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lyvhie · 2 days ago

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── .✦ technically... he found your inner self

park jisung x fem!reader

𓂃 ࣪˖ summary: a bad decision about something that was supposed to be fun led your boyfriend to deal with things with his very own hands (quite literally) 𓂃 ࣪˖ cw: smut, public sex, fingering, unprotected sex, pet names. 𓂃 ࣪˖ a/n: errmm... so, i'm kinda busy with college right now, but i'm working on your requests, wait for me! ANYWAYS, ENJOY, FRIENDS!!!!!!!

You know those videos where Haechan drags Jisung around, and he just follows without complaining? That’s exactly how Jisung is with you.

If you wanted to do something, he’d do it with you—no matter if he wasn’t particularly excited or didn’t want to. He just liked seeing you happy. That’s why he let you drag him to all sorts of things—spontaneous late-night drives, random cooking challenges that always ended in a mess, even that one pottery class where he nearly destroyed his clay piece within the first five minutes.

And that’s also why he was okay with you bringing him to this stupid spiritual retreat, just because you thought it would be fun, even though he knew you wouldn't last too long without at least a small dose of internet to keep your brain entertained.

“Baby, can you please stay still?” Jisung whispered in your ear as you kept shifting around on the futon, trying not to wake up the other people in the room.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered back. “I’m feeling too… energized.”

It was another day of connecting with nature, finding your inner peace, and listening to the guru drone on about vague spiritual nonsense during the morning classes.

You needed to do something that actually made you feel active. It was unbearable to end the day without exhausting yourself. You couldn’t find the urge to sleep, unlike your boyfriend, who seemed to have no problem with it.

“We didn’t do anything again, and we still have three more days of this,” you complained, tossing and turning. The room was faintly illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the thin curtains of the large window.

Jisung sighed, rubbing his face before turning onto his side to look at you. "You're the one who dragged us here," he reminded you, voice groggy with sleep. "And now you're complaining?"

You huffed, staring up at the ceiling. "I thought it would be fun! I didn't think we'd just sit around all day listening to some old guy talk about breathing."

Jisung snorted. "That's literally what a retreat is."

You turned your head to glare at him in the dim light. "Well, I regret it."

He chuckled softly. "I knew you would," he murmured, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you firmly against him, his face burying into the curve of your neck. "I think I can help with that, baby.”

You blinked, feeling the warmth of his breath tickling your skin. “Oh? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” you asked, a playful lilt to your voice.

Jisung hummed, pressing a lazy kiss to your neck. “Well, if you can’t tire yourself out, I guess I’ll just have to do it for you.” His voice was low, teasing, but there was something in his tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

His hand slipped under your shirt, warm fingers tracing slow, lazy circles over your belly.

"Okay, I know what you're thinking," you began, voice hushed but firm. "Absolutely not. There are people in the room."

Jisung only chuckled, his breath fanning against your skin. "Then you just need to be quiet," he murmured, his hand drifting lower, fingers teasing at the waistband of your shorts.

Before you could even think about wriggling away to stop him, his other arm slid beneath you, holding you firmly in place as he pressed another lingering kiss just below your ear.

"Jisung…" you warned, trying to sound firm, though the heat pooling between your legs betrayed you.

"Just be quiet and enjoy," he murmured, his hand slipping under your shorts, fingers gliding over your slick folds, making your breath hitch. "No panties, hm?" he mused, his voice dripping with amusement as he traced slow, teasing circles. "Were you waiting for this?"

He nipped at your earlobe, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine as you pressed your lips together, trying to suppress a gasp.

He didn’t hesitate, slipping two fingers inside you at once, your slickness making the intrusion effortless. The sudden stretch had a moan slipping past your lips before you could stop it, and you hurriedly clapped a hand over your mouth, heart pounding as you glanced at the other couples sleeping just a few feet away.

“I told you to be quiet,” he nuzzled his nose against your neck affectionately, his words carrying both amusement and a hint of warning.

"I'm sorry," you mewled softly, your voice barely above a whisper as he began pumping his fingers in and out of you at a steady, delicious pace. The heel of his palm pressed against your clit with each movement, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Instinctively, you parted your legs just a little more, giving him better access, he took full advantage of it, a satisfied hum leaving his lips as he quickened his pace.

"Spreading your legs so easily for me… you must’ve really wanted this, huh?” he chuckled, amusement laced in his voice. "Bet you’ve been thinking about this the whole time we’ve been here,” his words sent a rush of heat straight to your core, making you whimper softly against your palm. “Poor thing… should’ve told me sooner. I would’ve had you crying on my fingers hours ago.”

His fingers moved with purpose now, curling perfectly inside you, pressing against that spot that made your toes curl. “You’re so mean,” you managed to whisper, your voice breathless as you tried to glare at him over your shoulder.

Jisung only chuckled again, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “And yet you’re squeezing around me like you love it,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

He rubbed his fingers against your gummy walls, feeling the tightness, the heat, as he slowly scissored them apart—just enough to stretch you without overwhelming you. His thumb found your clit, rubbing in slow, steady circles, giving it the attention it desperately needed. You didn’t know how you were managing to stay quiet, but somehow, your moans came out soft, muffled, barely escaping your lips as your body trembled beneath his touch.

He smiled lazily at your restraint, admiring how well you held yourself together—it was cute, how you were trying to stay quiet, even as your body betrayed you. His long fingers moved in perfect sync, thrusting deep into you, rubbing against that sensitive spot inside while his thumb expertly flicked against your clit, giving you equal pleasure.

