who’s touching him based off the nasty feeling from their contact. “My lord, let her be. She needs to-“
“Dismantle.” The concubine’s body drops to the floor in two, split directly at her waist. He had warned her already about referring to him as her lord. She didn’t deserve to speak of you so carelessly, and she didn’t deserve to live after causing this rift in his marriage.
Sukuna continues on his hunt for you without another hitch, leaving the harlot’s body right where she once stood for one of the servants to clean up.
He searches for you in all your usual spots: the gardens, the kitchen, the library, the rooftop. You’re no where to be found. You don’t want to be found. He starts to wonder around his perimeter. The longer he goes without finding you; the more his heart starts to race.
Did you leave him? Did he lose you for good?
The thought of not having his delicate flower by his side makes his body feel ill. You must’ve placed some sort of binding curse on him, but he didn’t necessarily mind.
He’s close to waging war when he finally sees your small human body tucked underneath a weeping willow on a bed of grass. His body moves on it’s own: running to you. When’s the last time he’s ran like this?
Crouching over you, he can see no visible injuries on your body, but he knows he’s wounded your heart with his foolish actions. How could he ever have a wandering eye when you were the real prize?
His four arms carefully scoop you up and cradle your body as he takes a seat underneath the willow. Your poor cheeks are flushed and tear stained. Your eyes and lips are so puffy. You must’ve tired yourself out from crying.
“I’m sorry, flower.” He whispers softly, even if your eyes are still resting. He pulls your body closer to his chest, and he contemplates when he started becoming so soft for you.
A part of him hates it. That small unconscious voice of his telling him that he shouldn’t concern himself with the feelings of a mere mortal, but the bigger part of him knows that he can’t just ignore you. He cares far too much for you.
“Kuna..?” You murmur as your hands rub your eyes. You’re immediately met with remembering just why you had fallen asleep. “I do not wish to see you right now.”
Sukuna chuckles quietly from your defiant little comment. It reminds him of when you first arrived to his estate. “Then close your eyes.” He simply states as one of his hands start to comb through your hair. “Woman, tell me what to do to fix this.”
You shift your gaze away from him with a small huff. If he wasn’t so much bigger than you, you’d try to wiggle away from him. However, you know it is of no use. “I don’t know, Kuna.” Your words are sharp and still so full of emotion. “Imagine how you’d feel if I told you I contemplated sleeping with someone else… in a moment of weakness.”
The sheer thought of it has Sukuna’s anger burning up like an inferno. You’re his delicate flower. No one would even know how to take care of you like he can. His arms subtly tighten around your frame. “I’d kill every man you gaze at.”
“Well, men can rest easy because I only have eyes for you.” You mutter while rolling your eyes. “I love you so much that the thought of being with someone else repulses me, and it… just really hurts that you don’t feel the same.”
“Flower, I took you for granted. It was a brief moment of contemplation, but I instantly decided against it. I did not desire her in the slightest.” Sukuna tries to explain, and his hand gently brushes against your soft cheek.
“You still don’t deny that you don’t feel the same for me.” You respond quietly, still not giving him the satisfaction of you looking at him.
“You are everything to me. I will not lose sight of what’s important again.”
“Kuna.” You finally look up at him, and you frown slightly. Sukuna secretly adores the little nicknames you have adorned him with, but he’d never admit it.
“What is it, woman?” He asks, titling his head to the side a bit to get a better look at your face. You’re so pretty in his lap like this.
“Do you love me?” You quietly ask, even if you can already hear his voice telling you ‘do not ask questions you don’t want answers to’… because even if he’s the incarnate of evil, Sukuna will not lie. Liars are weak cowards who can’t get jobs done by being upfront. Sukuna isn’t afraid of what the truth is.
Your husband contemplates your question for a moment. He thinks about how disgusting that wannabe concubine was. He thinks about how you preoccupy his mind majority of the time. He thinks about the weird mix of feelings he has felt today in your absence.
“What I feel for you… is probably the closest to love that I’ll ever get.” Sukuna responds, carefully choosing his words. “You, my flower, are the only thing that keeps me grounded to the mortal plains.”
You give him the best smile you can muster despite the disappointment that you feel since he won’t tell you that he loves you. You suppose you have no one to blame other than yourself. Sukuna told you when he married you not to get your hopes up for love, but you still can’t help but crave that sort of affection from him.
“I don’t like seeing you upset, flower.” He speaks tenderly as his thumb brushes against your bottom lip. “If I could, I’d snap my fingers and assure you that I love you whole heartedly. It just not in my genetic code.”
“I know… I’m grateful for your effort at least.” You murmur as you wrap your arms around his neck.
His arms wrap around you, cradling you to his chest. He inhales deeply, savoring your sweet scent that he enjoys so much. “Am I forgiven, woman?”
“Mmm, no.” You smile cheekily in his embrace, and Sukuna chuckles heartily.
“Oh? Is someone going to use this blunder to her advantage?” When you nod in his shoulder, Sukuna lays back against the soft pillowy grass. “That’s my girl. Go on. Make me work for your forgiveness.”
On a completely unrelated note, Sukuna had that harlot’s body mailed back to her father as a ‘thank you’ for sending a whore to his kingdom.
#jjk#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen#fanfic#drabble#jjk suggestive#jjk sukuna#jujutsu sukuna#sukuna x reader#jjk angst#hurt/comfort#sukuna#jjk fic#ryomen sukuna#jjk ryomen#ryomen x reader
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Fun Karlach things revealed from party banter/dialogue/cutscenes (these are all 100% canonical to any run, as they are her talking about her past, these all appear in naturally accessable in-game dialogue):
She can touch demons and devils and other infernal creatures without hurting them, but opted not to in those ten years in Avernus as she says she's "not a masochist."*
She has had numerous past relationships, sexual in nature, which she describes as "quick to flare and quick to fade."
She says she was still sorting out "jumping into bed with anything with a pulse" and looking for more long-term relationships when she was sent to Avernus.
There are other infernal creatures running around with infernal engines in them but she thinks she's the only one from Faerun who survived the process (she knows others were tried but didn't make it.)
Loves a good bar fight/brawl (obvious but still cute.)
Likes walking around barefoot in the grass (which she calls "grassing", and she enjoys a good "frolic".)
Isn't keen to travel by boat down the Chionthar (from Moonrise) as her mum said the river was unlucky.
Liked to go swimming as a kid (presumably still does - after she's temperature corrected. Prior to that she mentions fear of boiling fish and her friends alive.)
Worries about being out of date, fashion wise, having been gone from Baulder's Gate for ten years.
Her mother's name is Caerlach (pronounced same as her daughter), and her father's name is Pluck. Their last name, Cliffgate, is the same as one of the lower city entries in Baulder's Gate.
Her dad was a porter and her mom was a laundress. They were poor but loving and fun.
They were poor but NOT destitute - Karlach mentions their household multiple times, and having her friends visit her family in their home. She also went to school (teasing that she'll cheer up Gale by saying she hasn't read "since school").**
When she was a teen her mom passed from illness during a plague when the family couldn't afford a healer quickly enough. Her dad passed a few years after when he was crushed by his own overturned cart on the road.
EDIT: This has been patched in later versions of the game - she does not mention her parents anymore fixing that inconsistency. There's some discrepancy about when she started working for Gortash, in the cemetery she says her parents would have seen him for who he was (implying she did not spend much if any time around him prior to their deaths). In the shadow lands she mentions he 'got his claws into her early' and that she earned enough to help her family move into a better place in the city under his employ (it's entirely possible she's referring to moving their bodies post-mortem though).
She was a young adult (describes herself as 'not-quite-kid') while in Gortash's employ, worked for him for a good span of time, and spent 10 years in Avernus. This means she's likely well into her 30s by the time of game events.
She, to her own admission in her origin, loved Gortash, but also explains that it was not romantic in nature (stating distinctly to the player character "not like that"). She clearly looked up to him as her boss and was deeply betrayed when sold to Zariel.
She lived with her friend Fitz when working for Gortash, who also worked for him at the time. Gortash lied to everyone around her about what happened to her (saying that she moved away suddenly.)
She does note up on meeting Gortash's parents and finding out they sold him to a warlock that he's repeated the same cycle on her.***
Fun fact: "Carlach/Caerlach" in the IRL is a relatively rare Scottish surname likely derived from MacThearlaich ("son of Charles" - typical naming convention dating back to pre- Norman conquest Brittan). Karlach is a very rare spelling of the name and probably was further anglicization on immigration to America (showing up in the 1920s.) As Karlach's mother has the same name as her, spelled differently - one could infer that perhaps her family passed it down in a way that felt more "Bauldrian" to them or was in some way easier to spell.
*Because I've seen this wrong elsewhere - it's not the material plane that's making her untouchable, it's the engine itself. Her engine stops actively hurting her when Raphael teleports you to the House of Hope in Act I - but she's still not touchable without fixing based on this dialogue.
**I've also seen this wrong - Karlach was never an orphaned street urchin and I don't know where people get this impression. Gortash did not "take her in" or mentor her, he was very clearly her boss, albeit one she was friends with and looked up to.
