#so I wrote my own fics for it and screamed at my friends
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I would love to recommend @tomtomslongdong as a *reader* highlight. It is always such a joy to see what they’re reading but also to read whatever comments and tags they leave behind. Let alone to be a writer and receive their feedback. One of the greatest supporters in the fandom, truly if no one else cares for a fic I wrote but they enjoyed it, it’s like the ultimate stamp of approval.
This week, we're highlighting @tomtomslongdong as a commenter! All recs this week will be from her recs.
Tomtom answered some questions about what she does to find fics and to leave great comments under the cut
Why Stranger Things?
I went from casual watcher in anticipation of season 4 coming out to falling in love with all the characters in the space of a few weeks. Friendship, loyalty and messy family dynamics are such a core part of st, which is something I latch onto when I’m watching anything. And maybe.. there were some characters(Eddie) that I grew even more fond of(definitely Eddie). I even remember seeing edits of Eddie at the picnic table but it wasn’t until I had watched that first episode of season 4 that I truly got it. It’s been 84 years but I’m still in love with that man.
What's your favorite ship (platonic or romantic) to read?
I read x reader the most but I adore platonic stobin and I wanna read about them more. Their dynamic is everything to me. Infact Robin with any of the st girls too. I look up this one fanart of robin and Carol Perkins a lot. A LOT.
How do you typically find fics?
At the start I would brave the tags more and I do still do that but genuinely it’s from blogs I like and follow reblogging them. I’ve curated my own little balance of people reading stuff I know I’ll like and also being introduced to fics I might not have even thought of reading before seeing their reactions.
Are there other forms of fanart you enjoy? How do you find them?
Fanart that’s been inspired by fics or concepts, just witnessing one artist inspire another is so joyful. Also when an artists self inserts themselves into their art! It’s seriously one of the coolest things ever. My favourite thing to do is trawling the tags of an eddie blog as I go on a deep dive. I scrape the barnacles off that boat allllll the way back to the start. I find all sorts of fanart and work that maybe I’ve never seen as I didn’t gravitate back to tumblr till later in summer ‘22.
What's your tip for leaving comments on works?
Just tell them how it made you feel man. Scream it at the writers. I’m no good at articulating myself at all but sometimes you read the exact thing you needed to read and all is right with the world. Let them know they’re very much to blame for your emotional state when they post. And who knows those writers might occasionally grace you with the biggest gift of all (more lore on the world they’ve built directly from their mind via an IV drip known as the DMs)
Is there any fanwork that really stood out to you?
hockey!eddie has an iron tight grip on me and if anyone could find the stats on how many times I’ve viewed dr-aculaaa and hearsegrrl art on him, you’d take my phone away
Is there anything we didn't ask that you'd like to add?
Just that it’s wild, there’s this little community in my phone that’s so smart? So talented? And I’ve formed what I hope I can call genuine friendships from this and yet no one in my day to day real life knows I’m just kicking around in here haha! I get to be my weirdo self with my weirdo friends in peace and I think that’s lovely.
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borealwrites · 9 months ago
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Ciri, quietly pondering to herself: ‘ Do not let him know how awkward you are. ‘
Roche: Nice weather.
Ciri: Oh, thanks—. . . What?
You know what, I can totally see Ciri falling for this guy
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I mean I know nothing about his personality or skills, but he has a motorcycle. I approve of this Witcher x final fantasy ship! Maybe. Idk. Like I said I literally know nothing about him and I refuse to do more than an image search. Anyway he looks like he’d be awkward too! I don’t write for either of those fandoms, so I’m not taking that as a prompt.
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thecoochiefairy · 3 months ago
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━━ 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑒𝑠 .ᐟ toji.
warnings 𑄽𑄺 21.5K pregnancy kink, a LOT of dialogue ngl, third person pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough sex, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, daddy kink, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, dad! toji, sweet! toji, talks of self-image, aggressive toji, daddy toji, baby megumi, minors aren’t welcome!
song to play while listening; 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑜𝑧𝑒 ; 𝑆𝑍𝐴
━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ i don’t wanna get all self deprecating, this didn’t feel like my best work, but this is the second part to the first fic ever wrote, and i missed my seioni, toji + megumi pairing. it’s kinda long. sorry. i had to. enjoy, love you. 🫶🏽
AN INTERNAL THUMPING DRONES ALONG HER EARS AS HER SLENDER EYES GLANCE UP AT THE SCREEN. The gel along her stretched belly is cold against her skin, the hand of the doctor continuing to rub gently as she stared at the life growing inside of her. 
Her mind had been everywhere to say the least. This was the first time she’d been to an appointment by herself, having her friends hold a trembling hand as she got news about the journey of her pregnancy. She was trying to keep her attention along the doctor's voice as her anxieties whipped around her body like a tornado. But as the nurse walked in with a forced smile, purposely flipping the paper over into the doctor's hand, her attentiveness peaked. 
Her heart could’ve dropped as the same nurse gave her a rub to the shoulder, thoughts immediately going to the worst. Those worries pulled all together in preparation for an anxiety attack as the doctor placed his glasses down to look along the words, giving a hum at the results. 
Although she wanted to scream, she pulled it together and filled the silence within the room as she politely asked, “Uh…is something wrong, Doctor?”
The doctor glances up at her, giving a small smile to reassure her with a shake to his head, “No, nothing’s wrong, Seioni. The baby is fine as well,” he pats her thigh, seeing as that causes her to release the breath she’d been holding before he continues, “The only… hiccup would be that your blood pressure seems to be higher than normal.”
“Oh,” she says softly, “I didn’t realize.”
What was she supposed to say? She felt like she was in trouble, unsure of how to process that information. She hadn’t been feeling too bad—a couple of headaches here and there—she figured it was just her lack of eating. 
The doctor hums as he glances back at the paper, “How have you been feeling lately? How has the pregnancy been on you so far?” He asks, looking back at her.
“Good! I mean—as good as I can be,” she watches as the nurse comes to wipe her stomach, softly thanking her as she sits up. She knew that she might not have been telling the entire truth, but this also wasn’t a therapy session. Rubbing her belly had become a nail-biting replacement, seeing as the doctor then asks, “Do you still own your tattoo shop?” 
“Yeah, but I don’t work anymore. My fiancè takes care of everything, but for the most part the shop runs itself,” she briefly explains. 
The doctor nods understandingly. This still wasn’t a therapy session, but being her primary doctor and having that relationship with her, he couldn’t help but pry just a bit. 
 He hums, “That’s good to hear…” glancing at the ultrasound before looking back at her, “How has your home life been? How is your fiancé?”
That was the burning question. Officially being in a relationship with Toji taught her what it was like to be with a man, it scared her to open herself up to someone in a way she hadn’t in years. Not only did she never expect herself to actually end up with him, she damn sure didn’t expect to become a maternal figure to his son—Megumi—who was now freshly two-years old, hopping along for the ride of the relationship between his father and ‘Oni’’ as he’d call her. They all experienced a love between one another that blossomed as months passed—but that didn’t mean it didn’t have its…faults. 
Seioni sighed, tracing her fingers lightly against her belly before she replied, “My fiancé has a son, he just turned two. We’ve been potty training him and it’s been…a mess, no pun intended,” she lightly giggles, “He fusses a lot now since we’re trying to get him off of his pacifier, and he has trouble sleeping. I’ve also been trying to plan a wedding and baby shower by myself because my fiancè wants to make sure I have everything my way. On top of that I feel like a beluga whale, I can’t keep food down because I vomit at certain smells since my nostrils are similar to a dog now—do you know what dirt smells like? Seriously, I mean, have you smelled it? It's awful—but uh—As far as me and my fiancè, he’s been working a lot so…I don’t see much of him at times,” she realizes as everything sounds overwhelming, muttering a soft, “Sorry.”
The doctor gave a sympathetic look, understanding her situation. He sighs before he speaks again, giving a gentle smile to her, “You have a lot on your plate. You know what you’re experiencing are symptoms of stress, correct? That’s what’s causing your high blood pressure.”
Seioni knew that she could be a bit neurotic, but she didn’t realize that these things were genuinely putting her in a state of distress. Megumi’s growing pains, Toji’s lack of interest within the wedding and baby shower, and their lack of intimacy whether it was in the bedroom or out of it. Maybe she just needed some dick—or a box of tissues. 
“What does your husband do for work?” 
She blinks, not ever having an answer for that question. She then convinced herself, “Uh—contractor. Yup, contractor.” 
“Maybe you should suggest for him to take some time off of work then. But regardless, this is a beautiful situation. You have a baby girl coming, you're planning a baby shower, and your wedding will be soon, correct?” 
“Yes, I’m thinking Italy,” she nods, seeing as that makes the doctor warmly smile. 
She thinks to herself, this is a happy time. So why the hell did she feel so…mundane? 
She blinks, raising her eyes up to him as she nods, “I guess I didn’t realize I was stressing myself out that badly. Am I…harming my baby?” She worries, eyebrows furrowing as she lets out a deep breath.
“No, no. You’re not harming your baby in any way. I’m just worried for you. Both mentally and physically.” He reassured her, “It seems your blood pressure is fine now and everything else is normal. You just need to make sure you don’t stress yourself out anymore as your pregnancy progresses. Let me ask, are you and your fiancè intimate?”
She raises her eyes, feeling her face go lightly warm as she repeats, “Intimate as in…sex? Is that really okay during pregnancy?”
He gave a small laugh, a little flustered that it was even a question as he soothes, “Yes, dear. It’s perfectly fine, healthy for you and the baby. It also increases the production of oxytocin—“ he pauses as he sees her face fill with confusion before he explains, “The ‘love’ hormone, essentially. It reduces pregnant stress, improves sleep, and temporarily masks aches and pains. Sex, bonding, and an increase in endorphins help a pregnant woman sleep better to combat exhaustion and other griping pregnancy symptoms.” 
When he sees that she still has a hesitation along her face, he gives her a gentle touch along her shoulder as he says, “No stressing, okay? How about I prescribe you some Lexapro? You can take them as needed, not anything you have to worry about fitting into your schedule.”
Seioni immediately knew that if Toji wasn’t such a damn workaholic, he’d be under her like a baby attached to a nipple—already having a small disagreement about her taking anything that wasn’t her prenatals. He’d dealt with a pregnant woman before, wanting to make sure she was as healthy as possible. But shit, he didn’t know everything, did he?
“…I guess it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have. I’d just be worried if taking anything other than my prenatal might be harmful,” she tells him honestly.
He nods, understanding her concern. He sits down on a stool after he pulls it near her before breaking down, “That’s normal. Let me reassure you that Lexapro— a SSRI—Selective-serotonin-reuptake inhibitor— is safe for both pregnant women as well as their babies. It’s been shown that only 1% of the medication is passed on to the fetus during delivery, and that is an extremely small percentage. It’s deemed completely safe.”
She lets out a deep breath, realizing that she’s once again stressing herself out about things that don’t have to be overwhelming to her. This should’ve been the time where she rested, being seven months pregnant made her feel like she was going to explode. 
She then nods her head as she exhales, “Thank you so much, doctor. Me and my little boo boo feel so blessed to have you,” she gives him a soft smile, rubbing her belly happily.
 “It’s my pleasure. You’ be sure to take care of yourself, okay?” He teased her a little, standing back up on his feet, “I’ll call that prescription in and the pharmacy should have it ready for you by the time you get there,” As he goes to help her off the table, he adds on, “Oh, and your fiancé should be expecting a call from me as well.”
“Uh, why? If you don’t mind me asking?” She places her hand along the bottom of her stomach, letting out a tired breath as she pulls herself up to stand.
The doctor chuckled lightly as he saw the small struggle and helped her stand, saying, “It’s nothing worrisome. Just gonna let him know about your prescription,” He tells her, “He’ll need to know about your blood pressure as well.”
Shit. She was hoping that she could at least talk to him about the prescription first, knowing that when he meant something, he meant it. She pulls her smile lines up to hold a happy expression on her face, nodding as she repeats, “Yeah, of course. Thank you again.” 
The moment she leaves the doctors office, she soaks in his words, taking them into consideration. This should’ve been the happiest time for her. The only stress should have been picking out names, choosing colors for her bridesmaids dresses, and creating a registry for the perfect gifts. Another issue she’d been facing was the insecurities she felt within her own body changing. Her nose was wider than usual, her hips were now actually child bearing, and her belly walked in the room before she did. What if she wasn’t attractive anymore? 
On the opposite end, Toji drowned in her scent, wanting to eat her alive each time he saw her—if only she knew that. She wasn’t sure why her face was warm as she clutched the olive green baby doll dress, standing within Victoria Secret as the cashier rudely eyed her belly more than she needed to. 
“‘Fuck are you looking at?” She said before she thought about it, the cashier quickly dropped her eyes back to the lingerie as she shoved it into the bag. 
Finally making her way back home, she thanks the babysitter as she sends her off for the rest of the day. She thinks to herself as she’s within the kitchen taking out the steak that she plans to cook, realizing these issues wouldn’t feel as big if she had Toji’s full support. 
It's not that he wasn’t trying to help. He just wanted everything her way, she was his princess. He assumed that letting her handle these tasks would keep her busy since she complained about not working. She hoped that once Megumi went to bed, she could have some…alone time with Toji. But as she was now sat across from Megumi who refused to pee in the toilet, her track of time was off, and she wasn’t sure if her mission would be a success. She sat on the phone with her mom, listening to her complain about her older brother’s constant circle of women he presented to their father and aunt.  Even through her amusement, she couldn’t help that she deeply missed them all, although they could sometimes be…something. 
“Your stupid-ass-big-headed ass brother has brought the second girl over here this week, talking about ‘This the one for real Ma’,’ boy, please. And the girls be’ cute, too! If only they had a brain. I tell them to run! Shoes off! Barefoot! Why didn’t you just let me ship him off to your place and move into your old condo?”
“Because he would have to pay rent, which would require him to have a job,” she emphasizes, “You let Nova eat, sleep and shit in your house for free. If you gave his’ ass responsibility he’d explode.”
“What you’ tryna say, lil’ girl? Don’t make me smack you through this phone.”
“Hitting a pregnant woman? Have some decorum,” she chuckles, “But you know exactly what I’m saying, momma. That’s your pride and joy, you need to take him off the nipple and kick him out, have him shack up with his thousands of bitches. I love my brother to death, but he can’t be living under you his whole life.”
“How about you worry about the baby in your belly and the one in front of you who refuses to pee?”
Her eyes immediately met with the familiar gray ones she saw within her fiancé’s. His fat olive cheeks are currently a tint of red as his arms cross below him, dark hair spruced all around his head as he frowned across from her, sitting on his teddy bear decorated makeshift toilet. 
“Have you been taking the fish oil pills I sent?”  her mother asks.
Seioni frowns, “Yuck. Everything except those. I can barely keep food down, do you want me to vomit?” 
She then turns her head back towards Megumi as she sighs, “C’mon, Sweetface. You said ‘Oni, pee!’ earlier.”
Another issue that they faced, with Megumi being two, in comparison to other children there was a…slowness to his ability to speak. They thought he’d be farther in his journey, understanding more than he could reply. But it wasn’t an end of the world issue. It was something that was brought up in conversation when it came to Toji’s ability to teach him, but that conversation quickly ended. One thing everyone knew—Toji didn’t play about his child. 
Megumi shakes his, saying, “No, no, no!” as he wiggles his way from the toilet. 
Her mother hears their little argument as she asks, “Meg’ giving you a hard time with potty training again?” 
“As always,” Seioni sighs. 
“How about you give him treats for it?” 
Seioni frowns, “Jesus, he’s not a dog, momma. And I don’t want him thinking that the only way you accomplish things is immediately receiving an award for them.” 
She sighs as she looks at Megumi, “I wish you were here, mommy. You had me and Nova potty trained before we were even counting. How’s Dad? And Aunt Celeste?”
Her mother heard the longing tone of her daughter’s words and immediately sympathized. Her daughter always had a close relationship with her family, so it was expected for her to miss them. 
“Your father’s fine. He’s in the backyard tending to the garden like he says he’s going to do every summer,” she replied, slightly amused by her over-the-top husband, “And Celeste is somewhere in her room caked-up on the phone with her many boyfriends. Probably where Nova’s slutty ass gets it from.” 
Seioni laughs lightly as she smiles, just envisioning her father out in the garden every summer with a ridiculous sunhat and shorts, a gardening shovel in his hand as the sweat glistens on his body. She also envisioned her aunt, boisterous laugh as she twirled her hair to any man’s attention. This conversation was only aiding her home-sickness, she felt her stomach beginning to ache.
She brings her eyes back to Megumi, staring over him as he sits silently along the toilet. She then says to him, “Megumi, pee?” 
Megumi gives a pout, his chin quivering as he mutters out, “No-potty!” his little hands curling up into fists. He refused to use the toilet, and only wanted to use his pull-ups. 
Seioni huffs, running her hand through her hair, “Oh my hell, just pee, Megumi,” she told him as her mother laughed through the call.
“Eat-eat!” He then soundlessly calls out. 
Seioni raises an eyebrow as she crosses her arms, “No eat-eat, Megumi doesn’t want to pee!”
“He sounds just like his father. Stubborn as hell,” her mother laughs as she hears her daughter and grandchild from the phone. 
Seioni sighs as she rolls her eyes, but with a slight laugh as she agrees, “Yeah, exactly like his father…” She sighs once again before saying, “Megumi, you get no food until you pee!” She told him.
“Does he do this all the time?”
“Girl, yes. He only listens to Toji. Probably cause’ he’s scary. But he wanna take advantage of his ‘Oni’,” Seioni rolls her eyes. 
Megumi’s eyes were wide as a look of horror came across his face. He refused to pee, but he also wanted to eat. He’d only just recently gotten rid of his bottles and had been eating actual, solid food now. 
He began to pout heavily, tears slowly gathering in his eyes before he replied with a quiet, “Oni’, Hungry.” as he held his belly, as if to further his point.
Although she tried to get better with not allowing his cries to defeat her, she couldn’t help but soften at that olive toned face going red in the cheeks, swelling as his doe eyes dropped tears. 
She then muttered into the phone, “Fuckin’ hell, Momma, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
Seioni’s mother chuckles over the line, hearing the annoyance in her daughter’s voice. “Okay,” she replies, “You better make sure Toji’s big headed ass is sitting with Megumi by the toilet the minute he gets home, you shouldn’t be the only one doing this. You acting like more of a parent then he is!”
“Mom, please don’t start,” Seioni sighs, rolling her eyes as that was probably the twentieth time her mother told her that, “Goodbye, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you too, baby,” her mother replies as if she didn’t just throw shade at her fiancè, “Talk to you later. Bye, Megumi.”
The sound of her mom’s soft voice nearly makes her want to begin crying like Megumi, missing the warmth that she brings around her. She could be a pain in the ass at times—especially when it came to her feelings about Toji’s constant absence as of recently—but that was her mom regardless. 
Megumi’s attention is pulled away from his tears as he hears her voice through the phone, calling out a small, “Bye, Bye” before Seioni hangs up the call.
Seoni places the phone down, raising her arms as she sighs, “C’mon. Oni’ is sorry, okay? Just need you to pee without your diaper one of these days.”
Megumi slowly lifted himself up from the toilet and pouted more as he muttered, “No potty,” he wasn’t going to give in to her just yet.
She had her own transgressions with the fact that Megumi had a hard time listening to her when it came to potty-training, and it was even more frustrating that the only person he listened to at times was his father. She loved Megumi like he was her own, but she knew that her not actually being his mother might’ve clued into their issues. 
“Eat-eat?” She raises an eyebrow, pulling his pamper up along his hips as she kisses him against his tear filled cheek, standing with a groan as she places him along the side of her hip.
“Eat-eat,” Megumi nodded heavily. 
His little hands clutched along her shirt as he began to sob softly, his pouts becoming more intense. His face began to become more red as tears fell more down his cheeks, staining a part of her shirt.
Seoni let out a sigh—this was gonna be a long night. 
She was halfway successful with her mission of cooking for Toji before he got home, making a wagyu steak with garlic buttered mash potatoes, only able to make a small salad for herself as she couldn’t handle anything too heavy on her stomach. Another thing she couldn’t stop crying about, nearly vomiting anything heavier than salads, sandwiches or liquids. She wasn’t sure what time he was coming home tonight, knowing that his job delved within ‘mafia/criminal’ activity, but never asking what he exactly did, just hoping he got home safely in the process. 
Once she fed Megumi and got him to finally go to sleep, she took the final step in her plans. She took a long shower, shaved her entire body, and lathered herself with baby oil and vanilla scented perfume. 
But as she stood in the baby doll dress, her breast spilled out the sides of the lace fabric, her round belly large  under the sheer gown—all of her insecurities came flooding in the warmth of her cheeks. She felt…unattractive.  
Once she changed into one of Toji’s oversized jerseys, she spent the next hour crying her eyes out, seated on the sofa as she bored into old pictures of herself. She cried so hard that she ended up knocking out, dozing off along the pillows unknowingly that she never took into account how late Toji finally came home. 
He was always terrible at entering the house. Heavy boots thumped along the floor, a low curse echoing along the walls as he stepped on one of Megumi’s toys trying to come inside. Due to her being a light sleeper, Seioni’s eyes slowly blank open, reflexively holding her belly as she looks at her fiancè. Toned arms, muscles bulging through his shirt as that dragon tattoo trailed around his left hand, now crawling under his shoulder and down his back. Dark hair and matching furrowed eyebrows frowned as he appeared behind the door, scarred lip twitching as his eyes fell over her figure. 
Seeing this man was like seeing him for the first time. Its like he’d almost gotten bigger in height and broadness, almost having to slouch for her consideration. Steel gray eyes were deadly, glares and stoic appearance making her want to melt within a constant.  A small scowl plays along his mouth—per usual—eyes flickering from the toy he just stepped on to the woman sleeping on the couch, journal nearly falling from her grasp as she begins to wake up. 
As soon as his eyes met hers though, his heart warmed a bit, relaxing slightly as his deep voice gruffly called, “Baby... What are you doing sleeping on the couch? You’re supposed to be in bed.” 
He takes his leather jacket off and slings it over the table, pausing as he picks it back up to hang along the coat rack by the door before Seioni can choke him out about it. He's already making his way over to her flawlessly beautiful figure, dark hair sticking along her toffee face as she adjusted to reawakening, feeling as her legs are being gently pulled over his lap. 
Her voice is soft and immensely quiet, “I…dozed off, uh…writing baby names. Remembering what the doctor told me,” she runs her fingers through her dark hair as she sighs, “Hi, Daddy.”
He gives a rumbling chuckle as he glances down at the journal, looking at her words before he glances back up to her, pulling her more onto his lap instead, “Hey, Mama,” he muttered back, his large hand lightly resting against her belly. 
“You’re pushing yourself too hard, aren’t you?” 
“Today was by default. Megumi gave me the blues trying to potty train him again, but I did end up making dinner for you,” she wraps her arms around his neck, feeling the warmth of his palms on her hips.
Toji lets out a small huff, “‘Boy is just as hard headed as I am, you know that. You’ll tire yourself out more trying to get him to do something he doesn’t want to do.” He gently pulled her closer, her legs on either side of his lap, wrapping an arm around her hips. 
“What’d you make? I’m starving,” he grunted out, his hand rubbing her hip, massaging it lightly.
“Wagyu steak and garlic mash potatoes, how Muffin likes it,” she playfully rolls her eyes, giggling as she feels his palm lightly smack along her ass from the nickname.
In regular fashion, he quickly grumbles, “I keep telling your ass I’m not your damn Muffin.” 
He then chuckled, “Smartass, but you know me so goddamn well, beautiful,” he teased nonetheless, giving her a grin as his hand rested comfortably along her hips. 
“Just like I know that you like being my Muffin, hm?” 
“Stop talking to me. Anyways, you know if you’re going to go through the effort of cooking, I need to go through the effort to reward you afterwards,” he travels his hand upward as he digs his fingers into her hair to clutch her forward, lips sucking the skin of her neck into his mouth. 
It made her sigh breathlessly, her face warm as a small giggle pulled from her lips, “Don’t I get a reward for just being the love of your life?”
He chuckled as he pulled away from her neck, his lips just centimeters away from hers as he told her, “It never ends with you, does it, woman? Always needing more from me.”
The constant realization with their lack of intimacy hits her again, a chill coursing down Seioni’s spine at the thought. But another chill came as she remembered not feeling as attractive as she usually did. She can tell that Toji feels her body tense, hoping he doesn’t press her reaction—she really didn’t want to end the night off in an argument about her own self conflicts. 
She nearly sighs in appreciation as he slows his movements down, hearing as he asks, “How was the doctor?” 
She raises her eyes as she squints, “The doctor called you today, Fushiguro. I’m assuming you missed it due to work.”
Toji nearly groaned at the news of her saying that the doctor called. He’d meant to answer them, but as of recently work had been busier. 
“Damn it, I knew I forgot something.” He muttered out, lightly pinching his nose, “What did they call about?”
“He wanted to tell you about my high blood pressure,” she lightly trails her finger along his arm, the dragon along the veined skin shining under the living room light.
His head raised up, “What’s causing you to have high blood pressure?” 
“He said I could just be stressing myself out, which—I know I am. He prescribed me Lexapro, I think I might try it out for a couple of days, see how it makes me feel.” 
She can practically feel the frown on his face before she sees it, keeping her eyes away from him as she attempts to move herself off of his lap. Key word, attempted. 
“You’re not taking those.”
She raises her eyebrows, “The doctor told me they were safe, Toji. I don’t think he’d give me anything if he knew I couldn’t take it.”
“You think I give a fuck about what the doctor said?” 
She rolls her eyes, not ready to go back and forth with him as his arm tightens around her hips, his fingers digging a bit harder into her curves as he speaks, “If it’s not a damn prenatal, I don’t want you taking anything else. I’m not risking shit happening to you. There’s better ways to control your blood pressure.”
“Like what? Not stressing myself? That’s easier said than done. Who else wouldn’t be stressed if they had a baby in their terrible twos, a baby in their belly—then planning a wedding and baby shower all at once?” She raises an eyebrow.
“What the fuck does that have to do with you taking some dumbass shit like Lexapro? You can do all of that without medication, Seioni.” 
“Oh bite me,” she snarls, “Don’t go all government on me. You still haven’t answered my question.”
“These are issues that can be easily resolved. I’m waiting for your point.”
“Easily resolved?” Her hand quickly latches to pull his arm off of her, his hand becoming more firm as he holds onto her before his mouth fires off, “Seioni. Don’t fuckin’ play with me right now, move your hand.” 
“Boy, fuck off! Who the hell are you to tell me what I can’t take? My father?”
“Boy?” He raises his own eyebrow, full lips and scar twitching in her defiance. 
When she’s finally able to get him to loosen his grip,  she tries to hide her grunt as she has to hold her back and belly all at once to properly stand, struggling as she does so before successfully coming off of his lap. 
The minute she began getting up, his hands went immediately to her hips to hold her in his lap, a very deep frown on his face as he spoke in a dark tone, “Don’t give me that bullshit, woman. I’m your goddamn husband, that’s why I’m saying it—And you can’t even get up to stand by yourself, you can barely even move without grunting in pain, sit the hell down.”
“I can do stuff on my own!” She exclaims, crossing her arms, “Don’t act like I’m helpless, bastard. I’m just saying that maybe Lexapro wouldn’t make me so neurotic.”
“I’m not saying you’re helpless. I’m just saying that your body is not the same as it was before you were pregnant,” he grumbled back, the vein in his forehead throbbing as he spoke. He looked directly down at her arms, seeing how she crossed them across her chest as he continued, “We don’t need anymore side effects happening to you or the baby because you’re wanting some antidepressant. You don’t need those, you need to sit your ass down and take a damn break. This is why your blood pressure is high.”
“Well how about you make me less stressed by helping me out? You wanna be tied up in your stupid ass job all the time, how wouldn’t I be stressed?” She narrows her eyes.
There it is, the argument he’d been avoiding this entire time. He knew that she was upset about the time he’d been spending at work, but work was important to him. He wanted to be able to take care of her and Megumi in more ways than imagined. 
“Don’t act like I just work for shits and fuckin’ giggles.”
“Don’t make me feel like I’m supposed to be satisfied with that ! I’m asking you to at least seem interested when I talk to you about these things. Wedding, baby shower, baby names! Anytime I bring it up you blow me off about it—using the excuse that you just want to make sure I do everything I want for both events, but in reality you just don’t wanna do shit for them!” She clocks him, swatting his arms away in an attempt to touch her.
The vein in his forehead turned into a headache as she continued speaking, her words hitting at his pride. He was beginning to get incredibly pissed as she continued.
“I don’t want to do anything for it because those things aren’t about me, it’s about you and the baby. What kind of man do you think I would be if I didn’t allow you to plan your own gender reveal, your own baby shower, your own wedding, your own goddamn baby gifts? I don’t do anything to help but I’m giving you the reigns here.”
“Well maybe I’d like my fiancè to seem slightly excited about these events, to just give me some type of showing that you care!”
“You’re really doing this right now?” He blinks, “You know I care. If I didn’t I wouldn’t give a fuck about all this stupid-girly shit,” he blows a breath, sucking his teeth, “Shit. Maybe you do need the goddamn Lexapro.” 
Similar to Megumi, another newfound part of her pregnancy was the way that she could instantly cry on cue, almost like a baby. To hear his words instantly hurt her feelings. 
She didn’t mean to give the reaction she did, but everything began hitting her all at once. His words, the doctor's words, her own words. A pout came to her lips, her eyes welling with tears as she pressed her hands to her face, “I just feel so …overwhelmed.”
The minute she began to cry, Toji tensed immediately. He absolutely hated it when she cried, and her pregnancy definitely didn't help him on that end at all. He was about to respond but another sniffle came from her, and then followed by another, and another, he groaned.
"Oh jesus... Stop crying, please, you know I hate this shit..." he grumbled softly, his large hands lightly rubbing at her hips to try and soothe her.
That made her full on sob, her face red as her cheeks swelled, her hands over her face as she cried, “I c—can’t do this alone. I miss my family, I wish they were here to help me with these things. Megumi is giving me a hard time, I—I can’t keep any food down, I can’t fit any of my clothes, I feel like a fucking ugly fat whale.”
He could feel how his shirt got damp, tears staining it from her crying, but he couldn’t care less as he held her against him. Despite the pregnancy, she still felt so small in his grip, and it reassured him that although his words could be mean, he was always there to comfort her.
His head laid against the top of her head as he muttered softly, “You're not alone. You have me, okay? You have me—your…Muffin,” he almost vomited at his words, “ And Meggie, we’re here. You're not alone, babydoll.”
“But you’re always workinggg,” she sobs, hiding her face within his chest as she cries even harder, nearly unable to breath as tears drop heavily from her face.
“Baby, you gotta calm down.”
He tried soothing her as his hand began gently trying to brush away some of the tears falling down her face. Her sobbing was beginning to worry him, she was crying too damn hard. 
“I know you’re upset about the amount of time I’ve been working but—baby, I’m just tryna’ handle shit for us,” he was trying to rationalize with her, but it was very difficult to do so when she was crying.
“M—Maybe y—you just don’t want me or this baby,” she trembles.
Toji quickly grips her face, pulling her tear streaked cheeks to stare up at him as he pulls her forward, “Cut this shit out,” a firm, dark tone, “I want you more than anything with this baby. Quit saying bullshit like that. I think you’re the prettiest, Oni’. You’re lucky I can’t fuck the shit out of you right now.” 
She takes another deep breath, unable to stop herself from crying. The waterworks flowed, keeping her face in her hands as she quivered, “‘M sorry. I’m just so scared. I can’t even get Megumi to pee in the toilet. How am I gonna be a good mother? W—what if I can’t do this?” more tears appear along her face, nearly having to catch her breath from her tearful attack.
He could feel the way she was shaking and quivering from crying, and it only continued to make him feel guilty. Her words hurt, but it hurt even more when she began doubting herself.
“You’re going to be a great mom,” he muttered with an assurance, his hand lightly moving across her face, trying to brush away the tears. “Megumi’s just stubborn, baby. You’ll be able to get him eventually, it just takes time. 
You’re doing great. You’re doing just fine, okay?”
His words make her feel slightly better. She knew that she was doing better than most, and maybe being so critical was another cause of her stress. She knew she was going to be the best mother she could be, she just had to believe that. Especially with Toji’s support. She wraps her arms around his shoulders as she shoves her face within his neck, sniffling as she tries to control her breathing. 
She then muffled, “I—I love you.”
He placed his chin along the top of her head, his hand gently clutching at the back of her hair. “I love you too, beautiful. I love you so damn much.”
“Even when I’m a crying mess?” She mutters, feeling the grumble of his chuckle along her body.
“Even when you’re a complete mess, I still love you. You’re still my gorgeous, loveable mess, baby,” he reassured, placing a gentle kiss along the top of her head, “I meant what I said. You’ in my jersey is gonna get you fucked up,” he grunts, the arousement of this man never failing.
She rolls her eyes against his damp shirt, lightly swatting his arm as she utters, “Hush.”
The comfort and reassurance of this man was like no other— she couldn’t ask for a better upcoming husband. Through all of that, she feels her body becoming tired again after the waterworks, laying herself deeper into him as she lets a moment of silence go between them. Despite their disagreements, she loved him endlessly. 
“Baby?” She asks softly. 
“Yeah?”
“Can I have some of your steak?” 
“Is it gonna make you vomit and then cry after you vomit?”
“…Yes.” 
“Then no.” 
                     ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆
AS A COUPLE OF WEEKS HAD PASSED, Seioni had  come to the revelation that the only thing she’d do from now on was enjoy this pregnancy. With that, she requested instead of taking Lexapro to receive something for her morning sickness. Toji’s stubbornness subsided at the thought of her being able to eat, to which he painfully agreed on the medication.
All this man wanted to do was make his woman happy. He wanted to withhold the surprise he had for her and Megumi, but knowing that not allowing his fiancè to do her ‘girly-shit’ in preparation for an upcoming vacation to Maui, Hawaii, she’d go into labor if she couldn’t buy a whole new wardrobe.  
She was like a child when it came to her excitement—if only her fiancè and his son were as equally elated in her process. She enjoyed every single swipe of his card, outfits, getting her hair done, pampering herself in preparation to be along the beach. She dragged Toji and Megumi all around the mall with her, finding outfits for them as well—ignoring the looks shared between the son and father, impatient and only wanting to be curled up next to her at home. But as he watched her stare within the mirror as she tried on two-piece bikinis, not giving a damn about her round belly, shopping wasn’t as bad as he made it to be—he was now excited. 
The day finally came as they were at the bustling airport. Seioni pulled her bohemian braids behind her ear, more human hair than anything flowing in between the individuals as her brown skin was lightly russet within the face, her freckle’s almost making her look sun kissed. She wore a ballerina pink baby tee, matching yoga pants and her hello kitty sandals, trying to carry her own personal bag on her shoulder as she gave a polite nod to the airport worker after showing her passport. Toji could’ve nearly snatched that bag off of her shoulder, almost glaring at her for attempting to carry something as heavy as her bag. 
“I had it,” she said softly, rolling her eyes.
He grumbled, raising an eyebrow at her eye-roll as he shifted the strap along his shoulder, allowing her to walk in front of him. He was like a guard dog, ready to pounce at any moment as she spun around in her dream land.
“And you say I’m stubborn,” Toji mutters. 
She raises an eyebrow, “You’ talkin’ shit over there?” Taking Megumi’s small hand within hers, pulling him as he waddled down the line towards TSA. 
“Do you want me to repeat myself in a louder tone?”
She shot daggers at him, eyebrows frowning down as she nearly flung Megumi to turn towards him, “You know what, as a matter of fact, I do!” 
“You better waddle your ass to TSA and stop talking to me.” 
“I don’t wanna have to smack your ass in this damn airport, Fushiguro,” she glares.
“That’s even if you could get to me in time!” 
“Oh! You’re tryna’ be funny! How about I roll over to you?! Bastard!—“ 
“You better stop talking to that man like that, Seioni!” 
She halts. Her attitude is on high alert as she thinks—who the hell is talking to her and why did they know her name?
 Her body fully turns as she searches for the voice that becomes familiar the more it echoes in her mind. Her heart nearly falls in her ass as she sees the familiar smile that she holds within her own face, her mother standing on the other side of the airport as well as her father, brother and aunt.
 Her eyes go wide as she shockingly calls, “Momma?!” 
Her eyes turn to Toji, seeing the smile that suppresses within his face. He knew that she was having a hard time with this pregnancy, so he thought surprising her with her family joining them on the trip would make her smile. He knew she hadn’t seen them in a while due to them living in a different city. 
She releases Megumi’s hand as she takes off for them, Toji calling, “Oni’!” scared she would fall, watching as she waddles quickly over to them, gripping her mother into the tightest hug she could’ve given her. 
“Oh my god,” she cried, tears immediately coming down her face, “What are you— when did you—how are you guys here?” She cried, looking between all of her family members, unable to stop herself from the waterworks.
The minute she began crying, her mother was shushing her gently with a light laugh, “Oh no, no, don’t cry, babygirl. We just wanted to surprise you, since we know you’ve been having a hard time lately.”
Her mother was lightly rubbing her back as her father spoke up next, “Your fiancé told us that you could use some moral support right now, we were more than happy to come see you. He paid for our flights here and to Maui.” 
“You didn’t tell us your fiancè had all this damn munyun, sis,” her brother calls from behind, a smirk along his face.
She scrunches her nose at her brother as she fires, “Don’t be ghetto, act like you’ve been around some money before.” 
“Yo’ daddy!” Nova rebuttals. 
“Aye! I’m nowhere near broke!” Her father, Noel protests. 
“Did you pay for this trip, broke-boy?” Her mother playfully insights to her husband, crossing her arms with a raised eyebrow, “I recall you only buying a neck pillow for the flight.” 
“Saanaá, please. You bought a matching one!” 
“And did! Celeste bought a third!” She points out. 
“And did! In my business? Mind yours, anyways, he does seem to have heavy ass pockets. What he do’ for work?” The aunt playfully instigates, Toji and Seioni quickly replying in an exhale, “Contractor.” 
Toji’s instantly amused by her family dynamic. He was unable to do anything but chuckle as she turns towards him, “You really did this?” Sniffling as she smacks his arm, “You did. You bastard.” 
Toji now had Megumi along his hip, nearly stumbling as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pecking his lips multiple times while still crying throughout her happiness.
“Is this the little Megumi?” Her aunt playfully gasps. 
 Megumi giggles as he raises his arms into hers, surprisingly going right into her embrace which makes her happily cheer. Toji almost had to blink twice. 
“Well come on people, our flight is gonna start boarding soon!” The mom calls, taking the hand of her husband as the aunt giggles excitedly with Megumi in her hands, Seioni’s brother helping with the bags as he follows behind.
 She turns to Toji as she wraps her arms around his neck, “You’re such a sweetie when you wanna be, y’know that? Always putting on this scary act and you’re just a little teddy bear. My muffin.” 
“You think I’m a teddy bear, huh?” He teased lightly, one of his hands lightly resting along the small of her back, holding her close to him. “Don’t be fuckin’ cute. I’m only soft for you.” 
“Looks like somebody's tryna’ get on my good side, hm?” 
She stood on her toes, dragging her tongue along his jaw before sucking his lips into her mouth, making him grunt lowly, “Don’t get me put on the no flight list, Seioni.” 
She giggles, “Bad boy. We’re with my family!” She teases, giggling as she tries to pull away, “The baby can hear you,” she places her hand along her belly.
“She’s gonna feel something if you don’t stop playing,” he threatens along her lips, hearing as she shockingly giggles, swatting his arm before she begins pulling him towards their gate, “Let’s go!” 