You were getting so close, the pressure building with each motion, your body trembling with need. You pushed your hips down to meet his thrusts, chasing your climax as your breath quickened, desperate to release the tension he was expertly drawing out of you.

“I know you want to come,” he smiled, his thumb flicking faster against your clit. “Go ahead and let go. You can’t hold back much longer, can you?”

The knot forming in your core suddenly untied, and with a soft, desperate whimper, you came undone. Your body spasmed slightly at the feeling, milking his fingers as they continued to move inside you, coaxing every last bit of release from you.

“That was good,” you whispered breathlessly, gulping as you glanced around the room to make sure no one had heard you. The soft, lingering aftershocks of your release still made your body tremble, but you almost didn’t notice when he gently grabbed your leg, pulling it over him. He was still spooning you, his chest pressed to your back, his warmth surrounding you as he held you close.

“Jisung?” You raised your brows lightly in confusion, your voice soft, but the sound of his name still carried an edge of uncertainty. He simply hummed in response, his hand gently brushing the tip of his cock against your glistening pussy, making you gasp softly. When had he pulled his pants down? “Baby, we already—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, his voice low and insistent, as he rubbed his length against your clit, teasing you. The friction sent a jolt of sensitivity through your body, and you could barely contain the moan that escaped your lips. Your body was still so sensitive from your last orgasm. “I told you to be quiet and enjoy,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’m helping you, remember?”

You didn’t even have a chance to respond before he slid his hard cock inside you, the motion effortless as you were already a mess, so ready for him. The sensation of him filling you, stretching you to the brim, made you cry out his name, and a soft, relieved sigh left his lips in response.

“You can’t stay quiet like that, can you?” he teased, his voice low and commanding. “I’ll help you, sweetie.” Without waiting for a response, he pushed his fingers into your mouth, silencing you, while his hips began to move at a slow pace.

He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he continued to fuck you slowly, pressing his fingers against your tongue to make sure you stayed silent. His other arm held you close, locking you in place. There was no rush from him, just steady, deep thrusts that made you feel weightless, like you were melting beneath him. You couldn’t help but drool on his finger as your muffled moans escaped, barely audible to him, each movement of his pushing you closer to the edge once again.

The slow pace made your body burn with need, every inch of him stretching you as you clenched around him, desperate for more. He felt the way your hips bucked against his, silently begging for something faster, but he just held you in place, his grip firm yet loving.

“Just let me take care of you,” he cooed, his palm gliding over your belly in a slow, affectionate caress. He pressed down just enough to make you feel every inch of him buried inside, the pressure almost making you roll your eyes to the back of your head. Your thighs trembled, your walls gripping him tighter in response.

“Just like that,” he hummed in approval, and as he felt the way you sucked on his fingers. His hand drifted from your stomach back down to your clit, pinching it roughly—just enough to make you jolt—before soothing the sting with slow, firm rubs, keeping you right where he wanted you.

His movements remained slow, deep and unrelenting, pushing into you with precision, making sure you felt every inch of him. His fingers on your clit moved faster, the pleasure teetering on the edge of overwhelming. “Come on, baby, give me another,” he coaxed, his breath hot against your ear. “I know you can.”

The overstimulation was too much, the combination of his words, his deep thrusts, and the relentless attention to your clit sending you spiraling. Your body tensed, your walls clamping down around him as you came again, legs shaking in his hold.

“That’s it,” he cooed, pulling his fingers from your mouth, a thin string of saliva breaking as he did. His hand trailed down, gripping your thigh and caressing the soft skin on the inside, his touch gentle in contrast to the deep, slow thrusts he used to fuck you through your high, drawing out every last pulse of pleasure.

“So good for me, baby,” he murmured, his voice warm with praise as he turned your face toward him. His lips met yours in a soft, unhurried kiss, slow and deep, just like the way he had just fucked you.

As he pulled away from the kiss, your breath was still uneven, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady yourself. He pressed a few soft kisses against your cheeks, grounding you, until your breathing slowly returned to normal. Then, with a satisfied sigh, you melted against him, snuggling closer as he wrapped his arms around you, adjusting the blankets over both of you. His touch had done more than just soothe you, now, you were fighting off a yawn.

“You should replace that fake guru,” you murmured sleepily, your voice laced with drowsy amusement.

He chuckled, pulling you even closer. “Are you saying I should fuck everyone who signs up for this useless retreat?”

“…Never mind.”

↝ taglist: @yizhrt, @sinisxtea, @peterm4rker.

#park jisung x reader #jisung x reader #nct x reader #jisung smut #park jisung smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut

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nonranghaes · 3 days ago

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heads up! poly fic. food mentions. soonyoung in the kitchen.

"there's our baby!" soonyoung coos from beside you the moment jihoon trudges out of the bedroom, all too aware of how he's still not quite awake yet. he doesn't give anything away, though, and neither do you as soonyoung grins, "good morning!"

"it's almost five in the afternoon." jihoon rubs at his eyes with one hand, stopping to furrow his brows. he thought he smelled something burnt... but he'd tried to push back on the thought for a few more minutes of sleep. the two of you were here, he could hear your chatter through the door, you would have yelled for him if he needed to get up. but you're too... happy. cooking with soonyoung usually results in the two of you bickering harmlessly over silly things, mainly soonyoung trying to latch onto you for affection. "what are you two burning?"

immediately, the two of you exchange a look and go back to prepping ingredients. slowly, jihoon takes in the sight of the kitchen. the nearest window is still cracked open. the reusable grocery bags haven't been put away yet when he knows he put them away after your last trip (because, as much as he loves the two of you, you always end up forgetting). there's some packaging atop the trash that hasn't been dealt with yet...