***She does not mean this as a literal one for one, of course, just that someone she trusted sold her to an infernal for his own gain.
#bg3#baulders gate 3#Karlach#please... please engage with the source material#I've seen sone truly awful takes recently that just show... no knowledge of the actual game
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current fantasy is a lesbian who needs some easy money and happens finding an up and coming woman owned, lgbt porn studio and applying for a part time gig right away, just to show up for her second interview and orientation to find out just about all her coworkers to be, all the stars, the staff, almost everyone is trans. it’s not like she has a problem with it, she’s not that kind of dyke, it’s just… surprising! there’s a part of her that feels like making whatever excuses she needs and turning tail, but she prides herself on being open minded, so she just swallows her pride, presses her thighs together, and smiles as she listens to her new manager explain her role here.
…and just like that little pit of fear in her stomach was telling her, they’re just hiring her for her cunt. literally; her, along with the other two cuntgirls on staff, will be working as fluffers and lube dispensers to feed their tops libidos and keep them raring to go for their busy scenes. if a girl starts getting distracted, bored, or anything else soft part way through, it’s on them to slip between the other entertainers when the cameras are off and gently, sweetly thicken them back up. “intercrucal and other outercourse is the standard,” her manager says, “… though whatever works, works. oral is common, hand stuff, a little light play, whatever. but in the interest of being totally clear, it’s the novelty of your cunt that’s gonna be doing the most work for you. our girls are very happily familiar with each other, but cis dyke pussy is the one thing they can’t give each other, so we rely on girls like you to spice things up for them. other than that, our tops have their own tastes, so do your best to pick up on those preferences over time, save yourself some effort.” shes shocked enough that she can’t even think of what to say or how to politely refuse, so she just sits there for a moment with her new boss smiling down at her before a little bundle of forms are pushed into her arms and she’s sent further in to shadow a coworker before she can change her mind.
…and things go simply, and well, if not embarrassingly. they’re shooting a gangbang today, so when they cut and take breaks while getting ready to block new shots, it’s between the new cuntgirl and her coworker to nurse and work their cocks. she’s hardly willing to do much at first, but watching the vet here kneeling beside her, easing someone deeper into her mouth while slapping another girls dick against her face helps make the decision easier. she reluctantly reaches out to feel at the other stars dicks as they joke with each other and break the ice asking about her, her hands slowly easing into awkward, inexperienced handjobs. she mumbles out brief introductions and tries not to blush harder when she feels them pulsing and firming up in her fingers, and spends the next two minutes jerking them off and answering questions about herself that get more and more invasive until they’re rock hard. she was able to get up and out of the shot again, for now; but they’d do this two more times before they were done for today. finally heading home, she’s still scandalized and unable to get comfortable in her seat; mentally, she was prepared to do a scene or two after getting introduced to a co star, so it wasn’t that much of a shock. but just getting used like that, feeling their desire to do more to do hot against her skin, the way their eyes rolled over her, appraising her like meat… something about it got under her skin and went somewhere. even so… the pay was good, she’s doing even less work than she thought she would, doesnt have to worry about videos of her online, and everyone was friendly, warm enough. so she decides to stick with it for now.
and while her girlfriend isn’t thrilled about it, she keeps coming back and picking up hours where she can over the next few weeks. she opens up bit by bit and gets to know everyone else, learn names, settle into her place in the social system. which makes it easier to cede ground and do more when the stars start getting needier. it’s letting a girl fuck your mouth once when she really needed to get back on set, and then getting talked into blowing all the other stars one by one so they don’t feel left out. she’s not surprised when they start getting handsy; soon she’s getting bent over and having her thighs fucked daily. most of the girls love to keep it close and intimate, so any clothes she keeps on get sweaty and full of dick smell. she brings a fresh set to change into afterwards, but the sweat sticks to her anyway, and her girlfriend can only imagine what shes up to when out of sight. their tension settles into an uneasy silence and she makes a habit of heading right for the shower after work. they stop having sex with their strap on, too; she doesn’t fully realize it, but it just doesn’t feel as comfortable without another’s heat anymore. she chalks it up to circumstances each time, but she just can’t get wet the same way for the toy anymore.
it’s her third month there when she caves and lets one of them fuck her. it happens casually, carelessly, not even on set, just taken by the moment with one of the studs she got to know first there. complaining about poor scripts one minute, then get groped into the couch the other. she’d practice her technique with the other cuntgirls or a star not on scene sometimes, but she knew this wasn’t that, and she kissed back anyway. she wanted this, needed somewhere for all that built up sexual frustration to go. getting left half used again and again built up into hunger that she was getting tired of ignoring. when she felt how hard she was, it was her who spread her legs, no guidance needed. when they were panting into each others mouths, skin on skin, wet against each other, it was her who begged to feel it inside. before she knew it she was blissed out in her besties arms, letting the fight get fucked out of her as she shivers and gets dumber with every inch that gets lovingly worked into her cunt. her heart raced and she knew she should stop, but all she could think of doing was wrapping her legs around her mates hips and bearing this a little longer. so close and so dumb. she can’t handle it, having a girl who’s always been chill, collected and professional enough with her completely lose it in her cunt. she cums first, and then a second time quick afterwards as her studs getting greedier and hungrier with her thrusts, holding her fast and grunting into her mouth. using her cunt to stroke herself up to finish. and then she’s hot inside and out and spilling down her thighs before she can think responsibly again. she’s respectful and sweet when cleaning up and at work next, but sooner or later the other girls start to get word, and then she’s spreading her legs and offering up her cunt on the reg. she puts up a bit of resistance, gives herself some time, but soon enough she relents and just starts getting passed around almost every time she’s at work. she doesn’t regret it, with how much it taught her about what she really wants, but she still doesn’t know how she’s gonna explain the positive pregnancy test to her girl. maybe she’s better off going single and focusing on work for a while…
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omgg could i request bubbly reader whos always smiling and giggling but one day an officer (or whoever) says shes being unprofessional and too much and it makes her so so sad so she tones it down and spencer is so upset seeing her like this bc shes the light of his life
-🦨
light — spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: sunshine!reader feels insecure abt herself, mention of officer saying she's being unprofessional a/n: hii 🦨 !! hope this is what you asked for <3
"Morning." Your voice was quieter than usual, your smile smaller, just a polite curve of your lips rather than the bright grin the team was used to. You walked into the conference room, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you took your usual seat.
Morgan and Emily immediately exchanged a glance.
Normally, your entrance was impossible to miss. An enthusiastic, cheerful “Good morning!” ringing through the air, maybe even a comment about someone’s coffee choice or how exhausted everyone looked.
“Morning, sunshine.” Morgan’s voice was gentler than usual. “You good?”
You nodded quickly, forcing another smile. “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. Thanks, Derek.” The words felt rehearsed, like a line you had practiced just to avoid further questions. You glanced up at him for only a second before lowering your gaze to the table.
Emily’s frown deepened as she studied you, before cutting her eyes to Morgan again. Neither of them were buying it. The door opened, and Spencer walked in, carrying two coffees. He placed one in front of you like he always did. A silent little tradition between the two of you. Normally, this would earn him that smile, the one that made his heart stutter in his chest. The one that felt like warmth on the coldest days. You would’ve reached for his hand, his hand, the one no one else was allowed to touch, and squeezed it, your fingers lingering just a little too long, just like they always did.
But today?
“Thanks,” you mumbled, barely looking up. You wrapped your hands around the cup, but nothing more. No smile. No touch.
Spencer’s spine went rigid. His fingers twitched at his sides as he stood there, processing, waiting, hoping, for a second longer than necessary. When nothing else came, he hesitated before reluctantly taking his own seat. Emily and Morgan’s eyes were already on him when he looked up, their silent concern mirroring his own. He swallowed hard.
Something was wrong. But it just got worse from there.
When Garcia called, her voice bubbled through the speakerphone. "Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite team of crime-fighting superheroes! Tell me, my loves, who needs saving today?"
Usually, you’d fire something right back, some exaggerated response about how she was the real superhero or how you were tragically in need of her brilliance. Instead, silence stretched for a beat too long before Rossi finally spoke up, filling the gap where your usual laughter should have been.
At that moment, even Hotch, who rarely indulged in team gossip, glanced at you, his gaze lingering longer than usual. A whole five seconds in Hotchner time. That was basically a siren blaring that something was wrong.
Your usual energy, the energy that kept them all going, was gone. Every word you spoke was muted, every sentence clipped.
You kept your gaze trained on files, your hands fidgeting with the corner of the page, and when someone addressed you, your responses were polite but distant.
Spencer watched you more than he paid attention to the case briefing.His mind ran through every possibility, every variable that could explain this drastic shift. Were you sick? Had something happened? Had someone said something? His stomach twisted at the thought.
Spencer caught up to you just as you reached your hotel room that night. You glanced at him, surprised. The cool metal of your keycard was still in your hand when he spoke.