The flight had gone by quickly—at least for Seioni, she fell asleep before the plane even took off. Toji spent most of his time hovering the phone over to Megumi to keep him quiet, seeing as he became fussy from having to be stuck in one place for a long period of time. Her mom and aunt were also asleep, her brother and father engrossed in a movie they were both watching at the same time.
He couldn’t help but sigh as both Seioni and Megumi gripped along his body to comfortably sleep, Toji barely unable to move at this point. The tired laugh that fell from his lips was inevitable.
The minute that he felt like he’d dozed off, they arrived in Maui. His jet-lagged physique made him feel like his eyes were shutting by themselves, but to see the excitement of his fiancè as she pulled him through the airport, he figured he’d sleep another time. The sun was shining brighter than they’d ever experienced as they made it outside, the flowers were blooming and the trees were vibrantly green—it was almost overwhelming.
“We were only on the plane for an hour but yet my ass feels like it’s been sitting in a seat for hours,” he mutters, his voice tired. It felt like his chest had been filled with concrete; the only thing keeping him focused was the pure, raw excitement that his fiancè showed. 
“Awe, you need a massage?” Seioni questions, rubbing the side of his neck as he attempts to pick up her luggage, his and Megumi’s. 
“Don’t be tryna’ soften me up and shit” he points out, Seioni pouting as she says, “Moi? Softening you up? How dare you.” 
Toji huffs as she continues to rub at the side of his neck, the action making him want to just collapse into her body and fall asleep. 
“What do you want, woman?”
“Your love and affection?” She bats her eyelashes, “You've been working  so hard. Nova, come get these bags before I punch you! My man is doing all the damn work!” She calls for her brother, wrapping her arms around Toji as she pecks his jaw.
“Stop yelling at me, fucker.”
Both siblings raise their middle fingers to each other, Toji having to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing at the sight. 
He feels her arms wrapping around his body, subconsciously holding her a bit tighter against him as he grumbles, “Yeah, okay.”
When they walked into what essentially seems to be a villa, the sight was beautiful. The inside walls were brown, minimalist beige furniture with a large kitchen. There were multiple rooms, an opening that led out to a personal pool, fruits, finger foods plastered around the kitchen island to welcome the family in the house.
“Dammnn, Toji. You’ did good!” Saanaà calls, the aunt agreeing, “This shit is bougie. You’ must really love Oni’!” 
“She’s aight!,” her brother Nova comments, the dad intervening, “Don’t be mad cause you don’t have a woman to do this for.”
“That’s if he had the money!” Aunt Celeste clowns on him, everyone laughing as Nova smacks his lips, carrying their bags upstairs.
“Let’s go to the beach! I need to see the sun set.”
“Ooh, and to see the fine men on the beach!” Her aunt agreed with her moms statement. 
“That too,” Saanaà nods her head, Noel then saying, “You’ tryna be funny, married woman?” With a raised eyebrow.
“Oh boy, don’t start. Y’know I love you…but I also love  looking at fine men!” 
Seioni rolls her eyes with a soft laugh, then saying, “As much as I’d love to watch you two act an ass on this beach, I’m feeling a little nauseated from the plane ride,” she places her hand over her belly, feeling her feet becoming heavier as she stands. Toji immediately wraps his arm around her, steadying as he knows her feet hurt at times.
“You alright, baby?” Toji is immediately concerned, having the urge to pick her up to keep her feet off of the ground.
“Do you need us to stay with you?” Her mom asks, now becoming equally worried. 
She shakes her head, “No—actually, take Megumi with you, if that’s okay. I’d love for him to see the water. Let him spend some time with y’all, Toji can stay here and make sure I don’t roll down the stairs,” she weakly jokes, pulling her hair behind her ear tiredly.
Her mom nods her head in agreement, looking over at Toji with a curious look, “You don’t mind?” 
Toji shrugs his shoulders, “Nah. I can stay here and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself,” he half-jokes, shifting so her body can lean more so on his own.
“Okay, we’ll be back soon. Let’s go, Meggie!” Her aunt picks up the small two-year old, watching as he giggled, wrapping his arms around her neck. 
All in her plan. Once the family exits out the house, Toji looks down as he notices the grin she tries to suppress. He raises an eyebrow, realizing she had been trying to find a reason to get her family out of the house without actually having to ask.
“You’re a terrible actor,” he hums, “You just wanted me all to yourself? Selfish ass.” 
“Mhmmm,” she hums back, happy as can be, tugging him towards the master bedroom. 
It was more beautiful than she imagined. A crisp white bed next to a walk in shower, green marble in the structure of the walls. As they look out to the balcony, there’s a clawfoot tub that looks out into the beauty of the green trees, a sight that she could look at forever. 
She felt a pang in her chest as she was now alone with him, as if this wasn’t her fiancée that’d she’d been with for the past two years. He knew every part of her body, so why was she afraid to show it? 
She faced the wall of the shower as she undressed. Toji instantly notices how she refuses to look at herself, but says nothing. He didn’t wanna cause an argument— at least for now. 
The tub is now filled, flower petals drenched beneath the warm water, multicolored and ethereal to their eyes. Seioni leans against the top of the tub as she stares out at the horizon, her long bohemian braids claw clipped out of her face, skin bare of makeup as her freckles tattoo against her cheeks and nose. The sunlight beamed against her brown skin, she couldn’t look away from it. Toji was the opposite—he couldn’t look away from her. 
She continued to ramble, “So, I was thinking about baby names again. I had been looking into some Japanese names for a girl, and I saw the name Kiyomi—I thought it was so cute. It’ll fit into our little family, everyone ending in ‘I’s’. Megumi, Seioni, Toji, you get what I’m saying? And then I can give her a little nickname like ‘Omi’ cause it sounds like me! ‘Oni’! Yeah?” 
When she hears no response and realizes she might’ve been talking too much, she stops, noticing the way he leans his head slightly as he stares at her. 
She leans herself into the water as she gives a small 
smile, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
His gray eyes continued to stare at her, tracing every dip and curve of her body with his gaze as he spoke, “You’re so pretty, baby.”
She rolls her eyes, “Were you even listening?” coming closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she comes onto his lap. The warm water engulfs both of their skin.
Toji allows her to adjust herself onto his lap, his arms immediately wrapping around her waist once she is situated. He hums as he buries his face into the crook of her neck, his lips attaching to her warm throat.
“I was listening,” he murmurs, “Kiyomi is a nice name, perfect for a pretty little girl. Just like her momma.”
He continues to press kisses against her skin, teeth gently nipping at the skin of her shoulder. She sighs, feeling that she wanted to have a conversation about what was going on in her head. But she knew that Toji wouldn’t be too happy to hear the unhappiness she felt, and she didn’t want to ruin the trip. 
“You’ve been all quiet on me since we got here,” she says quietly, “I miss you. Are you feeling…overwhelmed with my family?”
He chuckles, “Nah, I’m good, Mama. I’m just a little tired. We’ve been traveling for hours and your family is on ten at all times. It’s just different.” 
He presses a gentle kiss against her exposed collarbone, “Plus, I’ve been looking forward to being alone with you.”
Her mind wracks at that. She knows they need some time together, without Megumi’s constant whining and crying, without her family regardless of this trip. She thought back to the doctor's words of intimacy, the thought feeling almost virginal to her. She felt…not like herself. She wasn’t looking for a pep talk about confidence. But this belly and the changes in her body, she wasn’t used to it. 
She pulls him closer, letting the petals flow around them within the tub as she asks, “You’d tell me if they were getting on your nerves, right?”
Toji allows her to pull him closer, his arms fully wrapping around her back as he presses a kiss against her shoulder. He chuckled softly at her question, “Your family is cool as fuck. But this conversation isn’t gonna stop you from saying what’s actually wrong with you.” 
She feels the intensity in his stare. Blowing out a breath at the question, her eyes fall back down. This was the time to be vulnerable, but as said before, she didn’t want a scolding in response. 
She shakes her head as she lies somewhat, “Just nervous about the family thing. They can be kinda…controlling?”
His eyebrows furrow, “Don’t lie to me.” 
“I’m not,” she lies again, “So you aren’t worried about getting into it with them? You have a mouth on you.”
Toji gives her a look, knowing that she was bullshitting him. There was definitely more to what she was saying than she was letting on. 
“Nope,” he responds instead, “I do have a mouth on me, but I’m a grown ass man, I know how to— what do you’ be saying? Keep it cute? I’m hip as fuck!” 
“Oh god,” she giggles, wrapping her arms tightly around him, ignoring his chuckle that buried into her shoulder blade. 
Another thought passes of wanting to be upfront with him. But the atmosphere, their moment together—it was too beautiful to ruin. She just hoped he didn’t push about it, knowing that he could read anything on her face. 
“Do you know how much I love you?” She questions, kissing his jaw, pecking his nose, even along his cheeks.
His eyes dart over her face as she begins to pepper all over his cheeks with kisses. She attempts to act cutesy in order to distract him from the question, knowing all too well that she’s doing so. She was good at it too. 
He sighs as a small smirk forms on his face, “Nah, do you know how I love you?” he responds.
“Mmm, as much as the moon loves the stars within the sky?” She cheekily responds, pressing her forehead against his, feeling his hand press gently along her stomach.
Toji chuckles and rolls his eyes at her dorky response, one of his hands gently rubbing at her stomach while the other rests on her hip. He smirks at her, “Corny ass. I love you more than that.” 
When he kisses her, it feels breathless as he holds her jaw while sucking his lips into her mouth, as if it had more meaning behind it. When he pulled back, the warmth against her face and the dumb smile along it wouldn’t falter. She loved this man. 
“Now, back to the name game. I’m thinking Toji Jr, or Megumi-Toji-Jr, or, Toji-Megumi-Jr, yeah?” 
Seioni rolls her eyes. She loves him, even if he was a damn idiot. 
As the sun sets along the island, Seioni and Toji meet the rest of her family out towards the beach, a family dinner now taking place. Her black baby tee and a long matching skirt that draped down to her ankles, orchid sandals and a matching flower along the side of her hair made her feel somewhat decent—even if she kept glancing down at her stomach— She waved excitedly as everyone cheered when they arrived, Toji holding her hand behind her to make sure she didn’t trip within the sand. 
He was like a baby, wanting to have a tantrum when she asked him to wear a Hawaiian button up, the man wanting to die before he put on patterned clothes. Instead she got him to wear a pair of black and white flowered swimming trunks, white long sleeve clinging to his broad frame—he still wasn’t entirely happy about it.
The group had set up a makeshift table on the sand, chairs and a checkered picnic blanket set out. The sun was setting, the ocean and sky turning into a blend of oranges and pinks, the scene quite breathtaking. 
The family sat around the table, eating and making small talk. Toji leaned into the seat, his body relaxed and his hand rested on Seioni’s lower back. Despite them being his soon to be in-laws, Toji found her family entertaining enough, able to keep him interested with their banter back and forth.
Hula dancers suddenly appeared as they all talked, their villa's host also appearing as he welcomed them to Maui. The family was amazed as some of the girls performed fire tricks, their hips moving in ways that were more than talented. It wasn’t too long before Megumi stood from where he sat next to Seioni and Toji and played in the sand, running up to them as he began to dance—which was jumping around in a baby’s attempts to find rhythm, giggling as the hula girls smiled at him.
The family laughed at the adorable sight before them, Toji chuckling at the little dancing Megumi, jumping around and babbling. It was extremely cute, the hula dancers all smiling and waving at the little boy. 
“Don’t think you got those moves from your non-rhythm ass daddy, huh?” Seioni’s aunt giggled. 
“Not too much! I have rhythm!” Toji defends himself, Seioni giggling beside him. 
Everyone was now up— her brother flirting his way into getting one of the Hula girls' numbers, her mom pulling her dad up to dance with her, and her aunt recording Megumi as she shouted, “Go Meg! Go Meg!” 
Seioni hadn’t felt this happy in a while. As she turned her head to kiss Toji, a hula girl came forward, pulling her up off the sand to dance with her, trying to teach her the movement of her hips. 
Seioni giggled, her cheeks warm as she followed, raising her hands above her body as she twisted her hips to follow the music that played.
Toji couldn’t help but smile at her as he watched her follow along with the hula girl. Her body moved in a fluid motion, hips twisting and swaying. Toji’s smile only grew wider, the joy and twinkle in her eyes making his heart skip in his chest. She looked so happy and so free, as if nothing in the world could get in her way. 
His eyes darkened in a different way as he watched how she looked in her tight skirt and top, the way it hugged her curves. He loved her in more ways than one, but at times it felt like he was digging his nails into the surface, trying to hold back a side of him she knew the first night she’d met him. He was becoming impatient, and he was an extremely patient man.
Seioni was now dancing with Megumi, spinning him around playfully. When her Aunt Celeste wanted the baby all to herself, Seioni brought her attention back towards Toji as she leaned down with her arms out, gesturing for him to dance with her.
Toji rolled his eyes slightly as he was pulled to his feet, his hand gripping her as their bodies pressed close together. He chuckled, wrapping one arm around her hips while his other hand gripped hers as they began to sway, his eyes gazing down at her. 
“You really just can’t get enough of me, huh, woman?”
“Never. It’s unfortunate, isn’t it?” 
She sighs, wrapping her arms around his neck, giggling as he pulls her sandals on top of his shoes, twisting her around and holding her up by them. He leans down as he brings his lips to her neck, a small gasp leaving her lips as she feels his palm slam on her ass, pulling her eyes up as she shrieks, “Fushiguro!”
“Don’t act like that. They know how you got pregnant in the first place.” 
“I’m putting a muzzle on you for the rest of the time here,” she tells him, “You’re not being good.”
His eyebrow raises, mischief glistening in his eyes as he chuckles at the threat. He leans in closer, his nose almost bumping against hers. 
“Let me start barking then.”
She rolls her eyes, leaning her face up to kiss him, “Keep talking shit, maybe I’ll put a muzzle on my mouth and you’ll be using that hand all week.”
He raises an eyebrow, “A muzzle on you, huh? That’s some freaky shit. Ooh, girl, you’re nasty.”
Seioni giggles as he fully picks her up and spins her around, kissing away their entire conversation. The family spent hours along the beach, the night nearly going into dawn when they made it back to the villa. Toji felt like he’d been hit by a train, the jet-lag and overall tiredness he felt hitting him all at once as they made their way to bed.
 Megumi was sleeping with Celeste, while Nova and her parents had their own rooms, leaving Toji and Seioni alone to themselves. His hand rubbed her stomach until she fell asleep, finally allowing his own eyes to close once he knew she was comfortable. 
…But just as he was deep within his rest, a knock came pounding at their door. It felt like he’d just closed his eyes. 
“Good morning Love Birds, we’re all going to breakfast!” 
Her mom calls through the door. When she doesn’t hear anything, she knocks again. Still silent. She then makes the decision to open the door without asking permission, walking towards the bed as she tugged at the covers along their feet.
“I know y’all hear me!”
Seioni groans softly, her eyes blinking open to see her mom standing at the end of the bed. She says to her softly, “Hi, mommy.”
As she turns, she sees Toji is also awake—practically giving her mom the death stare, his eyes only peeking above the covers, pulling Seioni closer to him. 
“The fuck?” he grumbled, still glaring.
“Toji,” she scolded softly, tapping his chest at his reaction, “We’ll be down there in a minute, mom.”
“‘The fuck I am,” he disagreed under his breath, deepening himself under the covers.
“Hurry up! I love me some French toast, it’ll be gone in seconds!”
With that, her mom slams the door, Toji almost wanting to throw something against the wall at all the loud sounds imploding his ears.
Seioni sighs, running a hand over her face as she murmurs, “What time is it?”
“Too early to be having motherfuckers slamming the door open talking about some dumb ass French toast,” Toji mutters back, immensely irritated. 
“Hey, that’s my momma you’re talking about, jackass. Tighten up,” she flicks his nose, “Why are you so grumpy? You’ literally get up at the ass crack of dawn to go to work. What’s so different now?”
“Because? I’m not at work right now?” His voice held a grumpy tone, obviously not amused by her mother’s sudden appearance. 
His eyes narrowed as he looked up at her, “How the hell can you even act so calm right now? You hate your sleep being interrupted.”
“Because we’re on vacation and should enjoy every moment we have together, Fushiguro,” she pulls his face up to meet hers, squeezing his cheeks as she says, “Lighten up, Muffin?” 
His hands reach up to take a hold of her wrists, his irritation only building, “No.” he says firmly. 
“Mean ass,” she insults, “Maybe you do need some breakfast.”
His eyes peek open at that. When he glances down at her appearance, scarf around her hair and in his jersey, the vanilla spray she spritzed on herself before they went to sleep inhaled his senses—this is when he found her most attractive. 
Maybe he did need to relax. His eyes darken as he comes closer, his lips along her neck as he sucks at the skin, coming up as he latches a kiss against her mouth. 
He grunts, “You’re right. Open your fuckin’ legs, I’m hungry.” 
Her body tenses up as he kisses her, his hand along her belly making her want to squirm. What if she wasn’t as seductive as she used to be? 
She was doing her best to keep up with him, that much he knew. He could feel it in the kisses, the way her body reacted to his touch. But she wasn’t fully giving herself to him. He wanted more from her. He needed that hunger that he knew she was holding back—He needed her to be as desperate as he was. 
He let out a low growl between their kisses, clutching her hair within his fingers as he tugged her head back, licking the skin of her throat. She whimpers softly, “Toji…”
“Quit holding back,” he murmurs against her skin. He can feel her breath hitch again, her body trembling in his grip, “Let me make you feel good.”
A soft moan comes from her lips as she grabs his hair in her fingers, head falling back as she tries to relax her body. For a moment she felt okay. But when she notices how he has to hover over her to not hit her belly, her insecurities come crumbling onto her. 
It was also right on time, another knock coming to the door as her mom calls, “I know y’all don’t want me to bust in this damn room again!” 
She stopped him. Pressing her hand against his jaw to push him back, she says softly, “Maybe we should just go get breakfast.”
Knock, knock, knock. 
His eyes narrow, irritation returning, this time for a completely different reason. This was the last thing he wanted. He was finally getting somewhere with her, she was finally letting herself go, and now they were being interrupted again. 
“Fuckin’ hell.” 
She sighs, “I don’t need the house cussing us out, everyone has to eat together in my family,” she briefly explains, “Plus…my belly is kinda…in the way…” 
She brushes her self deprecating thoughts away as she sighs, “Lets just go.” 
“‘The fuck are you talking about?”
She ignores that question. Now standing from the bed, she removes her scarf as her braids come falling around her face, edges still sculpted perfectly as she pulls on some house slippers, going to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
His eyes follow her as she stands, his mood now more than just sour. She really thinks that his thoughts have changed because of a baby bump? He loves her, and nothing about her looks or her body would ever change that. 
But just like her—he wasn’t in the mood to argue. He swings himself off the bed, running a hand through his messy black hair. His irritation grew the more he thought about her comment.
When they finally make their way into the kitchen's dining area, Seioni politely greets the workers as they place their food against the table, Toji glaring behind her as he sits, quickly greeting the family, “Morning.” 
He sees Megumi sitting at the table with Celeste, rubbing his eyes as he whines softly. When he sees Toji, he raises his arms up, the first time of him wanting his father’s attention since they’ve been here.
He looks to her aunt, “Did you wake him up?”
“We did. Eating together is tradition, that includes sleeping babies! We woke Seioni and Nova up every morning around this time to eat breakfast, tired or not. You have to get used to getting up early,” Saanaà tells him. 
“He has trouble sleeping, I don’t need him waking up if he’s finally asleep. That makes him irritated throughout the day, and he won’t stop fussing,” Toji says, voice filled with annoyance from what Seioni could read. She lightly places her hand over his.
Her touch manages to calm him down a bit, although his irritation was still there. He was just happy that at least she was calm, he didn’t want her stress levels to go up.
“He’ll be okay, nothing a pacifier can’t fix!” Her aunt then chimes in, an uncomfortable tension now in the air. 
Seioni then lightly passes, “We’re trying to get him off the pacifier, Aunt Celeste.” 
Her mom takes a fork, digging it into her toast as she shrugs, “He’s a baby. No need to do all that extra shit and go by his schedule, you’re the parent. He’s gonna cry regardless. Let him.”
Seioni presses her lips into her mouth. Here they go, she thought.
 As she went to respond to that, Toji leaned forward as Megumi still had his hands out for him, the two year old whining as he cradled into his fathers arms. He leaned his head against his shoulder with his thumb now in his mouth.
How was she going to tell him how to raise his own fucking kid? 
Seioni looks to her father and brother, knowing how her aunt and mom could be. They thankfully catch her quiet call for help as Noel says, “So, what’s the plans for today, Oni’?” 
“I was thinking me and Toji could look at some venues in Maui, I really am thinking about a wedding along the beach, as long as it isn’t too hot,” she tells them with a soft smile, clutching her fingers in Toji’s that’s under the table, feeling the tense in his body. 
“You’re doing that today?” Her aunt blinks, “Girl, we have plenty of time for that. Why don’t we go jet-skiing! Or swim with the turtles?”
“Ooh! Jet-skiing sounds nice as hell!” Her mom agrees, the both of them clinking their mimosas together.
Nova then chimes in, “Yeah, momma. That sounds cool. But you wouldn’t wanna go see some beach venues?” He tries to reel both women back in, seeing as this is what his sister wants, and Toji’s eyes narrow as they try to force their itineraries on her.
“Not really. A beach wedding is simple anyways, honey,” Seioni’s mom shakes her head, “Your father married me in a beautiful cathedral, with angels, cherubs and renaissance paintings all against the walls. You should want more than that.”
That makes Seioni blink for a moment, her hand going lax in Toji’s. She knew how her mom could be, wanting things for herself and putting them onto her daughter, she just wished this wasn’t the time she did that.
His fingers twitch under the table, his irritation only growing as the conversation continued. How could they just disregard her? Didn’t they care about what she wanted?
“Well, um—maybe you guys can just go jet-ski and me and Toji will look for venues?” She then suggests, “You can take Megumi, I’m sure he’d enjoy the water way more.”
“Girl, this is a family vacation, meaning we’re all supposed to be together. You’re coming,” her mom finalizes, her aunt then saying, “Toast to that!” The both of them once again clinking those stupid ass mimosas. They were obviously tipsy. 
Eyes fall onto Toji who then stands from the table, holding Megumi as he says, “I’m gonna go try to feed him upstairs and put him down for a nap.” 
Seioni could feel her fiancées annoyance. She could feel the frustration radiating off of him. But she knew he was trying to hold his mouth for the sake of her family. 
She gives him a weak smile as she says, “Okay,” accepting the peck of his lips against hers before he makes his way upstairs.
“Toji can be a grumpy ass man it seems,” her mom points out, not realizing how irritating she’s being. 
“It’s just hard for us to get Megumi to sleep at times, Momma. Him being woken up this early dismisses the schedule we have him on,” she tries to explain.
“He’ll be okay,” her mom waves her hand, “There’s a lot we’re going to be doing, you both just need to relax a little bit.”
"And it's not all about Megumi," her aunt adds, "You have to think about us. We want to spend time with you, too."
Her eyes narrow slightly as she tries not to get riled up, "I know…”
Her mom takes a sip of her mimosa, her voice lowering, "But just think, is your fiancée seriously gonna be happy with a beach wedding?" 
Seioni can feel her shoulders tense as her mom puts doubt into her mind. She can see what she’s trying to do—maybe it’s starting to work.
“He’s happy with whatever I want, Mom,”  she pulls a braid behind her ear, “The whole reason we came to Maui was because he knew this was one of my places I wanted to get married.”
"Really?" Her aunt's voice is a mix between disbelief and surprise. "That man is happy with whatever you want?" 
Her mom shakes her head, "You really have him whipped, huh?"
“I need to get my husband like that,” her mom then laughs loudly, her aunt then chiming in, “I need all three of my men on my knees like he is!”
“Saanaà,” Seioni’s father scolds, Nova pulling out his phone to dismiss himself from this entire conversation.
Seioni blinks back and forth between them, feeling herself becoming irritated as well. If she let them go on for too long, they started berating everyone around. It wasn’t fun. 
Seioni presses her lips into her mouth as she says, “I’m gonna go take my medicine, we can meet back down here in the next hour for jet-skiing…or swimming with the turtles, yeah?”
Her mom gives her a sly smile, taking another sip of her mimosa, "Mhm, sounds like a plan, honey. Take your meds and we'll see you soon." 
Seioni's dad places his hand on her shoulder, Nova looking up from his phone, giving her a nod, agreeing that everything would be fine. Hopefully.
She could hear her mom and aunt both say, “Beach wedding…” another laugh, another clink of those fucking mimosas. 
As she makes her way upstairs, she opens the door to see Toji sitting at the end of the bed with Megumi as he holds a bowl of eggs towards him, the tv along the wall playing a cartoon that they usually watched together. 
Toji raised the scrambled eggs in his hand as he gestured to the baby, “Eat-eat?”
Megumi stares at the bowl in front of him, his eyes wide as he glances between Toji and the eggs. There's hesitation on his expression, as if he isn't sure if he wants to eat the food or not. Then his stomach growls, and he makes a face.
“No, Eat-Eat,” he pouts, rubbing his eyes, getting eggs within his hair as his tiny fingers rub his face. 
“Eat, eat,” Toji says again, a hint of impatience in his voice. He tries to guide the spoonful of eggs closer to Megumi's mouth, but the little boy turns his head away, refusing to open.
Seioni sighs as she closes the door. Toji looks at her, watching as she crosses her arms over her chest, a blank stare in her face as she keeps her eyes against the floor. The entire tables conversation replays in her head—she felt like this trip was slowly taking a turn. 
“No hungry, Oni’,” Megumi says to her, pushing the spoon away that Toji holds to him. 
Seioni sighs, “Eat-eat, Meggie. Then, go to bed? Yeah?”
Megumi blinks again, a deeper pout coming on his olive cheeks, skin deepening in red as tears gloss his eyes. He pouts, “Paci,” his own way of trying to say Pacifier. Toji shakes his head, “Don’t want you to cry, papa. Please eat-eat.”
He sniffles, leaning forward as he opens his mouth, Toji making a blowing sound with his lips to gain his attention, pushing the spoon within his mouth as he finally accepts the eggs. He watches as Megumi then takes the small bowl he has, beginning to mush the eggs together before shoving them into his mouth, crumbs falling all along the bed.
“You’ good?” Toji then takes his attention towards Seioni. 
She presses her lips in as she nods, “Yeah. I’m fine.”
"You don't look fine," he says bluntly, his eyes lingering. He knows her better than that.
“I’m just…my mom and my aunt are just drinking too much,” she brushes off, “That’s all. I don’t want Meggie to be irritated and sleepy all day, I just…wanna go look at venues.”
"We'll go look at venues," he assures her, his voice gentle. "We can go to every fuckin’ venue on this beach, baby. Whatever you want.”
Seioni takes in another breath. She wanted this vacation to be perfect, and for everyone to be happy. She didn’t want to be a pregnant bridezilla. 
She shakes her head, giving a fake smile as she sighs, “We’ll go jet-skiing, and swim with the turtles. It’ll be fun! We can check out the venues tomorrow.”
It’s unfortunate he could see right through her. 
"You sure about that, sunshine?" he asks, his voice laced with sarcasm. "We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, and you can tell your family that. You don’t have to be scared of them.”
She glances over to Megumi who’s now laying on her side of the bed, slowly dozing off as he keeps his eyes upon the show he watches. 
She crosses her arms again as she frowns, “Who said I was scared? I’m a grown ass woman, Fushiguro.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t. But you don’t have to let them walk over you.”
“And I’m not?”
“Okay.”
“Okay, so drop it.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” 
With that, she ignores the smack on his lips, Toji standing to shower, going around her as he pulls his shirt off of his upper body. She doesn’t even jump as the door slams behind him. She keeps her arms crossed, feeling like this was their first argument since they’d been here. This wasn’t going as well as she thought it would.
The disagreement between her and Toji made her feel weird. She didn’t like fighting with him, and now silence filled the tension for the next hour as they got ready for a day at the beach. She thought about her family, her mom, her aunt, she just wished that everyone was on one accord. But more importantly, she didn’t want to be at odds with Toji. 
She watched as Megumi was now fully dressed but asleep on the bed, Toji still within the shower as she was left alone to stare at herself. She stood in a royal blue bikini top and bottom, golden seashells clasped beneath the material under her breasts. She turned to the side, seeing her belly poking out in a way that made her feel huge. She could feel her eyes watering. 
Why couldn’t she stop feeling like this? Why did she wish she was within her regular body, feeling confident and sexy? For herself? For her fiancée? For herself?
She pulled her hair behind her ear as she heard the bathroom open, now feeling Toji’s broad frame beside her, his arms coming around from behind. Her body immediately leaned back against him.
She said softly, “I feel like…I don’t belong in this bikini.”
His muscles flex as he pulls her in closer to him. He leans down, his chin resting on her shoulder as he looks at her through the mirror. 
"Why do you say that?" he asks, his voice gruff but gentle. "You look fuckin’ perfect, baby."
She keeps her eyes down, not wanting to make herself cry, “I don’t know…maybe I should put something else on.”
"You don't have to put something else on," he says, his voice low. He brings his arm around her shoulders and neck, kissing her ear as he says, “You’re the most gorgeous woman on the planet.” 
She holds onto his arm, “You have to say that. You’ll be my husband soon.” 
“And I’ll say it a million times until you know I mean everything I say. Cut that self-deprecation shit out.”
She jumps lightly as she feels his palm slam along her ass, a breathless laugh leaving her lips as she rubs the tears that are trying to form in her eyes.
“I’m okay,” she convinces herself, bringing her eyes up as she says, “You look nice.”
Toji smirks as she glances up at him through the mirror, her eyes raking over his bare chest and the towel hanging low on his hips. It’s obvious how she’s trying to change the subject, but he doesn’t mind. 
“Don’t start flirting with me now, I’ll blush like a school boy,” he teases, his eyes glimmering with mischief as he grins at her reflection.
She laughs softly, leaning her face into his arm, inhaling the scent of his cologne. She then whispers, “I don’t…I don’t like when we fight.”
“Neither do I,” he agrees, his voice quieter now. “You’re not scared of your family,” he says, repeating the point he made earlier, “But don’t let them walk all over you, yeah?”
She nods her head, tilting her head to look back at him, “You love me? You won’t throw me into the ocean with the fish?”
Toji grins down at her, his eyes sparkling as he leans his face closer to hers. “I love you, momma. More than you know,” He then chuckles lightly, pretending to ponder over her question. “I may throw you in the water later, though.”
She rolls her eyes, leaning up as she kisses him again. 
The rest of the day had gone more pleasant than either of them expected, assuming the chaos of this morning would roll over into the day. Instead, the family enjoyed their time together. They went out to the water to jet ski, Seioni’s mom and her father on one, Nova by himself, and Toji pulling a fearful Seioni on his own while Celeste and Megumi watched from the boat—Celeste taking videos, per usual. Seioni shrieked as they sped on the vehicle, holding onto him tightly as he perfectly maneuvered throughout the crisp water.
He gunned the engine, causing the jet ski to leap forward, Seioni’s screams and giggles piercing the air. Everyone cheered as they coasted along the water, exploring the sight of the island, seeing the beauty of it from this perspective. When they were back on land they tried out Hawaiian snacks, Seioni for a moment seeing her mother and Toji getting along, cracking jokes with one another in a way that made her happy. She knew him, her brother and her father would immediately click. But to see Toji become close with her mom and aunt, it made her feel warm.
As the sun began to set and the sky turned brilliant hues of orange, pink, and gold, Seioni's family gathered for a barbecue dinner on the beach. They had cooked burgers and hot dogs on grills and set out side dishes and beverages on a long table. Toji sat next to Seioni, one arm around her chair as they all enjoyed the meal together.
In the soft flickering light of the torches and the glow of the sunset, Seioni found herself feeling a sense of peace and contentment that she hadn't expected to feel on this vacation.
They laid out along the sand as they were in a vicious game of Uno, her aunt and mom on their third fruity drinks, giggling as they talked shit to each other. 
Seioni rolled her eyes as she put down her card, “The color is…red!”
Toji laughed as Seioni declared the color, her aunt and mom groaning with frustration. The game had been going on for a while now, with all of them getting progressively more competitive as the drinks continued to flow. 
"You guys need to pay attention," Seioni teased, unable to contain her smirk as she watched her mom and aunt pout. Saanaà rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink as she said, "We're trying."
Her aunt chimed in with a scoff, "Yeah. It's not our fault that the colors are confusing, especially at night."
Toji chimed in, his voice laced with amusement, "Or maybe y’all are just tipsy as hell.”
“Red looks orange to me!” Celeste shook her head, Nova saying, “Orange isn’t even a color!”
The group burst out laughing at that. As they continued to place their cards down, Megumi sat beside Toji, playing in the sand. He stood on his small feet to get a better leverage on the castle Toji had helped him make earlier, but as he leaned against the sand, he began tugging at the shorts he wore, reaching for his diaper.
Seioni notices him tugging at his bottoms, calling him as she asks, “Meggie, go potty?”
He looked at her, nodding vigorously, “Potty.” 
He attempted to get up, but his small feet immediately sank back into the sand, causing him to lose his balance and stumble back down. Toji chuckled, reaching out to scoop him into his arms as he swiftly tugged his diaper open, catching a waft of stench in the baby’s pants. 
“Fuckin’ hell, Meg. Why didn’t you say potty? You don’t want to get a rash,” he talks more to himself, knowing Megumi couldn’t actually respond. Megumi babbles, wrapping his arms around Toji’s neck to hide himself, always becoming shy when he had an accident, knowing they’d been trying to get him on the toilet. 
“That’s because he can barely speak to say he needs to shit. Maybe y’all should’ve taught him that,” Seioni’s mom says, and it almost feels like an insult. With the way everyone went quiet,  it probably was. 
“Mom,” Seioni warns, “He’s two. He’s not gonna speak like the rest of us. He makes gestures when he needs something.” 
“Oh don’t give me that age bullshit, you and Nova knew how to speak perfectly at two. Knew colors. Even could count to fifty. It’s about the parent, and their lack of teaching to their child.”
Toji narrows his eyes, letting his mouth draw first as he questions, “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 
“Toji,” Seioni scolds.
“My kid is doing perfectly fuckin’ fine, last time I checked,” Toji sharply replies, “We’re good as fuck over here.”
"The toilet exists yet he still shits himself!" Her mom retorts back, and Toji has to bite his tongue, holding back the urge to curse this woman out. 
“Just say he isn’t fully developed. You don’t have to give excuses, we can teach him something you might not be able to,” Saanaà finalizes, taking another sip of her wine cooler. 
Luckily, Seioni’s dad interrupts the growing tension—before Toji can rip this woman’s head off—his gentle voice trying to diffuse the situation. "Hey, hey. Let's not start fighting. Meggie's just fine.”
Seioni then agrees with a frown, “He’s doing just fine for his age. You’re tipsy.”
“Don’t tell me what the fuck I am, little girl! I’m a grown ass woman, I can drink when I wanna drink!”
“Don’t think ‘cause you got a lil’ family you can start talking to us crazy!” Her aunt pipes in. 
Seioni presses her lips together, watching as Toji then stands from his spot, taking Megumi as they begin making their way back towards the villa. He was upset with her for not only saying anything back to her family, but not defending him, knowing if he defended himself it would cause problems.
Her brother helps her stand from her spot before she follows Toji back into the villa, making her way upstairs as she finds him changing Megumi’s diaper. 
“Baby—“
“Nah. Don’t do that, Seioni. You know that shit was disrespectful as fuck.”
“I know that,” she says back, stepping farther into the door.
“You just sat there and let them say that about Megumi? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Seioni’s eyebrows lower, “‘The fuck do you mean by that? I can’t control my mom’s mouth, nor my aunts. I didn’t expect them to say any of that, Fushiguro.”
“It ain’t ‘bout your mom,” Toji snaps, his jaw clenching as his tone gets louder. He hates how she’s now addressing him by his last name, and with an annoyed grunt, he adds, “You could’ve at least said something about it. Defend us. Me. Something.”  
“You’re a grown ass man, Fushiguro. You could’ve told them something, you didn’t seem too afraid to start snapping up on my mom the minute she started talking about Megumi. Let’s talk about your disrespectful, big headed ass!” She insults, coming closer to him, her head tilting up as he towers over her frame.
Toji scoffs, the corner of his lip lifting up in a sneer. “My disrespectful, big headed ass? My disrespectful ass??”
“How about your disrespectful ass not saying anything when your mom insults our family. That’s what has me pissed. You didn’t stick up for your own motherfuckin’ so-called husband.” 
They’re going back and forth, not realizing that the rest of the family has entered the house. Her aunt and mother are too in their own world to hear the argument, her father trying to sober them up as her brother overhears. 
Nova quickly comes upstairs as he then says, “Hey, uh—I can take Megumi downstairs, I’m gonna make some smoothies, I think he’ll like it?” Trying to make sure the baby wasn’t within the room for their argument.
Toji’s eyes dart towards her brother as he appears, watching as he extends his hands towards Meg, reaching to pick him up. Toji nods and hands the child gently over to him, watching as he leaves the room. 
When he’s out of sight, Toji’s attention turns back to Seioni, focusing his scowl back on her. His face is stern, his hand running through his hair as he speaks, his voice quieter. 
“You should’ve said something. Anything, Seioni.” 
“So all of this is my fault? Let’s not act like you don’t have a fuckin’ mouth on you that I have to constantly put on a leash. What she said was wrong, but to point fingers at me? Fuck that, and fuck you!”
Those words hit right where he didn’t want them to, and a bitter laugh leaves his lips as he shakes his head. 
“This is what the fuck I was talking about. I’ve been so patient with your family. Your mom. Your aunt. Waking me up early as fuck as if I’ve slept, letting them walk all over you and tell you what to do as if you aren’t a grown ass woman. My fuckin’ woman. And now, telling me how to raise my kid? I’ve really been sparing your ass on the civil fact that I don’t want to get into it with your people. I love you too much to do that.”
“Oh, I’m supposed to be thankful on account of that? For not cussing out my mom and aunt? Man of the fuckin’ year, aren’t you?” She tilts her head, her body practically fuming as she becomes more pissed off, “You’re right. They’re a pain in the ass, I know that. You’re smart as fuck to not fix your mouth to say some slick shit to my momma. But instead of taking your lashings out on me, be a man and tell them that yourself! You can use your words without talking out of your neck, Fushiguro!” 
“I am a fuckin’ man!” He shouts, “A man wouldn’t talk out the side of his neck to your family! I’m trying not to act an ass, but you’re taking me there. They’re taking me there. Stop talking to me like I’m stupid as fuck, Seioni.” 
Seioni nearly flinches back at his tone, the anger seeping between them implausible. It's evident he’d been feeling like this for a while, and the reaction was worse than she wanted it to be. When she goes to open her mouth, it’s cut off by the sudden sound of screaming coming from downstairs—they belonged to Megumi. 
The both of them take off without question. When they take sight of the living room, they see Megumi standing in the middle of the marble, holding his arm that’s welted red.
“What happened?” Toji snarls, Seioni immediately picking him up, her heart beating as she says, “What happened to your arm?”
“I looked away for two seconds and his little bad ass put one of his toys in the toilet, and now it’s overflowed!” Her aunt shouts, the look on her brother and father’s face full of shock.
“Did you hit him?” Seioni’s eyes go wide, Megumi’s heavy crying filling her ear as he leans into her chest.
Toji thought he was going to have to kill someone. He saw red, only focused on the welt within his child’s arm. He looks to her mom as he squints, “Have you lost your fuckin’ mind? Why would you hit him? My fuckin’ child? Are you fuckin’ stupid?”
“He needs to learn! Y’all don’t seem to be teaching him shit! putting goddamn toys in the toilet—“
“That's for me to teach him!” Toji yells, deep voice having the entire villa shake, “You don’t get to tell me what the fuck to do about my kid! You and your insolent ass sister have too much liquor in your fuckin’ systems to have some sense!” 