"this is why i don't take naps when you cook." he makes his way over, arms wrapping around your waist as he presses his face against your back. "was it you or him?"

soonyoung gasps in mock offense. "maybe vernon came over. he burns things, too."

"the oil was too hot so we burnt the veggies," you say, a little too sad. you're playing up whatever pout is on your face, and jihoon doesn't even have to look to know he's right. "sorry, jihoonie."

soonyoung abandons his work to come up behind him, stretching his arms so that he can embrace both of you. "sorry, jihoonie," he teases with a giggle. "i'm not touching the stove anymore."

jihoon pulls one hand back so that he can reach up and pat soonyoung's cheek. "at least you're both cute," he softly teases, squeezing you around your middle as best as he can with his other arm. "let me help. we'll get everything done faster that way."

"oooh, chef jihoonie," you tease a little as he unravels himself from between the two of you. he gives soonyoung a quick kiss on the cheek, and then plants one on you as well before moving to get a spare cutting board out.

and if it leads to the three of you standing together, prepping ingredients as soonyoung launches into a story about something he did with seungcheol the other day, then jihoon is fine with that. as long as he's with the two people he loves most, he'll always be happy... even with the burnt smell still lingering in the kitchen.

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krirebr · 3 days ago

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All Things Go 1

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Female Reader

Word Count: ~2.9k

Summary: It's been a few months since Steve was pulled out of the ice and immediately had to fight aliens with the newly formed Avengers. He is doing fine with all that, all things considered. Which is why he's so upset when he's suddenly benched from missions and forced to welcome a support omega into his home. He's fine!

Warnings: Angst (with an eventual happy ending), panic attack, disassociation flashback, Steve actually having to deal with the PTSD and depression and anxiety he would so clearly have if he'd been through everything in the MCU, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, possible slow burn - we'll see All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by me

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Oh boy. Here I am. Back on my angsty bullshit. This story was kickstarted by this ask. It's an inverse of the program at the center of Still Life, but not in the same universe.

This idea was helped along a ton by @stellar-solar-flare who helped me overcome my fear of writing a mostly canon compliant Steve and dipping my toes into an Avengers AU.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Steve checked his watch for a third time as he paced around his apartment. It was bad enough that he had to indulge this ridiculous idea, but she was late on top of it. Four minutes, now. He’d been pacing for the last fifteen. He’d tried to sit down while he waited, but the buzz of the adrenaline just under his skin had been too strong.

It was the disrespect, that’s what it was, that really bothered him in her tardiness. That was going around lately. A whole team that refused to listen to him. And then had the gall to go to Fury behind his back after what happened during the last mission. And yes, of course, it was all couched in concern. But he saw it for what it was: a mutiny. And he’d been benched because of it. From all missions for the foreseeable future. So what was he supposed to do now? Thawed out 70 years in the future just to be stranded without a purpose.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. No, the worst part was now six minutes late. A support omega. He’d scoffed right in Fury’s face when he’d “suggested” it. Of all the stupid, 21st-century things he’d encountered, this took the cake. Like there could possibly be some base alpha part of him that was so broken it could only be soothed by an omega with a degree in psychology. Ridiculous. He was fine!

But it’d been the kind of suggestion that didn’t come with the option to say no. Not if he ever wanted to get back on the team. So fine. He’d play nice, show her there was nothing wrong, and get her to sign off on him going back into the field. He’d be back in action in just a few days. And then he might be able to breathe again.

As he was about to start another lap of his living room, the doorbell finally chimed. He took a moment, so as not to seem like he’d been standing right next to it. Then he took a deep breath, pasted on that Captain America smile, and opened the door. “Hi,” he said, immediately stepping aside to give you room. “Come on in.”

“Captain Rogers,” you said with your own big smile as you introduced yourself, then picked up your valise from the ground beside you and stepped into his apartment. You were sharply dressed, professional. In how you held yourself, too. But your eyes were warm. And you were beautiful. It reminded him of some of the nicer omegas Buck used to go out with. There was a sharp pang in his chest. Like always, he ignored it.

“Thank you for welcoming me into your home.” you continued. As if he’d had any sort of choice. “I’m so sorry I’m late. The security checks took longer than I’d expected.”

“No problem at all,” he said. Ten whole minutes. “I hadn’t even noticed. Here, let me put your bag in the room I set aside for you.”

“Oh, a guest room?” you asked. He stopped at your question, a little confused. Where else would you sleep? “That’s very thoughtful of you. I’ll definitely appreciate having my own space. But, sleeping arrangements are something we can discuss and customize to fit our goals. Sharing a bed can be really helpful if sleep is something you’re struggling with.”

Absolutely not. No. Definitely not. “Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary,” he demurred. “With the serum, I really don’t require much sleep,” he called down to you as he quickly took your bag to the small guest room he’d finally furnished because he had to have somewhere to put you. It’d never occurred to him you’d want to share his bed. Did people really do that?

When he came back into the living room, you were still hovering by the door, your messenger bag slung over your shoulder and your hands clasped in front of you. You were looking around, taking in the blank walls, spartan furniture. Judging him probably. Well, it’s not like he’d had much time to decorate in between saving the world. What did any of that matter? “Can I get you anything to drink? Eat?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine,” you said, with a benign smile that seemed aggressively professional. “If you don’t mind, I’d love if we could sit and chat for a few minutes before we move on to anything else.”

“Of course,” he said, with his own benign smile, as he gestured to the two couches that had come with the apartment. He waited for you to sit in one and then took a seat in the other, a mass-produced coffee table covering the chasm between you.