“Can I talk to you?” His voice was careful and concerned.
You hesitated. You weren’t stupid. You knew exactly what this was about. The stolen glances from the team, the way Spencer had been watching you all day. It was obvious. You could still avoid the conversation if you wanted to. You could brush it off, say you were tired, say you had work to do. But a part of you knew you couldn’t do that. Not to him.
So you sighed, slipping the keycard into the slot and pushing open the door. “Yeah. Sure.”
Spencer followed you in, shutting the door behind him as you plopped down on the bed. You leaned back on your hands, crossing your legs, trying to look nonchalant, trying to make this feel like nothing.
“So,” you said, offering a weak smile, “what did you want to talk about?”
Spencer didn’t answer right away. He just stood there for a moment, watching you, hands fidgeting at his sides.
A beat of silence. “You.” The word landed between you like a grenade with the pin pulled.
Spencer took a step closer, his voice dropping. “You haven’t smiled all day. You didn’t laugh at Garcia’s joke. You didn’t even—” He cut himself off, fingers flexing at his sides. “You didn’t squeeze my hand.”
Your stomach twisted. He noticed. Of course he noticed. You looked away, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “I’m just tired.”
“That's a lie.”
Your head snapped up. Spencer was rarely so direct.
“You think I don’t know you?” he said, voice cracking. “You think I wouldn’t notice when the best part of my day just—just disappears?”
The honesty in his words punched through you. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. Because what could you say? That some stranger’s offhand comment had unraveled you? That you’d spent the entire day replaying his words in your head like a broken record?
Unprofessional. Too much. Annoying.
Spencer took another step forward, his voice softening. “Talk to me. Please.”
Your throat tightened as you stared at him. Spencer Reid, your Spencer, was looking at you like you’d just ripped the stars from his sky. You swallowed hard, forcing out a breath that barely made it past the knot in your chest. “It’s stupid,” you whispered.
Spencer shook his head immediately. “It’s not.”
You let out a hollow laugh, rubbing your palms over your thighs. “You don’t even know what it is yet.”
His voice softened even more, barely above a breath. “And I still know it’s not stupid.”That did it. The dam cracked, then crumbled, then completely shattered.
“Someone—someone said I was too much.” You exhaled shakily, finally putting the ugly truth into the open. “That I was being unprofessional—that I need to tone it down because I laugh too much, because I smile too much, because I don’t act like—” Your voice wavered, and you clenched your fists against the overwhelming sting in your eyes. “Like I belong here.”
Spencer inhaled sharply. You finally met his gaze and all you saw as fury. Not at you, never at you, but at the words that had managed to dull your light.He took another step closer. His hands twitched at his sides, like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t know if you’d let him.
“Who?” His voice was controlled, but barely.
You shook your head quickly. “It doesn’t matter—”
“It matters to me.”
God. Why did he have to care so much? Why did he have to look at you like that, like you were something precious, something irreplaceable, something he wasn’t willing to lose to someone else’s careless words? You chewed on your bottom lip, shaking your head again. “It’s not like he was wrong, Spence.” You forced a smile, but even you could feel how empty it was. “I am a lot. And maybe I do need to—”
“Don’t.” The word was firm. Gentle, but unyielding.
Spencer exhaled slowly, like he was trying to steady himself. “You are not too much,” he said, each syllable deliberate. “And whoever made you think that doesn’t understand what this team—what I—would be without you.”
Your breath hitched, tears threatening to spill over.
“You make things better.” His voice cracked, and it nearly shattered you. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to see you walk into a room and not light it up?” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “It—it hurts.”
A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. You swiped at it quickly, but Spencer had already seen. And that was when he finally moved.Slowly, carefully, he reached for your hand. His fingers curled around yours, just like they always did. The same comforting touch you’d given him a hundred times before.
Except this time, he was the one holding you together.
“Please don’t dim yourself because of someone who doesn’t understand how lucky they are to know you,” he murmured.
Your heart clenched. Your lip quivered. Spencer slowly let go of your hand, his warmth lingering even as his fingers slipped away. He didn’t move far, though. Instead, he lowered himself in front of you.
His hand hesitated just inches from your face, his breath uneven. “Can I?” he asked softly, his fingertips ghosting near your cheek.
You swallowed hard and gave the smallest nod. Spencer wiped away the tear with a touch so gentle it made your chest ache. But his hand didn’t drop. It hovered there, close enough that you could still feel the warmth of him. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. His thumb traced just beneath your eye, barely skimming your skin, as if he could erase not just the tear but the weight of everything that had led to it.
His voice, when it came, was a whisper. “Whoever said that to you… they don’t know you. Not the way I do.”
You exhaled shakily, blinking at him.
“They don’t know the way your laugh makes even the worst days bearable.” His thumb barely moved, brushing against your cheekbone. “They don’t know how your energy—your light—makes all of us better. How it makes me better.”
A fresh tear slipped free. Spencer caught it before it could fall. His other hand lifted then, resting gently on your knee. Another silent plea for you to believe him.
“I don’t want you to change.” His voice cracked. You bit your lip, trying to keep the emotion at bay, but it was useless. His words, his kindness, were unraveling you.
Spencer inhaled sharply, like he was gathering courage, and then, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Your breath hitched. A teary-eyed smile broke across your face before you could stop it. And then, without thinking, you threw yourself into his arms. Spencer barely had time to brace himself, but to your luck, he held firm, his balance steady despite the force of your embrace. His arms wrapped around you instantly, holding you close.
“Thank you,” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, your voice muffled. Spencer let out a breath. His hand moved in slow, soothing strokes along your back. When you finally pulled back, you sniffled, brushing away the last few stray tears that had slipped down your cheeks. Spencer watched you, his expression impossibly soft, his own smile small but so incredibly fond.
You inhaled deeply, gathering yourself before flashing him a gentle smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back tomorrow—back to being the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
Spencer’s ears went bright red. He opened his mouth, whether to protest or agree, you weren’t sure, but all that came out was a flustered little laugh as he ducked his head.
The next morning, Spencer was already waiting for you when you stepped into the conference room. Two coffees sat on the table, one in front of his usual seat, the other carefully placed at yours. You bit back a smile.
Spencer was flipping through a case file, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration.
“Good morning, everyone!” you greeted, voice bright and chipper, just like always.
Morgan and Emily, who had clearly been watching you like hawks since yesterday, immediately exchanged a look before turning back to you.
“There she is,” Morgan grinned, arms crossing over his chest. “I was starting to think we’d lost our sunshine.”
You smirked. “Please. You could never get rid of me that easily.”
Garcia gasped dramatically through the speakerphone. “Oh, thank God! Do you know how hard it is being the only source of light in a room full of broody FBI agents? I almost cracked under the pressure.”
A ripple of laughter spread through the team, but you weren’t really paying attention.Because across the table, Spencer was staring at you.Not in the way he had yesterday, all worried and desperate to fix something he didn’t understand, but in the way he always did.
You sank into your chair, reaching for the coffee he’d placed in front of you. The cup was still warm, and when you took a sip, it was exactly the way you liked it. You glanced at Spencer, eyes twinkling. When you reached under the table to squeeze his hand, just like you always did, Spencer let you.
And just like that, the warmth returned. And Spencer knew, without a doubt, he would do anything to keep it shining.
#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x you#criminal minds fic#criminal minds angst#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#🦨 anon
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I have a funny little request, How do you think the baldur's gate 3 companions would react or respond to Tav talking to someone and who ever they are talking to asks them something about a husband/Wife and they point to one of the companions say “Yeah that’s my Husband/Wife right here”, Or Tav greeting the bg3 companions and saying “Hello my beautiful Wife or Handsome Husband how are you today?” Idk I think it would be funny you can either do all the companions or just a few and whoever else you want.
P.S One of the companions has to Karlach pls and thank you. Have a good day/night
↪"Say that again?"

Bg3 companions x reader
Warnings : none that I can think of, if there anything triggering please let me know
A/n : this is such a cute idea !!! Thank you so much for the request and ofc I'll include Karlach it's a literal crime if I don't
Characters : Astarion, Karlach, Shadowheart, Gale, Lae'zel, Wyll, Halsin, Minthara, Rolan, Raphael
▢ astarion
Astarion is mid-sip of his wine when he hears it. You’re chatting with a bartender, mentioning offhandedly, "Oh, my husband enjoys that brand of wine!" The words seem to hang in the air. A moment later, he chokes, coughing as he hurriedly sets his glass down.
"Sorry, darling, did I just hallucinate, or did you actually call me your husband?" He grins, sharp and playful, but there’s something else lurking in his ruby eyes—something softer. "How bold of you. I don’t recall signing any vows, though if they involve more pet names and adoration, I might be convinced."
Despite his teasing, there’s an undeniable smirk of satisfaction on his lips, and later that night, when he thinks you’re asleep, you catch him whispering his name with your last name attatched—testing the sound of it with a chuckle.