“Aye, watch your fuckin’ mouth when you’re talking to my mom,” Nova warns, Seioni’s brother now glaring at Toji.
Toji was done.
“Or what, huh? ‘The fuck are you gonna do?” Toji’s fists clenched, his muscles becoming tense as he looked at Nova. “You wanna throw hands over your mom, you go right ahead. I’ll make you swallow your motherfuckin’ teeth.” 
Chaos ensues at this point. Megumi was still crying, Seioni tries to hold back Toji who lunges at Nova, and Seioni’s father holds back Nova who cusses out Toji right behind her mom and aunt that do the same. She feels overwhelmed, her worst fears coming to life—her entire family was falling apart. It gets so bad that the villa’s host had heard them from his part of the house, coming in and taking hold of Megumi who nearly falls in Seioni’s arms from tugging at Toji. 
“Stop it!” 
Her voice screams out, gripping Toji fully, tears masking in her vision, her cries catching the attention of the entire family—they’d never heard her raise her voice like that.
They all go silent, even Toji, who is breathing heavily. They all look at Seioni, and Toji is just surprised to be witnessing her on the verge of tears. She’d never looked so distraught. 
The room is filled with silence before her voice speaks up again, this time much less aggressive, much more vulnerable, almost like she was begging to be heard.
“This trip was supposed to be about me. I’ve been all over the place with this pregnancy, and the one thing I wanted was the support of all of you, and to enjoy my time here with my family, and yours all about to fuckin’ kill each other!” 
She raises her voice again, the entire room flinching, shocked to see her like this. She places her hand over her face as she sobs, trying to calm herself as she begins hyperventilating, “I didn’t…I didn’t even get to see one venue…”
The sight of her crying like this makes Toji’s heart want to drop. He frowns, becoming more pissed off at how upset they’ve all made her.
“Baby—“
“No, Fushiguro. Everything’s just…fucking ruined…” she continues to cry, high pitched as she gasps to try to control her breathing.
Toji swallows the lump in his throat, his chest feeling heavy as she speaks. She’s right, this was supposed to be about her, a time for her to get away from all the stress of pregnancy and relax. But instead, they all got wrapped up in their own emotions. 
Everyone feels a pang of guilt. The silence is heavy as Megumi blinks within the hosts’ arms, seeing Seioni’s tears, trying to understand her emotions. 
“Oni’, sad?”
She hears the small voice, her focus now going back to him. He shouldn’t have had to see the bullshit of this situation. 
With that, she politely takes him into her arms, cradling him as she begins making her way out of the villa. Toji’s deep voice calls for her, “Seioni—Seioni!”  going to go after her when her father then says, “Just let her go, Toji. She’ll be fine. She just needs time.”
Toji grinds his teeth at those words, wanting to go after her. He hates leaving her alone when she’s upset, but her father was right. She just needed some time. But that didn’t make leaving any easier. 
He sighs, running his hand through his hair as he closes his eyes, his jaw clenching as he looks back at her family. Nova looks upset, her mom and aunt looking somewhat guilty. No one dared to speak after their outburst, so the living room remained tense.
Seioni makes her way out onto the beach, going farther than she planned for herself to. She walked for what felt like almost twenty minutes, finding a small patch of rocks, a seating area with flowers surrounding it. She sees from afar as children play by the water, placing Megumi beside her as she clumps the sand up for his attention, just needing the comfort of him knowing he wouldn’t have much to say. She then sighs, watching as the sun sets, placing her hands over her belly, rubbing gently. 
“You’re causing havoc before you even get here, Y’know that?” She looks down to her stomach.
The evening wind blows as the sun slowly falls, washing over Seioni’s face, which is puffy and red from her previous tears. As she sits on the little rock, she speaks to her belly, the sound of her baby’s heartbeat filling her ears as she touches her stomach. She finds herself surrounded by tranquility, the soft waves of the water and the laughter of children bringing her comfort.
She then looks at Megumi, leaning her hand out as he wraps his small fingers around her index. She says softly to him, “Oni’ love Megumi. And Papa.”
Megumi takes hold of her finger, his tiny hand around her index. His large round eyes look up at her, a look of curiosity within his gaze. His little nose scrunches as he tries to say something back, but nothing comes out aside from a few babbles, making his little pink lips pursed together.
She giggles, opening her palm as he pats his hand against hers a couple of times, blowing raspberries into his other hand. All of her guilt hits her, despite everyone being the cause of their own issues. She wished her mom and aunt hadn’t been so rude at times, she wishes Toji wasn’t so easy to anger, but she also wishes that she had stood up for him, for Megumi. She loved them both so much, and this was now her family as well. With that, she decides to sit in silence with Megumi, watching as the sun goes down.
                        ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆
A COUPLE HOURS HAD PASSED, and the family was becoming more nervous. When they realized that Seioni wasn’t anywhere near the villa, they also found out she didn’t have her phone. They sent the host to go look for her, Toji nearly about to have a nervous breakdown as he thought the worse.
“I’m sure she’s fine, Toji,” Noel tells him, trying to get him to relax.
“She doesn’t have her phone, and she’s on an island she’s never been to. Pregnant. With fuckin’ Megumi,” he’s angry, he’s unsure why, he just wants to see her. Make sure she’s okay. Was she lost?
“Talking to her while she’s still upset won’t do anything but make shit worse,” he reminds.
Her mother and aunt sit along the couch, now drinking water instead of their usual mimosa or wine cooler. They both feel bad about the way they’ve been speaking to Seioni and her fiancè. 
Her aunt sighs, “Look—we’re so sorry, Toji. Everything that happened was just—wrong. Our control issues, hitting Megumi, trying to tell you what to do—You’re a good father, and will be an amazing husband.”
Her mom then nods her head, “She’s right. We’re happy to have you in our family, Toji. We’re so sorry about everything that’s happened.”
Toji exhales deeply, the words from her mother and aunt bringing him a sense of comfort, though he's still anxious as to when she'd return. He glances out the windows, the sun fully falling now in the distance. 
"We can talk about this later, but I appreciate it. I just wanna make sure my wife is okay.”
“We’ cool too, right? I only was about to fight cause you were talking crazy to my momma, although it was fair. She get on my damn nerves too, you’re cool as fuck, though,” Nova finds his way of apologizing, his mom smacking the back of his head for his words.
Toji lets out a gruff sigh and turns to Nova, giving him a small nod. He didn't blame the guy for being protective, he probably would've done the same thing. His words get a small laugh from him. 
"We’re good. You were trying to look out for your mom. I can't blame you for that.“
Tension comes off of everyone, and the room feels lighter. But one thing remained the same—Seioni was still missing. 
Another hour and a half passed, and Toji was now frustrated, still worried, but even more irritated. She entered back into the villa without saying anything, holding Megumi’s hand as she let him walk.  
The minute she closed the door, Toji was the first one to speak up, “And where the fuck have you been?”
He couldn’t help it. He didn’t mean to be harsh, but he missed her greatly. He was scared shitless for anything to happen to her. 
Seioni lets go of Megumi, crossing her arms over her chest as she looks at Toji, not replying to his aggression. 
Her mom takes that notion as she stands, “How about we all go take a walk on the beach and let these two talk, hm?”
Nova swoops Megumi into his arms, everyone practically flying out of the house—including the host—closing the door behind themselves. Seioni then begins making her way upstairs, Toji nearly breaking his neck as he watches her walk away from him, saying nothing. He of course follows behind her.
“So I’m not talking right now? ‘The fuck am I being ignored for?”
“I’m fine, Toji. Okay? I’m fine, you see? I’m here,” she clarifies, “I just needed space.”
"You've been gone for damn near three hours. Excuse me for being worried.” He snaps back, his worry slowly becoming anger. He steps closer towards her, his voice still low. 
“What if something happened? You didn’t have your phone, alone on an fuckin’ island—“
Her usual response would’ve been to snap back at him. But she can see the tense in his shoulders, the drain in his face. She comes forward, bringing her hands to his face as she pulls him down, “Hey,” she says softly, “I’m fine, Fushiguro.” 
She knows he’s not angry at her— he was terrified—and didn’t know how to show it. She can feel him nearly shaking, wrapping her arms around his neck as she inhales his scent.
 She says quietly, “I missed you too.”
When she grabs his face, he almost flinches, not anticipating the action. But as soon as she speaks, his shoulders slightly relax. 
He feels her arms around his neck, and his arms instinctively go to her waist, his hands grabbing her hips as he tugs her body against his. He buries his face into her neck, breathing her in as he feels himself shake. His voice is hoarse as he talks, not pulling away from her just yet. 
“I was scared as hell.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, “I just…needed time to think.” 
Her tone makes him replay everything that’s happened on this trip, and he feels guilty, wishing he would’ve been more upfront about his feelings, wishing it hadn’t gotten this far.
“I’m sorry too,” he says, his voice quiet. His hands tighten around her hips as he moves his face close to hers. “I should’ve been honest.”
She then pulls him back down, clutching him as if she feels like he would pull away at any second. She muffles into his shirt, “You’re a great dad—please know that. You’ll be an equally amazing husband, baby.”
He closes his eyes and buries his face back into her neck, his chest rising and falling as he tries to slow his racing heart. Her words bring comfort to him, and they make him feel better, but he can’t stop feeling guilty about what’s happened. 
“I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much,” he grunts into her neck.
“I love you too,” she says softly, “I’m sorry I’ve also been…distant. I’m just—I’m not used to this whole pregnancy thing. I feel like…I’m not as attractive as I used to be.”
He listens intently as she speaks, feeling her breath against his neck. He pulls back to look at her, seeing the look of vulnerability across her features. It makes his chest clench tighter, seeing the insecurity in her eyes. 
“You are,” he says, his voice firm yet soft, “You’re sexy as hell, baby. You couldn’t change that even if you wanted to.” He gently touches her face, his eyes staring into hers.
Here go those tears she’d been trying to hold. Seioni gives a weak laugh as she quickly tries to wipe face, Toji brushing her cheek as he drags his hands down to her throat, clutching her forward, his eyes growing dark as he can feel she doesn’t believe his words.  
He grunts, “C’mere,” clutching her lips under his mouth. The aggression makes Seioni’s breath hitch, her tears spraying along her cheeks as she feels his body radiating a feeling she hadn’t endured in a while—lust. And he had been so patient with her.
“Toji—“
 Her voice is of a desperation he hadn’t heard in a while, her legs feeling weak as his lips are against her neck, quipping a match along her skin, blazing a fire within him. God, he’s missed the sound of her.
The way his body heats up as he kisses her, he can’t help but feel overwhelmed with desire, and it only gets worse the more tears fall down her cheeks. He has to show her what she means to him. 
She squeals lightly as he effortlessly wraps her legs around his hips, carrying her over towards the bed. Her eyes stare right across from the large mirror within their room. Her reflection. A heart beat thumps in Seioni’s chest as he raises her legs over his shoulders, dropping down onto his knees, ache, hunger within his eyes as hers are closed. 
“Keep your fuckin’ eyes open. Look at me.”
Her gasp could’ve shaken the house. He shoved her dress back, his tongue instantly dragging up her core, moaning against her like she was a desert he hadn’t tasted in a while. 
“Been wanting your pussy in my mouth since we got here, Baby. Fuck.” 
Seioni legs tremble to where she couldn’t control them, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she gripped his hair, kneeling back as her chest faltered. His head bobs up and down, slurping against her pussy in a way that makes a loud sound against the room. Her body quivers as she whimpers, “O—Oh—f—fuck, baby.”
Toji growls against her, the vibrations sending shudders through her body. His hands move to grip her thighs, holding her in place as he continues to devour her. He pulls back momentarily, panting heavily as he looks up at her. "You're so fuckin’ wet," he groans, his fingers tracing circles on her inner thigh. “I missed the taste of you." 
Seioni’s body buzzes as his head quickly dips back down between her legs, his tongue delving inside of her once again. He uses one hand to spread her opening wider, allowing his tongue to explore every inch of her. He licks and sucks at her clit, nipping lightly at the sensitive flesh before moving lower to lap at her entrance.
She feels flustered, her face warm as she looks at herself within the mirror. Her large belly, her flushed cheeks. She closes her eyes again. Her heart skips a beat when she feels one of his hands snake up through her body, pulling her face right to the mirror across from them, spreading her legs wider. 
His free hand reaches around to cup one of her breasts, thumb rubbing over her nipple through the fabric of her dress. He leans in, his breath hot against her ear as he whispers, "So beautiful... I want to fuck you everywhere..."
Her breath hitches in response, “Baby, I…” 
“That’s not my name,” Toji grunts, bringing his face back down, sucking her clit into his mouth, groaning as he shakes his head from side to side, digging his lips deeper against her arousal that begins collecting against his jaw. 
He holds her leg up by the ankles now, “Look at me eating your pussy, fuckin’ love every second of it. You taste like heaven. Can’t fuckin’ get enough of you.” 
She nearly throws her hands over her face, the warmth going into pure heat as she whimpers, “Stop it, Fushiguro,” shuddering as he deeply kisses her core, dragging his tongue down to her opening. 
“Shut the fuck up. Gonna put my tongue in you so deep, baby. Wanna see you squirt on my face. I miss that shit.”
She gasps, placing her hands back in his hair as he does exactly what he promised, spitting against her core before he takes it back into his mouth. He then pulls back, sticking his tongue out as he pushes it into her opening, listening to it squelch. He moans right when she moans, spreading her legs wider, rolling his jaw forward as he fucks his mouth deeper into her.
Toji continues to feast on Seioni's wet folds. He can't get enough of her taste, his tip throbbing painfully against his pants. The sounds she makes only serve to spur him on, driving him wild with lust. He feels her grip his hair tightly, her hips bucking against his face as she tries to chase her release.
He pulls back momentarily, panting heavily as he stares up at her. His eyes are glazed with desire, his lips glistening with her juices. He grins wickedly as he sees the desperation in her eyes, his own need mirrored there. "Not gonna stop until you cum all over my face," he growls, diving back in with renewed vigor.
The feeling is all too intense for her, body shaking as she messily groans, “Mmm—f—fuck,” it transferring out into a gasp and whine, her lower body relaxing as she cums  into his mouth, not giving her enough time to enjoy the feeling of him eating at her. The reaction makes him arrogantly chuckle, her body jumping more as he spanks her in response, “Ooh, that’s fuckin’ good baby. You’re sensitive. You’re gonna cum on my dick just like that.”
She feels like she could black out at any moment, holding onto him for dear life as he brings his attention back up to her clit. He then takes two of his fingers, sliding them deep into her. Her pussy pushes out air as a reaction, her head falling back as she whines in response, staring down as she whimpers, “Fushiguro…”
"So fuckin’ tight," he groans, his free hand reaching down to unzip his pants. His tip springs free, already leaking pre-cum, needing her.
“Fingers feel too big,” she whimpers, the longing of anything inside her making her feel a pinch at just his fingers—she wasn’t sure what she could handle. 
“I’m gonna stretch your shit out, give you the dick you’ve been crying for,” he grunts, his fingers slamming into her, sloshing against her walls, erogenous and fluttering around his palm. 
“Missed your fuckin’ pussy, baby,” he leans down, giving a gentle kiss on her thigh, “You’ missed me?” 
Seioni let out a deep breath, nodding her head as she whimpered out, “Missed you so much, baby.”
His eyes go dark, reminding her, “That’s not my name. You’ know my fuckin’ name. Say that shit.”
She felt herself falling apart already, her mind and body feeling fuzzy as she spreads her legs wider, “Keep eating my pussy,” she begs to him, another spank palming along the back of her thigh.
His eyes came up, “You’re begging me now?” 
She nods her head, “Want it so bad,” she whimpers. 
“No you don’t. Keep fuckin’ begging.”
She holds him by his hair, grinding her pussy against his face, sucking air into her mouth as his tongue delves in and out of her, the spread of her legs feeling so good. She felt like an addict, suddenly needing more from him.
His smirk grows wider at her response, his fingers digging into her thighs as he keeps going. His tongue swirls around her clit before sucking it into his mouth, humming in delight at the taste of her.
“N—Need more of you so fuckin’ bad, baby. Please…” she begs, bringing her hands to where her legs are, holding them up herself.
 It makes him chuckle, “You’re fuckin’ nasty, baby,” grunting, spanking her in repetitions. 
When he comes up, her arms feel numb as she tries to grip onto him, his tongue sliding into her mouth as he huffs to her, “Taste yourself,” gripping her throat.
He can feel her shaking, her body trembling. It had been a while since she felt this good, a slight pressure releasing, but not fully. As he stands, he clutches her by her hair, pulling her to where she gets on her knees, dragging her back towards the edge of the bed as he says, “You know how I want you—get on all fours.”
She complies, almost missing this side of him, the primal, animalistic side he tried to hold back with her pregnancy. She obliges, pressing her palms and knees against the bed, arching herself to the best of her ability. Her cheeks feel warm as she’s still looking directly at herself. 
He briefly pauses his dominant gestures as he asks, “You’ okay, baby? Need a pillow so you’re comfortable?”
She blinks, then nods her head. That didn’t feel like enough to him. 
“Use your fuckin’ words,” he commands with a grip to her hair, his palm lightly patting against her face. She nods, becoming more aroused as she says softly, “Yes, please. Thank you, Daddy.”
It’s all he’d been looking for. 
He takes a pillow as he places it under her belly, giving her another soft kiss, then making her entire body jump as he spanks her with his palm. She watches as he removes his shirt, her mouth practically watering at the sight of him. She places her hands along his hard stomach, running her fingers down as she moans, “Missed you so-so much, baby.”
She’s tugging at his pants, unable to help herself as she’s pulling his dick from beneath his boxers, already wrapping her lips around his tip. Her eyes are feline, mischievous as she wraps her fingers around the base of him, bobbing her head as she begins to seductively suck.
She sticks her tongue out, slapping it along her taste buds that makes him smirk down, tugging her hair as he gently smacks his hand along her face, “Missed my dick like that, huh?” 
She nods her head, the shyness she had before trying to break its walls down. He groans as she pulls her head forward, shoving his dick into the back of her throat, filling her entire mouth as her eyes roll to the back of her head, jaw lax as she chokes. It makes his head tilt back, gritting his teeth as he reaches forward, slamming his palm against her ass.
She pulls him out of her mouth as she rotates her hand against his tip, “Want you to fuck me from behind, please.”
In a way, he feels evil. Purposely wanting her in front of the mirror—he loved watching her, and he loved to make her watch herself. 
He’s now behind her, making sure the pillow is directly beneath her stomach, pressing kisses along her neck, clutching her throat from behind. He then pulls himself up, his broad frame large above hers, eyes dark as he watches her face. 
Seioni’s hips jerk as she feels his tip in between her folds, swollen and calling to pull him in. 
They both listen to themselves, a tight clutch returning  in the mess of her hair as he slowly and agonizingly pushes into her. Her eyes fall close, her fingers gripping the sheets beneath her. She digs her teeth into her lip, desperately trying to hold back the music that wants to spill from her mouth. But as he wraps his fingers around her throat from behind, mouth by her ear as he says, “Wanna feel just how much you miss me,” rolling his hips deeper into her, Seioni’s eyes roll to the back of her head, a whine shivering from her lips as she cums again, gushing out after several seconds. 
His fingers somehow slide into her mouth as she loses her mind, moaning incoherently as she pants against his palm, eyes striking back to the mirror. Toji groans against her throat, sultrily laughing as he begins dragging her back onto him, grinding his hips forward, listening to their skin clap together. 
“Shit,” baby,” she moans onto his fingers, Toji against her ear as he grunts, “Yeah? This all you wanted?” 
He clutches her mouth, the bite of her teeth is the grip he has on her, Seioni only able to hear the way their skin latches onto one another before letting go, wanting to hear it again, again, and again. 
“Fuck, Daddy,” she whines, unable to hold her mouth back, feeling like she was about to spiral.
Her body felt on overdrive, it being so long since she felt this type of pleasure. Her eyes watch them within the mirror, Toji’s broad frame practically shadowing hers, tugging her back onto his abdomen, the sound within the room too filthy to listen to. 
She turns her head slightly, her eyes looking up to his as she trembles, “Missed you…missed you inside me…”
Toji growls, "You don't need to miss anything, baby." He rolls his hips, pushing his length deeper into her warmth. "Just let me take care of you.”
She then whimpered softly, “…Feeling a little uncomfortable though, baby,” the position making her back begin to ache from the arch of it, an unfortunate case from her pregnancy. 
He obviously didn’t want to hurt her, taking the pillow and laying it horizontally, positioning her body to where she now lays on her side against the bed. He positions himself behind her as he holds one of her legs upwards, making sure the both of them are still reflected into the mirror.
His hand rubs over her stomach affectionately, positioning his tip between her folds from behind, his palm coming between her legs. He then lifts her outer leg, finding her clit and rubbing gently as he asks, “Feel good, baby? Need to stop?” All while peppering kisses against her neck. She grabs his hair from behind, moaning softly as she nods her head, “I’m okay…Keep going, please.”
He groans deeply as he thrusts into her, his hand reaching around to cup her breasts. He continues to move in and out of her, his thrusts deep and powerful, lips attaching to her ear, the feeling making her shiver. When his hand clasps back around for her throat,her eyes appear back open, seeing the sight in front of her. His broad frame captures from behind, holding her leg with one hand, clasping her throat with the other, eyes dark and hooded, grunting within her ear. She realizes just how much this man found her attractive, and it made her more horny. He loved her.
“Look at you,” he talks within her ear, holding her down as he snaps his hips, “So fuckin’ pretty, so fuckin’ needy for me. Missed you…so fuckin’ much baby…” he grunts out the last words, it slipping into a moan, Seioni turning her head, sticking her tongue out in a way of asking for a kiss.
He leans down, capturing her lips in a rough, passionate kiss. His free hand reaches up to grip her hair, pulling it slightly as he pushes his dick deeper inside of her.
When her eyes fall down to the bed, Toji grips her face, pointing her directly at the mirror as he says, “Fuckin’ gorgeous. Gonna have all my kids, my fuckin’ wife.” ” 
His voice makes something within her feel emotional. All of her insecurities melted into her brain, her eyes feeling like they were close to filling with tears as she moaned within his mouth, clutching his face in her hands as she whimpered, attempting not to allow herself to cry. 
“Don’t cry, baby. You’re too pretty for that,” he grunts, yanking her hips back, “Cry cause’ I’m fuckin’ you so good.” 
She whimpers again, “You’re just saying all that ‘cause you love me.”
He chuckles, "Maybe." He continues thrusting into her, his pace unrelenting. His hand leaves her hip, moving down to her clit where he begins rubbing circles around it. "But mostly 'cause you're driving me fuckin’ crazy," he growls, nipping at her earlobe.
She twists her head, raising her face to meet his mouth as she trembles, “L—Love you so much…”
“Only other times you’re sweet and shit,” he says against her ear, listening to the way she trembles out another gasp, “Is when you’re about to cum.”
He takes one hand as he places it along her shoulder, the other on her hip, eyes dropping down to watch the way her ass bounces onto his abdomen, leaving a collection of arousal each time he digs deeper into her.
 He groans, feeling his own orgasm approach rapidly. He lifts her off his dick momentarily, lining himself up before slamming into her harder.
It makes her gasp deeply, her legs quivering to where she tries to press her palm onto her thigh to stop the shaking, feeling a hand grab hers, holding it up to her throat and trapping it along his palm as he fucked her even harder. 
His lips are against her ear, heavily breathing, his own stomach forming butterflies. He tries to suppress the low moan that drops from his mouth as he talks, “All that creaming on my dick, need you to cum.” 
Her voice is gone, eyes flutter shut as she can’t stop hyperventilating, talking through her gasps, “Gonna’ cum, Daddy…”
He snarls, his grip on her wrist tightening. "Then fuckin’ cum on me, Mama," he orders, his thrusts becoming brutal, “Would give you another fuckin’ baby if I could. Pussy is…” he grunts, a sound she hadn’t expected coming from him, a whimper as his eyes tightly shut, “So fuckin’ good, baby. Fuck. I love you.”
That sound sends her over the edge. Her entire body halts as she goes quiet, hearing the sound of herself gushing out, orgasm taking over her entire frame as she hides her face within the sheet, sobbing as he continues slamming her ass down onto his hips. The hand still on her neck drags up to her jaw, forcing her eyes back to the mirror again. 
“Fuckin’ love looking at you…” he pants, “All mine. Gonna be all mine, can’t fuckin’…” he whimpers again, “Can’t wait, baby.” 
He then turns her head, swallowing her sobs as he thrusts harder, clutching her face as he moans into her mouth, it was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. A warmth fills her, their breaths collected together as they pant heavily.
She could still feel Toji’s hand upon her face, dragging his thumb against her jaw, taking in the way she looked at the moment. Vulnerable—connected to him. 
“You’re gonna be an amazing mother, baby.” 
Her eyes come open as she hears that, blinking at his words. It felt meaningful to her, she couldn’t have asked for a better partner. She takes his hand as she kisses it, turning over as she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
As they laid in each other’s embrace, the soft sounds of their breathing filling the air, Toji’s fingers danced along her body. He traced every curve and line, committing every inch of her to memory. He couldn’t help but feel grateful for her to be in his arms. The woman of his dreams was in front of him, in his arms, with their child growing in her womb. 
The moment wasn’t ruined— but felt to be cut short as it sounded like the door opening to the villa. They heard the voice of her brother call, “Aye! Scream if y’all in here fuckin’!”
They then heard the sound of a smack—Nova getting palmed in the back of his head by her mom— as she says, “Shut up! Just cause you can’t get none doesn’t mean they can’t!—but if y’all are in here having sex, have some decorum! There’s a baby in the house!”
Toji grins into Seion’s neck as he hears her mother smack her brother. He presses a gentle kiss into her throat as he chuckles, “There goes your loud ass family.”
“Unfortunately,” she sighs, accepting the kiss, “We should get dressed, I’m starving.” 
“When are you not hungry, Pac-Man?” 
“Oh?” she blinks, “That was a fat joke. I’m gone!”
She holds her belly as she begins coming off of the bed, Toji trying to hold back his laugh as she’s waddling around, searching for the dress she previously wore. 
“You’ laughing? This shit is funny?”
“Nope,” he raises his hands up, “You’ mad? Don’t love me no more? You were just calling me by my second na—“
“Fushiguro!” 
“Why are we going downstairs? We can always stay up here and discuss why I think this baby should be named Toji-Seioni-Megumi-Jr?” 
“I’m never speaking to you again.”
“That’s cool. We got time.”
Seioni groans as she continues waddling for the bathroom, throwing her middle finger up as he sarcastically blows a kiss at her. She was annoyed within the moment, but one thing she could agree to—they had time. An eternity of it.
1K notes · View notes
jensthwa · 7 months ago
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show & tell pt. 2 (SMG x reader).
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part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.
SUMMARY:
After the… masterclass you gave Mingi the night before, you’re left anxious on what the future holds for you both. But there’s a pool party you promised you would attend and there’s not really time for you to figure your feelings out before your best friend shows up at your door to drive you to it. So maybe today is not the day to figure your feelings out, right? It’s just a pool party anyways, so nothing out of the ordinary is going to happen… right?
PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.
GENRE: childhood best friends (idiots) to lovers.
WORD COUNT: 11k.
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) anxiety attack, attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit part two ft jongho, a new oc being the voice of reason, reader is clueless and in denial i fear, jealousy, miscommunication, fighting so this part is just a tiny bit angsty :(, confessions, teasing, face sitting, hand job, car sex (don't do it in public people, it can get you arrested), pet names (love and baby), a plot line at the end none of you guys are going to get until my new wip drops but it's worth the wait!
NOTES: hey everyone! thank you so much for patiently waiting for this second and last part to drop. i think that, after this one, if you guys want to request any drabbles or if i come up with some scenarios for this couple i will post them but for now nothing is on the works. what is on the works is a wip that's part of the same universe as this one, so pay attention to the new characters i mention if you want any clues! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: july 28th 2024.
TAGLIST (sorry if i forgot anyone, pls let me know!): @vannerriin / @mingtinysworld / @purple-bell / @bakepotatoman / @nxy3h / @taehyungmami / @nxcxllxsevens / @breadpuddingboys / @hotteokkay
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When you wake the next morning, the consequences of restless sleep show up in your face as a reminder of what happened the night before. 
It's not that you regret it, it's more the fact that you feel so unapologetic about messing with the perfect dynamic you have with Mingi that caused you to toss and turn so much. 
Last night, after putting your duvet back on and then crashing into the mattress feeling all tingly and giddy, you asked yourself a thousand questions. 
The main one being: What the fuck did you do? 
The words kept repeating over and over in your head, your voice of reason (or your anxiety) screaming at you to get your phone and make it right before everything becomes a complicated, unresolvable mess. 
You had a brief moment of panic and heavy breathing, your chest tight with unspoken emotion and your eyes filled with tears. 
It was too much, so you forced yourself up and paced around for what felt like hours trying to get your feet back on the ground. Nothing was working, so you sat down at your desk and rested your forehead against it. 
When you didn't feel the usual coolness of the wood, a comfort sensation for when your studies got the best out of you for the day, and instead felt a pen almost stab you in the eye, you -very confused- leaned back. 
Mingi’s notebook and the pen he didn't put back on the pencil case seemed to stare back at you lovingly instead of mocking you for losing control over your own emotions. 
A sense of peace washed over you when you flipped the pages and landed on the instructions he wrote down. Memories of the amazing years you have had by his side started crossing your mind, like recomforting flashes that allowed your heartbeat to go back to normal: 
The first day you saw Mingi, chasing behind a worn out soccer ball and then kicking it so hard it landed on your lawn. 
The first time you two hugged, when your dad scolded you for having bad grades until you cried in front of him. 
The way he held your hand before heading inside to take the college admission exam, last year of highschool. 
His kind eyes. His reassuring smile. The way he made you feel just a few hours back. 
There's no getting rid of me either, love.
We'll figure it out. 
Letting a few contained tears run down your cheeks, you nodded to yourself as if he was there in the room with you. 
Yeah, you'll figure it out.  
And then proceeded to, very much, not figure shit out for the rest of the night. You could still feel his hands everywhere and hear his voice against your ear whispering how much he knows you and pays attention to you. 
You are fucked. 
It's all you can think about when you get ready for the day. It's all you can think about when you help your dad with lunch and when you let your parents know at the table that you are going out that same afternoon. 
“Mingi is driving you, right?” 
“Yeah…” you whisper in response, eyes focused on one specific spot at the table and mind a million years away from the conversation. 
“Good. He's such a good kid, Y/N, I'm glad he knows how to take care of you.” 
Choking on air when your brain finally catches up to her words, you look back up at your mother in shock “W-what?” 
“Yeah honey, what? Y/N can take care of herself,” your father chips in, unaware of your red cheeks or the honest expression of panic you're giving both of them “She's a big girl that carries around that, uh… What was it?— Ah, that pepper spray I gave her, right?” 
“R-right.” 
He lets out a satisfied see? at your answer, gives you a tiny smile and gets up from the table to take his finished plate over to the sink. 
Your mom stays behind, giving you a look you can't quite read before her usual calm expression washes it away. Only then, you can take a proper, very needed, calming breath. 
“I need to get ready. Thank you for the food.” 
“You made it, dear.” 
“I mean! For taking care of the, uh, plates,” you clumsily correct yourself right away, getting up from the table as well “Love you. Bye!” 
You don't miss the confused giggle on your way to your room and when you're behind closed doors, you finally take into consideration that you might be, in fact, overreacting.
Not much, you think, but just enough to give your feelings away. And it's truly a shame, because you were planning on concealing and bottle everything up until it, inevitably, blows up in your face. 
Maybe not the smartest option. 
If you bang your head against the wall with enough force maybe, just maybe it’ll help—
Someone's texting you. 
> gi: heeeeey > gi: just woke up lol > gi: had the best sleep ever tho > gi: how are you, love? 
Okay. So normal texting it is. Maybe your initial plan of just pretending nothing happened is, coincidentally, Mingi’s plan as well. 
So you type in it's literally almost one, ya lazy and let your thumb hover over the send button, eyebrows creased at a sudden realization. 
The casual texting annoys you. 
Sure, Mingi is used to keeping everything casual between him and the people he sleeps with, but you're not just anyone! You didn't sleep together, either! 
Oh, maybe that's why. 
But it ticks you off either way. 
Is he not feeling the same way you do? Did it mean something different for him than it did to you? What did it even mean to you in the first place?
Why, after all the panic you felt the night before, did you have any sort of expectation for today? 
It doesn't make any sense. 
You hit send. 
> gi: aaaaand?  > gi: god forbid a man gets a good night's rest after being thrown off a bed. 
Scoffing, your eyes roll before you can even control it and, to your demise, the giddiness returns. You respond with did you get hurt? awww and raise a hand to your blushed cheek before sending the message.
> gi: yeah wtf  > gi: my butt is all bruised.  > gi: kiss it better? 
Oh. 
Not casual texting. At. All. 
Or maybe it is? 
Ugh.
Blanking on everything Mingi has ever texted you before, you decide it's best to entertain yourself by getting all pretty to sit around the house party tonight and do nothing else instead of torturing your confused brain any longer. 
Using the help of an emoji to flip him off and, hopefully, gather yourself together enough to get ready, you shoot him another text rushing him to do the same because you don't want to be late. 
And he usually takes forever to get ready anyways.
Showering with very cold water, taking a good thirty minutes to decide whether to wear something comfy and fitting or sexy and fitting for the party do the job when it comes to taking your mind off him for, at least, the time being. 
Yunho was insistent the day before in that you didn't need to bring a bathing suit if you didn't want to, but you pack one anyways because you can sense Wooyoung's and Jongho’s intentions even if the youngest couldn't make it to your impromptu gathering yesterday. 
They know you hate when they get away with annoying you and throwing you into the nearest body of water -in this case, Yunho’s pool- in front of many people you don't know (therefore, you are not going to able to go insane mode on them) seems like the perfect opportunity to get away with it.
The last time they did it you weren't really able to scold them properly either, so they laughed and pointed at you until you threatened to kick their asses in a very dishonest but playful way. 
Mingi, of course, did nothing but laugh along with everyone else and then kiss your forehead as an apology later that day. 
That was last summer and since then both perpetrators have treated you to meals and buttered you up enough for you to forgive (as if you didn't do that the morning that followed the incident) but you never forget. 
Maybe you should. It would make the sight of Mingi parking outside your house easier, you think.
You're sure he's parking outside just to give your dad, who comes out to greet him with a hug, some peace of mind. He's very protective of you and he trusts Mingi even if he gives him a hard time everytime he sleeps over or takes you somewhere.  
Like now, you have a very clear view through your window of the sermon he's giving your best friend. You don't hear it but he's moving his hands in the air way too much for it not to be a clear step by step on what to do if you run into any trouble on the way to Yunho's. 
Mingi likes step by step and he's good at following instructions, so you don't think it's going to be an issue. 
God damnit, Y/N, get it together. 
Sighing, you pick up your bag, check your outfit once in front of the mirror, and rush downstairs and out of the door. 
“You do know how to change a tire, son?” 
Mingi is standing in front of your dad with his hands behind his back and a tight smile. 
“Yes sir, my dad taught me and then at the school they made sure I didn't forget about it.” 
“And make sure to—” 
“Could you let the guy breathe, dad?” 
They both turn to, your dad wears a mocking smile and you see Mingi’s tight one breaks into a genuine one a second later. A grateful one, even. 
He looks really good. Which is insane, considering that to you he looked like Chewbacca just yesterday morning. 
Crazy what a good orgasm can do to a person. Or maybe it's the first time you ever let yourself see him in this light. Either way, he's wearing light wash jeans and a fitted t-shirt that clings to him just right and it's going to drive you insane, you can just feel it. 
“I was just making sure that he—” 
“Knows what to do,” you nod “He knows what he's doing, dad. Stop giving him a hard time,” you give your dad a quick kiss on the cheek and then rush to the passenger seat, giving Mingi a glance so he can get in the car as well. 
“Alright. Love you, take care!” 
“Love you too, Mr. L/N!” Mingi says, getting into his seat and giving your dad the opportunity to see when he fastens his seatbelt. He doesn't say anything else, even though he didn't tell Mingi specifically that he loved him and instead gives you both a nod of approval. 
When Mingi finally drives off your street and into the main one, you sigh in relief. 
“He's neeever going to trust me, huh?” 
“He trusts you,” you say right away, cheek resting against the seat so you can take a proper look at him “I'm his only daughter and you're a man after all. Cut him some slack.” 
“He never cuts me some slack!” he fights back but you just laugh and he can't help but join you “You look really good, by the way. A dress? Are you trying to impress someone?” The tone he uses sparks the remaining tension from the night before, like zero time has passed since he kissed you goodnight by your front door. 
When you got into the car with Mingi, you didn't consider that you two would be alone for, at least, forty minutes before getting to your destination. Your mind skipped the fact that he has this new ability to fluster you by just existing near you and you curse it for not letting you prepare well enough for the way he's looking at you right now. 
“Obviously,” you answer in a whisper, clearing your throat a second later “Wooyoung needs to be distracted so he doesn't tackle me into the pool the second we get there. Don't know if it's gonna work on Jongho, though.” 
Mingi clicks his tongue, baring his teeth and pretending to really think about it “I don't think so, love. You'll have to bribe him into considering dropping their whole summer schtick for you.” 
“You can help me with that.” 
“Can I now?” 
“Yeah. You can just… lock him up in a room and my dress can do the rest of the work.” 
Your best friend laughs and then takes a hand off the steering wheel to roll the hem of your dress in between his thumb and index. His knuckles brush against your thigh and you almost -almost- make a noise at the sensation. 
“It's not the dress, love… It's who's wearing it.” 
A bit of silence passes within the both of you. 
“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 
Laughter fills the car and drowns out the honking on the other side of the street and you wonder why you were worried in the first place. 
Nothing has changed. 
Aside from the intention laced with the flirting, it feels the same way it ever did and you couldn't be more glad because now that you know Mingi doesn't hate you (like you thought for a brief moment last night) or wants to hard launch a relationship that doesn't exist to your friends the second he gets them all together in the same room, you can enjoy the car ride and the evening that's about to follow it.
So you flirt with him freely, listen and sing along to songs that just feel like summer summarized in three minutes of exquisite writing and roll your window down once Mingi takes a turn into a hill, trees replacing the buildings you're so used to seeing. 
Your friend is rich rich. His family makes good money and his parents go on lots of business trips. That being said, it's the first time you actually attend one of his parties, and so when you get to Yunho’s house and ring the doorbell, you’re caught by surprise because you can already hear the loud music playing in the backyard and the blend of new and familiar voices through the thick door. 
You expect him to open the door for you but Seonghwa’s smile is the first thing you see before you and Mingi both have the opportunity to step in. 
“You made it!” 
“It's pretty hard to miss this house, Hwa.” 
Your older friend side-hugs you and stays by your side while Mingi takes it upon himself to put your bags for the day in the pile of other bags next to the door “How are you doing today?” 
You're about to answer but when you look at him, you see him staring at Mingi, so you do too. He's staring at Hwa with a little smile “I'm doing good. I blocked her and everything and I can confidently say that…” he turns to you “My ego’s not bruised anymore.” 
If Seonghwa catches the spark between you and you best friend, he decides to ignore it “That's goo—” 
“Mingi!” 
What the hell is she doing here? 
Not, not that bitch from yesterday but this girl who Mingi meets with sometimes. You don't really know her, you just know she's gorgeous and that her name starts with an h, maybe? 
She's a fashion major and it shows in the way she's dressed up today. Truly, an enjoyable company whenever she's around at frat parties, a saving grace when you're tired of surrounding yourself with only men. 
Right now? She's your worst nightmare. 
Wrapping her arms around Mingi’s neck and getting on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek, she smiles like she knows she's getting laid tonight and your best friend does nothing to pull her away. 