“First,” you said, your hands resting neatly in your lap, “I just wanted to make sure that my scent is one you’re comfortable having in your home on a long-term basis. I know that the real thing can sometimes be a little different than the sample you based your choice off of.”

Steve had just randomly grabbed one from the box he’d been presented with. He’d thrown it at Fury with a grumbled, “That one’s fine,” as he left the small room they’d given him to make his choice. He’d never even opened it.

He only got a vague hint of it now, sitting across the room from you. Floral maybe. He didn’t bother to take a deep breath, to catalogue it. You’d only be here for a few days max. Not enough time for your scent to permeate. So, it didn’t really matter what he thought about it.

“Yes, it’s fine,” he nodded at you.

“Good,” you said, your smile becoming slightly more genuine. “Well, first I can take a few minutes to talk through what it is we’re going to be doing here. I'm sure you've already gotten the whole spiel, but it might be helpful to hear it from my perspective. Get a feel for how I do things.”

You paused like you were waiting for a response so he nodded along. “Sure, sounds great.” He already knew what the program was. He already knew he didn’t need it. This was a waste of time.

“Mostly, I’m just here to help you as an alpha get back to feeling like your most grounded, best self. Stability and comfort are mainly what I’m here to provide. Listening and guidance too, if that’s what you want. This is fully customizable, very collaborative. I’m not a therapist, but I do have my masters in behavioral psychology. And I’ve been doing this for a while now. So whatever you throw at me, I can handle it. Basically, this arrangement can look like whatever the two of us want it to look like. The biggest requirement, on both sides, is honesty.”

He leaned forward. This was the in he’d been waiting for. “I really appreciate that. And I do want to be completely honest with you. I don’t want to waste your time. The truth is, this is unnecessary. I think people expect me not to adjust well, so they’re treating me like I’m not. But really, I’m fine. I’m doing fine. And I just don’t think I’m going to get much from this.”

You didn’t say anything for a long moment, just looked at him curiously with your lips pursed. At one point, your eyes flicked down to where his hand was resting on his knee. Could you see the way it shook? His hands hadn’t stopped shaking since he’d come out of the ice. He straightened it out so it laid flat on the denim of his jeans, willing it to be still. That didn’t mean anything.

Finally, your eyes left him as you turned to your messenger bag, pulling out a thin file. “Do you mind,” you asked, “if we talk about some of the concerns your team has for you?”

Steve’s jaw ticked. Not for. About. Fury had already done this. “I know their concerns. I don’t think that’s necessary.”

You shrugged casually, like it didn’t much matter to you either way. “I think it could be instructive to what we’re trying to do here.”

“Fine,” he ground out, but you didn’t react to his tone. You just opened the file. Before you had a chance to say anything, he leaned forward and spat out, “Listen, I know what’s in there. They think I don’t listen to anyone. That I’m a bad leader. That my plans are too risky. That I can’t keep anyone safe. Did I get everything?”

You bobbed your head a little, your expression impassive, your voice soft. “Not exactly. They did say that you refuse to listen to people. But they never said anything about you being a bad leader. Or not keeping them safe. They said the thing you’re most likely to risk on these missions is yourself. They’re worried about you.” He couldn’t hold in his scoff and you paused to look him in the eye. “Do you really jump out of planes without a parachute?”

He felt his eyes go a little wide like he’d been caught, doing what exactly, he wasn’t quite sure. He shook his head. “No, that’s not– You know what’s in my veins. If I were a normal man, sure, that’d be suicidal. But I have more strength, better reflexes, I heal faster. It’s not a big deal. It’s fine.”

Your brow furrowed as you leaned forward too. “But, you still get injured, don’t you? Even if it doesn’t last as long. You still feel all that pain. Steve,” and the way you said his name, for the first time, different somehow than the way any omega had ever said it before, he felt it like a knife to the heart, “why would you want to put yourself through feeling all that if you didn’t have to?”

He was up off the couch before he even realized it. The room was suddenly smaller than it’d been a minute ago. His mind was racing and he didn’t know why or how to make it stop.

“Captain Rogers.” You were standing right in front of him, holding your hands up at your chest, your palms out. “I’m sorry Captain, I didn’t mean to push. Are you alright?” All he could do for the moment was blink at you. “Hey, how ‘bout you take a deep breath with me, ok? A slow breath in through your nose.”

He followed your lead and took a deep breath in. And, oh. He was struck by the scent of you. Lilacs and oranges. You smelled like spring.

“And out through your mouth,” you said quietly and he realized he’d been holding his breath. He exhaled slowly and you smiled. “Do you want to take a break?” you asked softly. “I have a few more questions, but I don’t need to ask them right now.”

He shook himself out of whatever daze he’d been in. “No,” he said, standing up straighter. “I’m fine. Let’s keep going.”

He sat back down on the couch, but you hadn’t moved yet. “Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes. I’m fine. Let’s go.” It was only at the look on your face, that he realized how short he’d been. He took a breath. “Sorry,” he said, forcing some calm into his tone. “I’d like to keep going.”

“Okay,” you nodded and finally sat back down across from him. You opened your folder again. “You were a little… vague in your intake questionnaire. So, if you're able, I’d appreciate it if you could just tell me a little about what you’ve been going through, how you’ve been feeling.”