▢ shadowheart
Shadowheart stiffens, her hand momentarily pausing over the clasp of her pack as you effortlessly refer to her as your wife in conversation. She recovers quickly, a well-trained mask slipping into place, but you catch the slight widening of her eyes, the way her fingers tighten just a bit.
When the conversation is over, she turns to you, arms crossed, voice a delicate mix of amusement and hesitancy. "Wife, huh? That’s...a rather serious word, don’t you think?" There’s no irritation in her voice, just a quiet wariness.
You lean in and reassure her—tell her it just felt natural—she exhales, her stance softening. "I suppose... it doesn’t sound terrible coming from you." She smirks faintly, then, in a rare show of vulnerability, she murmurs, "Say it again. Just once."
▢ gale
Gale practically beams. He was in the middle of explaining some grand magical theory when you casually referred to him as your husband, and the conversation might as well have ceased to exist. He turns to you with wide, delighted eyes, as if you just handed him the crown jewel of Mystra herself.
"You—you truly think of me that way?" His voice is filled with genuine wonder, his hands twitching as if resisting the urge to pull you into an embrace right there. "I must admit, I rather like the sound of it."
For the rest of the day, he finds ways to bring it up—entirely coincidentally, of course. "Ah, yes, my spouse and I were just discussing that," he’ll say to a trader. Or, "Well, as my beloved has so kindly pointed out..." He’s positively radiant, and when the two of you are alone, he holds you close, murmuring, "One day, perhaps, we could make it more than just words."
▢ karlach
Karlach lets out the biggest grin you’ve ever seen. One moment, she’s hauling a crate of supplies, and the next, she’s throwing an arm around you, laughing loud enough to startle a nearby bard.
"Wife? You think I’m wife material?" She practically lifts you off the ground in a hug, her infernal engine humming warmly. "Oh, babe, you really know how to make a girl’s heart melt."
For the rest of the day, she won’t stop teasing you. "Hey, love, your wife could use a back rub after all that heavy lifting." Or "Shouldn't a wife get extra rations? I think that’s fair." But underneath the playful exterior, there’s a warmth in her gaze every time she looks at you—like you just gave her something precious she never thought she could have.
▢ lae'zel
The moment the word leaves your mouth—wife—Lae’zel halts. Her expression sharpens, golden eyes locking onto yours with an unreadable intensity. The person you were speaking to wisely excuses themselves, sensing the tension crackling in the air.
She steps closer, head tilting, her voice a low rumble. "You claim me as a wife?" It isn’t anger, but a challenge. Prove it, her tone demands.
You meet her gaze unwaveringly and confirm it without hesitation, she exhales, something pleased flashing across her face. "Hmph. Among my kin, such a title is not spoken lightly. If you speak it, you must own it."
Later, when camp is quiet and you were walking towards your tent, she pulls you aside, her hand gripping your wrist—possessive, firm but there was a softness to it that couldn't be denied. She looked flustered, frowning at you with a twitch of her brow," As your... wife. I demand we sleep in the same tent."
▢ wyll
Wyll is in the middle of charming a noble when you casually refer to him as your husband. The words slip from your lips without hesitation, and at first, he doesn’t react—so well-trained in maintaining composure. Only until the noble left did something warm flicker in his bi-coloured eyes, his confident smile faltering for just a heartbeat.
"Ah—your what?" He turns to you, and for the first time in a long while, the Blade of Frontiers looks genuinely caught off guard.
When you confirm it with an easy smile, he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, as if trying to suppress the warmth creeping up his face. "Well, now you’ve gone and made a man blush," he teases, but there’s a softness to it. A part of him that seems to hold onto the word like a cherished melody.
Later that evening, when the two of you have a rare quiet moment, he leans in, his voice lower, more earnest. "You really see me that way?" His hand finds yours, thumb tracing circles against your palm. "Because I could get used to that."
▢ halsin
Halsin is kneeling by a wounded animal, murmuring a quiet spell of healing, when the word husband leaves your lips. It’s said so casually—to another druid, in passing—that at first, he doesn’t seem to react.
But then, as the spell finishes, he turns to you, golden eyes warm with something deeply affectionate. A slow smile spreads across his face, creasing the corners of his eyes. "Husband," he repeats, testing the weight of it, his voice rich with amusement. "That is… a title of great commitment. And yet, hearing it from you, it feels as though it has always been true."
There’s no teasing, no hesitation—only an earnest kind of joy. He steps closer, brushing his fingers against your cheek, his touch feather-light. "If this is how you see me, then I will wear the title with pride." His voice drops to a low murmur, meant only for you. "And should you ever wish to make it more than words, I will answer gladly."
From that moment on, he often refers to you in kind—my heart, my love, and, on particularly affectionate days, even my wife/husband/mate. It is not just a title to him; it is a promise.
▢ minthara
Minthara doesn’t react at first. Not outwardly. She merely continues sharpening her blade, her red eyes cold and unreadable as you casually refer to her as your wife in conversation.
The person you were speaking to quickly departs, sensing the weight of silence that follows. Then, without looking up, Minthara speaks, her voice dangerously low. "You called me wife."
It isn’t a question. It’s an evaluation. A test.
You confirm it, she finally lifts her gaze to meet yours, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "How bold of you," she muses, setting her blade aside. "Amongst lolth-sworn drow, such words are not spoken lightly. They are a claim. A promise."
She stands, stepping into your space, her presence as commanding as ever. A hand grips your chin—not harsh, but firm. Possessive. "If you call me wife, then you had best mean it."
And yet, later that night, when the camp is quiet and she believes no one is watching, she lingers at your side a little longer. A rare softness flickers in her eyes before she turns away, murmuring to you just loud enough for you to hear—"Hmph. It does have a certain... power to it."
▢ raphael
The moment the word husband leaves your lips, Raphael goes completely still. The conversation you were having with an unfortunate merchant screeches to a halt as the cambion turns his attention fully on you. The air crackles with something dangerous—something deeply, intensely amused.
A slow smirk stretches across his lips. "My dear, I do believe I misheard you," he purrs, voice as smooth as velvet. "Did you just call me your husband? How delightfully bold of you."
He steps closer, red eyes gleaming with something unreadable—pleasure? Possession? The thrill of a game he suddenly must win? He takes your hand, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your knuckles. Never breaking eye contact as his lips were curved in that usual salacious smirk of his,"Now, if you are to call me husband, I expect proper treatment. Gifts. Devotion. Perhaps a throne befitting a devil of my caliber."
There’s teasing in his tone, but beneath it? Oh, there’s something else entirely. Later, when no one is around, he murmurs against your ear, "let me hear it again... it sounds so terribly tempting when it falls from those lips of yours."
▢ rolan
Rolan is mid-rant—complaining about some idiot who failed to organise the library books the right way—when you absentmindedly refer to him as your husband. He stops talking. Completely.
His mouth opens. Closes. His tail flicks rapidly behind him, betraying his internal spiral.
"Wha—wait—what did you just call me?" His voice cracks, and he immediately clears his throat, straightening his shoulders in a desperate attempt to regain his dignity.
When you repeat it, casual as ever, he stares at you like you just cast Wish in front of him. "That’s… I mean, I am an impressive partner, but—" He crosses his arms, looking away, his cheeks burning a darker, unmistakable shade of red. "You can’t just say things like that without warning someone!"
But for the rest of the day, he’s noticeably smug—standing taller, magic practically crackling at his fingertips. And if you listen closely, you might hear him muttering under his breath: "Husband. Hah... obviously."
#bg3 x you#bg3 x tav#bg3 x reader#wyll x you#wyll x tav#wyll x reader#astarion x tav#astarion x you#astarion x reader#lae'zel x tav#lae'zel x reader#karlach x tav#karlach x reader#shadowheart x tav#shadowheart x reader#minthara x reader#minthara x tav#halsin x you#halsin x tav#halsin x reader#rolan x reader#rolan x tav#raphael x tav#raphael x reader#gale x reader#gale x tav
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DONT GO DADDY | LN 4
lando norris!dad x reader!mom
no warn
hope you guys enjoy it!!


Lando had two more days at home before he had to leave for the next race weekend. Two days before he’d have to pack his bags, say goodbye, and be away for who-knows-how-long.
The thing is—his kids didn’t even know that yet.
Noah and Leo, his little shadows, had been extra clingy lately. Usually, Leo was glued to their mom, a total mama’s boy, while Noah was more independent. But this past week? The two of them were stuck to Lando like glue. If he so much as stepped out of the room, one (or both) would come running, calling out for him like he was about to disappear forever.
Like right now.
Lando was just sorting through some stuff in the living room when he suddenly felt two tiny pairs of arms wrap around his legs. He glanced down, finding Noah and Leo latched onto him, looking up with teary eyes.
“What’s up, little dudes?” he teased, ruffling Noah’s curls while patting Leo’s head. “Why are you guys crying, huh?”
Noah sniffled. “Daddy… hug.”
Leo nodded aggressively, arms still wrapped tight around Lando’s leg. “Want hug, Daddy.”
Lando crouched down, opening his arms. “Ohhh, you want me to hug you? Come here then.”