She doesn't even say hi to you before dragging him to the backyard! You and Seonghwa follow them and when she takes Mingi’s arm and pulls him over to -you assume- introduce him to her friends, you almost stomp your feet like a little kid. 
Trying to get rid of the annoyed frown on your face, you turn to Hwa with a teasing smile and your eyebrows raised. 
“Well fuck me, am I right?” 
“I might!” Arms wrap around your waist and you feel Woo’s chin resting on your shoulder immediately after “That's a very nice dress, Y/N.” 
If Mingi was next to you, like you want him to be, you would give him a I told you so glance. Instead, you just look at Seonghwa with absolute horror before he snickers and goes away. 
“Right? And it looks horrible when it's drenched in nasty chlorine water.” 
“You can't possibly know that.” 
“I know a lot of things and— No! Woo, please don't,” you beg when he lifts you off the ground for a second. Behind you, you hear laughs and, even though you can't see them, you know it's San and Jongho “I just got here and I haven't even changed yet, please.” 
He turns you around and hugs you properly this time before letting you go. You take the opportunity to punch him in the arm and then go over to San and Jongho to do the same. 
“We'll let you get your swimsuit on this time.” 
“You're so considerate, Jong. Seriously, they're going to give you the Nobel prize if you don't stop.” He mocks you, repeating what you just said in a higher pitched voice and you laugh as you sit next to Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend, Gyuri. 
San also has a girl sitting beside him with his arm around her, but you don't really know her so you just wave at her. They're all in their bathing suits already “See how he tried to flirt with me to try to get me with my guard down? He's a monster.” 
“And in front of me, too? The nerve on this guy.” Gyuri, of course, backs you up immediately and you want to return her smile, but you can see Mingi from the corner of your eye and it's distracting. 
“Oh, they're ganging up on me already,” Wooyoung whines, sitting down in front of you both and handing you a drink “It's like my worst nightmare.” 
“He's enjoying it, don't let him convince you otherwise,” San says, getting up from his seat and taking his girl with him “Especially coming from you.” He points at Gyuri and you laugh. 
“We're just friends now!” 
“That's what you told me like three years ago before—” 
Wooyoung gets up to chase after him and San lets go of the girl's hand to try to get away from him. 
Turns out, you're not the one Woo tackles into the pool. This time, him and San crash down on the water hard and a few droplets of water wet your feet. Gyuri laughs and everyone else does too when they realize what's happening. 
Jongho gets up and joins them in the water soon after to try and help (kinda, not really) San escape the wrath of his best friend. 
You almost miss it, because you take the opportunity to look at your best friend and, when you do, he's already looking at you. 
Breath catches on your throat and the lump that forms afterwards has a name and a reason: Mingi is looking at you with so much longing it physically hurts. 
He looks like wants to drop everything and come and confuse your fragile mind even more, just like he did the night before. 
Then why the fuck is he there with whatever her name is and her friends and not sitting right next to you? 
You look away, grasping your drink for emotional support and convincing yourself you're starting to see things that are not actually there. 
“Why the fuck are y'all fighting this time?!” Yunho comes from inside the house and it's the first time you see him today “No choking! No running! It's literally in the rules!” 
“Wooyoung please let go of my boyfriend!” 
Ah. So she is San’s girlfriend. Still, you turn to Gyuri to ask. 
“Who is sh—” 
“San’s new girlfriend, Kyungmi. We don't give a fuck about her or San right now, we're mad at them,” you want to ask who we is, because Wooyoung seems like he's just playing, but she interrupts you again “What the fuck is going on with you and Mingi?” 
Huh?! 
You make a quick mental review of your plan. Conceal? Clearly it didn't work. Bury your emotions deep so no one notices? You probably can't recover from the way you smile just dropped. 
The only thing left on the list is pretend that you're insane, but you're not sure it'll work either. So you turn it on her: “Nothing much. He played Espresso like three times on a row on the way here and I almost kill him, but—” 
“You can't bullshit me, Y/N.” 
Great, that didn't work either. 
“I saw that. Seonghwa did too but he got up before I could convince him to ambush you,” she dramatically sighs, chugging the rest of her drink down “So, what is going on?” 
“Nothing,” that much is true “he's literally with a girl right now.” 
“And she will never mean as much to him as you do. Next.” 
“Gyuri… I really don't know what you want me to say.” 
Squinting her eyes at you suspiciously, Gyuri takes her time before answering and you fidget in your seat a little. Wooyoung liked her for a reason, she's feisty and goes straight to the point and it's something you usually admire but right now it's not the time for her to do this. 
“I just thought maybe it finally happened…” She whispers and shrugs the entire conversation off before getting up “Let's head inside. They're going to start grilling meat at any second and I also don't want to be near Wooyoung when he gets out of there.” She points at him and you laugh. 
Jongho has him in a chokehold and Yunho is trying to separate them while San desperately swims towards his girl that's still waiting for him near the edge of the pool. 
“Sure thing.” 
You pretend you don't feel Mingi's eyes on you as you move. 
This is not unusual. Whenever you all go to parties, hosted by someone inside of the friend group or not, you end up separating from Mingi. 
He does his thing. He's outgoing and he likes dancing while you enjoy conversation and drinking away at the rest of the party, occasionally making out with someone and calling it a night when your social battery runs out. 
So you hang out with Gyuri in the kitchen until the sun starts going down and when the last ray of it disappears you decide it's time to swim a bit before you're too tipsy for it to be safe. 
Grabbing your bag and greeting some new people you don't know at the door, you head up to the bathroom you are told by the host himself it's upstairs. 
When you're tying up the strands of your swimsuit, the door slams open and you jump and cover yourself up with your hands because you're not able to finish the job, so the strands fall down and the only thing holding the top part of the fabric it's you. 
“What the fuck, Mingi?” 
Turning around, you're only able to look at him through the mirror. 
“Lock the door next time! What if it was somebody else?” 
“People usually knock!” 
“I didn't mean to scare you, it's the door’s fault,” he makes a fool of himself trying to prove it “See? I— let me help you with that,” he closes the door again and, this time, he locks it before taking a short step and grabbing the strands of your top “It's the second time this week I scare you like that, huh? I’m sorry, love.” He ties the strands together with a secure knot and his apology finally allows your tense muscles to relax. 
You remind yourself that there's no valid reason for you to be mad at him. You'll figure it out, he said it himself, and maybe today is not the day to do so. 
But he's not stepping away once he's finished, he's not even saying anything else before his hands grab your waist and his chest collides to your back. 
Looking at him through the mirror again, you silently ask him with your eyes what he thinks he's doing. He ignores you, bending down so the tip of his nose can trace the skin on the side of your neck. 
“I missed you,” his voice sounds like honey when he says it and you, once again, curse the ability he has to make you crumble “and you disappeared like an hour ago.” 
You let out a sigh. 
“I was in the kitchen, Mingi, not missing and we were in the same space for at least twenty minutes before that and like… forty minutes in a car, together.” You remind him and he frowns “Besides, you were with Ha… Haneul?” 
“Hanni,” he corrects and you huff out a whatever “and she was introducing me to some of her friends that are in the same major as me, just a year over.” 
“Cool.” 
He pecks your shoulder. You do your best to not melt completely into him and fix your hair in the mirror. 
“Y/N…” he starts and you hum in acknowledgement “I missed you.” 
It pisses you off for some reason. The mature thing to do is to let him know but the words that leave you are petty and laced with annoyance. 
“I’m sure you did, buddy.” 
He grins against your skin and you turn around to face him, eyebrow raising. 
“What's so amusing?” 
At your tone, he seems taken aback but his smile stays curving his lips upwards.
“I'm just really happy to have this moment with you,” he says, matter of factly, and you press your hands against his chest to regain some personal space. He doesn't budge an inch “What's going on?” 
He's such a guy sometimes. 
“You're here, kissing my neck, while a gorgeous girl who I'm sure is waiting for you downstairs is probably bragging to her friends about how she's going home with you tonight and—” 
“Y/N, I'm literally taking you home.” 
“I can easily take a car back— Mingi, seriously,” taking a deep breath, you stare at him with all the honesty you can gather “I don't want to do whatever this is if afterwards you're going downstairs to dance and flirt with Haneul or whatever her name is.” 
He looks like he wants to correct you on it again, so you level him with a daring glance. 
He keeps his mouth shut. 
“And I also don't want you to hurt her feelings if you tell her you can't leave with her tonight, so—” 
“I don't give a shit about her feelings, love.” 
“Mingi, don't say that!” 
“I don't! I wasn't flirting with her at all, either! Listen, it's…” he stops to chuckle for a few seconds “I mean, it's adorable that you're jealous but there's no reason for you to—” 
“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 
It's the second time today you have said those exact words to him. The first time, you also felt your heart bang with such force against your rib cage but for a completely different reason. 
“I'm not one of the girls you fuck on the side when you're horny or bored out of your mind. Don't fucking treat me like one.” You warn and suddenly the image of you telling him that teaching him yesterday could mess you both up crosses your mind.  
“I'm not, Y/N! I'm just saying that you look adorable when you're—” 
“Jealous? Why would I be jealous when we are not together, Mingi? I'm literally looking out for the girl!” 
“You don't even know her name, love.” 
“That's not the fucking point!” 
He finally takes a step away from you, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath, surely.
Now you're pissed off because he saw right through you and your words. 
That disgusting weight on your chest you felt back by the pool while you kept staring at him from the corner of your eye? Jealousy. 
Now that he brought it up, it makes sense. 
You hate it. 
You always hated being put in a position where you felt the need to compare yourself to others. Always hated how easy it is for anger to run through your blood and infiltrate every waking thought until it clouds your judgment. 
Because you shouldn't be angry. He just said he didn't care about her feelings. 
And yet, all you can think about is that he spent an hour with her instead of you. 
When he turns to you, there's a storm in his eyes and you just don't want to hear it tonight. 
“Save it, keep it, sleep on it and we'll talk tomorrow,” picking your dress from the spot on the floor it's been sitting all this time, you put the fabric on, take your bag and then unlock the door “I’m going home.” 
You don't give him the opportunity to say anything else before getting out of the bathroom but you do hear a groan when you're rushing downstairs. 
Yeosang and Yunho are just leaving the kitchen when you trip on the last step and the host jogs the few steps to you after laughing. 
“There you are, Y/N. Listen, there's some meat already grilled back there but we're—” 
“I'm actually going home, Yun,” you cut him short “I'm not feeling that well. My plan was to swim a little before leaving but I don't think I can do it.” 
“Did something happen or…?” 
What happened is coming downstairs as he asks. 
“Nope. Nothing, I just think I'm catching a cold or something. Thank you so much for inviting me though!” You hug your friend quickly, kissing his cheek before pulling away. 
“Always…” Yunho is very observant but, as you always do, he doesn't press you with questions about what's going on “He's taking you home?” Pointing behind you, you don't have to turn around to get what he means. 
“Ye—” 
“No. He's having a great time here, I don't want to get in the way,” you shrug “I'll just get an uber or something. Don't worry.” 
Yunho frowns slightly, eyes moving from your face to over your shoulder. 
Immature. Petty. Rude. 
You're sure that's the way you’re coming off right now. But feeling anger bubbling behind the smile you give Yunho, you think it's better they make their assumptions instead of actually seeing you upset. 
You move to hug Yeosang as well and he murmurs his farewell. When you turn around, Mingi is no longer there and you don’t spare a look towards the floor to ceiling glass windows that separate the living area from the backyard because you're sure he's sitting right beside that girl again. 
As he should be. 
You bolt for the door, giving your friends a tiny smile before going down the few steps and into the hill. It's already dark and you're sure no uber driver it's going up this hill for the tip you're able to offer them, so you figure your best shot is to go down and try to find a cab on the main street. 
The light from your phone illuminates your scowl as you walk. Past the bushes and the trees and the lines of parallel parked cars where Mingi’s Lexus is. 
You don't notice him there until he opens the backdoor to block your step. 
“Get in the car, I'm taking you home.” 
Closing the door he just opened to stop you, you shake your head. 
“I told you I'm getting a ride and—”
“I don't give a fuck. Get in the car.” And then he's opening his door and closing it so fast it gives you no room for debating. 
He's angry. Shit. 
You can't even see him through the tinted window to assess how much damage you have done, so you look down the hill one more time and wonder if making the run for it is worth it. 
When your phone lights up with a notification from Gyuri asking you if everything's okay and to make it home safe, you take it as a sign to round the car and get into the passenger side with an annoyed huff. 
The engine comes to life. You're not looking at him but at the trees until the leaves start showing the building lights in-between them and soon you're on the main road. 
You can't even ask him to turn the radio on. Stubborn, you refuse to let the anger inside of you dissipate in fear of shame taking over. It's better being angry than being ashamed, at least in this exact moment because you can practically feel Mingi's anger through the silent treatment. 
But you need to say something. The silence is suffocating and the street is surprisingly empty so you can't distract yourself with anything. 
“You shouldn't have bothered.” 
“I am bothered. You bothered me.” 
Clenching your jaw, you turn to him in disbelief “I told you to stay at the goddamn party so we can fix this tomorrow but I bothered you?”
“Did I stutter or something?” 
“No, you're just not making any fucking sense!” 
“Yeah, fuck this,” you see him look around, biting the inside of his cheek like he's holding his words in “We're fixing this right now.” 
The car makes a harsh turn and you have to grab the door for support. 
“Mingi!” He's not listening to you anymore. His hard gaze stays on the road, it feels like forever before he pulls into a somewhat empty parking lot and when the vehicle stops you go to open the door and get the fuck away from him before you two kill eachother inside this car. 
That's an exaggeration but with the way he turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt, you know your pride doesn't stand a chance. 
The summer breeze briefly hits your face before his hand is on yours, closing the door and preventing you from, once again, escaping the situation. 
Frustrated, you let out a loud groan “What the fuck is your problem?!” 
“I don't know, Y/N! But I'll tell you what your problem is, alright?” he chuckles. It's a humorless sound, his face painted in something you've never seen before “Your problem is that you assume you know what everyone else is feeling and you assume you're right. But intuition can only get you so far, love, so I need you to take your head out of your ass and think logically for a second.” 
Flabbergasted, you think you murmur something in your defense but he cuts you short. 
“No! You didn't let me get a word out back there so now you're going to shut up and listen,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes “You assume you're smarter than everyone else but you're actually so dumb. Dumb, you're acting very dumb and reckless, Y/N! That back there?” he points out of the window to nothing but you know what he means “Leaving— Scratch that. Leaving me and not giving me a chance to say anything back? Trying to go down that hill alone and in the dark? Stupid.” 
Staring back at him with watery eyes, you don't even know what to say back except a whispered excuse me?
“And usually I would beat up anyone who even dares to call you that but I guess all these years I've been wrong about you. Because if you were smart, you would've realized that Hanni means nothing to me and I mean nothing to her. There's nothing, she loves appearances and that's it.” 
You knew that already, but you're not giving your stance up. 
What even is your stance? Ah, right, he treated you like an envious no one back there and not like his best friend.  
“Yeah, I can tell you mean nothing to her from the whiny tone and the hug and the dragging you to meet her friends, Mingi.” Scoffing at the memory, your lips press into a thin line. 
“Well, she's a friendly girl!” 
“She didn't even say hi to me!” 
“So she doesn't like you, Y/N! Who cares!” you sure don't but, again, you just stare at him in disbelief and his open arms, palms to the sky “Do you care? Because I don't! And guess what? I doesn't fucking matter if she likes you or not or if she wants me or not because I like you!” 
What? 
“W-what?” 
“I like you! And I'll choose you over her and everyone else again and again and again until you notice but fuck it's so tiring. You're so fixated on why I let her drag me to her friends that you completely ignored me the rest of the time we were there and maybe if you looked at me more than once you would've realized that I was staring back at you the whole afternoon!” 
You let out an annoyed chuckle “So you were, Mingi.” 
“I was! I was trying to get you to look at me and notice how bad I wanted you to come over, rescue me from that boring ass conversation, grab my hand and claim your place right beside me because—” he pauses, resting a hand on the steering wheel and looking at you like he can't believe he has to spell this out for you “Because I want nothing more than for her and everyone to know I’m yours! I'm sure everyone already fucking knows too, except you. So yeah, sometimes, you're pretty fucking dumb for such a smart woman, Y/N.” 
Words escape you. They escape your mind, your reason and your pride shrinks until it disappears behind all the love you feel for Mingi. 
So that's what you are feeling. That's what you felt yesterday night when the tiredness couldn't drown out your thoughts of him and all he meant to you. 
Love, love, love. In all its forms, in all its possible scenarios. Your heart burns for it and you used to think that your hopeless romantic desires began and died with the movies you tend to see and the books you tend to read, that it was impossible to feel this way for anyone but there he is, chest heaving in the yellow interior light, waiting for you to say something back. 
“And I realize that before yesterday I showed no interest in you but believe me when I say that I—” 
Shakily, you interrupt him with whispered words, heart soaring and hands reaching out to cup his beautiful face “Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 
When you kiss him, you make sure to pour out everything you couldn't say a minute ago into it. 
When he kisses you back with the same feeling, it crosses your mind that he already forgave you. 
And when he grabs your waist and drags you over the break handle and the transmission to collide his chest against yours and drag his tongue along the seam of your bottom lip, you think that, for the first time ever, you have to tell him he's right. 
You are stupid. Stupid for not realizing it sooner, stupid for confusing his longing stares for something platonic, stupid for thinking you could wait until tomorrow to tell him he has the right to see and be with anyone he wants to because this is it. 
This. The way your entire body comes alive when he sighs into your mouth and groans at the way your knee opens up his legs to make room for you on his side of the car and partially on his lap. The way his thumbs run through your cheeks and dry the tears you didn't even feel falling down. The way your heart jumps frantically and the way its beats could get confused by his because you're so close. 
Suddenly and unexpectedly, you can't recall a time Mingi didn't make you feel this exact same way. It's overwhelming, it expands through you like a fire and it knocks the remaining air out of your lungs enough for you to pull away and rest your forehead against his, shaky breaths tangling together and fingers grasping the neck of his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself. 
You sniffle, incapable of not feeling emotional over his confession and your realization “I'm sorry, Mingi. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for treating you that way I was… I behaved like…” 
“An ass.” He nods and you look at him with the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. 
“Yeah,” you nod as well “I was an ass. A jealous ass.” 
“I know, love.” He whispers, eyes moving on your face before his lips are on yours again, briefly, sweetly, even if you don't feel like you deserve it “You tend to forget that I know you, hm? That I've seen you jealous before? You were an ass back then, too.” 
“Okay! Okay, stop calling me an ass, I get it.” 
“I'm sorry for waiting for you to do something when you didn't even… I guess you didn't know, right? The way I feel about you?” 
“I know now,” you whisper back, nudging your nose against his and then putting some distance so you can see him better “I feel the same way, by the way. We're shit at communicating, apparently, so I'll just tell you now that—” 
His lips are on yours again and he's giggling against them and shaking his head when he pulls away. Brown eyes search for yours and you're not sure what he's looking in them but he seems to find it, his muscles relaxing against the leather of his seat seconds later. 
So you kiss him again. And again and again until your back starts hurting and the steering wheel is pressed uncomfortably against it, forcing you to shift on his hold. 
“Let me… Wait.” He lets you go to pull his seat back and then closes his legs, forcing your knee to fall on his other side so you can fully straddle his lap “That's better. Now come here.” And then he’s grabbing the back of your neck and stealing your breath away again with another kiss.
The tension shifts right then. When he can fully feel you pressing up against him and when a noise escapes you once his hands drop and give your bare legs the attention you didn't even know you were craving. 
You thought a second ago that the sweet kisses would stop once you were both sated with the sweet aftermath of all the yelling and confessing but now you don't want it to stop. 
There's a lot to catch up on, a lot of missed time you need to make up for. 
You still want to make him feel good. The sparks from yesterday come alive again and soon you're yanking the strands of dark hair with your fingers and letting your mouth explore the skin of his neck. When you sink your teeth into his skin, he lets out the same noise he did the night before and you smile against the mark you just made. 
His lips find your shoulder and he breathes hard into it once your hips start moving at their own accord, slowly yet firmly, the pad of his fingers digging hard on your thighs until you break away from his neck to focus on his face again. 
“This goddamn dress, love.” 
Humming, you caress his red cheek with your lips “What about it?” 
“Been thinking about it all day…” 
“It worked, by the way.” 
“Woo?” 
“Mhm. Distracted him so he didn't throw me in the pool right away.” 
“And Jongho?” 
“Probably plotting against me right now.” 
He laughs softly into your skin “Probably.” 
Chuckling as well, you stop your movements and take in how he looks. Gone, a little too fucked up from just making out, lips swollen and eyes clouded with something you're getting too familiar with, too quick. 
“Worked on you, too.” 
He smiles and shrugs, letting his head drop into the headrest “You look good in everything, love. It doesn't really matter what you wear.” 
“Oh?” 
A firm hand trails up your body, slowly, from you leg to your hip, your waist to the side of your breasts and your until it cops your face with affection you never imagined you would experience. 
“I have always thought you are the most beautiful girl to ever exist.” 
This is it. 
Leaning into his touch, your lips connect to the palm of the hand holding you before you lean forward again. 
“I love you, Mingi.” 
He doesn't seem surprised by your confession and you're glad he knows. It doesn't really matter if it's too soon, if you even mean it in a romantic way or not, the love you have for him transcends all labels. 
“I love you too, Y/N.”
And his does too. 
You kiss him until it hurts. 
He kisses you until you're gasping and your body is pleading for more. 
The both of you kiss each other until you're sure nothing else will replace the taste of one another, that it will linger forever even if your paths stop crossing at any point in time. 
It feels like you're trapped somewhere where the clock doesn't tick at all, where you can take your time exploring him with your mouth and your hands. 
And then it doesn't. 
The fabric of the dress starts bothering you, his tight shirt is suddenly not tight enough and the hardness steadily growing and pressing into your core is screaming for attention you can't give him with all these clothes on the way. 
He feels it too, fingers tracing the hem of your dress for the second time today and then they're under it, pulling at the fabric up until it bunches on your waist. 
You're still wearing the swimsuit he helped you put on earlier but it does little to conceal how affected you are. Looking down, you're not even ashamed of it when he follows your eyes and lets his linger on the patch of wetness darkening the color of the bottoms. 
Still, he moves his hands upwards again and soon you're struggling to get the dress off, considering you're almost bumping the roof of the car when you straighten your spine to do so. 
“Wanna know what crossed my mind when I saw you in the bathroom?” 
When it's finally off, he immediately goes for it: His index tracing your collarbone and slowly descending, his short nail dragging against your skin before the rest of his fingers join, right in between your breasts, where there's fabric holding together the top of the swimsuit. 
He could easily tug on it if he wanted to. Instead, he ignores it and presses the heel of his hand against it, forcing you to lean back and almost bump into the steering wheel again. 
Unable to speak and panting, you only nod as a reply to his question. 
“How easy it would be to get on my knees and eat you out. I thought: What if I just…” Using his other hand to mess with the knots that keep the left bottom part of the swimsuit together, he demonstrates what he means without actually doing it, his eyes following the motions “Undo these, get on my knees and make her come all over my face?” 
“Fuck, Mingi…” 
“You would like that, wouldn't you?” He smirks without actually looking at you, the hand on your sternum traveling down against your skin before joining the other one, teasing the knots on the right. 
“Y-yes.” 
Maybe he can see it on your face, the sudden nervousness at the scene he painted before you, because he grabs one of your hands and brings them to his lips before drawing you close again “Please tell me your idiot ex-boyfriend ate you out when you were together.” 
Blush darkening, you make a face that gives the answer away. 
He groans “He's worse than I thought, fuck. Come here.” And without any warning, the back of his seat goes down until it touches the backseat with it.
Bracing yourself against his chest, because you went down with him as well, you huff out a surprised laugh “Go where?” 
“Up here. Let me teach you something tonight.” 
“Mingi…” 
“First, you need to make sure your hands are clean—” 
“Stop,” laughing, you interrupt his bad attempt at teasing you with the same words you used on him yesterday “There's no real support for me if we do this, where do I even—” 
“Knees here,” he motions the backseat and you could actually do it, but you would have to sit on his face instead of hovering like you imagine it would be more comfortable for him “hands here” he points to the grab handle and the headrest of the passenger seat and then straightens his spine a little, bringing his face closer to you so he can whisper right into your worn out lips “Turn the light off, I'll do the rest.” 
He looks like he's going to kiss you but then he falls back onto the seat with an excited smile curving his lips. 
What a tease. 
So of course you turn off the light and prop yourself up into the position he wants to. It's challenging, the car is not that small but it feels like it is and you very much would rather do this on a bed, spare his back and yours in the process, but excitement also runs through your body and your brain stops making up excuses for why should deny yourself of the pleasure of Mingi using his mouth to make you see stars the second his fingers undo the knots and peel the bottom half of your swimsuit off your body with ease. 
Lips trailing up your inner thighs and hands on each side of them, holding you in a secure position, Mingi doesn't tease you much before attaching his mouth to your heat and your subconsciousness flies out the window when his tongue flicks your clit. 
You look down at him and the sight of him enjoying himself has you beaming, the warmth spreads through you and the zeroes on your pussy. You don't even try to quiet down your moans, completely forgetting that you're in a public parking lot that can fill up at any second. 
But paying no mind to it either, Mingi also moans encouragingly into your wet folds when your hips move a little, chasing that high. 
He shifts his focus to your entrance, his tongue working itself into you and when you move your hips again at the feeling, his nose bumps into your clit in a way that has you grasping the headrest for support, right hand slipping down and resting on the window while your mouth hangs open and your eyes shut close. 
“Mingi… Baby, fuck, I'll—” he adds his thumb into his ministrations, pressing it against your clit the way he did yesterday and it only takes a few side to side movements for you to come undone on his mouth. 
And again, the intensity of your orgasm takes you by surprise. It's obviously not as intense as yesterday's but it still got you trembling so you want to curse him out for being that good at what he does. 
He eases you into it, slowing his mouth and you only register that it leaves you completely when your thighs are being kissed tenderly. 
Breathless, you look down at him and catch his smile before his teeth are sinking into your skin and forcing you to hiss out a laugh “Good?” 
“Yeah,” you smile, climbing down from your position and hovering over his lap in an attempt to not ruin his jeans. It's very obvious he enjoyed it too, his crotch holding the evidence tight and probably painfully against the fabric there “Really, really good.” 
You want to get on your knees and return the favor, make him squirm in pleasure, but the space is not working in your favor. So even though your thighs are hurting and sweat is dripping down your neck, you start working on the button and zipper of his jeans before he sits up.
He wants to say something, but your tongue is touching his and tasting yourself on it before he gets the chance. Clumsily, a little too far gone for your liking as well, you are able to get through the layers of clothes and let your hand hang over his dick “Are you gonna make me beg for it today?” 
“You don't have to, love.” 
“Beg?” you ask with a smile that he reciprocates “Or touch you?” your free hand brushes the hair out of his face, sliding down until you're propping his chin up with it, thumb tracing his bottom lip softly “Because I want to touch you. I want to make you feel so, so good, baby. Please.” 
He kisses the pad of your thumb and then takes it into his mouth, tongue caressing the tip of it until you're panting again and then nods. 
That's all the permission you need before taking him with your hand and pulling him out of his boxers. Taking your hand out briefly, you gather up saliva and spit right into it. 
Mingi lets out a noise at that. Interesting. 
Starting slow, you focus on his expression. Testing the waters, taking note of what he likes because, unlike him, you probably pushed to the corner of your mind every sexual conversation you two had before yesterday. You take a second to look down at it, the size is no surprise but your mouth waters at the image of you taking him into the heat of it. 
Maybe another time. For now, you focus on making him feel good with the little you can offer him in the enclosed space of his car. 
He mouths at your neck, choked up sobs vibrate through the skin on your collarbone and your top gets moved to the side so he can mark the side of your boobs as he pleases. It sets the fire inside of you alive again, your folds getting wetter when he rolls his tongue around your nipple and then throws his head back when you twist your hand in a motion he seems to really enjoy.
“Just like that, love.” 
To your delight, he's not quiet. He's loud, he's grabby, taking the opportunity to hold onto your ass and press down on the skin when you tease his slit and gather his precum on your fingers so you can spread it around his cock and your hand can slide easier. 
Movements get sloppy once he's close, he's no longer paying attention to you and you welcome it as a great sign, his hips bucking into your hand and he moves you forward until you're sitting on his lap again. 
The only thing preventing your pussy and his dick from touching is your hand. 
You glance at him and he looks back, probably the same idea popping up into his mind so you nod once.
The car moves as you two move around, to the back seat, the spine of his seat up and the entire thing moving forward to make space for him next to you, over you, on top of you once he kicks his jeans and boxers off to the floor. 
You reach out to him in a silent plea and he bends down to kiss you soft and moist and hot and breathy, sensually, with sweet sounds escaping both of you when you reach under his shirt and lift it up until he gets what you want. Discarding it with the rest of his clothes, your top follows it and the contentment you feel when his naked chest touches yours is unmeasurable. 
There's no real room to move around and there's not really any patience left within both of you, so when he apologizes when he moves his hips where he shouldn't and his tip brushes your entrance, you pull back from his bruising mouth. 
“Condom. Now.” 
He obliges right away, searching on his jeans for a minute or so and when he comes back he's smirking like he can't believe you “When I told you we needed to raincheck I didn't mean it to be like this. Bossy.” 
Even if you're punching him on his chest and giggling at his breathy words, you take the teasing with pride “You started it, Mingi!” 
Putting the condom on skilled and fast, he's soon resting his forehead against yours and kissing you softly again “I wanted you on my bed…” his lips trail down and the giggles die on your throat as he's kissing it, a moan escaping you “On your back or knees or riding me…” he continues in a whisper going down and down and down, giving your nipples attention before going back up and taking your mouth in his again “Making a mess on my cock…” 
He takes the opportunity to enter you slowly and you gasp at the stretch, wet enough so it doesn't hurt you but you're unfamiliar with him, with his size splitting you open deliciously. 
“F-fuck, Y/N.” Mingi leans back to watch you take him in and you whine again. Tilting your head back, you let him work himself in and you moan loudly when he almost bottoms out “Look at you…” 
You don't. You can't. He's pressing his thumb on your clit again to ease you through the stretch and it makes the heat pool in your belly like you didn't come in his mouth a few minutes ago. 
Slowly but surely it gets easier for him to rock his hips into you, mouth parting in pleasure when you remind yourself to look at him. His abdomen tenses when you run your nails against the skin there, softly, until you're detouring them into his back and sinking them in just enough to have him whining at the feeling. 
“Baby… Harder.” 
“Yeah?” 
Hips bucking up to meet his at a particularly hard trust, you reach up to him so he can rest his body weight on yours. Close like this, with the pace picking up, the knot on your lower half tightens and threatens to break. 
“You take me so well, love. Fuck, always knew you would,” you know he can feel your walls tightening around him at the praise, because he smiles and kisses you once before continuing “My pretty, pretty girl… Taking my cock so well…” he punctuates his words with the roll of his hips and you cry out, holding his face in between your hands, his eyes never leaving yours. 
In this position, his lower abdomen bumps into your clit and it's soon tipping you over the edge. 
“So good, so good, oh— Oh, God.” You're mumbling incoherently while Mingi keeps whispering sweet nothings and then the tension on your belly breaks. It takes three seconds of your walls pulsating around him for him to groan loudly into your mouth and come undone as well. 
The only thing you can hear is breathing, all you can feel is breathing. His against your chin, yours blowing on his hair when you rest your cheek on his temple. 
It takes a second to gather yourself again and when you do, you tilt your head back to give him a chaste kiss that he returns. 
“That was so good, baby.” You tell him and he smiles, nodding in agreement “I am sticking to the fucking seat though.” 
Mingi snorts and just like that the energy shifts back to the usual you. Only this time, you come back to it knowing that no one’s ever going to have you the way he does. 
He slips out of you, doing his thing with the condom and you sit up, looking through the windows and becoming aware of your surroundings for the first time since you got there. 
There's a car parked far away from you that's empty and the rest of the cars that were near it have left. You wonder how long this all took, because you lost track of time the second he told you he likes you. 
Chest still heaving and boxers now on, Mingi rests his back on the door and takes your hand in his “Is it dumb of me to assume you're my girlfriend now, love?” 
“Is it dumb that I assumed that's what I was when you said you like me?” 
“No,” he answers right away “not dumb at all.” 
Smiling, you nod “Then I'm your girlfriend, Mingi.” 
He beams at that and then he's crowding you again “Say it again.” 
“I'm your girlfriend.” you repeat, enunciating each word and giggling when he nuzzles his nose into the crimson on your cheek “I’m yours, baby.” 
Resting his forehead against yours, he hums in contempt “Good, because I've always been yours too.” 
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“There's no way! You two... together? Guys… See, that would be me if I didn't see it coming but I'm smarter and cooler than everyone here so I did.” 
Wooyoung's over the top reaction has Mingi throwing his head back in a silent laugh and you staring at the black haired guy, unamused and a little offended. 
It's two days later and, as usual, you're at Wooyoung's and San’s apartment hanging out. 
After putting your clothes back on and going for some well deserved food, Mingi took you home, kissed you goodnight and showed up the next day after class to break the news to your parents. 
Your mom almost cried. Your dad too, but for a completely different reason. 
In the end, they both agreed they saw it coming and when you told Mingi’s parents, they said the same thing and invited yours to have celebratory dinner without you. 
What happened in Mingi’s room after was worth missing dinner anyways. 
Mingi and you decided to break the news when most of the group showed up for movie night and you were nervous to see their reactions. 
But everyone seems unaffected by it. 
“I knew you guys liked each other the second I met you. Ask Gyuri, she agrees with me.” 
“Sadly, I do.” Wooyoung's ex looks at you from her spot by the door, where she's getting her shoes on. 
She winks at you and you fake a gasp, falling into your boyfriend's lap with an annoyed huff. 
“And no one told us?!” 
“Sorry, Y/N. We didn't want to get in the way.” Hwa is apologetic and Yeosang nods alongside Hongjoong but you gape at them like they betrayed your trust. 
“To be fair we didn't know till’ last week, love.” 
“She didn't know.” Gyuri corrects him and now you turn to her to give her the betrayed look “You were pining over it for six months already.” 
“I say it was more like nine but…” Hwa shrugs and sips his cup, giving the man holding you close a knowing smile. 
Oh, they definitely talked about it, huh? 
“Nine months and no one cared to fill me in, huh?” 
“I’m sure Mingi did—” 
“Wooyoung!” 
“Well I didn't notice.” Yunho interferes with a shrug and gives you a recomforting smile that doesn't work at all. 
San laughs “That's because you're a puppy that can't even tell when someone likes you.” 
“Am not!” 
Everyone, including you and Mingi, make a noise in agreement with San.  
“You're one to talk, though, leave the puppy alone.” Gyuri tells her ex's best friend and Wooyoung laughs at him when his smile drops. 
There's some story there you don't know. 
“Guys… Does someone like me right now? Be honest.” 
Yeosang is about to tell him something but Jongho interrupts. 
“Enough with the love talk! Can we start the movie?” But he's pressing play already, so the answer doesn't really matter. 
Gyuri laughs once and Wooyoung makes his way over to her to give her a hug that she enjoys for one second tops before pushing him away. 
“Enjoy everyone! I'm so happy for you two, by the way, not that these neanderthals would tell you to your face but I'm sure they're too.” 
“Thank you, Gyuri.” Mingi murmurs from behind you and you mouth a thank you as well before she leaves for the night. 
Something about her best friend having a boy crisis. 
You don't miss the way San’s eyes follow her until she leaves or the way he looks at Woo, something clearly worrying him. 
His best friend ignores him, though, so you confirm that might just be a little pissed off at him after all. 
“Tell her to text you what happens.” San asks Woo once she leaves and he rolls his eyes. 
“Mhm. I’ll tell her to stop calling us neanderthals too.” 
You smile “Well, she's right.” 
“Nuh-uh!” 
Jongho has to stop the movie and you see him sulk while everyone else is arguing. Some of them, like Hwa and Yeo, are siding with you and Gyuri. And the rest of them, like your boyfriend, are telling them off. 
When you turn to face him, his argument dies mid-sentence because he stops to smile at you. He takes your face in his hand and kisses you for the first time ever in front of everyone else. The group stops the argument to tease you both and you laugh into his mouth. 
A cushion is thrown at you and Jongho gets up to separate your faces before sitting beside you with a pout on his lips. 
“Can we watch the goddamn movie?!” 
You're the happiest you've ever been.
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If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!
© jensthwa, 2024.
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galactic-magick · 2 months ago
Text
The Handsome Assistant: Viktor x Reader
Summary: You keep running into the handsome Dean's assistant, whom you find you have a lot in common with. You develop quite the crush, and things get a little messy when your friends find out about him.
Words: 3.2k
Warnings: some implied suggestive stuff, alcohol use
Author's Notes: Set before Season 1 Act 1. Just a warning, this is probably the most heavily self-indulgent of my Viktor fics so far. I’ve had ideas bouncing around my head for a long time about who I’d be if I lived in the Arcane universe, and I eventually just ended up taking inspiration from what I do in real life. So basically Reader works in human services and is similar to a social worker. I tried my best to write it in a way that makes sense even if you’re not familiar with that field.
Also, the roommate/friend characters are based on my besties irl, one of which is also my beloved tumblr mutual @ohboi , who has been dealing with my nonstop Viktor obsession for a long ass time now so shout-out to them lol. I wrote you living your dream in this fic as a way to apologize <3
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It’s exhausting dealing with the powers of topside. There’s no sense of urgency here, no drive for real progress. You’ve attended meeting after meeting, maintaining composure every time they tell you your mission isn’t a priority, or that it will take decades to implement.
All you want is to help the struggling children in the Undercity. It’s what you’ve dedicated your life to, studying human services and psychology at the Academy and building your own grassroots group with a few others from your graduating class. You primarily advocate for better education, as the schools down there barely get any funding. The council doesn’t want to hear it, though, as it’s much easier to forget about the citizens below their feet.
It frustrates you beyond belief, especially since the first chunk of your life was spent in the Undercity. You lived the stark contrast between the two cities yourself, being granted countless more opportunities once your family moved to Piltover. It was sickening, and you felt so guilty with your new privileges when your friends back home still had none. But without those privileges, you wouldn’t have been able to attend the Academy and give back.
You resist the strong urge to scream after another failed proposal with the council. You prepared all of your points for weeks, fact-checking everything and making sure your ideas were plausible. The budget and statistics you wrote out projected exponential progress for both cities, as focusing on the new generation of Zaunites would encourage the next great minds and likely lead to collaboration on mutual issues. But of course, the council is not ready to contemplate such a future.
There was one factor that wasn’t usually there, though, a handsome young man sitting beside Professor Heimerdinger. He was furiously taking notes the entire meeting, looking back down at his journal anytime you made eye contact with him. Out of all the councilors, Heimerdinger seemed the most open to your ideas, but without a majority agreeing to cast a vote to actually change policy, nothing would happen.
You walk back down the long hallway, noticing someone in your peripheral vision.
“I’m sorry the council remains so stuck in their ways,” he says. “Trust me, I understand how hard it is to hold back your anger towards them.”
You turn your head, seeing the young man from earlier, “Who are you?”
“Viktor. I’m assistant to the Dean of the Academy,” he replies, leaning on a cane. “I quite liked your ideas. I think they could work.”
“I know they would work.”
You sigh, quickly realizing you’re projecting your feelings onto this stranger.
“Sorry,” you correct yourself. “I just don’t understand how they can just not care about the suffering down there. I’m from the Undercity, I’ve seen what’s happening there firsthand, and it’s only getting worse.”
Viktor’s eyes widen a bit, “I’m from the Undercity, too.”