He fidgeted a little in his seat and he saw you clock it. He stilled himself, then said, with as casual an air as he could muster, “If I was vague, it’s only because there really isn’t much to report. I’ve been fine.” He was using that word too much. He knew it. But he didn’t know how else to say it.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head. “It’s just, on paper? You’ve been through a lot in what must feel like a very short amount of time. And that’s just the widely reported stuff. What’s in the history books and on the news. It would be understandable if you were struggling. Anyone would be.”

“Well, I’m not anyone, am I?” he snapped.

“No, you’re not,” you said slowly, calmly, and he hated how unflappable you were. “You’re a hero.” He just barely stopped his lip from curling up into a snarl at that. He’d had enough. “But–”

“Listen, I just need to get back in the field, okay? I just need another mission. That’s all I need. We don’t have to– None of this will be necessary if I can just get back out there. I understand that you’re a professional and you’ll want to seem thorough, so we can wait a few days. But I’m fine and that’s what I need you to tell Fury. If the team doesn’t want to work with me right now, that’s– that’s okay. I’ll do solo missions. Whatever they want. I just need to get back out there.” He was pleading by the end of it. He could hear it in his voice. But this was important. He needed you to understand.

You just sat there for a moment, staring at him, your brow furrowed. “I–” you started. “I think there may have been a misunderstanding, Captain Rogers.”

“Steve,” he corrected, “please.”

“Steve, I–” you paused, your lips pursed. “I’m sorry, whether or not you eventually get back on the team, that doesn’t have anything to do with me. I don’t work for SHIELD. I can’t make that decision.”

“What? No. Yes, you do. You can tell Fury that I’m fit for duty.”

“Steve. I work for a support omega agency. I’ve helped a few agents before, but I don’t know Commander Fury. I’m not here to report back to anyone. I’m just here to help you.”

All he could do was shake his head. No, this wasn’t right. There had to be a way to get back to work. You had to be the key.

“I’ve been contracted for a three month period, with the option to extend as needed. I thought this had all been explained to you. I–” You looked at him, pained, like you were willing him to understand

‘Three months to start’ had been said to him at some point in this whole process, but he hadn’t thought that’d been serious. He’d been sure there was a way around it. Sure that you were the way.

He wouldn’t be able to survive three months. That he was sure of. Not without something to do. Not without a purpose. Not without something to fight. The room was getting smaller again. Closing in on him. All of that time stretching out ahead of him, without any purpose, without any point to him. It was all closing in on him.

He tried to take a deep breath, but it didn’t do any good. It didn’t do anything. Didn’t get him any air. There wasn’t any air. He was pinned down. Under all the water. Under all that ice. He was so cold and he couldn’t breathe.

“Steve!”

He was distantly aware of someone calling his name, but no one would be able to get to him. He was too far under. There was too much ice. He’d done too much.

“Steve. Hey, Steve! I’m here with you. I’m right here, okay? I’m right here.”

No, that couldn’t be right. He was alone. All alone and–

Lilacs. How was he smelling lilacs? And oranges. Fresh and bright. Spring.

He blinked his eyes open. He didn’t know when he’d shut them. He was huddled on the floor in front of the couch. In the living room. You were kneeling in front of him, your hands held out in front of you, not making contact, but one of your wrists was extended. Right under his nose.

When he made eye contact with you, you exhaled, like maybe you’d been holding your breath. “Hi,” you said, relieved. “You back with me?”

All he could do was blink at you, at first. Then he looked around. The blank walls. The prefab furniture. The apartment. He hated this place. He looked back at you. “Yeah.” It came out in a croak. “I– Yeah.”

“Is it alright if I touch you?” you asked, inching closer. “You can say no.”

He shook his head without even thinking. “Please.”

As you reached out to touch him, hug him, maybe, he collapsed into you. You let out a little “oof” but didn’t pull away. You just wrapped your arms around him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched, really touched, like this. Not just in passing. Not in battle. Before the ice. Decades. Everything had been decades.

His eyes were wet and he was so so tired. He felt wrenched open. Emptied out like there was nothing left. He exhaled in your arms and with it came a whisper, completely out of his control. “I just want to go home.”

You didn't say anything, but your grip on him tightened.

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coryndoll · 19 hours ago

Text

waking up to you ₍₁₂₎

plot ── you wake up in a strange alternate reality that just so happens to be the outer banks universe, and to your disbelief, you’re suddenly in a relationship with the shows most unlikely character, rafe cameron.

content ── this a long one i fear, another journal entry (u can literally see it right there help), rafe being as bf as he can, more ward awkward avoiding tension, some talks !! reader taking a few more steps to coming home

authors note ── ermm hi guys, I FINALLY FOUND THE TIME TO WRITE. lmk if u still wanna be part of this tag list, i was unable to keep up with any of my last requests for this series on the last part because its been 2 months so please lmk now or turn my notifications on !! <3

‘ it all came crashing down again. family dinner at the camerons. i swear i tried, i really did. i didn’t want to be that girl anymore. the one they all whisper about behind my back, the one they think is just a spoiled, bitchy princess. i really thought i was getting better. but i guess i was wrong.

i’m so angry at myself, i can’t even see straight. i was rude. i didn’t mean to be, but i was to everyone. & i know they saw it. i saw the looks, heard the tension. i could feel it, like they were all waiting for me to screw up. waiting for me to be the person they’ve always known. i tried to prove them wrong, but i ended up just making it worse.

and sarah?? she just doesn’t get it. i don’t even know why i said half of the things i did. she said something that just triggered me & i couldn’t stop myself.

i just started spitting out words, things i probably didn’t even mean, all because i wanted to hurt her the way i was hurt. because i couldn’t stand the thought that maybe they were right about me. & rafe had to intervene too. it was so fucking embarrassing.