And just like that, his two little monsters launched themselves into his chest, squeezing him like their lives depended on it. Lando chuckled, lifting them both up in his arms.
“What’s gotten into you two, huh? You’ve been extra cuddly this week.”
Noah pouted, gripping Lando’s hoodie. “Don’t go.”
Lando blinked. “Go where?”
Leo’s lips wobbled. “Work.”
Noah, never one to be left out, “Yeah! We miss you when you go!”
Ah. They didn’t know he was leaving in two days, but somehow, they felt it.
And just like that, Lando’s heart completely melted. He sighed, rubbing their backs as they both continued to sniffle into his hoodie.
“Daddy’s right here, baby,” he murmured, rocking them gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“But later you go work again.” Noah mumbled, his little fingers fisting Lando’s hoodies like he was scared he’d disappear right then and there.
Lando exhaled, tilting his head back for a second before pressing a kiss to both their foreheads. “You know why Daddy goes to work, right?”
They both shook their heads, big eyes still filled with tears.
“I go so I can make money,” he explained gently. “And you know what money gets us?”
Noah thought about it for a second. “Ice cream?”
Lando chuckled. “Yes, and toys. And our house. And everything we need. If I don’t go, then we don’t get those things.”
Leo sniffled. “But I just want you.”
Lando swore his heart physically hurt. He pulled them both in even tighter. “I know, buddy. And I want to be here too. But I promise, I’ll always come back. And when I do, we’ll have fun as much as you want, okay?”
After a few more minutes of calming them down, their little bodies finally relaxed against him. The house was quiet except for their soft breathing, and Lando realized they had completely passed out on him—Leo using his arm as a pillow, and Noah curled up into his side.
That was exactly how his wife—y/n found them when she walked in.
She paused in the doorway, eyes widening at the rare moment of silence. Usually, their house was a warzone of giggles and chaos, but right now? It was peaceful. Too peaceful.
She tiptoed closer, peeking into the family room, and immediately felt her heart melt. There they were—her three favorite people, all tangled up on the couch, fast asleep.
Lando had one arm draped protectively over both boys, his head resting against the back of the couch. Noah was tucked under his chin, while Leo had somehow managed to shove himself into Lando’s side, one tiny hand gripping his hoodie even in sleep.
She smiled to herself, shaking her head fondly.
Yeah. She was definitely taking a picture of this.
#f1 fanfiction#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#lando norris x reader#lando x you#lando norris#lando x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fic#lando norris fluff
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ˋ°•*⁀➷ loser!gf ellie
synopsis: just some random headcanons about what it'd be like to date loser ellie who's js so obsessed with you.
notes: never made any headcanon posts before, so don't mind the setup lmao i have no clue what i'm doing
tw: mostly fluff but there are some smutty hcs (oral — e!receiving)
✧₊⁺ to begin with, ellie defo prefers cozy 'netflix n chill' date nights over dressing up for fancy dinners.
✧₊⁺ cuddling up on the couch with you is something that never fails to make her heart swell, no matter how long you’ve been together.
✧₊⁺ but mostly because it gives her a chance to imagine what domestic life with you might be like—though she’d never admit it, afraid it might seem like she’s moving too fast.
✧₊⁺ she’s a sucker for resting her head on your chest while you thread your fingers through her hair, gently massaging her scalp as the two of you watch some cringey movie you’ll inevitably fall asleep to halfway through.
✧₊⁺ on the rare nights you don’t doze off, ellie grabs her brown acoustic guitar adorned with spongebob stickers and serenades you with a gentle melody while you rest your head on her shoulder.
✧₊⁺ when you’re out with friends, ellie—being the absolute dork she is—seizes the opportunity to practice tricks on her scratched-up skateboard, determined to one day impress you with her skills (even though she can barely land a kickflip without bruising herself)
✧₊⁺ when she eventually heads home with fresh scratches and deep purple bruises on her arms and knees, she does her best to patch herself up and cover them with makeup, hoping you won’t notice.
✧₊⁺ walking around town with ellie is always chaotic, as she can’t help but scream with excitement at the sight of every cat she sees.
✧₊⁺ bonus points if she’s eating chips—she’ll immediately tear open the bag and try to feed the poor animal junk food, no matter how much you explain it’s unhealthy. she just wants the cat to be happy and fed.
✧₊⁺ speaking of cats, she's defo the type to snap 0.5 pictures from every angle, proudly maintaining an entire folder dedicated to her feline encounters.



✧₊⁺ you got her a dino necklace for her birthday, and she’s never taken it off since.
✧₊⁺ ellie also has a whole mini-figure collection of the reptile and loves sending you pictures of two dinos kissing, always captioning them with: us!!
✧₊⁺ this girl lets nothing—absolutely nothing—distract her from a videogame. but the moment you so much as call her name, she’s running to you like a stray dog that just found its owner.
✧₊⁺ sometimes, you sit on her lap as she plays, watching her screen and asking the silliest questions. she always answers with a smile and a soft kiss on your cheek.
"what about there? would you die if you went inside that room?" you ask, your arms draped around her neck as you tilt your head to get a better view of her game.
she chuckles softly, pressing her lips to your jaw before fiddling with the joysticks. "judging by the fact that it’s pitch dark in there, i’d say… probably, yeah."
✧₊⁺ the room eventually falls silent, her focus fully locked on the game. but when she glances down a few moments later, she finds you fast asleep, your head resting on her shoulder, and she can’t help but smile.
✧₊⁺ you’ve never seen a room as messy yet effortlessly aesthetic as ellie’s. somehow, the clutter only adds to her charm and uniqueness.
✧₊⁺ sometimes, as you sit on her bed scrolling through your phone in comfortable silence, ellie sketches little drawings of you.
✧₊⁺ by now, her sketchbook is filled with portraits of you—you’ve become her muse.
✧₊⁺ she used to get shy about showing you her artwork, hesitating before every reveal. but after seeing your excitement over one piece, she proudly gave you a full tour of her sketchbook, secretly basking in the joy of being the reason behind that pretty smile of yours.
✧₊⁺ one time, ellie asked you to press your lipstick-stained lips onto a piece of paper, saying she wanted to create something abstract.
✧₊⁺ that moment quickly escalated into her kissing you with urgency, her lips trailing heated breaths down your neck and collarbone. before you knew it, you were lying on your back, clothes discarded on the floor, as she devoured you like a prisoner savoring a last meal.
✧₊⁺ ellie had never tasted pussy before, but she didn’t need any frame of reference. she’ll always insist yours is the best she could ever have.
✧₊⁺ she’s a soft dom, big on praise—even when you’re the one between her legs.
ellie’s head falls back against the wall, a low groan slipping from her lips as your tongue flicks against her clit. you wrap your lips around the sensitive bud, watching her face contort with pleasure.
“fuck, baby. just like that,” she grunts, her hand threading into your hair and tugging gently to bring you closer. “you’re doing so good.”
✧₊⁺ in the end, ellie is just a hopeless loser who’s madly in love with you and would do anything to make you happy.
#ellie williams#ellie williams headcanons#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x you#ellie willams x reader#ellie x fem reader#tlou ellie#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us#lesbian#ellie williams fluff
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It's you (Min Ho x reader)
Summary: Min Ho and Y/n are reunited in the second semester at K.I.S.S with their sarcastic, bullying friendship, but the drama get a little out of hand at the Moon's cabin, will the sparks that fly settle or burn Y/n up?
Warnings: Kissing, poor relationship with parents, underage drinking
Words: 4.1K
(Not my GIF :))
Being back at K.I.S.S for our second semester was thrilling, even just stepping out the car brings back a rush of memories and hope for this term. Kitty says she’s going 2.0 this semester and focusing but I think we both know she’ll lying to herself, Q and I made a bet on how long she lasts.
“I’ll give her a week,” I told him wanting to give the girl at least some belief.
Q pulled a face that screamed you’re joking right? And said ‘I give her till the end of tomorrow’.
Yuri was kind enough to invite out whole group to a reunion dinner tonight at our favorite barbeque restaurant, all on her, whilst the rest of us was excited Kitty was still stressing in our joint room about getting out of our living situation. Thankfully some music was able to calm her down for a second.
That was until Min Ho’s favourite song came on, and she turned to me with her mouth and eyes wide open in some sort of realisation. “Are you and Min Ho actually going to your lives together this semester?”.
I threw one of pillow at her, “Hey!” she exclaimed turning to me with smudged mascara on her cheek.
“Not this again,” I say rolling my eyes.
“I’m just saying I’m rarely wrong,” her voice goes a few octaves higher.
I turn back to my mirror, “You know I can’t stand how highly he thinks of himself, plus even I did he’s a player Kitty, I don’t put myself in situations where I’m likely to get hurt,” I explain.
“Yeah whatever live a little!” she threw the pillow back at me, which quickly turned into a pillow fight and bunch of laughter, until a knock on the door informed us we had to leave if we didn’t want to be late.