“You’re from the Undercity and you’re the personal assistant to Heimerdinger?” you question, a bit shocked at the prospect.
“It’s really not that big of a deal, but yes.”
“What do you mean, not a big deal? I’ve never even met anyone else from the Undercity who got into the Academy.”
“I suppose we are a rare breed,” he says. “I imagine I never saw you there due to our differences in studies.”
“Most likely,” you shrug. “None of my classes were in the science halls, assuming that’s where you were.”
He smirks, “What makes you assume I studied science?”
“You just have that look about you.”
He laughs, “Well, you’re right. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised someone well-versed in analyzing humanity read me so quickly.”
“Don’t worry, you’re still mostly a mystery to me. I can’t read minds or anything,” you flash him a genuine smile.
There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again.
“I need to get back to my lab, but I do hope we cross paths again. I’ll certainly discuss your proposals more with Heimerdinger as well.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
He leaves in the opposite direction, his cane tapping the floor.
What an interesting twist of fate, meeting someone like you.
-
The second time you run into Viktor is at an Academy party a couple months later, something you both likely would’ve skipped if you could. It’s somewhat a recruiting event for new students, and several alumni were asked to represent their fields of study. It’s not that you mind talking with prospective students, but you know you’ll have to hold back a lot of your true opinions when doing so. If you go off about how the curriculum doesn’t cover enough about the issues in the Undercity, you’ll surely get a reprimand from your former professors. You could lose several connections and investors in your organization as well, something you’re not willing to risk. Instead, you keep a smile on your face, engaging in conversation politely and answering questions.
You notice Viktor sitting at one of the far tables, his eyes darting around the room. He has several contraptions set up, and occasionally people come up to ask him about them. He lights up when he speaks, his face making the cutest expressions.
You notice yourself staring, quickly turning your head towards something else.
That sconce on the wall looks nice, doesn’t it?
As the event slows down and the crowd shuffles out, you pack up your things and head to the door, glancing back at Viktor’s table for a moment. He’s looking right back at you, and your heels swivel promptly to go see him.
“Hey,” you say, shooting him a smile. “Nice to see you again.”
Shit, was he this handsome the first time you met him?
“You as well,” he nods, gathering up his own things scattered in front of him. “Did you find anyone to join your program?”
“A few, yeah. You?”
“Several. More than I expected.”
He huffs, soon realizing all of his tech and science displays were not going to fit in the one cart that was left.
“I can help you carry your stuff, the science wing isn’t that far from here, right?” you offer, shifting your things under one arm and grabbing some of his things with the other.
“You don’t have to do that,” he protests, but you’re already propping open the door and gesturing him to come along with a head tilt.
“I really don’t mind. Come on.”
You help him put things away in the different classrooms and offices, careful not to break anything. You’ve never been in this side of the school before, and it’s set up quite differently than the usual classrooms you were in. There’s much more going on than a usual lecture hall, tools and chemicals you don’t dare touch lining the perimeter. Viktor thanks you for your assistance as you finish getting everything in place, and you once again prepare to go your separate ways.
“Wait—” he says before you leave, pulling out his journal and flipping through it. “I wrote down a lot more notes that might be helpful for your project, I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
He hands over the open page for you to read, and your jaw drops. It’s so detailed, every proposal you had broken down to its smallest pieces. He even laid out the budget and resource use and everything it would take to not only build and fund better schools in the Undercity, but also work on housing and overall infrastructure. He even has some theories scribbled on how to keep the air cleaner and fix problems with the fissures.
You can’t believe he’s been thinking about you and everything you said for all this time since you last met.
“Viktor, this is amazing.”
“I know it still may not convince the entire council, but I found your ideas quite inspiring. I hope my calculations can be informative.”
“They certainly are,” your fingers hover over the written words and numbers. “Thank you, Viktor.”
“Of course,” he grins. “I look forward to seeing what you accomplish.”
-
You find yourself running into him a lot more often after that, “accidentally” walking by each other’s offices at least once a week and talking long beyond what you probably should while working. Your soul feels so in tune with his, a phenomenon that surely shouldn’t be happening with someone you haven’t known very long.
Your conversations quickly progress to topics non-work related, his curiosity blooming with every little thing you share with him. Most days after work you simply can’t stop talking to each other, causing you to get home later and later until your roommates start to get nosy.
“I really have to go, Viktor,” you laugh, glancing at the clock that reads three whole hours past the end of your shift. You’ve been chatting about embarrassing Academy stories, reminiscing on both the stark similarities and differences between your experiences.
His eyebrows raise. “Shit, is it really that late?”
“Yeah,” you grab your bag with a sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
-
“You already work too much overtime as it is! What’s so important that you have to stay late every single day?” one of your roommates, Eli, probes, clearly unsatisfied with the half-truth answers you’ve given so far. You don’t really want to tell the full truth just yet, that you’ve been talking with the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, and you don’t experience the passage of time whatsoever when you’re around him. That would sound ridiculous, especially since absolutely nothing will ever come of it. He’s a wonderful colleague, but you’d be foolish to ever expect anything more.
“There’s just a lot to do,” you finally say.
“You need a break, that’s what you need to do,” they emphasize. “How about we go down to The Last Drop tomorrow night? It’s been a while since we’ve seen our friends down there.”
You nod, “Alright, I’ll try not to stay late tomorrow.”
“You better not.”
They glare at you jokingly, and you let out a laugh and exhale of relief.
-
You finish up your notes for the day, whipping your head back and forth to check if the coast is clear. You know yourself and your own weakness—you certainly won’t get out of here on time if you run into Viktor for even a second.
But of course, like clockwork, his familiar tap on your leg with his cane greets you moments later, your heart fluttering to a discomposing degree. Him coming to see you is a routine now, and despite your promise to your friends you are aching to talk to him. You haven’t had a proper night out in months, why is it so hard to just leave?
If any of your racing thoughts are visible on your features, Viktor certainly picked up on them.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, just...long day,” you reply. “But my roommates are taking me out tonight, maybe that will wake me back up.”
“I won’t keep you long, then—”
He’s cut off by Eli calling your name, jaw dropped as they come towards you down the hallway.
“I knew there was something you weren’t telling me!” they chuckle in disbelief. “Working late my ass.”
“I was literally on my way home!”
“I just wanted to come check!”
Your face grows hot. It isn’t abnormal for your roommates to visit you at your job every so often, bringing you important documents you forgot at home or bringing you a treat on your birthday, but under the current circumstances you’re a bit mortified.
They reach out their hand, “I’m Eli, Y/N’s roommate. Who do you think you are?”
“Viktor.” he shakes it, surprisingly not appearing phased by their directness.
“Interesting,” they look him up and down, then turn to you. “So, he’s coming with us, right?”
“Oh, um...I didn’t ask—“
Viktor can’t help but smile at your flustered face.
“If I’m invited, I wouldn’t mind joining.”
-
“I can’t believe you.”
Mumbling under your breath, you enter The Last Drop. Viktor told you he’d meet you there in about an hour, which thankfully gives you some time for some drinks to numb your nerves.
“Look, I honestly don’t know why you didn’t just tell us about him. He seems like a good one.”
“It’s not like that,” you correct them. “He’s not into me like that. We just work on some projects together, that’s all.”
You order a drink from Vander at the bar, gulping it down a little too quickly.
“That kinda night, eh?” he laughs, pouring you another one before you have to ask.
“Yeah.”
You have a few more drinks and shots with your roommates and old Undercity friends, your mind and body entering such a daze that you almost forget Viktor is meeting you there later. You play games together and get teased about some of your adopted topside ways, and you even get back at Eli by pushing them to talk to Sevika, who they ogle at quite literally every time you come to this bar with them. It’s the kind of night where you can be free and careless, temporarily leaving your problems behind in favor of bad decisions.
You have to do a double take when you finally see Viktor arrive. He’s changed out of his Academy uniform, now dressed much more casually and much more like a Zaunite.
“It seems I’m a little late to the fun,” he observes.
“We’re just starting!” you beam, the drunk giggles taking over you.
“How many have you had?”
“I don’t know, like 7 or 8 maybe,” you shrug.
He lifts his cane against you and steers you away from the bar, shaking his head, “I think you’re done for tonight.”
“Fine,” you roll your eyes. “But not because you told me to, because I don’t want to throw up.”
He stays close to you while you stumble back to your friends’ table, chuckling at the slurred introductions you give him. They all accept him into their games and conversations instantly, and you quickly find out Viktor can handle his liquor a lot better than you. He puts all of them to shame, and they love finally having decent competition.
Your friends all whisper their approval to you throughout the night, even though you’ve repeatedly reminded them that nothing is going on. Although, you’re not really helping your case by zoning out every few minutes on his face.
“You have pretty eyes,” you say, staring until you realize what you just said out loud.
“That’s very kind,” he responds hesitantly. “But I’m sure your vision is a bit...tainted.”
“Alcohol doesn’t change color perception, dumbass.” you retort. “Besides, I’m sobering up a little.”
“Well then,” he smiles. “Thank you.”
You sigh, taking a sip of some water and glancing around the room. The bar is close to closing, and most of your friends have left.
“Have you seen Eli recently? I haven’t seen them in a while.”
He snickers, “You didn’t see them go in the back with Sevika?”
“They what?” you jump out of your seat. “Oh they’d better tell me everything.”
“I’m sure they will,” he laughs. “Do you need someone to walk you home, then?”
“Probably. Who knows how long they’ll be.”
-
The buzz has worn off quite a bit now, so thankfully you’re not tripping all over nothing and further embarrassing yourself. Viktor’s beautiful glow in the moonlight is more than enough to accomplish that, your gazes prolonging far longer than they should.
“Thank you for coming tonight, it was fun,” you say, fumbling for your apartment key in your pocket. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that, though.”
“Don’t apologize. It was very amusing.”
“Good.” you exhale. “Just ignore anything weird I said, okay?”
“I’m not sure that’s possible,” he smirks. “Now get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
-
Sleep is certainly what you get, and the next morning before work is full of a head-pounding hangover and chaotic conversation. Your roommates Eli and Chanthou can’t stop laughing about everything that happened, and naturally you’re very nosy about the Sevika situation. Eli tells you every little detail of course, giddy and in disbelief that they managed to make-out with her all night.
“So? Are you guys going to get together again?” you ask on the edge of your seat.
“I hope so.”
“Looks like you both got what you wanted last night,” Chanthou adds.
“Guys, he just walked me home. That’s all.” You’re getting a little annoyed with the constant reminders that your little crush is not, in fact, reciprocated.
“You...don’t remember?” she looks at Eli, then cocks her head at you. “About halfway through the night you were all over him. We just assumed you guys finally confessed.”
You didn’t think you drank enough to blackout, but you definitely don’t remember whatever they’re talking about. Besides, if you really were doing that, why didn’t Viktor say something once you were sobered up?
And what, now you have to see him in the office today, having no idea what you said to him?
“Oh, fuck, guys. What exactly did I do?”
“I don’t know what happened after I went back with Sevika, but before I left you were sitting on his lap on the couch and playing with his hair—”
“WHAT?”
“Wow, you really don’t remember, do you?”
You groan, wishing you didn’t have to go in today. You have a couple important meetings though, so you’ll have to power through. You take some painkillers and grab your things, praying for the first time that you can get through the day without seeing Viktor.
-
Your headache refuses to lessen its throbbing for your entire shift, making the work you usually enjoy completely miserable. You snap at one too many co-workers and find yourself staring at the clock desperately. Why did you agree to drinking on a weeknight again?
Just as you dreaded, you run into Viktor outside, too obviously waiting for you to pretend to ignore him.
“Hey…” you avoid looking into his eyes. “How come you didn’t say anything about what really happened last night?”
“I...wasn’t sure you’d remember,” he confesses. “I suspected you blacked out when you said you didn’t remember seeing Eli leave. And I wasn’t sure you meant what you said anyway.”
“Please, Viktor. Just tell me what I said. All my roommates told me was I couldn’t stop touching you, which I am so sorry about—“
“N-No, don’t be. Everything was consensual, I assure you.” his face flushes. “You just told me you have feelings for me, that’s all. I was going to tell you last night too if you hadn’t said it first.”
Your eyes widen at his words, your heart threatening to leave your chest.
“But it seems you don’t remember, so I can still count this as making the first move, hmm?”
Shivers race down your spine as Viktor leans in, his fingertips grazing your cheek. His lips meet yours softly, your eyes fluttering shut as he presses deeper. His hand remains holding your face when he pulls away, scanning your expression for your reaction.
“I guess the feeling is mutual,” you chuckle, still a bit breathless.
“Quite so, darling.”
-
More Author's Notes: I have a bad habit of getting drunk around guys I like irl bc I literally can’t handle being around hot people sober so that's the inspiration for that situation lol. Also, a part 2 to this is already in the works, it'll be set during Act 1 and probably parts between 1 and 2.
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jjenthusee · 7 months ago
Text
Handshakes And Trash Cans
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
a/n: simply, i wrote a lot and i didn’t wanna release it in parts, so i squeezed the entire fic here. I’ve been having fun writing small excerpts and then they turn into full fics. Jason deserves all the love, so i focused on a neighbors to lovers? No mention of vigilante stuff, but tons of domesticity. With some mentions of big brother Dick (i’m a firm believer that he’s the number one supporter of Jason and just wants the best for him), a bit of steaminess if u squint, and a very devoted Jason. leave me any comments if your comfortable sharing because i wanna know what u guys think XD and if you were crying screaming sliding down the wall like i was (also despite me still being in my repenting era, i wanted to release this as an early apology cause i wanna write another angsty drabble so maybe…maybe not look forward to that) ENJOY (link to the work before this one here)
word count: 7.1k
tags: pining, tons of fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, heartfelt confessions, big brother dick shenanigans
When you got your first two-bedroom apartment, you always thought the dream would only be possible with a roommate. You didn’t have much money during college and transitioning into a full-time job didn’t allow you to freely spend outside of necessities and rent.
But you did it. You got two bedrooms and you didn’t initially know what to do with the extra room. A hobby space, a library, a guest room, or an office? There were too many possibilities.
This was your space, so you combined it all. A basket to keep all of your current craft obsessions next to a bean bag, two full shelves of books from your childhood to your university years, and a desk in the corner to write. It was everything you hoped for. A spot to leave work out of, to decompress and remember the things that made you happy.
You were proud you did it on your own. You could enjoy solitude, your hard work and give time to prioritize yourself.
But an unexpected accomplishment came with an unexpected visitor. A handsome visitor no less. Maybe being an adult wasn’t so bad all the time.
But meeting new people was bad. Or you were bad at it.
When you were up at two in the morning, doing normal two a.m. activities like trying to turn your entire life around, you believed that dragging yourself to one of the community events at the apartment complex would help you get to know your neighbors. Then you could scope the scene to see if you wanted to hide forever or maybe have a friendly acquaintance you acknowledged in the hallway.
Now you wanted neither as you sat, alone, at a bar stool in the well decorated community balcony. Although you were distancing yourself from the main party, you couldn’t help admiring the string lights they hung up, the pristine décor, and new furniture. They clearly went through a grand renovation before you moved in.
Despite your need to socially decompress from all the small talk, you did feel mellow in the warm lighting, listening to the slow music you quietly hummed to.
The view was great from your table, you got to see from the edge of the balcony into the city view. Gotham City did have its moments and lots of outsiders tend to see all the bad that overruns it, but when the city is calm, it has its own virtue.
As you watched the sky line, a man also decided to join in, admiring the city lights. He stood farther from where you sat, leaning against the glass and steel railing. He was probably distancing himself from the party like you were. You could only see half of his face from your current angle and distance, but he was…charming. Broody and charming.
Gotham did have the best views, but staring was bad. A little bit of hope crept into your mind at the thought of a handsome neighbor living in the same apartment building.
Another pretty man joined him. Wow, you never realized that Gotham had a lot of great views. Maybe you needed to get out more, enjoy the scenery a bit.
The two beautiful men seemed to know each other. One more talkative than the other, but they seemed close. It was amusing watching the way they contrasted one another, a man clearly dragged to be here tonight and the other fueling himself with the night vibe.
As much as you wanted to continue to be nosy, maybe it was time to call it a night, it was late and you got enough of your pretty boy fill for the evening. Which would have been the plan if you didn’t make eye contact with the second model that blessed your eyes.
You nervously observed the charismatic man walking toward you with a bright friendly smile.
“Hello, I just wanted to ask if my brother—the tall very alone one standing over there—could be tall and very alone over here, in this seat.” He dragged the stool out from underneath the glass table you were resting your arms on.
You looked at the empty seat across from you, then glanced at his presumed brother you were staring at earlier. He clearly didn’t agree to this sudden turn of events as he watched the two of you talk and he looked more mortified than you were. It was…cute. It brought a smile to your face.
“Well, your tall and very alone brother looks scared of me.” You glanced back to the man still holding the chair out.
Your comment must have been hysterical at the way the man was almost leaning forward from laughing. His dimples fully visible and his hair falling forward. Everything he did looked stunning.
“I promise he’s friendlier than he looks.” He breathlessly held his stomach still amused at your first impression of his broody brother. “He’s tall, alone, and friendly if it helps.”
You thought for a moment, debating on your options: leave or sit with a handsome man in possibly awkward silence.
“I don’t mind being alone together.” You smiled more, giving into the curiosity of the man leaning against the railing.
You were a simple human and apparently the man in front of you was too when he ushered his brother over. A man much too large for the bar stool, but you got a good look at his full face.
The curls, defined dark eyebrows, a white streak. His face had definition, a particular beauty that differed from his brother. Not less beautiful, but you were more drawn to the rougher look.
You definitely made the right choice.
Before you had any time to say anything, the conspirator left to go mingle with another bunch of attendees. You watched him hop from one conversation to another, you didn’t know whether he knew them or he just met them like you had five seconds ago.
“I think social anxiety is scared of him.” You laughed in disbelief to your new companion.
“Trust me, you have no idea. I’ve seen him wear some of the most horrendous outfits in public, willingly. What’s worse is—I hate to admit it—but he can pull it off, in a horrifying way.” The stranger shook his head, no mortification in his voice, and you almost unconsciously lulled to the sound. “But he means well, uh, sorry he dragged you into whatever he��s planning. I could leave you alone, he tends to unintentionally be pushy.”
Oh? Broody, charming and thoughtful. Was the bar low or were you easily impressed? Maybe the husky voice is blurring the distinction.
“No, it’s okay, he seemed worried about both us being ‘very alone’ as he put it.” You spoke, glancing into the eyes of the man in front of you. Greenish blue. A wave of amusement washed over you and with the most serious expression you could muster, you decided to test the waters. “From one alone person to another, let’s be alone together.” You reached out your hand to introduce yourself.
He coyly smiled at your formal gesture, leaning in to mimic your movement. You were both leaning onto the glass table, close enough to see the slight scaring on his face. Faint enough to see them only if you were close enough, wanting to drag your thumb across them.
His warm hand engulfed yours. Calloused. A firm handshake.
“Jason, alone man, and been alone for twenty-one years.” Jason gave you the most breathtaking smile, never letting go of your hand. “I’m looking forward to this opportunity…alone, of course.”
You laughed, almost giggled from how charming this man was.
“It’s been twenty-three alone years and still counting.” You mischievously smirked, glad he joined in on your antics. “I’m glad to let you join the team. I expect great things from you.”
“And I hope to learn a lot from my superiors, I’ll be in your care.” Jason’s voice was so low at the end of his statement. It caught you off guard that you almost missed the way he held onto your hand just a tiny bit longer than you anticipated. So short that you felt like you imagined it.
The warmth still lingered on your hands after you let go.
You were so engrossed in Jason’s company and Jason only had the eyes to look at you, that neither of you could see the man, who schemed your interaction, was beaming from watching the connection spark.
That single handshake and nonchalant agreement that you shared with an unknown neighbor actually kept it’s promise. That evening, you found out that Jason lived on the same floor as you did, that his brother visited him a lot, and he took out the trash on Wednesdays.
He didn’t tell you the last one, but you found out the last bit of information by accident when you bumped into him on your way back from the trash room. You thought the evening you met Jason would be the first and last time you would see him, but your laziness prevented you from taking out the garbage on your designated day and you were graced with seeing his lopsided smile as you passed him in the hallway.
You were so giddy from the surprise and seeing Jason’s captivating smile, you tested your luck and took the trash out on the same day and time the following week.
You listened out in the hallway, trying to hear a door open, it was honestly crazy behavior, but you continued your slow pace, but with no tall alone man in sight and a defeated sigh, you walked to the trash room with no Jason by your side and swung the door open.
Like a beam of light cascading over you, the man in question was standing in front of you, opening the trash shoot. You never thought a man in a trash room would be sexy, but with his shirt tightly straining on his body, a flushed face, and his muscles eye level with you, anything was possible.
May whoever told this gorgeous man to live at this apartment complex eat delicious meals, have working phone chargers, and a lifetime of happiness.
Somewhere off in the far distance, Dick sneezed.
You almost forgot the reason you were in the trash room after you set your eyes on Jason’s post-workout state. He kept the shoot open for you and with unsteady steps you threw your trash bag to disappear to the unknown. You were trying to not trip up with Jason’s defined arm holding the handle open and the close proximity of his chest to your face.
Maybe you need to go on a run. Why were you acting like this right now?
“Hey, neighbor.” Jason casually spoke to you. His voice felt airy, probably winding down from the exercise. “You come around here often?”
You cleared your mind from any thoughts, the trash room was not the place to start flirting, but what were you supposed to do when Jason started it? Or what you assumed to be flirtatious conversation.
“Nah, I’m new to town.” You glanced over to him, leaning your neck back to grasp his full height. Jason hadn’t missed the movement, combing your collarbone with his gaze. “But, I might stay a while.” You melodically spoke.
Before your stare and voice settled in the air, you stepped to the side to add a little distance between the two of you. Pulling away from the tension.
“Just so I can continue my alone things.” You explained trying to smoothen the mood with a playful tone.
Jason stayed quiet like he was contemplating something in his mind. Then he let the trash shoot close and with small steps the both of you walked out into the hallway.
“What alone things do you have planned tomorrow?” Jason nonchalantly asked, so casually you almost thought you heard wrong.
“Uh, work in the morning, but nothing planned for the evening, I wanted to try out a new cookie recipe.”
“Do you wanna come over to my place—I wanted to cook something for dinner, but it just hasn’t worked out yet. Maybe you can bring those cookies?” Jason didn’t look at you, suddenly interested in the pure white walls of the hallway. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.
You were stunned. How was such a beautiful man asking you to come over to his place with the promise of him cooking you dinner and all you had to do was bring your shitty cookies?
“I want to warn you that my cookies aren’t award worthy. I just follow the recipe, they’re nothing special.” You wanted to ensure that Jason was really inviting you over.
“Then I can’t wait to try your ‘nothing special’ cookies.” He reassured.
You spent the entire afternoon making sure your measurements were precise, not a lump of flour above the rim of the measuring utensils you haven’t brought out in a while. Usually you winged the ingredients, not really worried about the quality too much since it was just you.
But now you wanted to cry.
How did you properly fold ingredients, were you whisking right, maybe you should’ve got the too expensive butter from the store?
It took three full hours to prep, bake, and try your hand at cutely packaging the cookies. It took four attempts to arrange the cookies in a way that didn’t make you want to cancel the dinner.
But after a few pep talks in the mirror and reassuring yourself that this was a hang out and not a date, then you were able to walk over to his unit number.
You hesitantly knocked on the door, five minutes after seven because you would torture yourself thinking about arriving right on the dot before you fell asleep tonight and every night after.
Your worries left your mind when you saw Jason open the door in an apron.
“You’re just in time, I’m ready to plate everything.” He beamed.
Your heart might not be able to survive tonight. But it was just dinner.
You awkwardly handed Jason your tin of homemade cookies. You tried to limit your snooping around his apartment when he told you to wait for him to get the drinks, but curiosity was coursing through you once you realized that you were being invited into a part of Jason’s life and home.
You were no longer going to be strangers. You didn’t know if this qualified to make you friends, but you knew you were two people about to eat dinner together. A dinner he made and cookies you made as thanks.
Once you were ready to eat, you stared at your plate filled with spices, fresh veggies, a meticulously cooked entrée and a…homemade lemonade? You stared up at Jason, watching you look at his food.
“I feel like bringing you cookies isn’t enough.” Although you felt guilty, you took a bite because you didn’t want to look at one more second of Jason’s shining eyes.
You could only sigh, which made Jason worry.
“I think I’m going to name my children after you.”
Jason chuckled at your exaggeration.
“I’d be honored.”
The rest of the meal was relaxing. You didn’t have to force yourself around Jason. Your conversation flowed easily and you were interested in learning about the man you met on the balcony.
After many trips to the other side of the apartment building and a couple of deep cleanings of your apartment, you got accustomed to having Jason walk around your kitchen, rummaging the cabinets and organizing your spices the way he likes it.
One shared meal after another. Sometimes several times a week or spaced out further when work got busy. It was nice to look forward to a meal with Jason.
Now you had text messages from him on your phone, a designated mug for him, and a couple of his snacks that he wanted you to try.
You traded recipes. Jason gave you his favorites and you mainly just gave him ones you were curious about, not very fond of your kitchen.
After several failed attempts at convincing him that it was your kitchen that was the problem and not your ability to cook, he came over more to prove you wrong.
Now you sat at your kitchen island to watch him concentrate on mixing an assortment of spices and herbs while you memorized as much of his face and hands as possible. The TV was on, but you had no interest in whatever movie played.
“I have a confession to make.” You sadly looked at Jason.
He glanced over from the pan on the stove to your face. Confusion in his eyes from your sudden change in tone.
“I actually don’t really like cookies.” You threw your hands up in a guilty pose. “Now it’s eating me inside that I had to give those to you when I first came over to your place.”
Jason hummed and tilted his head with one of his eyebrows raised in a teasing manner.
“So, the guilt finally got to you, huh?” He grinned moving his attention back to the food cooking in front of him. His nonchalant voice resonating around you.
“I can’t sleep at night anymore.” You exaggerated, walking a little closer to his side. “Well, once you became my personal chef I realized I had to make it up to you.” You could smell the food better now that you were standing next to Jason.
“I can see the guilt in your eyes.” He flatly said watching you eyeing the food.
“We always eat when we hang out and I can make simple foods, but if I can follow a recipe I was going to suggest if I should cook something, but you are also here to prove me wrong that my kitchen isn’t cursed. Which it is by the way—”
“Your kitchen is not cursed.” He warmly scolded you. “I’ll come over everyday to prove it if I have to.”
You always had to reset your brain when he used that tone with you. It just felt too…sincere. Too intimate.
You wanted him to come over everyday. You took a breath.
“I make more money than when I was still in college, but I don’t think I can afford that many grocery bills.” You teased him. “Why do you think I go over to your place?”
You wanted to evade any serious topics and humor was the best at evading. You were good at avoidance.
“So, I’m a free pantry to you?” His eyebrows rose, questioning you. “I knew you were using me!” He faked a flabbergasted voice like he just heard his life-long partner declare they were cheating on him for months.
He turned off the stove, covering the pan with the lid and turning to face you.
“I didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened.” You gave him your best dejected look. “I promise I’ll pick up more shifts to help restock your fridge, but let me just taste your homemade ravioli one last time.” You begged as he moved closer to you, closing you in with the kitchen island behind your back.
His height and broad shoulders easily caved you in. You gulped watching his face lean down and inch closer.
“If I can’t trust you with my fridge, you don’t deserve my ravioli.” He lowered his voice, gazing down at you with a look that made you breathless. You couldn’t move with the counter behind you and Jason hovering dangerously close to you. “But, you can make it up to me.” He brought his thumb to your chin, barely a wisp of touch.
“How?” You stammered, wondering if the bit was still going.
“Let’s go to the farmer’s market tomorrow.” His hand moved from your face to the edge of the counter, close enough to touch your side and his voice returning to normal, but he didn’t pull away.
“Okay, uh, I’m off tomorrow.” You stared, darting your eyes between Jason’s eyes. Trying to adjust to the tension that was radiating off of him.
“Good, foods ready.” Jason pulled away, moving to the cabinet to grab your glass plates. He was too familiar with the layout of your kitchen.
That night you quickly learned how easy Jason was able to turn the tables. Your racing heart and shallow breathing were the only evidence of it ever happening.
The heat beat down on you. Of all days for Gotham to finally clear it’s clouds, it chose today.
Although you weren’t fond of the warm air, you liked watching all the colorful tents, the food on display, and seeing the various local products. Everything looked intricately cared for and it brought a proud feeling to contribute to the locals.
“Bags?” Jason asked, going through his mental checklist.
“Check.” You raised the reusable grocery bags in your hands.
“Hats?”
“Check.” You nudged the baseball cap on your head.
“Money?” Jason smirked.
You grabbed onto Jason’s bicep. Giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Check.��� You grinned up at Jason looking at the placement of your hand. “Now let’s go!” You gleefully led him to the first tent with your hand still on him.
You had no idea how you ended up carrying all the bags, but you were trying to ease your mind that this could be considered a date. Jason didn’t call it that and you never asked to clarify, but you couldn’t help it itching at your brain.
You didn’t want to label anything, out of respect for Jason and what he wanted, but you noticed he had started to touch you more and the contact makes you giddy that you had to put all of your focus on making sure you don’t drop his produce.
You stood by Jason, looking at various jars of loose leaf tea. He was smelling all the aromas, helping to move the jars to your nose, so you could smell them too. He insisted on helping you since you refused to give him a bag, but you also didn’t have a free hand to grab the jar.
After a couple more sniff tests, he settled on a jar of prickly pear tea, a lemon-ginger flavor, and he was contemplating on some earl grey cookies. You were watching him, entranced by his concentration. His brows lowered, a small line appearing between his brows. You could see more of his face with a cap on, no messy curls on his forehead and his side profile was really something.
You broke out of your trance when he offered you a piece of the earl-grey cookie, holding it in front of your mouth.
“They’re free samples, try it.” He looked at you, waiting patiently. “I know you don’t like cookies, but these are made with the tea sold here. I saw all the tea you keep in your pantry, so I think you would like it.”
In your lost state at this man in front of you, that could’ve sounded like a proposal to you at that point.
You inched forward, opening your mouth for the cookie. You hesitated at the intimacy, but how could you tell that face ‘no.’ Staring at the small piece of cookie, baked a quarter of the original size they sold, you also saw all the scars that littered Jason’s hands. Many healed over, but you could see the faded lines.
You dangerously wanted to kiss each one.
You grabbed the piece in your mouth, but you didn’t realize that you accidentally touched Jason’s finger with your lip.
You quickly glanced at Jason, but his eyes were glossed over. His attention focused on your mouth.
What a sight.
You chewed and hummed. They were good. Jason cleared his throat at your approval.
“I’ll get a bag and the tea. I’ll be back. You can put the bags down for a bit because there’s a small line.” He quickly turned around, a small tinge of redness left on his ears with his head turned away from you.
You watched his back walk away, then settled the bags down to give your arms a break.
“Excuse me, I just wanted to tell you that you two are adorable.” A honeyed voice spoke trying to grab your attention.
Your head whipped back to the table of teas. An older lady restocking the various collection had a mischievous look in her eye. You hadn’t noticed her there at all.
“The way your boyfriend looks at you, I haven’t seen a look like that since my husband passed many years ago.” The lady gushed.
“Wha, no, I—“ You stammered, trying to clear up the confusion, but your flustered face must’ve amused the woman.
“That made my day, so I wanted to give you this lemon bar we just started selling. Go on, take it and share it with him.” She pressured you to take the free treat. You were too speechless to try to refuse it and insist that you pay before she placed it in your hand herself and she walked off to help another customer wanting a sample.
Your face felt hot and you hoped it cleared before Jason came back, but before you could fan the redness away he appeared next to you with his purchase.
“Hey, you okay? Where’d you get that lemon—”
“Let’s get some lunch!” You grabbed the bags and nudged him to the food trucks lining the edge of the market, trying to hide your face with your hat and leaving the comments from the woman behind.
“Wow, this might be the best empanada I’ve ever had.” You chomped at your lunch.
Jason found a waffle place and settled on a berry topping. It was wrapped perfectly to fit in his hands.
You sat across from Jason at an outdoor table with an umbrella to shield you from the sun, sitting away from the rush of people lining up to also eat. The midday lunch rush got to you and you wanted to have a bit of privacy before you went back home.
“How long have you known about this place?” You asked Jason, a slight breeze grazing your face. Watching a kid nudging his dad for a piece of banana bread he found on one of the vendor’s tables.
“Last year? It was recent, but I’ve heard it’s been around for a while. Maybe over five years?” Jason took a bite of his waffle.
“I wish I had found this during my university years. This is a bit out of the way of my walk route, but it would’ve been awesome to browse with my friend.” You saw the boy you were watching earlier smiling wide as he held his dad’s hand and the banana loaf as big as his head. You smiled at the interaction.
“But I probably would’ve sent my friend into shock.” You continued, the boy and his dad disappearing into the crowd. “I wasn’t very social during my university years.” You glanced at Jason, his waffle gone and he was neatly folding the wrapper.
“My friend would joke that I would only meet someone if they magically met me at home. Like that was the only way I could score a date.” You pitifully joked at the old memory. “Sounds absurd doesn’t it, but she wasn’t wrong—“
You saw a shift in Jason’s eyes. He had an oddly serious look, it stopped you from talking and you sat up straighter, wondering what he was thinking about.
You waited, watching him internally fight with whatever he wanted to say.
“That’s not true.” He hesitated. “You’re funny, you’re able to connect with others, you’re a great listener, and you’re honest. You don’t have the heart to be mean to others and your facial expressions are adorable.” His voice rose the longer he defended you. His serious expression further amplified with his furrowed eyebrows. A part of his face obscured by his cap, but you felt the raw emotion emanating from him.
“Anyone would be enamored with you, even if they met you in the hallway or walking down the street.” He puffed, crushing the waffle paper on the table.
You were surprised, glancing over at Jason, watching him get this frustrated. You realized you’ve never seen him this…emotional and he refused to look at you.
The sudden development and his clear thoughts about you stunned you. You joked with Jason how alone you both were, it even brought you together thanks to his brother, but you didn’t really know how alone he truly was. You don’t think he really understood how lonely you were too.
You enjoyed your shared meals, you craved his time and attention.
You got so used to his presence that the days you didn’t see him, you felt like you were dreaming. Waiting to wake up when you heard that familiar knock on your door.
Your heart raced and you hoped he cherished your time together like you did.
You didn’t want to assume his witty personality as being flirtatious, you didn’t want to misunderstand any of his intentions because he was funny, charming, and awkward in ways that you just wanted to grab his face and protect him.
You didn’t particularly need Jason as your person, that felt too selfish, but you also wanted to be somebody to him. Either next to him or from a distance.
A friend, a companion, a lover. The label didn’t really matter to you because you were open to any role. A lover wasn’t more significant than a friend would be. They both had the same foundation, to care for someone unconditionally.
You convinced yourself that you were happy alone, but not until recently you realized you weren’t living. You were asleep in the routine of life.
And when Jason entered your life, you felt like you woke up for the first time.
Like he was the only one who could wake you up.
All you knew was that you wanted to be there. Through his pain, his suffering, his happiest moments, his accomplishments, his anger. To be his person.
To also help him wake up.
Your silent contemplation made Jason panic.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get worked up—“
“I think apartment community events count.” You softly whispered, indecisive of whether you wanted him to hear you or not.
“What—“
“And secret meetings in the trash room too.” Your voice meek.
You were shaking, too tense to look at his reaction to your words.
“Despite what she told me, I still managed to meet you. And I was able to have some of the best meals. I’ve never laughed as hard as I have when we joked. I’m able to try new things.” You raised your head, overwhelmed by your feelings, but you hoped to convey yourself properly to Jason. “I’ve never felt so comfortable and safe with anyone else.”
Jason looked at you wide eyed and speechless, his mouth slightly agape. You took the disbelief as a sign to continue.
“I’m able to be all those things that you said because I’m with you.” Your voice filled with more resolve the more concrete your feelings felt, the more sure you became. You squeezed your eyebrows together, complete sincerity in your gaze, your heart filled with so much emotion.
But your eyebrows relaxed once you saw Jason’s face turn red. His ears a crimson shade. Before you could engrave it in your memory, he tilted his head down, covering his face with the front of his baseball cap.
“Wait, wait, wait—I didn’t expect this.” Jason rubbed a hand down his face, but the redness contrasted the skin of his hand. “You were so shy every time I tried to push the boundaries between us, but now your directly confessing everything at once.”
He stopped rubbing his face and rested his hand on the table. Meeting your gaze, a tint of red still on his skin but not as deep as before.
“I’ve been trying to get closer to you. I’ve been hoping to run into you since we first talked on the balcony. When we met in the trash room, I purposely tried to meet you again. I’ve looked forward to every meal I’ve cooked for you and although I haven’t been clear about my feelings, I didn’t want to pressure or rush you.” Jason took a breath, closing his eyes for a moment.
When they opened again, his eyes were completely focused on you.
“I want us to be more than friends…I want to be able to come over when I miss you, fold laundry together, buy you things when they remind me of you, I want you to call me when you need car maintenance.” He kept his eyes trained on you, but his voice faltered. “I want to hold your hand and to kiss you. I want us to go on dates.”
You raised your hand to the table, placing your hand over Jason’s, but he quickly flipped your hands so he was holding yours a little more firmly.
“I want to know if you snore while you sleep, to have your things at my place, so I see you in every inch of my life. I want you to know how much I’ve fallen for you.”
“I want that too.” Your voice trembled. “I’ve been wanting to hold your hand while we walked today and I want you to come over more often.” You choked as Jason leaned in to caress your face with his hand. A sickening sweet touch that you never knew you would get to feel. You cupped your hand over his.
“I’m so happy. I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while.” Jason whispered to you, his voice so honey sweet.
You looked up to him. A gentle gaze reflecting back.
“I probably look like a mess right now.” You shakily laughed.
“Of course not, you’re breathtaking, sweetheart.” Jason rubbed a thumb on your cheek, completely enamored by you.
“As much as I would love to hear you continue, I’m worried about the stuff you bought and this heat.” You tried to focus, but the smooth touch of Jason was difficult to ignore.
“Yeah, we probably need to make our way back.”
Despite his words, he didn’t move. He lingered on your face a while longer before he looked at all the bags he accumulated this morning.
“Will you let me help you carry some of the bags?” He asked. “I also want to hold your hand on the way back.”
You beamed at him. Reaching for his hand as you stood up.
Your walk back was refreshing.
You were exhausted from the intense flux of emotions you released, but Jason’s grip on your hand stabilized you.
You couldn’t stop smiling, the heat no longer bothering you. You swung your interlaced hands to the motion of your steps and Jason let you do what you wanted as long as you still held on.
When you got to the entrance of your apartment building, you were graced with the AC hitting you. Your hair would definitely be messed up from the sweat and your cap.
You waited in front of the elevator doors as it descended from the last person that used it. The lobby was empty, except from the usual leasing office workers inhabiting the space, but it was just you and Jason off to the side.
As you glanced around, making sure the employees were occupied, you used your grip on Jason’s hand to pull him down enough for you to kiss his cheek. A little awkward with your cap in the way, but you were able to surprise Jason.
He stayed hunched forward, shifting his face to look at you closely and digest what you did.
Ding. The elevator doors opened and you pulled Jason in the elevator.
You felt accomplished as you pushed the button to your floor. When you moved back to Jason’s side, you looked up to him, but he grabbed your face.
His hand pushed your cap up, so he could lean in and kiss you. His hat also moving up at the angle he was in.
You closed your eyes, disoriented at the feeling and because Jason completely blocked your view of the elevator, so you only heard the doors close.
Lost in the feeling and the movement of his lips, you dropped the bags in your hand to grab at Jason’s sleeve, wanting to grasp at something.