it was like the moment she opened her mouth, i became that girl again. the girl who can’t hold her tongue, the girl who lashes out when she feels cornered. & maybe that’s exactly what i am. maybe i haven’t changed. maybe they were right all along.

it’s like, every time i try to take a step forward, i end up falling so far back & i can’t even pick myself up anymore.

like what’s the point of changing if nothing changes? what’s the point of trying to be better when people are always going to see you as the same bitch you’ve always been?

maybe i really haven’t changed. ’

the journal is gripped tightly in your hand as you read the words that spill from the page, feeling the weight of the other y/n’s heartache.

everything she says, all the bitterness and the regret, it feels so raw, so real, and it stings like something you’ve felt before. you don’t know if you’re even supposed to feel sorry for her, but something tugs at your chest still.

the y/n who wrote this, she really believed it, didn’t she? she believed she hadn’t changed, that no matter how much she tried, she was always going to be stuck in this version of herself. the girl who could never win.

a soft sigh slips from your lips as you shut the journal with a soft thud. you toss it onto the desk like it might catch fire if you hold it any longer and lean back in the chair with a sigh.

for a moment, you just sit there, staring at the closed journal, your thoughts spinning. it’s clear now how much that argument with sarah weighed on her.

even if sarah and rafe don’t care about it anymore, because they don’t, right? otherwise, sarah wouldn’t have been so friendly when you first landed here, and rafe wouldn’t have looked so damn happy to wake up next to you. her.

but jesus, it must’ve taken a toll if she felt the need to spill her guts onto these pages.

you run your hands back through your hair, bringing your knees up to your chest as you try to make sense of it all. so, what’s the point of this? why are you here? why her? you don’t get it. any of it. but for some reason, it feels like time is slipping through your fingers, like there’s some invisible clock ticking down, and if you don’t figure out what the hell you’re supposed to do soon, you’ll never make it back home.

your chest tightens at the thought, and you look back at the journal on the desk. it doesn’t hold the answers you need, but for a second, you feel like maybe it’s the only thing tying you to the pieces of her life.

you will get back home.

you have to.

the first floor of the home feels colder than you expected, but you can hear something downstairs in the basement. it’s just muffled voices, sarah’s laugh, rafe saying something you can’t quite make out.

you take a slow breath, pulling your jacket tighter around your body as you walk down the steps. the closer you get, the more your chest tightens, like you’re walking into something you’re not supposed to see.

from the last few steps, you spot them. sarah’s leaning against the glass wall of the wine cellar, arms crossed loosely over her chest, her head tilted back in laughter. rafe is crouched inside the glass room, fiddling with something in his hands, while ward kneels near an empty wine rack, muttering something under his breath.

you haven’t been down here yet. the room feels so untouched, so pristine, like it belongs in one of those glossy magazines about rich people’s homes. there’s a bar in the far left corner of the room, the walls are lined with racks of expensive wine bottles, each label perfectly aligned. the air is cooler here, crisp and sharp, carrying the faint scent of oak and something else you can’t quite place.

rafe is the first to notice you. he glances over his shoulder as he stands, his foot pressing against the ground for balance. his hands fidget for a second before he straightens, brushing them over the front of his shirt. sarah notices his distraction and follows his gaze, her laugh fading into a quiet smile as she turns to look at you.

and then there’s ward. crouched near the wine rack, he drags a hand down his face and jaw, his movements slow and deliberate, like he’s trying to collect himself. when his eyes meet yours, the air shifts.

the tension is immediate. it always is.

you feel it in the way sarah and rafe go quiet, not because they have anything against you, but because it’s almost instinctual when ward’s in the room. you can’t blame them.

rafe’s the first to move. he runs a hand over his buzzed hair, his lips parting like he’s about to say something to ward, but instead, he steps out of the glass room and toward you. his hand reaches out to gently grasp your shoulders, his touch grounding.

“hey, babe,” he says softly, his voice low enough that it doesn’t carry far. “what are you— what are you doing up here? i thought you said you were reading.”

right, the lie you told him so you can read his real girlfriends journal.

you open your mouth to respond, but ward cuts in from behind the glass. “it’s fine, rafe,” he says, his tone even but clipped, like he’s dismissing the entire situation before it can escalate.

rafe’s grip on your shoulders tightens for a moment before he glances back at his dad. you follow his gaze, your eyes locking on ward as he stands, clearing his throat. his hand drags down his beard again, and he turns his attention back to the wine bottles.

he adjusts one of them, then another, like he’s mentally calculating if they’re placed correctly. finally, he straightens, his shoulders rolling back as he steps out of the cellar.

rafe’s hand slides down to yours, his fingers wrapping around yours as he gently pulls you off the stairs and onto the tile floor. ward doesn’t say anything as he walks past. he nods at you, a brief acknowledgment, before continuing up the stairs.

you gnaw on your bottom lip, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach. what could this version of you have possibly done to make him act like this all the time?

rafe looks back at sarah, who’s still standing near the wine racks, her expression unreadable. then he turns back to you, his voice softer now. “i’ll be back, alright?” he says, squeezing your hand gently. “we can watch our movie tonight.”