The four of us girls walked towards the busy town to the restaurant, and he’s the first person that I spot in the crowd amongst our friends. Yuri shouts out a hello and the group turns around. His eyes meet mine, the same sneaky glimmer sits in his eyes, mouth in its signature half smirk.
I can feel Kitty’s eyes on me, and she gives me a slight push, I move my feet quickly hoping that no one saw that. I turn around and give her a quick death glare.
“Hello, y/l/n” his voice is all too familiar, I turn to meet his eyes once again, his hands are in his jacket pocket, and I note down that I would not mind stealing it from him.
“Min Ho,” I say back keeping it cool.
“Christmas break does not feel like a long enough break from you,” he says with a smile.
“Aren’t you a sweetheart,” I say back in a monotone voice.
“Now you’re complementing me? What have you done to y/l/n?” he questions grabbing my jacket sleeving and waving it around in an inspection, I roll my eyes at him and he lets my arm fall, “I heard about the living situation,” he changes the subjective with a gesturing nod to the restaurant as all our friends were walking in.
I let out a sigh and push some of my hair out my face, “Yeah, it’s a weird one, Kitty is super freaked out,” I say.
“I don’t blame her, living with someone you like and their partner sounds like personal hell,” he says with a distaste in his voice.
“Very helpful observation from you Min Ho,” I say deadpanning.
He puts a hand to his chest, “You’re so welcome,”.
“Aw and to think I almost missed this sarcasm of yours,” I say back turning my gaze away from his to the busy street.
Min Ho’s eyes crinkle in the corners “You did miss me,” he said as I stepped towards the restaurant, but I stopped before I could take another.
He circled around to step in front of me again, my brows burrowed, and I let out a nervous chuckle, “what did you say?” I asked trying to play dumb. Of course I missed him, I’m not sure how exactly our friendship could be described but our little digs were something I looked forward to, I enjoyed the challenge, the satisfaction that came from leaving him without a comeback.
I waited as he lowered towards my ear, his long eyelashes lifting as he observed something behind me, “You smiled when I said that”, I could feel the absence of his breath as he pulled away. He was walking through to the table as I let out a composing breath and followed.
Kitty saved me a seat beside her, she wiggled her brows at me when I sit down, Min Ho was talking to Q and Dae looking at the menu.
“So?” she asked eagerly turning directly towards me.
“What?” I ask laying my purse down and grabbing a menu.
The brunette pulled it right out of my hands, “You know exactly what you’re going to order,” she says which is true, I get the same thing every time, why change something that works? “The tensions still there?” her mouth is a grin.
“It’s not tension,” I tell her for the hundredth since we started at K.I.S.S “we just don’t like each other,” I say pulling the menu back out her hand. I loved that Kitty was basically a radio tower for spotting who likes who, but not when it came to me, I didn’t like Min Ho like that and he definitely doesn’t like me like that, he was all over Maddison last semester.
“Whatever you want to tell yourself, “She murmured standing up to talk to the guys, Min Ho looks over to me momentarily as Kitty approaches them but then gets back into the conversation.
<3 <3 <3
Being able to spend the weekend at Min Ho’s cabin was amazing but waking up this morning to being basically snowed in was not a pleasant surprise, skiing was a no go, and it’s not like there was anything else near us. Everyone spent the morning playing card games or reading or trying to find something to entertain themselves because the internet was out.
It was fine until it hit five in the afternoon and even the team competition games were not feeling as empowering. Most everyone was feeling restless, that was until Q came up with what everyone seemed to think was a good idea, apart from Min Ho and me but I couldn’t pick his side.
“Oh come on we’re stuck on the property anyway!” Q pleaded in a whiny tone holding his hands together in support Dae gave a put his hands on his face and gave a cute smile. Min Ho half rolled his eyes and looked at all the faces in the room.
Dropping his hands with a sigh he agreed, and the room erupted into cheers, “But if you guys break anything I swear-” he started but was cut off as the chatter started. Maddison suggested we should divide up tasks, set up a small buffet, get alcohol and get dressed up.
Everyone separated the tasks between them, but my eyes kept shifting towards Min Ho, he looked distant, he was never usually against a party. He said he’d sort the alcohol and walked out the room, I looked around at everyone dispersing again then followed him.
We were heading towards his dad’s office, where Q had secretly snuck Jin in last night, thankfully the guys made up with him earlier or this day could have been very awkward, though it did seem like he gave them a rather tough time when they were younger and what he did to Q was not forgiven.
“Are you okay?” I ask after closing the door behind us, he didn’t turn, if he knew I was following him it didn’t show.
“Yep, I’m thinking the alcohol can be his payment for ditching me once again,” he says nonchalantly taking a key out of a draw and unlocking a tall cabinet, there on the bottom shelf laid what must have been about 30 different bottles.
I step closer and lean against the wall watching him pick up the bottles, read the label, leave some out and those that didn’t appease him went back in.
“Min Ho,” I said, my voice more tender than I intended, the playfulness was gone, “Can you look at me for a second?” I asked, for a moment he stopped moving altogether, before letting his shoulder fall and rising up to stand in front of me.
His expression was of that as always, but his eyes redder like a tear could appear any moment, “I can’t exactly say I’m surprised,” he shrugged and watched me waiting. A sadness settled over the room. I took a step towards him and just opened my arms, momentarily he was stood still, then he leaned down and wrapped his hands around my middle as mine went to the back of his neck.
“I’m sorry Min Ho,” I said, he didn’t let go, “You deserve better than this,” I said and pulled him closer, running my hand over his nape. As we stood there it felt as though a piece of my own heart was breaking, I could feel my throat getting drier, I shut my eyes tight.
I’m not sure if we were stood there for a minute or five but when he pulled away slightly, we looked at each other and for the first time I felt as though I saw him, really saw all of him.
“Whilst you’re here any preference?” he breaks out of the bubble and goes back to the stash as if nothing happened; I pull myself back together and kneel down next to him to look at options we have.
When we brought everything up Q looked directly at me, Min Ho placed the bottles on the table and rushed towards his room. I placed the ones I carried, and Q came right over, taking off the little apron he found leaving Julianna and Dae in the kitchen.
“How is he?” Q asks, and I lift my gaze from the table, the concern in his eyes mirrored that in mine.
I let out a sigh and shrugged my shoulders before replying in a hushed tone so they couldn’t hear in the kitchen, “He’s Min Ho, you know how he is, won’t say a thing,” I conveyed. Q nods knowing this would have likely been the case.
“He’ll come around when he needs to talk, for now it’s important we’re just here for him,” he said I agreed. When Dae announced they were done in the kitchen the four of us headed to get ready. Yuri laid her arm around my shoulder in a side hug as we walked to the room.
Yuri and I were the last to get ready the others were mostly done, the girls were playing music in the room, putting finishing touches to their makeup. None of us brought anything extremely fancy, but just enough.
The atmosphere in the house was much uplifted as everyone started having drinks and nibbling on the snacks. When Min Ho walked in and I couldn’t look away, he wore black trousers and a white sweater, his mood was too seemingly improved, he sent a smile my way.
Everyone was talking and dancing on the makeshift dancefloor, the table was pulled to the side, the drinks we’re going down as quickly for me as some others. Q and Jin were the sober ones as they both said that athletes don’t drink so at least I wasn’t the only one, though I was getting to the warm side of tipsy.
Coming back from the bathroom I spotted Dae and Eunice making out in the doorframe of one of the rooms and couldn’t help but smile, I was glad he was able to find someone who made him happy after how things ended with Kitty, especially since he wasn’t really over her at the start of this semester.
“Let’s do truth or dare!” Maddison announced after another shot as I made back into the room, a mixture of responses was heard but the red head quickly shot them all down, “Don’t all be babies, this is prime time to get to know everyone’s secrets,” she exclaimed falling back onto one of the sofas.
Everyone gathered around taking seats with their drinks.
“Okay I’ll start,” she said excitedly looking around at everyone as if they were her prey, “Okay, Julliana truth or dare?”
“Truth,”
“What is your favourite thing about Yuri?”
Julianna smiled at the question, resting her glass against her lips as she thought, “There’s just so many,” she laughed, Yuri looking at her expectantly, “The fact that she’s so unapologetically herself,” she said, and Yuri pulled her close and pressed their lips together. My eyes shot directly to Kitty who was looking everyone but at the couple.
“Okay, okay my turn,” Yuri said turning back to the crowd, “Q, truth or dare?”
“I’ll do a truth,”
“Who’s the best kisser you’ve ever kissed?” Q blushes and looks at Jin, his eyes shyly meeting his.
“Jin,” a series of aws and ews came out from everyone.
“Okay so, my queen of Choas,” Q started but Kitty threw him an exaggerated look of shock, “In retirement of course,” he finished lifting his hands in defence, if only he knew what Kitty had done before we left for this trip, “truth or dare,”.
“Truth,” she replied.
“Do you miss living with us,” he asked, and Maddison let out a boo, not juicy enough for her, but Kitty gave him a thankful look.
“Eh I basically spend the same amount of time at your dorm, apart from the sleeping fact,” she laughed, and Q gave her a side hug.