You’ve never felt so desperate to get Jason even closer and he must have understood or he craved it more because he pushed you back against the elevator wall. You felt the cold metal against your back and you gasped.
Jason devoured the sound, motivating him to hold your waist, but it wasn’t enough for him. He crouched a little lower to grasp you behind your legs to lift you fully off the ground, inching your body up, higher and more level with his face.
The angle changed and you easily wrapped your arms around his neck while simultaneously wrapping your legs around his waist. The moment intensifying as you pulled at his hair below his hat and you swallowed the low groan that left his mouth. You were drawn to the deep sound and the feeling of the hum you felt on your mouth.
You were practically flush against his body and you were down to your last few breaths, but you didn’t want to pull your face away from Jason.
You nipped at his lower lip and he lifted his hands to cup the sides of your face, digging his fingers into your sweaty hair and rubbing the back of your ears. You opened your mouth wanting to feel more of him when you heard someone loudly clear their throat.
You pulled away, shoving Jason by his shoulders as he whipped his head to see where the voice came from. You fell to your feet trying to lean against the wall with the sudden motion, hair a mess with your cap lopsided as you looked past Jason to see Dick standing there with a hand on his waist and the other holding the elevator door open. He didn’t look at the two of you directly, more like a lost look to the side.
You breathlessly adjusted your cap as you frantically smoothed out your shirt.
Jason pulled his cap down as he sighed then redirected his attention to you, gently reaching out to you to smooth out some of your hair and help you stand up straighter. Then he grabbed the bags you both dropped on the floor as he turned around to face his brother.
“I didn’t know you were coming over. You should’ve texted.” Jason walked past his brother, annoyance laced in his voice.
“I did.” Dick replied. He looked at you then followed after Jason. “But it seems you were a little occupied.” Amusement coating his voice and visible in the way he walked.
“I see you’re getting to know your neighbors very well.” Dick teased, a giant grin on his face. “I’m glad.”
What a way to meet Jason’s brother again after all this time. You wanted the floor to open up and swallow you away from the lack of awareness you had to make out with Jason in public.
You couldn’t decide if it was worse that a stranger could’ve saw you or that Dick was the one who did.
“Yeah, yeah, come inside.” Jason unlocked the door to his apartment. You nervously followed after the two.
“No seriously, I’m glad you two continued to see each other.” A genuine comment from Dick. “I’ve never seen you so comfortable with someone, Jaybird.”
A small hum from Jason as he set the bags down onto the counter.
With no indication that he wanted to speak further, you decided to talk.
“I’m sorry we’re meeting again like this. I promise I’m usually a better influence.” Hopefully your lighthearted tone would give off a better impression than the one on the elevator.
“Ha! I know you are because,” Dick moved in closer, lowering his voice. “This is the most behaved I’ve seen Jason in months.”
“Alright, enough, dickwa—Dick,” Jason cleared his throat. “But we just got back and I want to shower. It was too damn hot today.”
“Oh, I bet it was—“
“Thank you! Never come by again. See you. Good Night.” Jason raised his voice, shoving his brother out the door.
“No, please, I swear I’m done!” Dick pleaded as he was trying to hang onto the door frame, but Jason closed the door before he could start to beg.
“Are you sure he’ll be alright?” You questioned Jason.
He didn’t bother to answer your question as he closed the space between you and wrapped his arms around you, resting his forehead on your shoulder and letting his hands intertwine around your waist, falling onto your lower back.
Jason signed into your shirt. The feeling slightly tickling you.
“I wasn’t done earlier.” He whispered against you. “Then that dickhead had to interrupt.”
You laughed, loving the pouty sound of his voice.
You embraced him back, leaning your head against his.
“I think the elevator interrupted you.” You rubbed his back in soothing circles.
You closed your eyes for a moment, letting a silence fall in Jason’s apartment before your curiosity got to you.
“Jaybird?”
“It’s a nickname.”
“It’s cute.”
“Enough about him, we need to put away all the stuff we bought.” Jason lifted his head to sullenly look at the numerous bags.
“That reminds me.” You let go of him to dig around the bags, trying to find your earlier gift. “I was told to share this with you by an older woman who thought my boyfriend was adorable.”
Jason shifted behind you. Closing his hands on the edges of the counter, both of his arms on your sides. Once you found the lemon bar, you turned your body, careful to lean against the counter with Jason’s body still in front of you, around you practically.
“It’s a new product. She said I could have it for making her day, but I have to thank you because we wouldn’t have gotten it without you.”
You opened the wrapper, breaking a piece off to feed to Jason.
“How does it taste?”
Jason lingered. You anticipated what he thought, but he leaned forward to kiss you. You held onto the lemon bar, but lowered it the more heated your kiss became. The tangy taste invading your mouth.
“Amazing.”
774 notes · View notes
starrihan · 1 month ago
Text
Suck On It - (Taesan Fic)
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-> Pairing: Han Taesan x gender neutral! Reader
-> Plot: where a lazy weekend spent on the couch leads to you sucking off your best friend because of a ring pop
-> Genre: smut, food play, indirect cum eating, sub tendencies! Taesan, he gets a little harsh towards the end, oral (m receiving), neck kissing/ sucking
-> Warnings: mentions of food
-> Word Count: 2,111
-> Notes: woke up and wrote this in 2 hours. Happy new years! This was so fun to write so I hope you guys enjoy it as well! Have a wonderful day~
༄ ༄ ༄
You find yourself sprawled out on the couch of your apartment of which you shared with your best friend and roommate, Dongmin. You lazily scroll on your phone, the weekend not providing any entertainment to you. The only thing you could say that was bringing you any sort of joy, was the sweet treat you had sitting on your index finger– a blue raspberry ring pop. You sigh as you bring the confection to your mouth, lips wrapping around it and sucking on it lightly.
“You’re not sucking dick why do you look so into that ring pop?”
His grating voice is irritating to your ears. While he is your best friend, you always rolled your eyes at his stupid and middle-school-esque comments. 
“It’s not your dick so why do you care so much, Dongmin?”
You ask with the same amount of grit in your voice as he did. You suck and release the sweet with a loud ‘pop,’ laughing at the disgusted expression his face is displaying. 
“First of all, get a room. Second of all, I asked you to call me by Taesan!”
He stomps his feet like a child, huffing as he walks over to where you’re laying on the couch. He rudely throws your legs out of the way, plopping himself down on the new free seat he’s created for himself.
“Rude,” you huff as you fix yourself, sitting up on the couch and putting your phone on the table. You proceed to lick and suck on the ring pop before answering him.
“And I’m not calling you Taesan. I’m used to calling you by your real name.”
“But that’s my stage name for the band! I need to get used to people calling me by Taesan and it starts with you.”
“Please, like you’re gonna make it out of this college band and have millions of fangirls screaming ‘Taesan!’”
“That is, in fact, what will happen if you start calling me by Taesan.”
The bickering and childish antics was very on brand for the two of you. Of course you were best friends and you loved each other, but not a single day could go by without the two of you pulling each other’s tails. 
“Whatever, ‘Taesan,” you say in a dramatically mocking tone, “Now go away, you’re disrupting my peace and quiet.”
“Gimmie a lick.”
“What?” 
You deadpan, almost taken aback at the audacity of his question.
“Of your ring pop. Gimmie a lick I wanna try that flavor.”
“No? Get your own?”
He leans in, trying to get a lick but you move your hand back. His head almost falls into your chest, but he doesn’t let that stop him from trying again, reaching above you as you raised your hand over your head.
“Dongmin, stop!”
“Only if you call me Taesan!”
He laughs, grabbing your wrist and trying to pull it down to his mouth. You refuse, fighting him as you try to stretch higher, using your body to push him off. You find yourselves at this for about a minute, until he has you awkwardly pinned diagonally against the couch, smirking as you finally give up and let him grab your hand with the ring pop secured onto it. He grabs your hand gently, folding his fingers over yours as he brings it to his lips, sucking on the juicy, sweet crystal as you sigh in defeat. He looks into your eyes as he sucks the candy, the air shifting a bit from its previously playful state to one that's more suffocating and hot.
“You said you wanted to lick it, not suck the life out of it,”
You retort, gently dialing your hand back and out of his mouth, careful not to knock his teeth on the hard candy, cheeks heating up at the sight of Taesan, almost lewdly, popping his lips off of the candy. You look away from him and you can hear him smirk. 
“My bad, it just tastes so good. The blue raspberry tastes good with your strawberry lip balm on it.”
You whip your head towards him at his comment. Taesan has always been a little flirty with you, but that's all it ever was. So you weren’t expecting the comment that came out of his mouth to be as bold as this one. 
“Freak,”
You say, examining the ring pop that now has his saliva covering it. But you were never one to back down from a challenge. You look into his eyes as you bring the ring pop to your mouth, slowly licking up the height of it before pushing it past your lips, exaggerating the sucking noises while maintaining eye contact. 
His smirk falters as he gulps, a small tent in his pants forming at your sultry actions. 
“Y/N…”
“What's wrong, Taesan? You got what you wanted…”
The use of his stage name gets to him, his mind becoming foggy with thoughts of the name spilling from your mouth as he pounds into you over and over again. It’s almost as if you could tell the thoughts that were racing in his mind as you bring the ring pop back up to his lips, pushing it slightly against them to get him to open up again. He knew the game you were playing. He also knew that there was no going back from this if he decided to open his mouth. But the Dongmin you knew never played it safe.
He opens his lips as he takes the treat into his mouth, sucking on it as you take your other hand and rake it through his hair, playing with it. You couldn’t deny your attraction towards him. He was seriously good-looking, but that's all it was– physical attraction.
He takes the chance to run his hands up and down your body, releasing the ring pop from his lips and sitting up straight, peering his eyes into yours. You sit back up as well, not breaking eye contact as your mouth moves before your brain even has the chance to register the words coming out. 
“I wanna do to you what I was doing to this ring pop.”
If he wasn't already hard enough, he was now as he stood up, eyes glimmering with need as you sat directly in front of him, hard-on straining against his sweats. You look up at him, bringing your face closer to his clothed boner, feeling him through it with your lips.
“I should’ve known you were gonna be a tease,”
He winces at the contact, gently streaming his fingers through your hair. You pull his pants and boxers down, letting his dick spring out into the open air as you watch it, mesmerized by its build. Taesan was tall and lean so you didn’t expect him to be packing as much as he did. But your shy staring has him blushing and looking away from your figure.
“If you’re gonna be staring can you at least do something? This is embarrassing…”
You giggle as you suck the ring pop again, collecting its flavor and letting it coat the inside of your mouth before bringing it close to his dick.
“I should’ve known you were gonna be impatient,”
You jest, bringing your lips just to the tip and sucking on it ever so lightly. He feels himself jolt at your tongue flattening at the base of his cock. You smirk against it, knowing that you’ve found his sensitive spot. You continue your movements, dragging your tongue along the length of his dick, starting from the base to the tip. He lets out a long groan as his gentle streaming of your hair turns into a harsh grip. 
You alternate, sucking the ring pop for flavor before going back to his hard length, taking as much as you can into your mouth and jerking the rest. His whimpers and broken moans go straight to your core, feeling yourself get slick with need. 
“I'm close…”
He draws out as he lets himself fully relax in your mouth. You have an idea, taking him out of your mouth and sucking on the ring pop again, smirking as he complains. Your lips have been stained blue from the sugary treat and you push his length up towards his stomach, bringing your lips to his balls. You lick and nip at them, before pulling away with a victorious smirk.
“Guess you could say I gave you blue balls.”
He rolls his eyes at your laugh that has you gripping your stomach. You’re about to speak again before feeling a sharp pain in the back of your head, his grip on your hair tighter than ever as he brings your face back to his throbbing length.
“You’ve had your fun now give me mine,”
His submissive behavior up until now was all you had expected from him, but the change in his demeanor shocked you, and ultimately resulted in you rubbing your thighs together.  You shut your eyes as you wince, taking his whole length into your mouth. He moves your head back and forth, bringing you impossibly close to his pelvis as your nose brushes against the faint happy trail down his stomach. Your chokes and gags only fuel him further, now holding your head in place as he thrusts his hips into your mouth. You grip his hips, fingers digging into them as tears brim your eyes, threatening to spill out at his harsh movements and your lack of airflow.
“Fuck Y/N I feel so good around your mouth. Just a little more and I'll have my seed spilling down your throat and you’d better take all of it.”
His filthy words have you more motivated than ever, determined to take it until he cums down your throat. You try to calm yourself down, breathing through your nose as sweat drips down your forehead. You open up your eyes to look up at him once again to find him already looking down at you, silently pleading to let him cum. You take the chance to hollow your cheeks, tightening the grip your mouth had around him and using your tongue to lick where you can. The combined actions are too much for Taesan, roughly thrusting into your throat one last time before stilling his hips, letting his seed coat the back of your throat deliciously.  
He pulls your head back softly, your jaw falling slack as your try your best to relax the bones before closing your mouth. 
“I’m sorry if I got a little harsh there… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He grabs you a bottle of water and opens it for you, bringing it up to your lips. You snatch the bottle out of his hand and drink it yourself. 
“I don’t need you to help me drink water. I sucked your dick I’m not incapable. Plus, I liked how rough you were being. I was starting to think I would have to be the dominant one.”
“Sorry for wanting to help you out after I almost broke your jaw.” 
He rolls his eyes but he notices your thighs pressing together, rubbing to create a little bit of friction to help you get the edge off a bit. 
“I can tell you liked it rough. Your thighs haven’t stopped moving since we started.”
His smirk irks you but you can’t help but notice how desperate you’re getting at this point. You’re still sucking on the delectable treat, saliva mixed with his cum adorning the now defiled candy. He takes the chance to slip the ring pop off of your finger and brings it to your neck, smearing the it’s content in a circle before attaching his lips to the stained area. You moan as his tongue licks the spot on your neck, thick lips sucking a little mark onto it. 
“T-Taesan…” 
“Keep calling me that name and I’ll have you screaming it by the end of the day.” 
He slips your shirt off of your body, bringing the treat down your chest and circling your nipples, continuing his previous actions of licking and sucking the affected areas. He takes the candy into his mouth, tasting himself on it and lets out a light moan. He takes it out to see that there’s not much left of it. 
“I bet I can make you come with my mouth before you finish the rest of this.” 
He says as he puts the candy in front of you and you willingly open your mouth as he slides the ring in. He kissed a trail down to the waistband of your pants before slowly pulling them off. 
“I hope you’re ready.” 
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playnextdoor · 9 months ago
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summary: korra always has her way so when reader tries to be sneaky, korra can't help but have her fun
warnings: established relationship,restraint kink, cursing, fingering (r! receiving), little slap, use of words "cunt, pussy, mound", spitting, slight degradation, praise, some after care.
a/n: im high and this is my first fic/ oneshot so expect errors. i wrote this entirely for myself so you dont have to like it, just dont be mean
"please just this once korra!" you breathlessly laugh. muffled snickers are heard above you, one hand gripping your arm, the other gripping your thigh. making your failed attempt at trying to kick away from her.
every time korra wants to play games, she has to win. if it's go fish, she has already won 3 times now. mario kart? forget it, she's yelling in your face like a prepubescent boy who is playing with his friends by saying "LET'S GOOOOOO".
korra does not let up and she makes sure you know that. though, this time you initiated it. walking out of your shared room, you see the back of korra's head sitting on the couch. the opened window causing the sun to pool inside the shared apartment, lighting up the side of her face.
''she's probably reading,' you thought to yourself as a sly smirk crept up on your face, seeing how her head was tilted downwards. you wanted to surprise her, to hear her scream like she always does to you when you have your back turned towards her, minding your sweet business. you continue to take a few steps toward her before you leap forward, tumbling and bringing the girl down with you.
“you little shit-” korra spits out, laughter hinting in her voice, immediately shifting to her knees before she flips you onto your back leading to where you are now. her book, wide open. crumpled pages right under her right knee as she fights you off.
“please! you never let me-” you get cut off as she’s already flipping you onto your tummy. strong thighs cage your own, her hands bringing your arms behind you, pining them onto your back. your left cheek smushed onto the carpet floor. the woman above breathing rapidly, staring down at your defeat.
“now, why would you think that would've worked?” she pants, tilting her head in amusement to peek at your adorable squished face. all you can do is focus on how her hips are grounded onto you. you can't help but shift your hips as if your body is reacting to this familiar feeling.
“it's my turn to win now,” you grumbled, trying to annunciate the words as your face was being mushed into the ground. korra tightens her grip on your arms, pressing her upper body down onto your back, lips going towards your right ear.
"so why aren't you trying to get me off?" she whispers so softly that your whole body shudders. she traced the shell of your ear with her lips. she couldn't help but smile as she felt your hips below hers grinding back into her hips.
"stop being dirty you-" you get those words out before you feel her body shift upwards. she uses her other arm now to pull your lower body half up, getting you in an arch and a nice view of how your shorts are scrunched up between the space where your thigh and crotch meet.
"im being dirty? you started rubbing your ass on me! did that seriously turn you on?" korra teases, playing with the elastic band on your shorts. she picks it up and snaps it back in place. "how much do you want to bet that you're wet right now?"
you aren't going to bet because you are wet. as soon as she gripped your arms in one hand behind your back, your body submitted. you groaned, trying to shuffle away from her fingers teasing you. she rubs her hand right over your left ass cheek, before pulling your shorts down. the soft material pooling at your mid-thigh, feeling the chilled air on your exposed slit. you gasp, inhaling sharply as you feel her middle and ring finger collecting the slick between your folds.
"fuck.." she says softly under her breath, rubbing the slick between her fingers. you’re just whining and squirming, trying to chase back at the feeling of her fingers on your cunt.
"korra.." a small whine escapes your now swollen lips, caused by you trying to hide your arousal as if it wasn't clear between your thighs. you hear her amused chuckle, her hand going back to dipping into your wetness. she rubs her fingers soothingly, making sure to put enough pressure when she reaches your clit.
"hmm, babe? what were you gonna say?" she asks, making eye contact with your sweet watering eyes. she can't help but flash you a little smile as she continues to rub at your clit. you on the other hand are trying to keep your eyes open, threatening to roll them back as she applies delicious pressure on your cunt.
"mm korra please.." tilting your head a bit more so you can get a good look at how sexy she looks above you. her hair that fell out of her ponytail perfectly framing her face, a flushed pink decorates her cheeks, and you see how her eyes are drooping with desire. before you can even register what's going to happen, you barely see her hand moving maybe 5 inches away from your pussy, swiftly spanking your mound. a shudder erupts from your body, causing a gasp to a moan leaving your mouth.
"use your words, tell me what you want baby." she quickly cups your cunt as a way to apologize and soothe your pussy from the previous slap. her voice is like music to your ears, a hot sensation in your tummy. your head already feeling fuzzy, trying to think of your response.
" fill me.. with mfmm.. your fingers, please korra," whining, going back to nibbling your bottom lip. korra groans, rubbing your puffy clit before she starts to fill you up with her index finger.
"goood girl. you're gonna let me fuck you, yeah?" she asks, a smile in her voice. you nod as your eyes flutter close, leaving your mouth agape so your whines and moans can be heard. korra continues to have that grip on your arms as she fucks you with her finger, going from slow to fast, to hooking and unhooking her finger to open you up for another. as she almost takes her index finger out of you, she slips her middle finger alongside her index.
"ahh! fuck yes korra," you moan out, shifting your legs as she adds a second finger into your sopping wet cunt. you can't help but get embarrassed as wet creamy sounds are filled into the living room. you hear the woman above you softly gasping as she cant rip her eyes away from your messy cunt, watching her fingers plunge in and out of you. your walls fluttering around her fingers, allowing yourself to feel complete mush. korra continues to fuck your pussy, her face coming towards your cunt. you feel a warm liquid sliding down your folds as it meets with her fingers, mixing with your arousal. you gasp as you realize what it is, immediately feeling your walls clench under korras fingers.
"fuck, are you gonna come baby? yeah? you dirty little minx, like when i spit in this pussy huh?" she says as her lips are right next to your ear. she nibbles on your lobe, smirking as she scissors her fingers inside you. you choke up. you feel the band in your stomach about to snap and you just want to feel korras lips on yours. you pry open your eyes and pout your lips, "yes korra mhm.. kiss me please im gonna cum."
korra swears under her breath, immediately connecting her lips to yours. speeding her fingers up as she feels your walls tighten around her fingers. the girl moans in your mouth with you, letting you take whatever you need as you feel your orgasm starting to wash over you. all you can do is let out these high-pitched moans, korra nodding her head, signaling that you can come. her eyebrows furrowed, her wet muscle moving against yours in your mouth. she starts feeling your body give one last shudder before collapsing, letting the orgasm wash over you. she catches your body almost immediately as she feels you letting go, taking her fingers out and rubbing quick circles onto your swollen clit. you gasp so cutely that she just watches this orgasm taking over you and your senses. lil splashes of your slick hit the soft ground as she continues to help you ride out your orgasm. your body starts to pick a regular breathing pattern. korra lets go of your arms as they drop to your sides. your body feels completely blissed out, your mind blank as all you can do is just feel the soft rug under your bare half.
"i did not know you liked me restraining you like that," she laughed softly, kissing your cheek as she slowed her pace. you groan, moving away from her fingers as you feel it getting too much.
"oh shut upppp," you grumble, can't help but smile as you feel your body floating in its post-orgasm state. korra reaches down and takes a little bite of your shoulder.
"dont be embarrassed, it's cute." she says, giving a kiss to the little bite mark on your shoulder. rubbing your back, korra lets you lay as long as you need to recover from an intense orgasm, which will always be her favorite part.
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dobrikobx · 7 months ago
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Silver Jewelry || Tyler Owens
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A/N: Hi so it’s been a while since I wrote a fanfic so I really hope you all enjoy!! I have seen twister 4 times now and physically can’t stop thinking about Tyler Owens.
Inspo for this fic came from a Tiktok poem from the account raegan entitled “it’s just the little things”
pairings: Tyler x reader and asshole Scott x reader
Warnings: Scott as mentioned is an ass to the reader at times, toxic relationship (with Scott), no y/n
summary: You are dating Scott who doesn’t treat you right.
————
“Scott look at how pretty this is.”
you proudly hold up a beautiful gold necklace
“yeah babe real cute”
he said not really looking. You shrug and turn back to the sales lady
“I think it’s real pretty, honey”
You turn and see tyler looking at the necklace
“T when did you get here?”
You throw your arms around his neck
“Oh a little while ago. I came to get some food for me and the crew, we set up at the old motel if you two want to come by and see everyone”
“Yes we will be there right after we finish here. Right Scott?”
Scott walked up holing his hand out for Tyler to shake which they did even if they glared at each other.
“Sure baby, if you want. We will grab something to eat and head over, Owens”
And that’s exactly what you two did. you were having a great time catching up. It had been since last tornado season that you had seen everyone. You and Lily were chatting about her new girlfriend and how you and Scott were talking about moving in together when your phone went off.
“Shut up!”
you scream everyone turned to look at you
“What? What?”
Lily said slightly panicking you turn your phone to her so she can see that your favorite artist just announced a new album coming out next week. You were so excited and couldn’t stop thinking about it or talking about it.
“Oh my God Lily I can’t wait for it to come out I’m going to stay up all night to listen to it! If you want to you can totally jo-“
“Baby, I don’t think Lily is interested. Maybe you should chill a bit. Nobody really likes their music here.”
You start to blush. After being together for almost 3 years you shouldn’t be surprised by Scott’s lack of concern about things you care deeply about and it didn’t necessarily surprise you but that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt when he brushed you off.
“I’m sorry Lily. Sorry guys, I guess I just got carried away”
Lily’s face scrunched up but before she could say anything Tyler cut in.
“Well I won’t speak on Lily’s behalf, however Boone and I happen to love that artist and I would be more than happy to have a listening party for the new album”
“Tyler it’s fine you don’t have to pretend to like their music”
You look and the ground more embarrassed than before.
“I am not pretending I love their music I own every album”
you slowly lift your head and see him looking back at you with so much sincerity you had to believe him.
“Okay then,if your sure, Thursday night”
you smile at him
“Sounds like a plan we can have it in my room so your boyfriend won’t be a party pooper”
He says giving Scott a go to hell look
After that everyone went back to their conversations. Scott came up to you and grabbed your arm.
“I got us a room here. Ready to turn in?”
You nod and say goodnight to your friends
“What the hell was that?”
Scott said the second your door closed
“What are you talking about?”
“You. Flirting with Tyler”
You scoff
“I was not flirting with Tyler! I agreed to hang out with my FRIEND. Besides it’s not like you wanted to listen to their new album anyways you can’t stand their music Scott so if anything I did you a favor your welcome.”
“You never asked me to listen”
“What are you talking about! Every single time I play their music you complain about how much you hate it and how insufferable it is. This way you won’t have to listen to it and I can enjoy it. If you really want to join, you can. I’m sorry I assumed you wouldn’t want to.”
“That’s okay. I don’t want to intrude”
“No please, Scott, baby, I want you to come”
you wrap your arms around his waist
“Okay if you really want me to come. I guess I will.”
he kisses your forehead
“I really do. I’m sorry again for assuming you wouldn’t want to join”
“Already forgotten let’s go to bed.”
Thursday night came and went and besides a few complaints from Scott and Tyler glaring at him through most the album you guys had a fun night.
“Javi!”
“Hey girl”
He says wrapping you up in a hug
“Just the guy I wanted to see I need your help with Scott’s anniversary present”
“I didn’t think it was here already?”
Javi asked confused
“Well I mean it’s not for a few months but, you know… I want to really make it special.”
“Alright then let’s see what we can do”
After months of anguishing over the perfect presents for Scott you had everything picked out and ready. Now if only you could shut your brain off and go to sleep before you had to wake up to see Scott off before he went chasing tomorrow.
Three years, three long years, with him. You laid awake staring at the ceiling you and Scott had been together three years it was officially your anniversary as of 25 minutes ago. You loved him you were sure about that. But, were you happy. For the last two years you wondered this… was it a coincidence that these thoughts doubled during tornado season when you inevitably ran into Tyler. No probably not.
Tyler was sweet and kind and caring. He showed you kindness even when your boyfriend wouldn’t. But you did love Scott. Plus, Tyler he is just your friend. That’s all you two would ever be.
You rolled over and looked at Scott. You loved him. That was enough it had to be. Your heart sank as you kissed his cheek and cuddled into his chest
“i love you”
you whispered even though you knew he couldn’t hear you
The next morning you woke up to kisses all over your face. You let out a giggle.
“Scott”
“Happy anniversary, baby”
you open your eyes and smile and stroke his cheek
“Happy anniversary, my love”
“Here I want you to open your present first.”
He said handing you a small blue box. You open the box to see the necklace you had shown him that day in the store only in silver.
“Oh.”
you tried to muster all you could to put a smile on your face
“I love it. Will you put it on me?”
“Of course, baby”
You look yourself in the mirror trying not to cry as Scott clasps the necklace. It’s not a big deal it’s just a necklace.
“Okay so what did you get me”
“Oh right let me grab it”
You go to your bag and grab the box of items that you had picked out making sure Scott would love.
“Wow babe these are perfect how did i get so lucky?”
you smile as he kisses you
“I’m going to hop in the shower before breakfast”
You say as you smile sadly at him
“Okay we’re stuck with everyone for breakfast since I have to go chasing today but tonight it’s me and you baby. I’m going to head down see you there”
you give him a closed lip smile and nod still fighting the tears.
you turn on the shower and look yourself in the mirror
“pull yourself together”
you say
“It’s a stupid necklace one that you said you wanted at least he took notice of the style”
That’s when the tears started and they didn’t stop. You got in the shower hoping that may help ease the nerves. When that didn’t seem to help you get out and get ready for the day making sure your necklace is out so Scott can see. Putting on a smile you walk to the cafe that is next to the motel.
You greet everyone with a smile and slide in the booth next to Scott
“I already ordered for you hope you don’t mind”
he said. you shook your head and grabbed his hand
“Three years it’s a big one Scott already bragged about his gifts you got him. So what did he get you.”
Lily asked excitedly
“Oh this necklace I wanted. Isn’t it beautiful”
You hold the necklace out for them to admire. They all admire it all but Tyler.
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear silver before.”
He says everyone turned and looked at you
“Um”
Suddenly the room was too small.
“Well I do sometimes. I’m actually not hungry so I think I’m gonna run to town and grab some stuff for tonight”
You get out of the booth and start to out the door to your car.
“Wait!”
Tyler.
“I really need to go T”
You had to go before he caught you crying. He would think you were stupid for crying over something so small.
“No hold it. Why are you upset?”
“I’m not”
“You are. I know you.”
“Just leave it, Tyler”
“No I can’t keep going on leaving it. He doesn’t deserve you.”
“I love him Tyler”
“I don’t think you do”
“I do.”
“Look me in the eye and say that and maybe I’ll believe it. I know you, I know you aren’t happy. I have seen you happy. And now might not be the right moment but I know I could make you happier than he ever has if you just give me the chance. He doesn’t even know you sweetheart. You’ve been together three years and he doesn’t even know you wear gold jewelry. What else doesn’t he know if he doesn’t even know that basic piece of information? I I know I might not know everything but, I know more than that. I know that if you gave me a shot baby, you’d be happier in a day than he’s made you the entire three years you’ve been together”
You look him in the the eyes
“Ty-Tyler”
You don’t even begin to know what to say but the tears you’ve been holding back begin streaming down your face. Tyler grabs you and pulls you against his chest. That’s when Scott decides to come out the cafe.
“What’s up? Owens why is she crying?”
He said irritated. You pull back from Tyler mascara running down your face.
“I think we need to talk. Lets go upstairs”
You two head back up to your room
“I I can’t do this anymore Scott.”
“Why it’s our anniversary”
“I know but, who is my favorite tv character?”
“I I don’t k-“
“What is my favorite show? movie? book? Hell, what’s my favorite snack?”
He just looks at you
“Nothing Scott really? We have been together three years and you can’t answer those basic questions. You got me silver jewelry for crying out loud.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I don’t wear silver Scott. Always gold. Just ignore the fact that we have seen each other most days these three years. We have plenty photos together I showed you the exact one I wanted. Hell Lily is right down stairs you could have asked her. I’m sorry I just I can’t do this anymore”
“But I love you”
“I know you think you love me and maybe you do but you don’t like me. If you did, you would know what I like you wouldn’t get annoyed by all my quirks. I thought I loved you, Scott and I’m sorry to both of us for me not realizing what we have isn’t love at least not the love we should have for each other.”
“That’s it. Three years”
“Three years that I wasn’t appreciated. I just I’m sorry Scott I really am. I’ll come grab my stuff after you leave”
You walk out your motel room
“Hey darlin’ want to get out of here?”
You look over at Tyler and smile
“Absolutely”
You climb into the truck after driving for a while he pulls into a field
“Did you mean all of that stuff you said at the motel?”
“Of course, honey. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it. How did you feel about what I said? I know you just broke up with Sir Dick Wad-“
“Tyler”
You give him a pointed look
“Right sorry. I know you just broke up with Scott but I’m crazy about you”
He pushes your hair behind your ear
“I’m crazy about you too Tyler. So much so that I am in a random field in the middle of tornado alley.”
Tyler leaned over giving you plenty of time to pull away. you close your eyes and push you lips against his.
———————
I hope this wasn’t bad and I hope you enjoyed.
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cupidbedsy · 8 months ago
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୨୧ be there for you ; lh43
➪ summary: luke always knows when his girl is sad, and this time it's no exception
➪ warnings: depression, fighting parents, kind of bad family dynamics
➪ word count: 1.6k
➪ cupid's notes: this is so weird because i'm listening to really hype music while editing the sad fics. oh well, i wrote this when i was sad so that's fun. also i reread this and i actually almost cried because i didn't realize how well i portrayed my own emotions in it so that was also fun
© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here
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There was something about that time of year that caused her depression to hit its highest level. There were a lot of reasons that could’ve caused it, but there was none that she could say was right. It wasn’t seasonal depression, she had been asked that a plethora of times. It wasn’t a feeling of not being enough, she had been told that by multiple therapists.
She could say it was her parents fighting, her parents’ financial struggles, her brothers' snarky comments about how he couldn’t wait to move out and not deal with their crap anymore. She could say it was her family going to her for every little thing that went wrong, the amount of shit she gets from everyone in the family, the comparison of her to her brothers. It could’ve been a lot of things, but she wasn’t about to pin her depression on her family members, it didn’t seem right. 
Every one of her friends and family knew she had depression, it wasn’t a secret. She felt as if as soon as her parents were told about her diagnosis they couldn’t wait to tell every single soul they knew. She felt like she was a story waiting to be told. She often thought that if she had a kid who acted the same way she did, she would know how to raise them better. 
She hated critiquing her parents and her brothers, but they did it to her, didn’t they? She knew about the multitude of times her parents had gone to talk to her brothers about how she hadn’t been to class in a week, how she looked fine so there was no reason for her not to go. She felt like the little boy who cried wolf, however, for much different reasons. 
She always said she was sick when she felt this feeling looming over her so her parents wouldn’t get worried, and they would let her stay home from school. But then, she would actually get sick and no one would believe her. She was stuck in an endless cycle. 
Luke was worried. He had known about her tendencies to fall into this state of mind and not know what caused it. He knew about her family, the therapists, the psychologists, and the social workers. He knew about the multiple attempts everyone had made to get her to open up, about the amount of times she had screamed in her head at them that she didn’t know. He knew about everything.
It was easy for her to open up to Luke when they first met, he had this unmistakably calming and supportive aurora about him. He had bumped into her one day in freshman year, immediately apologizing for not looking where he was going. She had been on her way to the dining hall while he was on his way back, but he offered to take her there anyway. 
Ever since then, they had been each other’s rock. Luke asked her out two months later and the two were practically inseparable. However, this was the first time he had experienced this side of her. He could tell it was happening just slightly, her face said it all. He wasn’t entirely sure of what to do, she had always told him it was nothing to worry about and it should be better in a couple of days. But it wasn’t.
She wasn’t the best at answering her texts, not wanting to face the fact that she was not doing well. She had been cooped up in her room for almost a week now, usually occupying herself with reading or playing a game on her phone. She wanted to go to class, she wanted to do her work, she wanted to do better but she just couldn’t. 
She stared blankly at her phone as her podcast played through her earbuds. She had seen a text from Luke come through but she didn’t pay much attention to it. She felt bad for not answering, yet another part of her brain just accepted defeat and the fact that he might be mad at her. She had been able to get up and sit at her desk which was a step in the right direction, however she hadn’t done much since she got there. 
She heard a knock on the door, ignoring it at first. When the knocking became more persistent, she sighed and got up. Her, Luke’s, hoodie fell from its original bunched-up place in her lap as she walked over to the door. Her eyes had dark circles around them, her hair was tied messily in the back. She opened it and looked at the person standing on the opposite side of the door.
“Hi.”
Usually, she would’ve been excited to see her boyfriend but at this point, that was what she dreaded most. Her face looked tired as she stared at Luke with blank eyes, “Hi.”
Luke nervously shifted his weight back and forth between his feet at the sound of her voice. It was hoarse from the lack of use, it had unfallen tears caught in it, and it had a hint of harshness laced in it. His mind flooded with thoughts as her voice reached his ears, he hadn’t been expecting it to sound that way.
She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something more but he didn’t. The lack of communication between the two caused them to stand in the doorway for three minutes. Luke’s nervousness and awkwardness were seeping into y/n’s body language as she toyed with her hair and stood with her left foot propped up behind her right leg. 
When they made eye contact, the tension in her body went away and her eyes softened, “You wanna come in?”
He nodded and she stepped back so he could walk in. Instead of going back to where she was previously sitting, she went back and climbed into her bed. The feeling of being able to be vulnerable in Luke’s presence made her want to curl into herself, she didn’t want to be vulnerable right now. She pulled her comforter up to her chin, creating heat around her.
Luke shivered from the moment he stepped into her room, goosebumps rising all over his arms. He sighed when he saw his girlfriend revert to her original space, moving to sit at the edge of her bed. He placed his hand on her calf, the sheets creating a barrier from them touching, “Hi baby.”
Those were the only words that both of them could muster, an awkward tension forming between the two of them for no reason. She just stayed staring at the wall in front of her. He let out a soft sigh at the lack of response and turned his head away from her to collect his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how to approach this, she had told him not to worry about her but he couldn’t help it. 
“What can I do to help?”
She shrugged in response, not giving him her full attention. Luke slowly moved his thumb to start rubbing her calf in circles as a form of comfort. Another moment of silence passed again, and the two slowly started to become more comfortable with each other once again. 
“Luke?”
“Hmm?” 
“Can you lay with me?”
Luke all but jumped onto the opportunity she gave him, slipping his shoes off and climbing in behind her. He wrapped his right arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. It was a mere five seconds before y/n was turning over and burying her head into his chest, “I’m sorry.”
“For what? You haven’t done anything wrong, baby.”
“For not responding, and for being like this.”
Before he had shown up she had hoped he wouldn’t even think about coming over. She hated when people had to see her like this. It wasn’t because of the way she looked but rather the thought that nobody would understand how she felt, that everyone would just complain about her problems.
But Luke was absolutely, positively in love with her. From the moment they met, the way he had been able to make her laugh within two minutes, the way she was able to ramble on about random things to a stranger amazed him. She had him wrapped around her finger since the moment they bumped into each other and there was nothing that would change that. 
He frowned at her words, “Don’t be sorry. You can’t control it.”
“I just wish it would stop sometimes. Move on from me.” He kissed her forehead and held her tighter, feeling angry at the world for doing this to his girl.
“I’m sorry this is happening to you.”
Her fingers went to tangle into his hair, her frowning at his apology. She played with one of the curls that had been sticking out amongst the rest due to its length. Luke calmed down at the feeling and gave her a small smile. It was hard for her to return the action, not having anything to smile about. 
Luke knew that was all he needed to do, just be there for her even if she said she didn’t want him there. Remind her that he would be there to support her through everything, even the parts she didn’t want him to know about. Reassure her that those feelings were common even if he didn’t know what it felt like. Love her as if the world was gonna end tomorrow.
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LH43 MASTERLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST
TAGLIST ; NAVIGATION
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eliaah · 5 months ago
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confessions !
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characters: yami sukehiro, fuegoleon vermillion, nozel silva, & jack.
tags: fluff , multi characters × fem reader!
a/n: making this while you guys wait for the part 2 of the fuegoleon fic. i haven't wrote it yet since my mood doesn't fit the scene and yes, i'm crazy for that. i'm also not very skilled in writing fluffs so it's either you'll find this cringe or whatever you think.