“but dad wanted to watch that new movie with us in the living room tonight,” sarah pipes up, her voice cutting through the quiet. she shifts her weight, her arms crossing over her chest. “are you seriously bailing on him again? you already did last month. he’s not gonna be so happy.”

rafe’s jaw tightens, and he snaps at her, “yeah, but dad is never happy.”

you know that isn’t true. ward was literally just laughing before you came downstairs. rafe’s just trying to make you feel better, to shift the blame onto someone else.

he looks at you again, his gaze softening. “i’ll be there soon, okay?” he promises, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips before disappearing up the stairs.

you stand there in silence, your arms wrapping around yourself instinctively, as if to shield against the invisible judgment that seems to follow you everywhere in this house.

you’re not even sure why you feel this way. it’s not your fault ward doesn’t like you. it’s not even you he doesn’t like. but being in the place of someone who carries so much baggage with him makes it impossible not to take it personally.

you glance toward sarah, who hasn’t moved from her spot near the bar. she doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at you with an unreadable expression. then, with a light shrug, she pulls out a stool and sits down, leaning her elbows on the bar behind her.

“hey,” she says casually, her voice cutting through the quiet, “at least he only left the room this time. you know, instead of muttering something under his breath like he used to.”

your brows furrow, and for a moment, you just stare at her, trying to figure out if she’s serious. she’s smiling, clearly trying to lighten the mood, but her words settle awkwardly in your chest.

you huff, crossing the room and sliding onto the stool next to her. “is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask, your voice low and a little sharp, though not intentionally.

sarah’s smile falters. her shoulders straighten, and she tilts her head slightly, studying you. “i mean . . .” she starts, but then stops, her frown deepening. “you’re really upset about this, huh?”

you don’t answer right away. you just look down at the polished wood of the bar, tracing an invisible line with your finger.

sarah doesn’t press you for a response. instead, she leans back a little, resting her hands on the edge of the bar. “look,” she says after a moment, her tone softer now, “i know my dad. he’s . . . stubborn. i mean like, painfully stubborn. me and rafe and even wheezie get it from him. but he’ll get over it. he always does. and honestly, he’s kind of stupid if he doesn’t see you for who you really are.”

you glance at her, surprised by the conviction in her voice. “and who am i, exactly?”

sarah smiles, but it’s not the teasing kind you’re used to. it’s thoughtful, almost sad. “you’re someone who loves my brother. and i mean, really loves him. i never thought i’d see that, you know? someone like you, loving someone like rafe.”

your brows knit together, and you shift in your seat, tilting your head. “someone like me?”

she hesitates, her gaze dropping for a second before meeting yours again. “yeah,” she says quietly. “you’re . . . you. independent, smart, ambitious. you don’t take anyone’s crap, not even his. and trust me, he needs that. but more than that, you’ve always been real, like authentic. even when you were kind of a bitch, and sorry, but you were sometimes, you were just . . . lost. we all were.”

her words hit you harder than you expect, and you’re not sure why. maybe it’s because she’s seeing y/n, like really seeing her, in a way that no one else in this house seems to.

“you’ve been one of my best friends for years,” sarah continues, her voice steady but warm. “even when we weren’t as close, i always knew you were still you. and now? now, you’re finding yourself again. and it’s really good to see. even if it took my idiot brother to bring you back.”

you laugh softly, shaking your head. “i don’t know if i’m really ‘back.’”

sarah shrugs, leaning forward on her elbows. “maybe not. but you’re getting there. and honestly, if my dad doesn’t see that? if he doesn’t see how much you love rafe, how much you’re trying? then he’s an even bigger idiot than i thought.”

you can’t help but grin at that, a small, genuine smile tugging at your lips. “that’s your dad you’re talking about.”

“yeah, well,” sarah says, grinning back, “he deserves it sometimes.”

there’s a moment of quiet between you, but it’s not uncomfortable. it’s the kind of silence that feels like an understanding, like a bridge being built.

“and . . . i’m actually, like, so sorry for last week,” you say with a wave of your hand. “for the way i blew up on you. i could’ve handled it so much better, but i didn’t. and that’s on me. i’m trying to do better, to be better, so stuff like that doesn’t happen again.”

sarah’s eyes soften, and she reaches over to place a hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “oh my god, y/n, it’s fine,” she says, her tone light and reassuring. “seriously. one argument isn’t going to ruin us. i know you’re trying, and i see it. besides, if we’ve survived rafe’s terrible cooking, i think we can survive anything.”

you can’t help but laugh at that even though the memories aren’t yours, but the tension in your chest is easing just a little. “you’re not wrong,” you play it off, shaking your head.

sarah snorts, leaning back on her stool. “see? we’ve been through worse. and we’re still here.”

then, she straightens up, her expression turning more serious.

“you really are changing, y/n,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “and i like this new version of you. and someday, the whole world’s gonna see it too. especially when we’re traveling to every country, helping everyone, saving who we can.”

you blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift, “traveling.”

sarah nods, her smile returning, though it’s tinged with something bittersweet. “yeah. remember? that stupid plan we made in the eighth grade. i can’t believe i remember that. you and me, seeing the world, doing something that matters. i mean, we’re obviously still doing that, right?”

her words stir something in you, something deep and unspoken. you don’t remember reading about it in the journal, but it feels so warm.

as far as you can tell, in the show it was like sarah’s life was pretty much just figured out for her, as if she’d be stuck in outerbanks all her life but . . . even y/n managed to build plans with her to explore the world. sarah didn’t need some treasure hunting plot, she had y/n.

“yeah,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “we’re still doing that.”

sarah’s smile widens, and before you can say anything else, she leans in, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug. you hesitate for only a second before hugging her back, resting your chin on her shoulder.

but the hug ends too quickly, and not in the way you expect. one second, sarah’s leaning forward, and the next, she’s losing her balance.

you feel yourself teetering backward, your hand instinctively shooting out to steady yourself on the edge of the bar, but it’s no use, sarah’s grip slips, and in her panic, she reaches for the counter.

the sound of glass shattering on the floor is instant. sharp. final.

your heart jumps into your throat as both of you freeze, wide-eyed.