“Okay for that boring question lets do a never have I have, so drink if you have” the red head announced and looked towards Eunice.
The other girl furrowed her brows and made eye contact with Dae, “Never have I ever had a not so innocent dream about someone in the room,” she said. I lifted my glass to my lips whilst watching who else did, pretty much everyone, including Min Ho, everyone broke into trying to guess who dreamt about who.
Jin perked up “Min Ho yours has to be that girl you kissed in that music video for your dad this summer, surely,” but Min Ho only brushed him off.
Kitty quickly ceased control of the room “Okay, y/n truth or dare?”
“Truth,” I say not wanting to pick either really.
Madisson huffed, “Come on you guys let’s stop being boring!”, everyone else seemed to agree with her, convenient that she didn’t complain about that earlier.
“Dare,” I say giving in, and look back at Kitty with that mischievous glint in her eyes and am fully regretting my decision to give into peer pressure.
She smiled and proclaimed, “I dare you to kiss the person you find most attractive in the room,”.
Everyone’s eyes shot to me and an excited murmur started, I’m unable to take my eyes off my best friend, I knew she probably wanted to do good, but this was actually my worst nightmare.
“Kitty come on,” I try but no one jumps up to my defence. I look to Yuri and Q for some help but they both look like they want to see this play out.
Then Madisson’s new roommate Stella got out of her seat, she was always so quiet so all eyes shoot to her, “If you won’t do it I will,” she said with a new surge of confidence. Everyone looked confused, she made her way across the room to the wall on which Min Ho was leaning against.
His eyes scanned her face and a sick feeling started rising in my stomach, we are just good friends, maybe it was the alcohol not mixing well in my stomach. It’s not until her lips are about to touch his that I get up and rush out the room, saying I needed some fresh air.
Kitty tried to come after me, telling me its going to be fine that Stella had no chance against me and what not, but I just turned around and something in me exploded “How about you focus on your own love life Kitty, you need to tell Julianna the about what happened,” I whisper shouted.
Kitty’s face crumbled and she looked so hurt.
“Tell me what?” Julianna’s voice questioned as she appeared in the hallway.
Kitty and I turned to see her looking our way and Yuri standing beside her, Julianna looked between the two and a realization seemed to have struck her. Kitty tried to say something, to explain and I just walked away feeling even worse.
All of us had out swimsuits under our clothes cause we we’re going to end the night in the hot tub, so I headed out there now. Sitting warm water trying to keep my tears in check I could avoid the feeling of dread that I left in the house, still a few slipping gently down my face.
“Y/n,” a voice approached but I didn’t turn to him, I couldn’t, I just embarrassed myself and left Kitty to fend for herself, “come on,” he said sitting down on the side of the tub.
“I’m a terrible person,” I say simply, my whole body slumping into the hot water of the hot tub, being submerged made me feel numb.
“Can you come out so we can talk?”
“Nope, I’m going to sit in here until the water sucks me up whole and I disappear,” I admit and join my hands nervously under the water.
He sighted slightly and I could see him shuffling in the corner of my eye.
“If you won’t come out I’ll come in,”
“You really don’t have to,” I argue but he doesn’t listen, he steps in and settles in the water next to me.
“You’re not a terrible person,” he says and I turn to look at him momentarily.
“I got Kitty into shit with Julianna, I’m arguing with my parents over the most stupid thing, and I just keep ruining things for myself because I keep getting so anxious- I am like the worst,” I express looking out into the distance of the dark sky.
I feel him shuffle left to me, “come here,” he whispers and he pulls me into a hug, he’s warmer than the water, “The thing about Kitty was bound to come out at some point, and to be honest the longer it took the worse the outcome would have been,” he said brushing a hand down my hair.
I pull away slightly, “They broke up haven’t they?” I asked, his eyes softened, and he nodded, “and Kitty isn’t speaking to anyone?” I ask.
“Q went to sit with her, she won’t be angry at you forever, you guys will talk it out,” he reassured me.
I let out a half-defeated chuckle, “Who would have thought you could be somewhat wise,” I teased wiping a tear from under my eye.
“I am wise you’re just blind to genius,” he pulls one of his resting bitch faces and looks towards me with one brow raised and I actually let out a laugh.
“There she is,” he says and I can feel a smile spread across my lips, “So,” he says leaning on his arm to look at me, “who were you going to kiss?” he asked, his voice a whisper even though we were both alone out here.
I can feel the blush creep up the back of my neck and cheeks and hope that it’s too dark for him to see. The silene is peaceful and I could stay out here all night, with the mixture of fresh air and the hot water.
“Does it matter?” I ask turning towards him, I hadn’t realised how close he was sitting to me, I could feel my heartrate multiplying.
He smiles and shrugged, “I need more material for making fun of you,” he said but there was no harshness or mal intent behind it, an actual smile made its way onto my way and I shook my head, “Oh it was totally me,” and so the cockiness was back.
“Oh you wish,” I say with a challenge, the corner of his lips upturn, but my gaze falls down and my teeth sink into my bottom lip, “how was your kiss with Stella, I hear she’s been crushing on you,” I say with a sad echo of playfulness.
He shifted closer to me, “I didn’t kiss Stella,” he says, leaning his head against his fist, I watch his face waiting, “I told her there is only one person I want to kiss, and it’s not her,”.
His eyes flutter down to my lips, I can’t help but take in a breath and search his face.
“Who is it then?” I ask, so quietly you could almost miss it.
“It’s you, silly,” he says as if he were explaining it to a five-year-old.
The silence returned.
“Y/l/n”
I turned to face him again, his hand came up to move my hair behind my ear.
“Min Ho,” I say in tone that came out as a mix of a warning but also desire that was bubbling too close to the surface, we were crossing dangerous grounds here and there would be no going back.
His eyes went to my lips and mine to his. Then he was leaning in, I closed my eyes and let it happen. His lips against mine was much better than my imagine could ever do it justice, it was slow kiss, then another, and one more before he pulled away slightly and rested his forehead against mine.
“I’ve been waiting a long while to do that,” he says and the strain in his tone brings out something in me. I put my arms around his hand and pull him onto another kiss, this one deeper, his arms found my waist and he pulls me closer and closer until I’m sitting on his lip.
“Better than you could have imaged, I know,” he says after he pulls away and laugh, moving my hand to splash him with water.
“I hate that Kitty was right. Again,” I say.
Min Ho runs a hand through his hair, “This is the only time I’m not mad that that girl is right,” he states.
Eventually we left the hot tub and made our way back inside, most people have dispersed to different rooms, the atmosphere definitely ruined. Kitty was sat crossed legged on the sofa staring at her phone as we walked in, Min Ho gave me a smile and pointed his head in her direction.
“Kitty,” I said nervously.
Her eyes shot directly to me, her eyes also red, she dropped her phone and rushed over to me pulling me into a hug, I squeezed her tightly.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, “I shouldn’t have said anything- it wasn’t my place-” I started to say rapidly btu Kitty interrupted me
“I’m also sorry, I’ve been so caught up in all this drama I didn’t even know you were fighting with your parents, and it’s good it got out now, it would have been so much more hurtful for everyone the longer it was kept quiet.
“I love you girl,” I said, tears building up in my eyes.
She giggled “I love you more,” she said pulling away, “and now I want to hear every detail about what just happened in that hot tub!” she squealed pulling to me to the sofa and pointing out the window a clear view of the tub, I hid my face behind me hands, “Looks like Kitty the matchmaker was right again,” she said proudly.
It was a relief that Kitty was able to forgive me, we spoke a little about Min Ho aware that he could be lurking around anywhere, then we talked about my fall out with my parents, and I dropped them a text saying we should talk when they wake up. Before we knew it was well past one in the morning and we agreed it was time for bed.
I paused in front of Min Ho’s door questioning whether to knock and say goodnight or if that was too weird.
“You go girl!” Kitty whisper cheered walking towards the room we slept in last night.
I took a deep breath in preparation and knocked, “Come in,” the voice on the other side said and so the rest of the night was spent talking and cuddling, maybe this trip wasn’t a total disaster after all.
#xo kitty#Netflix#Minho#Minhoxreader#to all the boys i've loved before#tatbilb#kitty song covey#minho xo kitty#minho x you#minho moon#oxkitty x reader#minho x reader#min ho oneshot#min ho x reader
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Mama's boy Her boy.
Yeon Sieun x fem!reader
The reader has a shy character in this story



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The following Monday, it was raining.
Not a heavy rain, but that constant drizzle, almost annoying, that makes the air heavy and humid, as if the sky itself was caught in a silence filled with unshed tears. Yeon Si-eun was waiting, his back against the worn wall of the school's annex. He wasn't supposed to be there, but he had volunteered for the tutoring program. Not out of altruism. He had simply thought it would fill the void in a useful way.