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🍁 YAMI SUKEHIRO
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The battlefield was chaos. Screams and the clash of steel filled the air, and the stench of blood was thick around you. But you barely noticed any of it, your focus solely on the enemy before you. A massive, hulking beast of a man wielding a blade twice the size of your own was charging toward you, and you knew this would be a fight to the death. You squared your shoulders, bracing for the impact, when suddenly the air around you shifted. A familiar pressure washed over you, and you knew exactly who it was without even turning around “Oi, dumbass!” Yami, the Captain's gruff voice cut through the chaos like a blade. “What do you think you’re doing, going up against that guy alone?” You barely had time to react before the beast swung its sword with brutal force. Just as you prepared to block, Captain was there, his katana intercepting the blow with a force that sent a shockwave through the ground. “Captain—” you started, but his sharp glare cut you off. “Stay back!” he barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ve got this.” But you couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. The Captain is strong, stronger than anyone you knew, but even he had limits. You called on your magic, determined to help, but before you could act, Yami was beside you, grabbing your wrist with a grip that was firm, almost bruising. “I can handle this.” you said, your voice steady, determined. You weren’t about to stand on the sidelines. He didn’t look at you, his eyes still locked on the enemy, but his grip on you tightened just a fraction. “Not this time.” he muttered, his voice low and sharp. “You’re not doing anything reckless. I won’t let you.” “You mean more to me than you think, Y/N,” he said, his tone almost a growl. “So don’t go doin’ something stupid, got it?“ The words hit you harder than expected. You stood there, completely caught off guard, your thoughts scrambling for a response, but nothing came out. you just stood there, the weight of his words sinking in. Was that… a confession? Did Yami just admit that he cared about you—really cared about you? Your heart started to race, the battlefield around you fading as your thoughts spiraled. Before you could fully process it, Yami let go of your wrist and turned back to the battle, his katana already sparking with dark energy. "Stay put, and let me handle this!" he ordered, his voice rough and commanding as he charged back at the monster, a whirlwind of raw power and stubborn determination. You were left standing there, your wrist still tingling where he’d grabbed you, your mind reeling from what just happened. Yami’s words echoed in your head, each beat of your heart pounding louder in your ears. The realization hit you like a lightning bolt, sending a rush of warmth and adrenaline through your body. Your heart was racing now, not from the danger of the battle, but from the knowledge that Captain—brash, stubborn, and infuriatingly reckless Captain—cared about you in a way you hadn’t dared to hope. And as you watched him fight, every swing of his katana full of raw power and determination, you couldn’t help but feel the same. Yami meant more to you than you’d realized, and now, standing on the battlefield with the world falling apart around you, it felt like everything had just changed in an instant.
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🍁 FUEGOLEON VERMILLION
The sun was setting over the Vermillion estate, bathing the garden in a warm, golden hue. Fuegoleon had invited you, his childhood friend and longtime maid, for a rare moment of relaxation away from the usual hustle of the castle.
As you walked alongside Fuegoleon through the garden’s winding paths, the fragrance of blooming flowers filled the air. He led you to a small table where tea and pastries were laid out, a simple yet elegant setting that was a departure from his typical commanding presence.
You took a seat, admiring the tranquility of the garden. Fuegoleon, usually so composed and stern, looked almost out of place in this serene setting. He poured the tea with a practiced hand, his movements deliberate yet gentle.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve had a moment like this.” you said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Remember when we used to play in this garden as kids?”
Fuegoleon smiled, a rare and genuine expression that softened his usually stern features. “Of course, I remember. You were always trying to catch the butterflies, and I was always trying to keep you from getting tangled in the bushes.”
You laughed softly. “And you always ended up covered in mud while trying to rescue me. We had some pretty wild adventures.”
“It’s funny.” you said, your voice softening as you looked around the garden. “I never thought we’d end up in such different places. You as the captain of the Crimson Lions and me here, still at the estate, but it feels like nothing has changed between us.”
Fuegoleon’s gaze lingered on you, his expression thoughtful. “I’ve missed these moments. It’s rare for me to have a chance to just sit and talk like this, without the weight of responsibilities pressing down.”
There was a pause as he set down his teacup, taking a deep breath as if gathering his thoughts. He looked at you with a mix of nostalgia and something more intense, a vulnerability that you hadn’t seen in him before.
“You know, Y/n,” Fuegoleon began, his voice carrying a sincerity that matched the peaceful setting, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how our lives have changed, and how much I’ve come to value these rare moments with you.”
He reached out as if to take your hand, his gaze steady and earnest. “I’ve realized that my feelings for you have grown deeper than I ever imagined. I’ve been holding back, but I can’t ignore it any longer.”
Just as he was about to grasp your hand, a lion from the estate’s stables, curious and playful, bounded into the garden. It darted towards you, its exuberance catching you off guard. In a moment of chaotic energy, the lion accidentally collided with you, sending you tumbling into the nearby bushes.
Fuegoleon’s hand was still reaching out to you, and as the lion’s sudden movement pulled you into the bush, it yanked him along too. Both of you fell into the soft, green bushes, landing in a heap.
For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant roar of the lion, who seemed more curious than menacing. Then, laughter bubbled up from both of you, the absurdity of the situation breaking the tension.
Fuegoleon looked at you, his face flushed with a mix of laughter and embarrassment. “Well, it looks like some things never change.” he said, grinning as he gently disentangled himself from the bushes.
You smiled, brushing leaves from your hair. “I suppose some traditions are meant to be upheld.”
As you both stood up, dusting yourselves off, the moment of levity brought you even closer.
Fuegoleon’s earlier confession was still hanging in the air, and as you met his gaze again, the sincerity of his words felt even more poignant against the backdrop of shared laughter and familiar comfort.
You took his hand, the connection between you feeling more real and immediate than ever. “I think I’m glad we ended up here, despite the lion.” you said softly. “Your confession means a lot to me.”
Fuegoleon’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting both relief and happiness. “I’m glad to hear that, Y/n.”
With the sun setting behind you and the garden’s tranquility restored, you both settled back onto the grassy area, the earlier conversation picking up where it left off. The bond between you felt renewed, strengthened by both the laughter and the heartfelt confession that had brought you closer together.
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🍁 NOZEL SILVA
Nozel and you were set up in an arranged marriage that initially felt loveless and obligatory. The first years were filled with formality and distance, with both of you merely fulfilling your roles. But as time passed, the boundaries of your arranged marriage began to blur. Through countless conversations and shared experiences, you both started to see each other in a new light, growing closer in a way neither of you had anticipated.
One evening, Nozel invited you to a secluded, elevated spot fat from the estate, known for its stunning view of the night sky. The place was a peaceful hill, far from the castle’s lights and noise, where the stars shone brightly, creating a serene and intimate atmosphere.
As you arrived, Nozel had prepared a cozy setup with a blanket and some snacks. The cool night air and the distant sounds of nature added to the calming ambiance. You both settled onto the blanket, the stars providing a beautiful backdrop for your conversation.
The night began with light and casual topics. Nozel, usually so composed, seemed more relaxed than usual. “You know, Y/n,” he began, looking up at the stars, “I used to think I knew everything about the world, but I never really took the time to look up and appreciate the sky like this.”
You smiled, glancing around at the view. “I feel the same way. It’s amazing how different everything looks when you take a moment to really observe it.”
The conversation naturally flowed, touching on favorite hobbies and shared experiences. “So,” you asked with a curious smile, “what’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but never had the chance to?”
Nozel thought for a moment before answering, “I’ve always wanted to learn more about the stars. They’ve fascinated me since I was a child, but I never had the time to study them properly. It’s funny how we get so caught up in our duties that we forget to enjoy the simple things.”
You nodded in agreement. “I’ve always found stargazing calming. It’s like a reminder of how vast the world is and how small our daily worries can seem.”
As the night wore on, the conversation deepened, touching on more personal reflections. Nozel spoke about his responsibilities and how they had shaped him, while you shared your thoughts on the changes you’d seen in your own life over the years.
Eventually, the conversation took a more introspective turn. Nozel, his gaze still fixed on the stars, seemed to be gathering his thoughts. “Y/n, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say,” he began, his voice carrying a hint of hesitation. “When we first married, it was all about duty and obligation. We barely knew each other, and our relationship felt like just another formality.”
You looked at him, sensing the gravity in his tone. “Yes, I remember. It was a difficult adjustment, and I think we both struggled with it.”
Nozel continued, his voice growing softer. “But over time, as we’ve spent more time together and talked about so many things, I’ve come to see you in a different light. You’re not just a duty to me, you’re someone I genuinely care about and admire.”
He turned to face you, his expression earnest and vulnerable. “Tonight, I want to ask you something important. Will you marry me again, but this time not out of obligation or force, but because we’ve truly come to care for each other? I want our marriage to be based on something real, on mutual affection and understanding.”
His words hung in the air, and you felt a rush of emotions. The sincerity in his voice and the intimate setting made the moment feel profoundly special.
You looked at Nozel, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “I never imagined we’d come to this point, but I’m so glad that we have. I’ve come to care for you deeply as well. I’d be honored to marry you again, not out of duty, but because I want to be with you.”
Nozel’s face lit up with relief and happiness. He reached out, taking your hand gently. As Nozel finished his heartfelt confession, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, elegant box. He opened it to reveal a delicate ring, glistening under the starlight. With a gentle smile, he took your hand and carefully slid the ring onto your finger.
“This is a symbol of my promise,” he said softly, his eyes fixed on yours. “A promise that this time, our marriage will be based on something real, something deep.”
He then raised your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the ring. The gesture was filled with sincerity and affection, sealing the new chapter of your relationship with a touch of romance and commitment.
As the stars twinkled above, Nozel leaned closer, his gaze locked on yours. Slowly, he cupped your face with both hands, his touch warm and tender. Without breaking eye contact, he gently kissed you. The kiss was soft and filled with the unspoken promises of a future together, sealing the new beginning you had both longed for.
The night was filled with the warmth of your shared connection, and as you pulled away, you both felt an overwhelming sense of peace and joy. The stars above seemed to celebrate your renewed bond, making the moment even more unforgettable.
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🍁 JACK
After weeks of a grueling mission in the forest, Jack had found you, injured and frail. Despite his usual indifference, he took you in, treating your wounds and caring for you. Over the past few weeks, you had traveled together, with Jack handling the heavy lifting while you rested and recovered.
One night, under the canopy of the forest, Jack set up a small campfire and began cooking a meal with the skill of someone who’s surprisingly adept in the kitchen. The warmth of the fire contrasted with the cool night air, creating a cozy environment. You sat nearby, wrapped in a blanket, watching Jack with a mix of gratitude and curiosity.
As Jack cooked, he tossed ingredients into the pot with practiced ease. “You know,” he said, his tone gruff but with a hint of satisfaction, “I’ve had to learn a thing or two about cooking. Can’t rely on others to feed me all the time.”
You smiled, taking in the delicious aroma. “I’m impressed. I didn’t expect you to be so good at it.”
Jack smirked as he stirred the pot. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. I only cook when I have to. And right now, I’d rather not eat whatever’s in those trail rations again.”
As the two of you shared the meal, the conversation flowed naturally. You talked about the oddities of the forest, the challenges of the mission, and your own experiences.
At one point, you asked, “So, Jack, what’s the most memorable mission you’ve had?”
Jack’s eyes lit up with a hint of mischief. “Most memorable? Well, there was this one time I had to track a rogue mage through a storm. Not only did I have to fight off a bunch of monsters, but I also had to navigate through a blizzard. Made for one hell of a story.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds intense. I’m glad you made it through.”
Jack shrugged. “Eh, it’s all part of the job. But enough about me. What about you? Ever done anything wild?”
Before you could answer, a bear emerged from the shadows, attacking without warning. Jack’s instincts kicked in immediately. He pushed you aside to protect you, engaging the bear in a fierce struggle. Despite his best efforts, the bear’s claws left deep scratches on Jack.
Once the bear was defeated, you rushed to Jack's side, leading him back to the cave you had been using as temporary shelter. As you tended to his wounds, Jack watched you with a mix of pain and something softer, though he tried to keep his usual gruff demeanor.
“You don’t have to go all out for me, you know,” Jack said, wincing slightly. “I’m used to roughing it.”
You looked up from his wounds, shaking your head. “It’s not about having to. It’s about wanting to. You’ve been looking out for me this whole time.”
Jack shifted uncomfortably, his voice dropping to a softer, almost embarrassed tone. “Yeah, well… It’s not like I’ve been doing it because I’m all noble or anything. I just—”
He hesitated, his usual bravado faltering. “I guess… I guess I’ve kind of grown used to having you around. And, uh, it’s not just because you needed help. I care about you, Y/n. More than I thought I could care about anyone.”
He looked away, trying to mask his embarrassment. “So, yeah. Don’t think I’m some weak shit or anything. I just wanted to say that… if you’re up for it, I’d like to keep you around. Not just for missions or whatever, but because I actually like having you by my side.”
You were taken aback by his confession, a smile spreading across your face as you looked at him. “Jack, I didn’t think you were the type to—”
“Hey! don’t make a big deal out of it,” Jack interrupted, though his voice was gentle. “Just… let’s stick together, alright?”
Before you could respond, Jack pulled you into a hug, his rough exterior softened by the warmth of the moment. You felt his heartbeat steady against yours, and as the night grew quieter around you, the bond between you felt deeper and more genuine.
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mrsholmesreid · 15 days ago
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ONE MORE CHRISTMAS, PLEASE | spencer reid x reader
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summary: after your passing, spencer spends years suffering with the grief of your loss. on this christmas eve, though, something different happens. under a shooting star, he makes a wish he never imagined, not even in his wildest dreams, would come true. but it does, and he gets to have you for one more day before you're gone for good once again.
pairing: spencer reid x reader
word count: 10,2k
content warnings: angst, battling grief, mentions of drug abuse and withdrawal, brief mention of needles, brief mention of hurling, mention of failed su!cide attempt, unprotected penetrative sex.
author's note: despite the content warnings, i don't think this is a very heavy fic. it's mostly about grief and deep emotions, meant to stir longing within you and the pain of missing someone you love, but who isn't around anymore. this is my first ever published one shot, i hope you enjoy it! i write character.ai bots and this was based on a bot i wrote inspired by the song "another christmas missing you" by tors, and the fic was also inspired by "lover, you should've come over" by jeff buckley. here's the link to the bot:
check the ending to see some amazing fanart my friend cami (@/camiwhatuwant on twitter) drew for this story!!
playlist <3
i also made a playlist to go with this fic! 🥳
you can play it in order while you read, but if you don't like listening to music while reading, i suggest at least listening to the first song before starting to get in the mood or just listening to it whenever you need a good cry :)
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The holidays were always the hardest. Spencer spent most of the year pushing through—lectures, cases, flights—losing himself in the quiet hum of his routines, but December always found the cracks in his armor. It was your season. Not his, or anybody else’s. Nothing ever bloomed as beautifully as you did during the holidays. It was like your soul had a special link to it, a connection way beyond this realm. There was something in the twinkling lights, the sound of carols, the scent of pine needles and cinnamon—that simply screamed you. Each one would later become a quiet reminiscence of your light, souvenirs from a long-lost love lingering like ghosts he couldn’t let go of.
You loved Christmas. Spencer used to think it was impossible for someone to be so full of joy over something so small. To him, this holiday never carried much meaning. His mom usually forgot to get him presents, and the colorful Christmas lights rarely ever lit his childhood living room. The warmth of this special shimmer—far from the literal aspect—was unknown to him. So, up until he met you, December was nothing but another month, piling up with all the others he had to drag himself through.
But you had a way of turning the mundane otherworldly. He could still picture the way your eyes lit up when the first snowflakes of the season fell, or the childlike glee in your voice as you took him to tree farms and Christmas markets. Your demeanor became so joyful, that he couldn’t help but think you looked even prettier under the blinking lights from the Christmas tree you decorated together. Like tattoos etched in his brain, each time he laid to rest, you were there—eyes boring into his own behind closed eyelids. Or so he wished.
You’d tease him for grumbling about the crowds and the too-cold-to-be-outside weather, but he always let you pull him along, secretly charmed by your enthusiasm. It didn’t matter what it was, if it was worth a smile on your face, Spencer would do it—no questions asked.
“Come on, Spence,” you laughed, tugging on his gloved hand. “Take a moment to feel it. Cherish this sensation, it’ll be over before you know it.” You stopped him in the middle of the park one afternoon, as you strolled through a thin cascade of delicate snowflakes. “You go on and on about your so-called ‘magic’ tricks, but you forget that the real magic lies here.” You took off his glove, the brisk air sharp against his skin, and placed his bare hand over your chest. The soothing rhythm of your beating heart—oh, how he missed that melody now,—thumped against his palm through the thick layers of fabric between you.
In that moment, your wide eyes glued to his, he felt it for the first time: the magic you were so zealous about, right beneath his fingertips. Your cold, pale hand suddenly felt warm against his own, and for a second, he believed you. Not because of the snow, or the whimsy, or the chirping of birds that he, only now—in the quiet of your bubble,—seemed to be aware of—no. It was because of you. You and the love he grew up believing didn’t exist outside of fairytales—and now, outside of you.
When you were looking at him like that, your cheeks flushed from the cold, your smile brighter than the lights strung overhead; there was not a single thing in the world he couldn’t do for you. Not a single word you could say that would change the heat creeping up in his chest.
I love you whispered in his veins, I love you with every beat of his heart, I love you strung all of the muscles contracting with his breathing. In and out, in and out, a never-ending cycle that once was his personal prison—but you showed him there was freedom within the litany. A lifetime of exhale after inhale—all this air he breathed, and yet there’d never be enough of your essence for him to capture. The very sound of his blood ran with a touch of you.
You were light, and life, and warmth; and Spencer had the blessing—a word he didn’t use very often, but your love was nothing short of divine—to have been yours.
Have been. Ouch. Past tense, that stings.
But then again, you were gone now.
Not even the holiest of prayers would bring you back to him, no matter how bright with deity was your soul. At the end of the day, your body was meat like all others. Being made of crushed little stars didn’t keep you from the harsh reality.
Mother Earth spares no one.
Every atom bathed in the sinful sanctity of your mist, like all others, must return to the ground, and the sky, and the very core of life itself—and you, of all people, could never be the one to cause imbalance to this perfect equilibrium. What pains the most is that the only path to such magnificent eternity is through death, and god help Spencer, but he couldn't keep you from it—no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he prayed.
It’s a selfish thought, he’s well aware of that. What could he, a being just as mortal as you, want from the beauty that is your body? And no, all of the lust-filled images he could fathom from that very sentence couldn’t be further from what he meant this time. This time.
The beauty in reference here goes way beyond what hungry eyes can see and eager hands can touch. It is heavenly, a beauty not to be seen, but felt with the heart. And that—well, that, wasn’t his to keep. However much he craved it. He’s always been a little greedy anyway.
Grief brought with it a flood of well-meaning platitudes, each one more infuriating than the last. Spencer had once heard someone say, “Good things perish so better things can flourish." What a cruel lie. Nothing could ever be better than you.
He had always prided himself on his ability to handle death. The sight of rotting bodies, though unsettling at first, became just another part of the job. Over time, he’d grown adept at compartmentalizing, studying the end of life with a detached curiosity that most couldn’t muster. Death was a process, a scientific inevitability, and he knew far more about it than he wished.
But now, that knowledge was a curse. The thought of microorganisms gnawing at your skin beneath a flower bed made him physically ill. The clinical detachment he’d once relied on had abandoned him, leaving only the unbearable truth: you were gone, and the earth was consuming what was left of you.
No one dies pretty.
Your turn seemed to be unfairly tragic, though. A stake to the gut so he could watch as all the light, life, and warmth that you carried and he worshipped, drained away, leaving your body limp—an empty shell of what once was the love of his life. No amount of scrubbing until his hands were raw to the bone would wash away the stain of your dry blood off of his skin. No time in prison, no death sentence, was enough to punish the man that did this to you, right before Spencer’s eyes. There weren’t enough new memories in a lifetime to erase the sight of your eyes blurring with eternal sleep.
Perhaps his opinion on this was a little biased, but how could it not be? The only times in his three decades of living he ever felt unapologetically loved, were when you were around. And now this? Can you blame him for wanting to do anything and everything it takes to have you back?
Well, actually, you can.
In the years you spent together, you pulled Spencer from the bottom of more pits than you could count. Through each high and each low, you held his hand and helped him past it. That’s why it hurt him even more when the familiar sting of a needle found its way back to his arm. It had been years since the last time he used it—but desperate times called for desperate measures. Right?
Wrong.
He only went through a couple of bottles before the shame overpowered the numbness and taking Dilaudid became no longer worth the knowledge that he was disappointing you, wherever you were. Withdrawal wasn’t half as bad as the first time, because now, he knew a pain far worse. He spent those weeks kneeling in his bathroom, switching from unconscious to barely there—the quick flashes of awareness used exclusively to beg for forgiveness and the occasional hurl.
He felt ashamed beyond redemption.
There was one night—right in the beginning—when the pain was so bad, he tried to join you. The fraction of his world left without you seemed no longer worth living in. He could swear that after the seventh pill, he almost felt the warmth of your arms around him, the color of your eyes in the back of his mind. Thankfully, his body knew better than to let him make the worst mistake he'd ever make, and he managed to reach his phone and call Hotch on speed dial. He didn’t remember much from that evening, but at the same time, it was impossible to forget about it—especially since no one on the team ever looked at him the same afterward.
It had been years now—years of learning to live with the you-shaped hole left behind in his life. Grief played its tricks, but for the most part, things were better. Over time, he managed not to cry himself to sleep every night. He managed to finally put your things in boxes in the basement—he wanted to keep them just the way you left them, but in one of JJ’s visits, she convinced him it was better to let go—and through the year, life went relatively smoothly. But December really was something else.
Spencer tried to honor you in little ways: putting up the tree, unboxing the ornaments you loved, whispering “Merry Christmas” to the silence. He told himself it was enough. It had to be. But his cup had been half empty for longer than he could remember, and that wasn’t about to change.
This year, though, the emptiness felt heavier. The tree stood half-decorated in the corner of the living room, its lights twinkling faintly—even they seemed sadder without you. It was Christmas Eve, and Spencer sat alone by the window, staring out at the dark winter sky. Snow fell softly, blanketing the world in quiet. His hands trembled as he held a mug of cocoa, untouched and lukewarm, the tiny marshmallows you always loved now drowning in the liquid. The sight made a tear stream down his face, but it wasn't enough to make him want to drink it. He settled the mug down to wipe the tears off of his eyes with quivering fingers. All seemed hopeless, the weight of knowing he was about to add another Christmas without you to his growing collection was heavy in his chest—until something lighting up the dark blue sky caught his attention.
Spencer was never one for superstition, but when he saw that shooting star streaking across the night, he broke. His voice cracked as he whispered, “Just one more Christmas. One day, please.”
It was all he could wish for at that moment. As selfish as it sounded to wish for you to spend one last Christmas with him, to take you from the peace of heaven—which he prayed every night to exist, despite not being religious, just for the hope of you being there—he couldn't help himself. 
It wasn't like it mattered either way, it was just a shooting star. A pretty name for a meteor, a piece of space dust flying inside Earth's atmosphere and creating a tail of fire as it burned. It was beautiful in its own, realistic, way; but as Spencer got back inside to call it a night, his heart clenched at the idea of never getting to see you again.
When he woke up the next morning, the world felt different. Sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, bathing his bedroom in an unusual warmth for such a cold day. Then he saw a small snow globe you had gotten him as a gift on one of your trips, sitting next to a picture of the both of you on his nightstand. He had found it a couple of days ago when going through the ornaments and decided to put it there to decorate the bedroom. Then it hit him—
It was Christmas. He was barely thinking about that detail at that moment, but as soon as it settled in, his heart ached. Another Christmas missing you.
He had learned not to stay in bed mourning over the years of grief, so he pushed the bad thoughts away, mentally encouraging himself to find things to occupy his mind with for the day—which was bound to be long.
Then he turned—and his heart stopped.
You were there.
Lying beside him, wrapped in the sheets, your chest rose and fell with slow, peaceful breaths. Your hair spilled across the pillow, and Spencer forgot how to breathe. He stared at you for long moments, studying your blissful expression and how the air flowed in and out of your nostrils.
Impossible.
He was completely frozen in place. He had to be hallucinating, right? You were dead, buried six feet under. He saw the life leaving your eyes, for god's sake, he was replaying the memory in his mind right then and there. But still… you were there now, next to him. Unmistakable, as beautiful as ever.
Still in utter shock, he tried to speak, but his voice failed as he reached out with trembling hands, afraid to touch you—afraid you’d disappear beneath his fingertips.
You stirred, your face scrunching before a sleepy smile tugged at your lips. “Morning, Spence.”
The sound hit him like a punch.
“Pinch me.” He whispered.
“What?” You mumbled sleepily, rubbing your eyes.
“I said pinch me. Now, please.” His tone was serious, making you cave and reach forward.
Your fingers hesitantly curled tightly around the skin of his arm, eyebrows furrowed in confusion—but before you could process it, you were in his arms, listening to his sobs.
Tears slid down his face, soaking your hair as he held you in a warm embrace, clutching you like you might vanish. “You’re here,” he whispered, his voice breaking and his shoulders shaking. “You’re here.”
“I know,” you murmured softly, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Merry Christmas.”
He let out a soft chuckle, sniffing as he struggled to stop crying. “Merry Christmas.”
“Why are you crying, baby?” You pulled back just enough to look at his face, concern etched on your features. You wiped his tears away with your thumbs and he let out another chuckle that did nothing to quell your confusion.
Why was he crying? You were back. He could feel you in his arms, your scent in his nostrils, your lips on his skin. Somehow, miraculously, you were back. A myriad of thoughts ran through his brain. Had he died too? Was your death just a bad dream? It didn't make any sense, but at that moment, technicalities were his last concern. His dream had come true.
“I'm crying because you're here,” he muttered as if it were obvious.
Your eyebrows furrowed further and he could read the confusion in your eyes as they searched his face.
Then it hit him: the shooting star.
It all started clicking in his mind, and before he could say anything, you broke the thick silence.
“What's going on?” you sounded concerned.
“You don't know, do you?” His voice was steady, but the tone betrayed the pain he felt.
“Know what?” you asked innocently.
His heart clenched at your naivety. He didn't want to tell you, yet he couldn't keep it from you either. Something about this was very wrong, but he didn't know on which end yet—yours or his.
With a swift motion, he stood from the bed and ran to the closet, making you gasp.
“Spencer, what's going on?” you sat up on the bed, but then he opened its doors. “Where are my things?” you asked at the sight of your side of the closet completely empty.
He turned to you, shoulders slumped.
“Something's going on,” he began, as if he had barely processed your question, going back to bed with his heart aching now that he knew it wasn't just a bad dream. You really were gone.
“Yeah, I can tell,” you added. “Care to explain?”
He inhaled deeply, bracing himself for what was about to come.
“I will… but I'm not sure either. Firstly, what do you remember?”
“’What do I remember?’ I don't know, Spencer!” You let out, your patience wearing thin.
“I mean, what's your last memory? The last thing that happened before you woke up now?” He held your hands, calming you down, but the worry in his eyes made you uneasy. As you tried to recall what happened the night before, your brain struggled to find the answer.
“I… I don't know…” you let out, searching your mind for something, anything, but didn't find it. “It's like… It's there somewhere, but I can't place it.”
He took another deep breath, squeezing your hands gently. He never thought he'd have to do this, actually sit down and explain everything to you. From the day of your death until the shooting star the night before, he tried to cover everything that happened, fighting against the knot in his chest as he relived each and every painful memory with your eyes staring into his.
Your face was unreadable. A mix of confusion and comprehension, pain and anger; flashed across your features. He couldn't pinpoint whether you believed him or not, and as the seconds after the last of his explanations ticked by, his heart stammered against his ribs.
“Are you okay?” he tried.
“Okay is a strong word. I'm… processing.” You muttered, avoiding his gaze, your hands cold against his.
“Do you believe me?” he whispered hesitantly.
“Yes,” you replied after a beat. “Yes, I do.” 
He nodded, patiently waiting for when you were ready to talk about it.
“So we only have today? Then what?” your eyes finally met his.
“I don't know, I think so,” he replied, his gaze reassuring. “Listen, I didn't think it was actually gonna happen when I wished for that last night, or else—”
“Don't,” you interrupted him, reaching out for his arm, the touch making his skin shiver. “I'm glad you did.” A faint smile played on your lips.
You shared a long gaze, probably the deepest, most meaningful you ever had, and his eyes watered once more. The mere sight made you cry as well, and the unmistakable redness on your nose as the tears spilled from your eyes only made him cry harder. In the ocean the two of you filled together, there was pain, longing and somehow gratitude. Love. No matter the circumstance, you were together. That's all that truly mattered.
He chuckled softly as the two of you sat there, crying and holding hands, laughing softly at the absurdity of that moment.
“I love you,” he muttered between tears.
“I love you,” you replied in an instant, your voice cracking.
With one swift, messy motion, both of his hands reached for your face, cradling it carefully as he crashed his lips against yours. The saltiness of your tears mingled with each of your kisses, sloppy and filled with a bitter kind of yearning. 
“No more tears,” you murmured against his lips as he rested his forehead against yours. “You have to promise me, no more tears.”
“Can't promise that,” he let out a humorless chuckle.
“No, but you can,” you insisted. “If we only have today, you must promise me. No. More. Tears. It goes both ways.” You gestured between the two of you.
After a couple of thoughtful moments, he took a deep breath and replied, “Deal. No more tears.”
Then his lips were on yours again, but this time, with a renewed sense of hunger.
It was as if that promise tied the darkness between you in a safe, securely tucked away from the present moment, where you finally had the liberty to lose yourselves in each other.
He pushed you back gently against the bed, his body hovering above yours as your lips moved together in perfect sync. Your tongues intertwined in a sensual dance, loving and enticing. He took your bottom lip between both of his own, sucking gently. The soothing motion made a soft gasp escape his lips, eliciting a smile from you.
Your hands explored and caressed his back with a reverent curiosity, and under your fingers, he felt safe. His skin shivered beneath your careful touch, and craved more of it. Suddenly, his clothes felt wrong, almost sinful to be blocking his skin from the wonders of your own.
“Need you now,” he muttered against you, his lips attached to the sensitive skin of your neck.
No further words were needed. His hands were under your shirt in no time, pulling and tugging at the fabric desperately. You didn't waste any time either, your fingers working expertly as you tossed his own across the room.
You were both more than used to it, the movements to this heated choreography memorized like second nature by now. And yet, it never felt so unknown.
As your bare bodies tangled beneath the soft sheets, the cold outside was long forgotten. The warmth of your skin seeped through Spencer's, only adding fire to his growing desire. His lips trailed messily across your neck and collarbone, occasionally drifting back to the safety of your mouth, making him uncomfortably aware of just how badly he missed this.
The taste of your skin on his tongue, the perfect hills and valleys his hands and lips traced along your curves—a landscape he'd never grow tired of. The scent of your hair, the soft gasps his ministrations begged to elicit from you, and the sweetness of his name spilling from your throat. 
When your ankles crossed behind his back, he knew he was done. A low moan left his lips as he ground down against you, your hips moving in practiced synchrony, following each step of your choreography perfectly.
His eyes met yours, and in a second of shared understanding, he knew you wanted him as much as he wanted you.
The moment your bodies connected in the most intimate way possible, he was home. There was truly no other way to describe the sanctity of your warmth, the safety of your grip, other than home. A home he wished for so long to return to, finally back around him. 
“Goddamnit, I missed this,” he let out almost involuntarily.
A soft gasp escaped your lips, one that made his entire body shiver. With slow, unhurried thrusts, he began moving within you. He could feel your body reacting to every movement of his, your eyes glued to each other's. It was like your souls became one in your little bubble of love.
Your nails dug into his back, little red half-moons left behind as a trail of your longing. The slight sting of pain only urged him on, his movements growing deeper and faster.
Your moans filled the room, a beautiful choir singing with his low groans and harmonized by the soft sounds of your coupling. Your breaths mingled in the small space between your faces, bare chests pressed together snuggly as you let yourselves be overtaken by the maddening friction between you. His face buried in the crook of your neck, and as he made love to you, all that crossed his mind was how lucky he was for having you. Right then and there, he couldn't find enough strength to care about the technicalities of this. He was home, for heaven’s sake. After years of not truly belonging anywhere. And he'd be damned if he didn't enjoy it to bits.
He could feel the familiar warmth coiling in his lower stomach, the pressure enough to fasten his pace—which didn't go unnoticed by you. He felt your legs tighten around him, your breaths growing faster and more shallow.
He knew you were close too. It was evident in your touch, written in the shimmer of your eyes.
“I can't get enough of you,” he admitted, small beads of sweat pooling on his forehead as he drove into you, each thrust deep and meaningful.
“You’re so cheesy,” you teased with a breathless chuckle.
“But I'm serious,” his eyes met yours, and even through the thick haze of desire, you saw the rawness in his statement. “I can't get enough of you. I take, and I take, but it's never enough. I need more of you, I need all of you.”
“You already have all of me,”
No, I don't.
The three words threatened to escape his lips, but he caught them before it was too late. The obvious silence that followed made it clear that you could hear even his unspoken words, read them through his eyes. For a moment, he could tell you had realized your slip-up, but he didn't care to point it out. The rhythm of his hips faltered for a second, but he quickly picked it up again, averting his gaze from yours as he struggled not to cry.
“Hey,” you whispered, making him look back at you with reddened eyes. “No more tears.”
The echoed promise was like an anchor, pulling him back to the present moment and making him focus on the heat in his core. No more tears. 
He leaned in and captured your lips again, swallowing the heaviness that had formed between you until the only thing left was love. His hands squeezed your hips tightly, the kneading of soft skin an anchor to the present, grounding him back to you—and in that moment, he knew: that was what he was put on earth to do. To love you.
Your tongues battled for dominance as your hips moved together desperately. He angled his thrusts, determined to hit that special spot inside you every time, needing to make you see stars. You moaned his name, and it went straight to his crotch. He groaned against the shell of your ear, his movements becoming harder and more needy. He was close. Agonizingly close. His eyes sought yours and found his desire mirrored in them, your lips slightly parted as you struggled to hold back.
Bring me home, whispered with each slap of your skin, pull me closer, his body begged with every in-and-out movement. He didn't want to leave, not just yet, but the pressure in his lower abdomen was overwhelming. Knots tied together pleaded to be undone, and he couldn't help but want to give in. His hand reached between your bodies to rub tight circles around your most sensitive spot, set on bringing you with him. Your soft moans became louder, the sounds like music to his ears for now he knew he had you with him.
Your legs trembled slightly around his waist, letting him know exactly what he had to do. With the last of his strength, he continued driving deep into you, his thrusts growing faster by the second and bringing both of you impossibly closer to the edge. His rhythm was clear and purposeful, back and forth then back again until he felt you unravel in his arms. Flowers blossomed in your core as you came undone, the soft brushing of the petals against his skin enough to tear him apart. He found shelter deep inside you, burying himself as close as humanly possible as he met the peak of bliss within your heat.
Home. He was home.
His chest crashed down on top of yours, your bodies tangled and limp against the mattress. You struggled to catch your breaths, minds still hazy with ecstasy.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you,” you muttered back, and it was like the world wouldn’t be complete without those three words coming from your lips. He’d waited years for that sound—years of whispering it to the silence and falling apart with the void left without the echo of your voice after his. But now you were there, saying it to him, and that’s all he could think about.
Soon after, you were padding down the hallway toward the kitchen in one of his shirts. He followed right behind you, watching every step you took.
“You kept the pictures,” you mentioned, pointing at the frames in the hallway, all filled with pictures of the both of you.
“JJ helped me take them down once, but I put them back up,” he explained quietly.
“It's not fair to you,” you added.
“That's what she said.” His voice was steady as if trying to end the subject. He already knew what you were going to say. That he deserved to move on and be happy, find somebody else and leave you in the past. He didn't want to hear that now—or ever if he was being honest. 
“I want you to be happy without me,” you insisted.
He let out a soft scoff, “I know you do.”
“Well, are you?” 
The words hung heavy in the air between you. You turned back to look into his eyes, but he was quiet. He didn't need to say anything, you already knew the answer. He could see it in your eyes, though, the whirlwind of words you wanted to say but didn't. You knew they were useless.
“I'm sorry,” you broke the silence.
“It's not your fault.”
“I know,” you replied in a heartbeat. “But I'm still sorry. And I wish I could change things.”
He took a deep breath, pondering what to say, but nothing felt right. “No more tears, right?”
“Right,” you nodded, averting your gaze and trying to ease the atmosphere.”No more tears.”
He followed behind as you continued your way to the kitchen, separated by a counter from the living room. Everything looked the same as you remembered—the plates were still organized on the corner shelf the way Spencer always insisted on doing, and the cups were carefully aligned on the cupboard. One thing was out of place, though. There was a mug on the table near the window, something he never left behind.
“What's this?” you asked, curiously stepping closer and taking it in your hand.
“Oh, that's just, uhm—”
“Hot chocolate,” you interrupted. “You don't drink hot chocolate. Or marshmallows.” You said, stirring the now cold liquid and mushy little white marshmallows, soaked and melting from being left there, untouched for too long.
“Yeah, but you do,” he said. “I made your recipe last night since I never admitted to trying it.”
“But you didn't drink it?” You asked.
He was quiet for a moment before replying. “Didn't feel like it,” he simply shrugged.
You stared at him then turned to the sink to pour it down the drain.
“What are you doing?” He asked, confused.
“I'm making you the real thing. You clearly added too much cocoa powder, that was undrinkable.” You replied with a plainness that made a shy smile appear on his lips.
“Yeah… too much cocoa,” he sighed, admiring the way you walked around the kitchen gathering items to make him the beverage.
“What are you doing just standing there? Go grab the cinnamon,” you said, already mixing up ingredients.
“Right, of course,” he straightened up with a smile, quickly obeying and grabbing the cinnamon to help you.
You two moved about the kitchen in a quiet, domestic dance. Handing each other ingredients, standing by the stove together with his arms around your waist as you stirred the pot—it felt so natural, it almost made him forget you weren’t truly there.
He could feel you, yes, the taste of your skin on his lips when he pressed a kiss to your shoulder blurred his senses; but you weren't truly there. You were like an idea he wished he could bring to life, not just for a day, but forever. He needed you forever.
You sat on the couch, your legs draped over his lap, hands clutching a warm mug of hot chocolate. He stared at you as you took a sip, quietly amazed by the way you blew on the liquid not to burn your mouth.
“You're not gonna try it? I came back from the dead to make you some of my delicious hot chocolate and you're not even gonna try it?” You joked, noticing the way his eyes were glued to your every move.
Stolen from his musings, he lets out a soft chuckle. “Of course I will try it. Can't a man enjoy the view for a moment?” He teased back, looking down at his own mug.
You watched as he brought the rim to his lips, carefully sipping on it and savoring the taste on his tongue. “So? Is it good?” You asked eagerly.
He took a deep breath before saying, “It's good.”
You leaned in when he smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips, “Told ‘ya.”
He blushed, meeting your eyes with a soft gaze. He lost himself in them for a moment, drowning in the color of your irises and the depth of your wide pupils taking him in. He looked at you like he wanted to memorize it—as if he hadn’t already. That tone, that specific shade so uniquely yours, was his favorite color—and he missed it more than he could have expected.
“Does it bother you?” He broke the comfortable silence as you nursed on your mug.
“Does what bother me?” You asked, eyebrows frowning slightly with curiosity.
“That there isn’t an afterlife. That you simply didn’t exist when you were… you know,” he added awkwardly.
“Oh,” you let out, not expecting that question. “I don’t know, Spence. I didn’t even know I was dead before waking up next to you today. Maybe if it weren’t for that shooting star, I never would have known. I think maybe it was like sleeping, but then again, I can’t be sure.” You searched your brain for a better answer, but there really wasn’t one. He could see right through you.
“Don’t you wish there was a heaven? I prayed every night for heaven to exist, just for you to be there,” he admitted quietly.
Your eyes softened at his admission, your gaze averting for a moment as you thought about his words. Not that you needed to, though, the answer was right on your lips already. 
“No,” you said without hesitation. “Even if there was something like that, it wouldn’t be heaven. Not without you.”
His heart sank at your words, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. If asked this question, he knew his answer would be the same.
You shared that moment for long minutes, sipping on your hot chocolate. He told you about his job and his friends, about his mom and his trips to Las Vegas, about his newest favorite books and spots to read. You listened intently, enchanted by the way his lips moved and how passionately he spoke about his interests. He loved it—being under your admiring gaze.
The quiet warmth of the moment gave way to an idea. Spencer stood, gently pushing your legs off his lap and offering you his hand. “Come on,” he said softly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s go outside.”
You raised an eyebrow but took his hand without question. Moments later, you were bundled up in warm coats, stepping into the crisp air of the backyard. Snow blanketed the ground, shimmering under the faint winter sun. The world felt still, as if time itself had paused to make room for this fleeting miracle.