Then she entered the room. Y/n. She was wearing an oversized sweatshirt, the sleeves covering her hands, and her bag seemed to almost slide off her shoulder. She didn't say anything, just nodded, her eyes avoiding his. But Si-eun had already noticed the slight tension in her fingers, the careful handling of her notebook, the way she stood between presence and erasure.
That was his way of observing.
The first sessions were silent, almost cold. He explained, she nodded. Sometimes she asked a question, her voice soft but firm, never looking at him for too long. He pretended it didn't bother him, but his mind, usually as orderly as a strategy game, began to fall apart.
He didn't understand. Why, when his eyes met y/n's, did he feel as if he was truly seen for the first time? Not as a smart or distant boy, nor as a tool for knowledge or controlled violence, but simply as a boy. Just a boy.
And that was the beginning of the obsession.
He began to look forward to these sessions like a starving animal. He noted everything: the way y/n paused to think, the way she switched pens while nibbling on the old one, the little smile she allowed herself when she understood something. He even started to hang around the community center where she sometimes came with her younger siblings.
He watched her take care of them with a tenderness almost fierce. They pulled at her arms, climbed on her back, knocked over her bag. And she, instead of getting annoyed, laughed softly. A laugh so discreet, yet so alive, that it took his breath away.
Si-eun, on the other hand, had never been held in loving arms.
Not even by his mother. Especially not by her.
The rare times she was around, she would stand in the kitchen, looking at her phone. She would nod when he spoke, but her eyes were always elsewhere. He remembered, as a child, tugging at his mother's sleeve to get a glance, a word, a gesture. But she was always too busy. Too absent. And eventually, he had stopped asking. What was the point?
So, when y/n occasionally brushed against him without thinking – a light touch of an arm, a hand brushing – it felt like a soft burn, an unbearable warmth he longed to replicate.
And he did.
One day, he pretended to have a headache. He staggered as he sat down. Y/n, concerned, placed her hand on his arm, then gently on his forehead.
He closed his eyes.
He wanted time to stop.
When he opened them, she was looking at him. And there was no fear. No pity. Just sincere concern.
Then, little by little, he allowed himself. One day, he leaned in, testing the waters. Another, he asked if she liked kids, feigning indifference. Then he dared more: he stayed after class longer. He walked her to the bus stop. He got into the habit of waiting for her.
Then, one night, he cracked.
It was raining again. Still that fine rain.
She had offered him an umbrella, and without really knowing why, he stepped closer. Too close. She smelled like soap and wind. And he held her. Against him. Against his chest. Barely, just enough.
He didn't say anything. He couldn't.
But his hands were shaking. He buried his face against her, like a lost child. And she didn't push him away. She even held him tighter.
That night, he cried.
Not loudly. Not sobbing. But those silent tears, almost shameful, that come from too far. From too deep. The ones that never find their way except in a moment when everything breaks just a little.
Y/n didn't say anything. She just kept her arms around him. Like a port. Like a refuge. And Yeon Si-eun thought: is this love?
Or was it simply the desperate need to finally feel loved?
Sometimes, when she laughed, he felt a hole in his chest. As if something wanted to get out, but he didn't know how. He wanted to tell her everything: the loneliness, the silences at home, the lack of attention. But he couldn't. So he just looked at her. With his sad eyes, those that silently said: love me. See me. Welcome me.
And she did.
He became dependent. On her arms. On her presence. He loved lying against her when he could. Once, she had run her fingers through his hair, thinking he was asleep. He wasn't asleep. He carved that moment into him like a promise.
But a persistent fear remained.
What if she left? What if she looked at him one day the way his mother looked at him? Without really seeing him?
So he became a little colder, a little more distant. To protect himself. But she, she didn't give up. She held on. She came back. Again and again. Each time.
And little by little, he thawed. Not like in the movies. Not all at once. But over time. With her.
He loved her. No, he was crazy about her.
It wasn't a loud love. It was a feline, gnawing, vital love. She was everything he had never received. Everything he had never dared ask for.
And every day, he silently prayed: let her stay.
Let her keep looking at him.
Let her keep loving him.
Because in her arms, for the first time, Yeon Si-eun was a loved son, a protected boy, a young man in love.
Finally alive.
---
Si-eun found himself in a place that, once upon a time, would have seemed nonsensical to him. A place that had no place in his cold, controlled world. At y/n's house. He never thought this could happen. Not him, the forgotten child of a constantly absent father, the cold silhouette of a rejected son. But reality was there. In her arms. In her breath against his. In the familiar sounds of the evening, the soft light of the entrance to her home.
He had never wanted to go, but she had invited him, insisting with a tone that allowed no objection. "You deserve to relax. You don’t come enough." And so, he had come, the first time. He stayed. He left. But his mind never left that place.
y/n lived in a house full of children's laughter, hurried footsteps, and voices that never stopped. She had two younger brothers and a sister. Every time he came, they greeted him with raw enthusiasm. He remembered their first glance. They had studied him, this strange boy who seemed so different from their older sister. But they had become attached to him, like children do with a protective figure. He, who had never had that.
y/n’s parents were rarely around. Often gone for work or other obligations, like invisible shadows in y/n's life. This left a void that she filled with her kindness, her patience. Si-eun had once seen her take care of her siblings after a long school day, her hands constantly moving, her gaze always gentle and reassuring. But when she saw him, she became something else, calmer. She didn't need words to express how she felt about him. And him... he no longer needed to pretend.
The first time he had nestled against her, he hadn’t thought. He had simply given into the warmth, this warmth he had never known. She was lying on the couch, her legs curled up, and he had sat next to her, then slowly, like a child seeking protection, he had leaned in until their bodies were almost touching. y/n hadn’t said anything, but her arms had surrounded him. And, suddenly, the world stopped spinning for him. All that mattered was the beat of her heart against his own. This connection, silent but meaningful.
It became a silent ritual. After school, he spent more and more time at her place. Sometimes, he just came to be in the same room as her. Sometimes, he lay beside her, closing his eyes. Their conversations were simple, but so full of unspoken words. Talks about trivial things that, somehow, seemed to resonate with a depth he had never known.
One evening, after playing a game with her siblings, he sat next to y/n on the couch. She was reading a book, but her fingers barely touched the pages. He watched her, his eyes never leaving her face. A slight smile played on her lips. "You have tired eyes." She looked at him, a little surprised, but didn’t say anything. Then she turned toward him. "It's because I worry about you."
Her words struck his mind like a cold wind, piercing the barrier he had built. Why would she worry about him? Her, the light in his life? Her, who knew how to give without asking? Why would she have empathy for him, a boy no one wanted to see?
She felt his silence. "You know, Si-eun, I’m not that naive. I see what you’re hiding. I see that you’re tired, that you carry all of this alone." She placed a light hand on his thigh. "You don’t have to carry it all alone."
It was strange. Her words, simple, hit him with such force that it hurt. She wasn’t rejecting him. She wasn’t fleeing from that dark side of him. She accepted him. She accepted him as he was. For him, it was nothing short of a revolution. No one had ever accepted him. Not even his mother. He looked up at her, his lips trembling slightly. "I... I don’t know how to be... the person you want."
She shook her head gently, her hair swaying slightly. "I don’t want anything from you, Si-eun. I just want you. All of you."
He swallowed. She didn’t understand. Or maybe she understood more than he thought. He pulled back slightly, embarrassed. But she didn’t let him go. She gently pulled him back toward her. And, without a word, she held him in her arms. This time, he didn’t pull away. He nestled against her, tighter, longer. He let her hold him. Her arms around him were a silent promise of protection. He allowed it. He had never had this feeling of being at home, of being truly at home, in someone else’s arms.
She rocked him gently, almost as if she had known him forever. She blew softly in his hair, her hands sliding slowly over his back, soothing. "I’m not going anywhere, Si-eun. You are my home. I’ll always be here."
He felt the warmth of her breath. His heart raced in his chest. He closed his eyes, a weight on his shoulders slowly dissipating. He didn’t need words. This contact, this simple embrace, was more than anything he could have asked for. The fear of abandonment, of rejection, melted into the air. He was no longer afraid. Because y/n was there.
A kiss. Soft, light. But everything changed. Her lips met his, at first timidly, like a question with no immediate answer. Then the kiss became more urgent, more essential, as if they had both been waiting for this moment without ever daring to say it. He gave himself to her, to this warmth that had always been missing in his life.
They stayed there, in that gentle silence, in that refuge. Si-eun had never wanted to be loved. But he had needed it so much. And there, in y/n's arms, he was no longer that cold and distant boy. He was just a man, a man in love, who had found his home.
She stroked the back of his neck, slowly, without haste. He didn’t move, enjoying every second. No need for more. Just to be here, with her. She kissed him again, her lips brushing his. A kiss to tell him he wasn’t alone. A kiss to tell him he was loved.
That night, he slept in her arms. Not out of desire, but to hear her breath, to feel her warmth. He had never wanted to sleep anywhere but here, in this place where he was welcomed, loved. He didn’t have to be anyone else. He could just be himself. And he knew, deep down, that he would always be with her.
At her place. At home. Together.
Forever.
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Requests are open. Enjoy!
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