Spencer watched as you took a few steps into the snow, your breath visible in the chill. You tilted your head back, eyes closed, letting the delicate flakes fall onto your skin. He stood frozen, his heart aching at the sight. You were alive, somehow—more alive than he’d ever seen you.
“I missed this,” you murmured, turning to him with a wistful smile. “Snow always felt like magic to me. Like each flake carried a tiny piece of the universe’s secrets.”
He smiled, though his chest tightened. You always spoke like that, weaving poetry into the mundane, seeing beauty where others saw nothing. He never realized how much he needed that until it was gone.
As you wandered, something caught your eye near the edge of the yard—a patch of wildflowers poking through the snow, defying the season. You crouched down, carefully plucking a few stems. “Look at these, Spence. They’re still blooming.”
He joined you, kneeling in the snow as you began weaving the flowers together with deft fingers. “How do they survive in this cold?” you mused aloud, your tone soft and full of wonder.
“Maybe they’re like you,” he replied quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “Something too beautiful, too stubborn, to be snuffed out.”
You paused, your fingers stilling on the flower crown you were building as his words settled between you. Slowly, you looked up, your eyes meeting his. No more tears. But this time, the promise was harder to hold onto. Spencer felt the weight of his words but didn't press you to say anything. Your smile was more than necessary.
You swallowed hard as you finished your creation. “Hold still,” you whispered, leaning toward him. Gently, you placed the crown on his head, shifting it until it sat just right above his messy curls. “There. Perfect.”
He chuckled softly, the sound catching in his throat. “A flower crown? Really?”
The snow fell quietly around you, a fragile peace settling over the moment. You adjusted the garment on Spencer’s head, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Mhm. And you look ridiculous,” you teased, your voice light but warm.
He huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “I think you just wanted an excuse to make me wear this.”
“Maybe,” you admitted, tilting your head to study him. “But it suits you.”
Spencer’s smile softened, his eyes tracing your face. “You always do that,” he murmured.
“Do what?”
“Make the smallest things feel… infinite,” he said, his voice catching slightly. “Like this moment will last forever… you always find a way to do it, even now—even when…”
You reached out, placing a hand on his wrist. “Don’t,” you said gently. “Not today.”
He hesitated, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “It’s hard not to think about it.”
“I know,” you replied, your voice steady. “But we promised, remember? No more tears.”
“No more tears,” he echoed, though his voice wavered.
Your breath hitched, and you looked down at your hands, twisting a stem of the leftover flowers between your fingers. “But it can, you know,” you continued quietly. “Last forever. If we let it.”
He tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. “How?”
You reached out, your fingers brushing his cheek. “By holding onto it. By remembering it—not with sadness, but with love.”
Spencer closed his eyes at your touch, his voice soft and full of longing. “I don’t want to remember, though. I just want to stay here… with you.”
You smiled, though your chest ached. “Then let’s stay here. Just for now. Don’t think about what comes next for a minute. You’ll have forever to worry about that.”
He opened his eyes, and for a moment, it felt as though the rest of the world had disappeared. “You’re right. No more thinking about it now,” he whispered.
And for a while, the two of you simply sat there, wrapped in the quiet peace of the moment, the snow falling around you like a blessing from a world that had finally stopped spinning.
The afternoon unfolded like a dream, each moment sharper and more vivid than the last. Spencer couldn’t stop watching you, memorizing every detail—the way your laugh filled the air, the sparkle in your eyes as you teased him, the warmth of your hand in his. You played around in the yard, throwing snowballs at each other and laughing together. Those moments were fleeting but eternal at the same time, lasting far less than what Spencer wished they did. But he knew he’d have them in his heart forever.
Yet the weight of the looming evening seemed to get heavier by the second.
Both of you knew it was bound to happen. You couldn’t simply come back from the dead, life was never that simple. So despite the obvious hope Spencer had been feeding throughout the day, he knew it was unlikely for you to be back for longer than one day. Life had never been kind to him before, why would it start now?
This was typical Spencer Reid. Finally getting something really good only for it to be ripped from his hands.
You'd been leaning against the porch railing for some time already when the sun began to set. The quiet wasn’t awkward—it was heavy, filled with the weight of words unspoken, of feelings too big to contain.
Eventually, the cold began to seep through your layers, and Spencer noticed the way your shoulders trembled. 
“I think it's time we go back inside,” you broke the silence, turning to face him. The flower crown still hung loosely over his head. You reached up to grab it with a smile on your face, fiddling with the small flowers between your fingers.
“You're right, it's getting too cold,” Spencer said, wrapping his arms around you, not wanting to leave this moment just yet. You set the crown on the railing to curl your hands over his arms that were crossed on your stomach. He leaned in close, his breath warm against your neck as he savored your scent.
Your eyes fluttered shut, relishing the sensation of having him close. A soft hum escaped your mouth, the gentle vibration trembling against Spencer's chest pressed on your back.
“We really should go, though, it's getting late,” you muttered quietly, though none of you made the effort to leave.
“Mhm,” he hummed in agreement, squeezing you tighter.
It was as unfair as unfairness could reach. He was sure, right then and there, that there was nothing in his existence that could feel more right than this—than you, in his arms. But the moment was slipping from his fingers like water, and he could feel it. He tried to grasp it. His hands tried to reach that water, to hold it and keep it to himself—desperately trying to make the feeling linger for a split second longer if it could. But it didn't.
One moment you were outside, and the next, you were inside again, the faint glow of the Christmas tree casting soft shadows on the walls. The night darkened the room through the windows, and it only made the realization that the day was almost over even heavier.
The living room felt warmer than it had that morning, as though the house itself had soaked up the joy and sorrow of the day. You sank onto the couch, pulling a blanket over your lap, and Spencer joined you, sitting close enough that your sides touched. Your head fell softly against his shoulder, the weight a comforting reminder that you were there—but also, not for long.
The Christmas tree lights blinked softly, almost sadly with the room's atmosphere, their rhythm hypnotic in a way. You stared at the ornaments, each one a tiny fragment of a life you used to know.
“It’s almost over,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.
Spencer turned to you, his expression pained. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true,” you said, your eyes fixed on the tree. “The day’s ending, and so is this. I can feel it.”
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I don’t want it to end.”
“Neither do I,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “But we can’t stop it, Spence. We can only… hold onto what we have left.”
He reached for your hand, gripping it tightly as though he could anchor you here, as though his touch alone could defy the inevitable.
“I wish…” His voice cracked, and he looked away, blinking rapidly. “I wish I could have more time.”
You turned to him, your heart aching at the sight of his tear-filled eyes. “Spencer,” you said softly, cupping his face in your hands. “We had today. That’s more than most people ever get. We had this.”
“But it’s not enough,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “It’ll never be enough.”
You pulled him into your arms, holding him tightly as his body shook with silent sobs. “I know,” you said, your voice thick with tears. “It’s not enough for me, either.”
“I wish I could go back in time and wish to have you back forever, and not just for one day. Man, am I stupid,” he let out a humorless chuckle, the sound muffled against your hair. You chuckled back, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands.
“I wish I could go back in time and not leave in the first place.”
The way you admitted that stung like a knife in his chest. Suddenly, he was brought back to all the painful memories from the first months after your passing. The relapse, the withdrawal, the attempt… All of it ached as if the wound was fresh. He couldn’t say anything, he didn’t want you to know all that he went through trying to get over your death. You didn’t deserve to know it, not during your last moments with him. So he simply pressed his lips to your temple in a gentle, lingering kiss. He wished you hadn’t left in the first place either.
The two of you stayed like that for what felt like hours, clinging to each other as though you could merge into one being.
Eventually, Spencer shifted, pulling you into his lap. You curled into him, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arms wrapped around you, holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the world.
The lights from the tree reflected in his eyes as he looked down at you, his fingers brushing through your hair. He noticed your red eyes as if you had been holding back tears for hours. “No more tears,” he whispered, though it was mostly to himself—he needed to be convinced, somehow, that crying at this moment was useless.
You smiled faintly, your eyes glistening. “No more tears,” you echoed.
But the promise was impossible to keep. The weight of the moment, the knowledge that this was fleeting, was too much. A tear slipped down your cheek, and he kissed it away, his lips warm against your skin.
“I love you,” he said, his voice breaking as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss on your lips.
“I love you too,” you replied, your voice steady despite the tears. “You did an awful job decorating the tree, by the way,” you chuckled softly, the sound muffled by your tears.
Spencer let out a breathy laugh, though it sounded more like a sob. “I’m not half as good at this as you. I use the same decorations you did, but my lack of talent makes me barely want to try.” He joked, but the words had a bitter flavor.
You tilted your head up to look at him, your smile sad but genuine. “Well, you’ll have to try harder next year. I’ll find a way to haunt you if you don’t.”
His face crumpled, and he pressed his forehead to yours, the laughter fading as the weight of your words sank in. Next year. The words hung in the air, a bittersweet hope neither of you dared to believe in. Next year. Next year you wouldn’t be there. Again.
And as the night deepened, the two of you sat by the tree, wrapped in each other’s arms, mourning the end of the day but cherishing the miracle of having had it at all. The world outside faded into darkness, but inside, beneath the glow of the Christmas lights, time seemed to stand still, holding you both in its tender grasp for just a little while longer.
The blinking lights of the tree cast soft patterns on the walls, the room dim and quiet except for the faint hum of the heater and the sound of your breaths mingling. He wanted to hold onto this—onto you—for as long as he could.
But Spencer knew it was useless to hold onto a moment that barely existed. Whatever this day had been, the miracle that was to have you in his arms again—even for just another heartbeat—was too good to be true. He knew it didn't matter how much he prayed, how much he begged the skies down on his knees. You'd never be back, not the way he needed you to. He could feel the way gratitude warred with downright bitterness in his chest.
Spencer could never hate anything responsible for bringing you—the light of his life—back, even if it were just for a day, but he'd be damned if he wasn't already blaming himself for the heightened pain of your absence that already began to stir within him. It was like the quick sample of what it was like to have you with him again made his already unbearable pain even worse.
But then your whisper broke the silence, soft and comforting, your voice trembling slightly, “Come to bed.”
Spencer hesitated, his arms tightening around you as though letting go, even for a moment, might break the fragile spell keeping you there. He knew what going to bed meant. He knew that going to bed would be officially saying goodbye to the last shred of you he'd ever grasp. Going to bed meant fully acknowledging the ending of this day—this perfect, painful day. But he nodded, his lips brushing against your temple. “Okay.” There was nowhere to run, and he didn’t want to make this any heavier on you.
He helped you to your feet, his hand gripping yours tightly as though afraid you might disappear too early if he let go. The walk to his bedroom was silent, the air thick with unspoken fears and lingering sadness.
You climbed into bed together, the sheets cool against your skin as Spencer pulled you close. He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your hair, and you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
Neither of you spoke, the silence filled with the weight of everything you couldn’t say. His fingers traced absent patterns on your back, and he clung to you like a lifeline, unwilling to let go.
“Spencer,” you whispered after a while, your voice barely audible.
“Yeah?” His voice was hoarse, thick with emotion.
“If I’m not here tomorrow…” You paused, your throat tightening. “I want you to promise me something.”
He stiffened, his arms tightening around you. “Don’t,” he whispered.
“Please,” you said, your voice breaking. “Promise me you’ll keep going. That you’ll let yourself be happy again. I know what we talked about earlier today, and I know it's not that simple. But please... Promise you'll try. Not for me, for you.”
He didn’t answer at first, his breath hitching as he tried to hold back the tears. He knew that was a promise he couldn't keep. Losing you—yet again—felt like a battle he could never win. He didn't want to lie to you, but the thought of waking up to an empty bed again, especially after what you lived that day, was a pain he could barely fathom—let alone expect to ever get over.
Yet he couldn’t help but consider it. The tone in your voice, the genuine pain in your eyes—it got to him. He needed this, despite not realizing it through the immense agony the idea of being left alone without you again brought him. He knew it was what you wanted for him, and deep down, it was what he wanted for himself as well. It would take a while to process it, but it was inevitable—he’d have to learn—because regardless of everything that happened, he could never regret meeting you, having you. Spencer knew that no matter how much suffering he went through, how many tears he shed because of you; if he could go back in time, he’d do it all over again without changing a single thing. Even if it meant reliving your loss, the aching your absence left behind, the dark places his mind stayed in for years… it also meant reliving the firsts, the kisses, the hugs, the love… and he’d never seen or felt anything more beautiful in his life.
Regardless of everything, having had you, however long for, had been his biggest blessing. His one true miracle. And for you, he’d do anything and everything. Even if meant going on without you, even if it meant getting over you. Having had the chance to taste your love was enough. It had to be.
Finally, he nodded, his voice trembling. “I promise.”
You pressed a soft kiss to his chest, right above his heart, your tears soaking into his shirt. “Thank you.”
The two of you lay there, clinging to each other as though you could freeze time, as though the night would never end. The question of whether you’d still be there in the morning loomed over you both, unspoken but ever-present. But for now, you had this moment, and being in each other's arms made itself enough to silence your fears for a handful of moments.
The seconds stretched on, but they were like a blanket that could never cover you both. Spencer could feel it slipping away along with your incoming slumber, but the moment you shared lingered, somehow. And neither of you was willing to let it go.
Before either of you could realize it, sleep overtook you. Tear-stained cheeks pressed closely, arms entangled as if their mere closeness could defy nature's rules and keep you there a little longer. Let your warmth remain forever tingling on his skin.
In his dreams, Spencer had you. It didn’t feel painful, though. All he felt was your love. It overwhelmed his finally resting mind. It had been years since he’d had dreams like that, dreams that felt like a balm to his aching soul instead of thorns coiling all around his chest. It was as if the dreams were there to ease his heart through your departure—and in a way, they did. His sleep was peaceful and undisturbed, unlike the rest of his day. It healed him in a way.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, pale and soft, casting an eerie stillness over the room and pulling him back to sensibility. Spencer’s eyes fluttered open slowly, his body surprisingly light despite the weight of sleep, but there was something else—an ache that gripped his chest. He reached out instinctively, but his hand met only the cold sheets beside him.
The bed was empty. The house was quiet.
You were gone.
For a moment, he lay still, hoping that you’d walk back in, your smile lighting up the room. But the silence stretched on, and he knew.
You weren't there, and you’d never be again.
He closed his eyes tightly, a sharp pang cutting through him as reality settled in. He missed the dreamland of sleep, where he was sheltered from the pain of reality and could only feel the light of your love. Of course you weren’t there. He’d known, deep down, that you wouldn’t be. The day before had been too perfect, too fleeting to be anything but a cruel dream.
Spencer lay there for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, his heart heavy and his throat tight. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to face the emptiness of the house without you. But then his phone buzzed on the nightstand, breaking the silence.
He reached for it with a trembling hand, his vision blurry as he read the message from Morgan:
["Merry Christmas, kid. I know this time of year is tough for you. I’ll swing by later to drop off your gift. Hang in there, alright?”]
Spencer sat up, frowning. Christmas? But… yesterday was Christmas… Wasn’t it? There was the shooting star on Christmas Eve, then he woke up with you the next morning and you spent Christmas day together, right? He stared at the message, confusion swirling in his mind.
If today was Christmas, then… when had you been here?
His heart raced as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his mind replaying every moment of the day before. It had felt so real—your touch, your laughter, the way you’d smiled at him like nothing had ever changed. Too real to be a dream. Too dreamlike to be real.
He pushed himself off the bed and made his way down the hall, his steps slow and hesitant. The house was quiet, almost unbearably so, and the absence of your presence was palpable.
Confusion stirred within him, but at the same time, it felt only natural. He had to have dreamed it, it was grief playing tricks on him once again. But still… if it had been a dream, it was one like none other he’d ever had. One that messed up his concept of time and reality, making him pinch his skin softly, as a reminder and confirmation of his own existence.
He was there. You weren’t.
Spencer turned on the radio, needing something—anything—to fill the silence, to quell his racing mind. The soft, mournful strains of Lover, You Should’ve Come Over by Jeff Buckley filled the room, the lyrics cutting through him like a knife. He’d never been one to relate much to music. He’d learned it from you, the beauty of song. This time it felt like a curse, though, the relatability of the mellow lyrics burning in his chest.
"Maybe I'm too young
To keep good love from going wrong
But tonight you're on my mind
So... you'll never know
Broken down and hungry for your love
With no way to feed it
Where are you tonight?
Child, ya know how much I need it
Too young to hold on
And too old to just break free and run"
He sat by the window, watching the snow falling. The ache in his chest was different now—not the sharp, relentless pain of loss, but something softer, warmer. He could still feel your hand in his, still hear your laugh echoing in his mind. And as the song played, each lyric seeming like it was leaving from his own lips, each chord sounding like it was being played from his own heartstrings, the moment sank in.
Maybe it wasn’t so bad that it had all been a dream after all. Maybe it was exactly what he needed. But yet, the warmth of your presence loomed over him with a heaviness that felt nearly unnatural. You had really been there, one way or another. He was sure of it.
"So I'll wait for you, love
And I'll burn
Will I ever see your sweet return?"
He could feel you. Even now. He knew it wasn’t over—it would never be.
“Merry Christmas,” he whispered to the silence, a tear slipping down his cheek.
And somewhere, he knew you were whispering it back.
He sank into the couch, his head in his hands as the song played on, each word twisting the knife deeper.
"It's never over
My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder
It's never over
All my riches for her smiles
When I've slept so soft against her
It's never over
All my blood for the sweetness of her laughter
It's never over
She is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever"
The tears came then, hot and unrelenting, as he mourned the loss of you all over again. Regardless of their newfound taste after the collection of memories he gathered with you, whether it was a dream or not, the bitterness in his tears remained unmistakable. 
But then, through the blur of his grief, something caught his eye. He froze, his breath hitching as he turned toward the window.
There, like a mirage—a window to the unknown, a sight he’d never expected—sitting on the porch railing, was the flower crown you’d made during the day before. Just where you’d left it. The lines between dream and reality blurred, but Spencer didn’t question it. You had been there. And that was enough.
"Lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late"
—————————————————————————————————
author's note 2: this is it!! i hope you guys enjoyed it, and thank you sooo much for reading it all the way! please share and let me know your thoughts on this :)
find me on other socials!
twitter: @/mrsholmesreid
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p.s.: i take requests, dm me!!
fanart :)
check out these amazing fanarts my dear friend cami (@/camiwhatuwant on twitter) drew for this story!! i'm in love, they're so perfect <3
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aximeck · 26 days ago
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Upon learning that the DC Universe has its own AO3 (called TO3), my friends and I went down the rabbit hole of asking "which DC superheroes and supervillains would be the subject of celebrity fanfic?" and other cursed considerations.
Here are a few of my favourites:
"Lex Luthor would buy TO3 and/or flood it with bot fics at the first sign of a Superman/Lex Luthor tag, because Lex refuses to be topped by Superman in any circumstances"
------
Friend 1: "Which of the Robins/Bat Kids would write slash fiction of their enemies?"
Friend 2: "If it's to be a public menace, it's Damian. If it's for the sheer sport of it, it's Barbara Gordon"
Friend 1: *WHEEZING*
Friend 3: "Of course it's fucking BARB."
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Dick Grayson: "Babs, PLEASE tell me you didn't kudos the mpreg fic of my dad and Connor Kent's dad."
Barbara Gordon: "Ew, of course not!"
DG: "Oh thank goodness."
BG: "I wrote the mpreg fic of my dad and your dad."
DG: *spittakes*
------
"Damian writes joke fics of the Rogues' Gallery so that people won't take them seriously."
The Joker: "I'm telling you...GIVE ME THE TREASURE!"
Millennial Museum Receptionist: "Wow, like Persona 5?"
Joker: *internal screaming*
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aebinspa · 3 months ago
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tell me somethin' i don't know
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PAIRING: gunwook x y/n reader
GENRES: fluff, gunwook is your brother's best friend (of course gyuvin is your brother), reader is a bit shy, they are the same age, reader is bad at math and gunwook is actually the solution to her problems!
WORD COUNT: 0.6k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: english is not my first language! i wrote this very short part about gunwook on the train and it will be the last thing i post for a while! i have already started to use my time to write a medium-length fic about karina that i hope will be better than the others i have written :) have a nice day!
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The room of Gunwook, your brother's best friend, was strangely clean. Even after looking for several minutes in every corner, to then accuse him of something, you couldn’t find anything. The room was small but welcoming and on one side there was the enormous desk, with the books you would need for revision.
Sure, you didn’t hate Gunwook, but finding yourself suddenly, from one day to the next, at the house of one of Gyuvin’s most popular friends wasn’t exactly relaxing. Your brother Gyuvin certainly had everything a woman or a man could be interested in, but once you got to know him you couldn’t help but notice that he was missing something: a bit of tact.
“Y/n, you’re already here, ah” Gunwook, surprised, entered the room and closed the door behind him. Gunwook was popular, too popular for your tastes. You were the same age, you attended the same school but not the same section. The desperate sighs and screams you heard when you passed in front of his classroom, always surrounded by fans, made you turn on your heels every time.
If you had to describe your relationship with him, perhaps you would have reduced it to those greetings you sometimes exchanged when your eyes met. Nothing more. Except for one small detail: you too, like many others, found him extremely attractive and, on several occasions, he had shown you that he was kinder than Gyuvin’s other friends.
“Mathematics doesn't really get into your head, does it?” a bright smile almost made you regret not being very good with numbers. “Yeah. And Gyuvin decided to make my problem your problem, too,” you said, emphasizing the “your,” and the young man laughed. “We’ll show Gyuvin that the two of us are better than two Gyuvins.” This time it was you who laughed. “We are, without a doubt.”
Gunwook spent the next three hours explaining to you in detail everything you didn’t understand and, when necessary, he stopped to let you take a break. Sometimes your hands would touch and your breathing would synchronize; you tried desperately not to make it obvious that you weren’t indifferent to that closeness. Once you finished reviewing all the notes you had brought with you, you thanked Gunwook with a weak “thank you” to which he responded with a huge smile full of warmth.
“Well, Gyuvin didn't do anything wrong in calling me to help you.” “Sometimes he knows how to make himself useful!” you replied a little too enthusiastically, immediately ending up embarrassed by your own words. “Y/n, whenever you want, I’m always willing to give you a hand” “You don’t have to” You accidentally met your gaze in the nearby mirror and noticed the redness on your cheeks. What an idiot I am.
“Let me put it this way.” Gunwook settled back in his chair and took your hands in his, causing you to yelp a little, to which the boy responded by tilting his head and laughing, whispering “How stupid you are.” “Um, tell me.” “Next time, let’s go to a nice coffee shop to study or the library. Anywhere you like. I have an overwhelming urge to take you out on a date.” Your head was spinning a little, so you held his hands tighter as if seeking support.
“Maybe you got the wrong girl” That toothy smile didn't seem to leave Gunwook's face. “I don’t think that’s possible. I, well,” Gunwook ran his hand through his hair, “I need to get to know you better. Every time I talk to you or simply look at you my heart does flips. I don't know how I got through today's lesson without kissing or touching you."
"Oh, okay" “Is it a yes, Y/n?” Gunwook was now closer than expected. “Yes, I feel the same so how could I say no to you?” You were the same color as a tomato. Gunwook came closer and closed the distance between you by giving you a chaste and sweet kiss. You responded with a huff.
“You’re good with women” “Tell me something I don’t know, Y/n”
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ickle-ronniekins · 1 month ago
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the things we left unspoken
 pairing: george x fem!reader
word count: 1.4k
warning(s): angst, breakups, substance abuse
desc: wrote this years ago and never published it and then went through one of the most horribly confusing and heart-rending breakups ever! there’s not a whole ton of my old fic writer friends are still here so this is going to hit a new audience if there is still a weasley twins audience on here -- hi, i’m erica, i wrote obsessively for the weasley twins years back. sometimes i still do, for my own enjoyment. though this one hurts and george sucks. i don’t normally do that because i’m in love with him but this is a bit different. sorry
Age 23, Present Day
“No... How dare you come here and tell me this now?”
George feels his chest constrict a bit; his breathing is heavy, as if he’s just run a marathon, which he certainly feels like. It has taken him every bit of his strength to not come to your doorstep and admit to something he should have years ago. He’s absolutely bloody exhausted from fighting an internal battle with himself for this long.
In all of your years aside one another, he’d never quite seen you so angry as this. Your mouth, otherwise normally twisted into some lopsided smile, is now in a thin, firm line. Your jaw is tensed, and he knows from all of those evenings next to you in bed that you’re certainly clenching your teeth because of the stress you surely are feeling from him showing up unannounced. He wishes not to know that. Or actually, if he’s being honest, he wishes that he still spent that time with you in bed, and instead of grinding your teeth together, you’d giggle open-mouthed as he’d press ticklish kisses to the space between your collarbones. Your eyes are ocean blue and stormy and grey at the same time, and he doesn’t quite relish the idea of mustering up any strength he has left to whether the ups and downs of the impending tide.
Though you’re standing your ground, he sees your lip wobble just a smidge and it sends daggers straight through his heart. He swore that day, the day when everything had blown up, that he would never, ever make you cry again. It was the day he thought would be the worst of his life. How painfully wrong he was. Your voice is wobbly now, too. "You had no right to come here and say these things.”
You’re right, of course. He knows that. He doesn’t have any right. He’d lost that privilege the evening you’d taken every stolen glance, every evening kiss, every morning after and laid them out in front of you both, tangled in the web of your own vulnerability. He’d lost any and all privileges when it came to you, when he’d turned everything down, pretending that he didn’t feel exactly the same way you did, pretending it wasn’t what it truly was. Pretending he didn’t love you. He’s so stupid, wasn’t he? Though of course, he’d only rejected them because he thought he’d be protecting you.
There’s nothing he could say now to make things better. Shit. He’s cursing himself upright and backwards; he should’ve just kept his bloody mouth shut like Ron had said.
“I know I have no right,” George starts, and he’s surprised himself with how many emotions are jam packed into those six words. He suddenly feels as though something rather sharp has become lodged in his chest. He places his hands into his pockets and looks up wearily to meet your gaze. Your eyes are still grey, but softened now, as if the storm has drifted out to sea. For a very fleeting moment, he sees traces of that girl from years ago, the one who would run up stealthily to the boys dormitory and hide in his four poster with the curtains drawn until he arrived, quiet so as not to disturb his roommates, with a grin so large and mischievous it could’ve cured him of every anxious thought he ever had. He considers your vulnerability, the traces of what had been, and wants to lean in and kiss you if the moral compass in his head wasn’t screaming at him to not do so right this very moment. Just as well, he thinks, because that fleeting moment in your eyes had disappears as quickly as it had arrived. You’re backing away now, into your front doorway.
He wants to search each and every book all the Wizarding libraries had to offer, because there has to be a spell to turn back time without necessarily meddling with it, right? He can’t stand the idea of using a time turner and possibly fucking up more than he already has.
But if he could turn back time without any consequences, he’d go right back to that night, no questions asked, no time to ponder, and he’d tell you that he loves you.
He’d go right back to when you stood across from him in the rain and told him that you fell for him, even though you promised not too, because what you two were doing was something with no strings attached. You’d both agreed to it, from that first moment he’d kissed you so furiously on the abandoned Quidditch pitch. You never meant to fall for him. You really hadn’t. But you couldn’t help it. And George knew it, too. He’d told himself when you two started this whole thing that someone was bound to get hurt in the end, but he hadn’t been thinking straight then, had he? He was distracted by the heat of your lips exploring his body, by the way your hands always got tangled in his hair and left it messy looking, by the way you’d steal glances at him from across rooms, and from the intense sensual energy you two exchanged in those glances, noting that only you two knew what was going on behind closed doors.
He’d go back to that moment and tell you that he loved you too, and he didn’t care what people thought, because he’s loved you for years, now. He’d loved you ever since that one night when you two were lying in bed and he’d been playing with your hair, and he was joking and going on about something about the test products for the shop, and you continued to trace your finger along his biceps, and casually let it slip how proud you were of him.
You two had agreed that feelings wouldn’t be involved, and yet feelings seemed to be what kept you both from ending things. Until that one night in the rain.
He’d tell you that he didn’t care how you two started, tangled up in bed sheets and one another’s limbs without commitment to one another. All he cares about is how you two end, where commitment is all he bloody wants to give you now.
But he can’t. He can’t go back in time -- not without dire consequences.
There’s a type of yearning in your eyes. He was used to you longing -- for five more minutes, for one more kiss, for a tighter embrace. The truth was, he longed for all of those thing too. He still does.
But this is a different type. This is a type of yearning he can’t quite get on board with, but he knows he has too. If he loves you, truly loves you, he has too. He can practically hear your voice in his head, though your lips aren’t moving. I’m trying to move on, George, and you’re not letting me.
“I’m sorry.. I just needed you to know.” He manages to say shakily. And he tests fate and takes five more seconds, just five more, to memorize you -- the curve of your jaw, the colours in your hair, the intensity of your gaze, because he doesn’t want to forget. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to look at you like this again.
Another dagger to his heart, he lets his gaze drop and turns around before he can’t stop himself from running toward you and kissing you anyway. He doesn’t turn back; he can’t face the girl who’s heart he’s broken once, twice. He can’t bear to do it again. He hears the door shut and stops dead in his tracks, closes his eyes and lets the tears escape them easily. His feet are stuck on the cobblestone street; he can’t leave. But it’s too damn late now.
He never meant for it to get this far, had he? Neither of you had.
Pride is such a stupid thing, and he’s cursed himself for letting it be of higher importance than you. You were the only thing that mattered -- then, and now.
His evening in his flat he shared with Fred above the shop is filled with bottomless drinks until he can’t see straight, and long gazes out of the rain-covered window panes as he tests prototypes for new items. Drunk on anger, and heartbreak, and confusion, he speaks aloud to nobody, if only to remind himself that this pain he feels is real, bona fide, as the crack in his heart draws larger and deeper.
“I'll always fucking love you.”
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only-lonely-star · 6 months ago
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Could you write a fic where the reader is Pony's friend, had been for a while but Pony doesn't really bring her up because he doesn't want the guys to tease him even though they really are just friends. Her home life is getting rough so Pony gave her his address and told her to crash with them if it ever gets to be too much. She ends up going one night and climbs in through Pony's window (she had gone with him to pick up tge book she wanted to borrow one day after school) and climbs into his bed not realizing him and Soda share a bed. Her and Pony are pretty happy cuddling eachother so she thinks nothing of it but it ends up being Soda and not Pony?
Lots of detail sorry lol just love your work and would love to see this come to life!
୨୧ ⁠♡ Night to Remember ⁠♡ ୨୧
~ Ponyboy Curtis, Sodapop Curtis ~
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Warnings - This is somewhat sad in the beginning and how I worded a few things makes the situation for the reader sad. It’s nothing too bad, only minor arguing and yelling. Neglectful and abusive parents. Besides that, this story is sort of a funny one in a way. I decided it’s best to classify it as ‘fluff with a side of angst’ 😭
Summary - Escaping your toxic household to the Curtis’s house with…a twist?
Author’s Note - I GASPED when I first read this request, thank you so much for submitting!! I’m so glad you like my writings. I hope I wrote it well! Enjoy 🫶🏼
Word Count - 1.9k.
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Walking up the steps to your small house on the hill, you could already hear the distant screams from your parents. They constantly argued only to make up the next day and argue all over again by nightfall. It was an endless loop you seemed to be stuck in - wishing you were anywhere else but home. The walk home was always fun, up until Ponyboy turned the corner and left you to finish the walk on your lonesome. Strolling down the street as the sun slowly set on a cold fall evening calmed you.
Unlocking the door with the spare key, you saw a broken glass bottle smashed along the cracked wooden flooring. Your parent’s constant hollering seemed to worsen as you stepped foot inside.
“Go! Just get out - take your daughter with you!” Your mother hollered to your old man who seemed utterly fed up with her. You looked between them with fear in your eyes, confused as to what you had done to be put into this mess.
“I just got home, what are you on about?” Your voice came out, thicker and more bitter sounding than you had expected. Your mother’s cold eyes aligned with yours, an uncomfortable amount of emotions flooding over you.
“I said get out!” she yelled louder than before, clearly displeased with your presence, “You don’t do a damn thing to live here! You don’t pay a single bill or work a job - all you do is hang out with those hoodlums!”
Your mind darted to thoughts of your good friend, Ponyboy. His words echoed in your mind, tuning out your own mother’s as she continued to holler.
”Come whenever you need to, okay? If it ever gets too hard on you back at your place…you’re welcome at mine…”
You brushed past your father’s tense shoulder, not caring to argue further. It calmed you to know you had a safe haven to escape to on nights like this. Ponyboy would be warm and welcoming just like a family should.
Drowning out the shouting that continued on, you began the trek to the Curtis’ home - book bag and all. Striding down the sidewalk, you slipped your hand into the side pocket of your tattered backpack. A crinkled piece of paper was retrieved; Ponyboy’s address was scribbled on it in blue ink. You’d never been there, but you knew him well enough to have heard about his own family issues. The loss of his parents which left him and his two older brothers to fend for themselves seemed scary. It made you feel a sense of gratitude to still have parents even if they were horrible to you.
The sun seemed to have set, stranding you amid the crisp air and the occasional streetlight ahead. Only a bit further and you’d be there. Convincing yourself you’d have a better stay at Ponyboy’s home was very comforting. You could both catch up on some reading or maybe even smoke a bit if he’d lend you a cigarette. Before you knew it, there you were. The same scribbled address on the paper matched the street and house number you had walked to.
Taking a deep breath, you approached the front door with a pit in your stomach. It seemed quiet; too quiet. Backing away from it, your anxiety had gotten the best of you.
”I’ll just use the window,” is what you said to yourself, kicking away small twigs and leaves to pry it open. You slid the window up, slipping yourself through the crack you managed to open.
The room was dark, a limp body lying underneath the olive-colored comforter. You smiled fondly. Ponyboy was already asleep - a strange sight to see since it was still a bit too early to wind down for the night. You let out a small sigh of victory knowing you could finally relax in a much quieter space than your parent's home. You carefully slipped the straps of your backpack off, mindful to not wake Ponyboy.
“Close that damn door,” he murmured, his voice raspy and sleepy. You instantly felt a pang of guilt for waking him. You set your bag down beside the small wooden desk that was pushed beside the bed. With a swift movement, you shut the window from the inside.
Ponyboy lay in a white oversized t-shirt, his back facing you as he curled himself up into a ball underneath the bedding. You glanced around the bedroom before joining him in bed. You kicked your shoes off, spreading open the sheets and comforter.
“How was school?” the voice spoke in a drowsy state. You decided to not ramble on and let him rest. Besides- you were the guest here.
“It was nice,” you replied softly. You were starting to feel sleepy as well, all of that walking surely paid off. Snuggling underneath the bedding, you felt him shove some of the sheets your way to cut you a bit of slack.
“You cold?” he asks, his head slowly turning to glance at you. Your back was facing his, the only source of light being the pale moonlight seeping through the window. You mustered a small head nod.
The warm touch of his arm suddenly draped over your waist was unexpected but welcomed nonetheless. He nuzzled the tip of his nose to rest against your spine, exhaling with a soft chuckle. “You smell like a little girl or something,” he teased light-heartedly.
You let out a forced laugh, not totally understanding the punchline to his little joke there. His voice was awfully deep; something you didn’t remember Ponyboy’s voice to sound like. He sounded like he had more of a southern drawl now as well. Hell- your voice became naturally deep when you were sluggish but nothing like Ponyboy’s sudden change.
Your eyes fluttered shut, the gentle hug from behind causing a wave of sleepiness to wash over you. Your breathing slowed, signaling you felt at ease for once. It was a nice contrast to the nagging hollers from your parents- that was for sure. Ponyboy seemed to relax further, a deep sigh being released from his lips. He nuzzled his face closer, “Pony, did you ever take out that trash?”
You froze, lifting your head in utter confusion. You glanced down to find a random man you’d never seen a day in your life. Panicked - you let out a scream and scrambled off the bed, falling to your ass on the cold wooden floor, taking the sheets with you.
The scream startled the stranger as well, sitting straight up in the bed - what was left of the bedding covering his lower half. “Who the hell are you?!”
Your eyes flung open, standing from the floor in a swift second. You stammered over your own words for a moment, trying to get them out. “Where’s Ponyboy?!”
He glanced at you and then to the open door where both Ponyboy and his eldest brother stood, shock etched on their faces. Your immediate shock subsided once you reestablished that this was in fact the correct house, and you’d perhaps slipped into the wrong bedroom.
Ponyboy pushed past his other brother, muttering a slur of words under his breath. “Oh no…no, no, no…”
His siblings exchanged confused glances, the oldest on the brink of a migraine. He pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. Ponyboy stood beside you, dragging your arm and ushering you by the window for a bit of space. He could see the messy attempt you’d made in trying to shut the window and locking it back up firmly. “Damn it, why didn’t you knock on the door?” he questions, glancing behind him to see the boy in the bed rushing to slip on a decent pair of pants.
Your eyes were staring into his with a look of guilt and confusion. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know this wasn’t your bedroom!”
You flung your arms in the air, innocence in your expression clear as day. Ponyboy sighed and rubbed his temple using his middle and index finger, adding pressure to the spot. His lips curled into a soft smile, the laugh echoing in the room. “I share a room with Sodapop over there,” he cracked up at the lack of information he’d given you, resulting in this whole encounter.
Sodapop’s eyes met yours, a rather apologetic and embarrassed look sewn onto his face although a bit of a grin was visible. With this newfound information, you quickly put the pieces together and realized the other brother was Darrel. You let out a deep exhale, your own giggle slipping out.
“I am so sorry…” you began, your flushed cheeks and smile being quickly covered by your hand, “Pony, I blame you for not telling me!”
You swatted his arm before placing both hands over your mouth, the embarrassment lingering. Both Sodapop and Darrel couldn’t help but chuckle - this big mishap was too hilarious to just brush off. Sodapop stood from the bed and ran a hand through his greasy combed combed-back hair before approaching the two of you.
“Pony, why didn’t you tell me you were at that age you start bringin’ girls home?” he teased, wrapping his arm around Ponyboy’s neck from behind and giving him a good noogie to mess up his hair. Ponyboy giggled, attempting to pry Sodapop’s arm off and away. Darrel stood at the doorway, nearly about to throw a fit at the mention of it.
“We’re friends, I told her she could come over when her folks got into fighting and stuff again,” he explained, trying to save the friendship from becoming awkward at his brother’s teasing.
Sodapop’s eyes had a slight shift in expression, but he reached a hand out to you nonetheless. He smiled warmly and looked down at you. “Soda,” he introduced himself so friendly to you that you nearly forgot how you screamed at the first sight of him.
You returned the smile with one of your own and shook his hand firmly. He spoke up again, nudging Ponyboy with a laugh. “Ponyboy’s got the voice of a girl - I was convinced that was you talkin’ to me!”
Ponyboy retaliated, shooting a glare at him. Before he could say much more, Darrel stepped closer and held his hand out to me as well. The introduction went smoothly, his hand was quite large but perfect for firm handshakes. “I’m Darrel…Darry.”
For once you felt welcomed inside of a home. You felt an immense amount of gratitude for Ponyboy and his cordial brothers who didn’t seem to mind your company at all.
Darrel stepped aside and motioned to you for the door, gently pushing Ponyboy’s shoulder to follow. “Ponyboy, get her familiar with the couch if she’s stayin’!”
He did as told and picked up your backpack to carry towards the living room. He sat you down as Sodapop’s charming laughter echoed down the hallway.
“Next time just knock, okay? Better yet, come right in. The door is never locked,” Ponyboy instructed with a small head shake following that up with a giggle, “You’re welcome anytime.”
You grinned from ear to ear at the strangely new feeling of belonging. Welcome anytime? Was this a dream?
Before you knew it, you had your arms around Ponyboy’s neck, trapping him in a tight hug to show how thankful you truly were. It was safe to say this was a night you’d never forget.
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