“oh my god,” you whisper, staring at the bar even though you can’t see the damage from where you’re sitting. your mouth falls open, and you glance at sarah, whose face is twisted into a mixture of guilt and disbelief.

“oh my god,” sarah echoes, her voice quieter but no less panicked. she’s leaning over the counter, trying to peek at the mess below, though it’s clear she can’t see anything either.

you don’t know whether to laugh or panic, and for a few seconds, you do neither. you just stare at her, waiting for her reaction.

finally, sarah pulls back and looks at you, her lips pressed into a tight line as if she’s trying to hold it together. but then her expression cracks, and she lets out a breathy, almost defeated laugh.

“okay. okay, this is fine,” she says, more to herself than to you. “i’ll clean it up. just . . . go upstairs, and i’ll meet you up there.”

“are you sure?” you ask, watching as she makes her way across the room toward a neatly hung broom and dustpan set on the wall.

“yes, i’m sure,” she says, already pulling the broom off its hook. “this isn’t my first time breaking something down here. trust me, i’ve got this.”

you chuckle, shaking your head as you stand. “if you say so,” you say, still feeling a little guilty.

you linger for a moment, watching as she starts sweeping up the shards of glass with practiced ease. then, with a final glance over your shoulder, you head for the stairs.

you take the last step cautiously, your hand grazing the banister as your eyes scan the room. that’s when you see him.

rafe is just leaving the kitchen, his broad shoulders disappearing through the sliding glass door that leads to the backyard.

“a’right, i’ll be back,” he calls out, his voice carrying easily through the space. you watch him go, your gaze lingering on the door for a moment before it hits you. you’re not alone.

ward is still in the kitchen. he’s standing at the head of the island, facing you, his hands resting on the countertop. his posture is stiff, almost tense, like he’s deep in thought.

your first instinct is to turn around, to slip quietly into the living room and make your way to the staircase that leads up to rafe’s room. oh, wonder how this’ll play out. if ward’s here, he probably doesn’t want you here.

he doesn’t move at first. his hands rest on the edge of the counter, his gaze cast downward like he’s deep in thought or maybe just tired. for a second, it looks like he’s about to scratch the back of his head and walk away, but he stays rooted in place.

and then, before you can stop yourself, you take a step forward.

“why don’t you like me?”

your voice comes out stronger than you expect, cutting through the silence like a knife.

ward freezes. his head lifts slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with a sharpness that makes your breath hitch. at first, he looks almost offended, his brows pulling together in a way that feels like a warning. but then, slowly, his expression shifts.

he doesn’t say anything.

“no, seriously,” you press, your voice a little shakier now but still firm. “why don’t you like me? for god knows how long, you’ve been nothing but . . . or no, you’ve been literally nothing.”

ward’s gaze doesn’t waver, but there’s something in the way he tilts his head slightly, like he’s listening even if he doesn’t want to.

“i can’t wrap my head around it,” you continue, the words coming faster now. “are we ever going to fix this? or are we just going to live the rest of our lives avoiding each other? because, honestly, it feels like we owe it to the family to at least try to communicate. every time i walk into a room with you, it’s like everything and everyone goes still. and i just— what did i ever do to you?”

your voice cracks on the last word, and you hate it, hate how vulnerable you sound. but you don’t look away. you can’t.

ward’s head lowers slightly, his eyes narrowing as he stares at you. it’s the kind of look a parent gives when they hear something they don’t like. it’s stern, almost disapproving. but you’re just as upset as he is, and you feel like you have every right to be.

he cocks his head toward the island, the motion subtle but deliberate. it takes you a moment to realize he’s gesturing to one of the stools.

“sit down,” he says.

you hesitate, your brows furrowing as you try to gauge his intentions. but then he turns away, walking over to the sink.

you watch as he picks up a towel and starts wiping down a plate. he doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say anything else, and for a second, you wonder if you’ve made a mistake.

still, you move toward the stool, your steps cautious. you settle into it carefully, your shoulders tense but beginning to ease as you watch him work.

finally, ward glances at you out of the corner of his eye. he sets the plate down on the counter, his hand still holding the towel as he speaks.

“i don’t hate you, you know,” he says, his voice calm but firm. his movements are slow, deliberate, like he’s trying to buy himself time before speaking again.

he presses his palms against the edge of the sink, his fingers flexing once before he turns his head slightly in your direction. “and i was wrong,” he says, nodding once like he’s confirming it to himself as much as to you. “i know that.”

your breath catches. of all the things you expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them.

ward turns to face you fully, his expression unreadable but not as closed off as before. you don’t say anything, just watching, waiting, because this conversation, this moment, shouldn’t be happening with you. it should be happening with her.

but it’s not. it’s you. and you don’t know what to do with that.

he sighs, rubbing his fingers together for a moment before crossing his arms over his chest. “i’ve been watching you these past few months,” he admits, his voice quieter now, more measured. “i see you. i see how much you’ve changed.”

you swallow hard, your fingers curling into your palms.

“you’re getting better.” he nods again, almost like he’s convincing himself. “i don’t think i ever said that to you. but i should have. you always had a good heart when you were a kid,” he continues, his voice distant, like he’s remembering. “but somewhere along the way, you lost it.”

“but then you came around,” he says, shaking his head slightly. “and i see that now. and look, i know i’m not the easiest person. i know i have my expectations, and i know that sometimes . . . i hold onto things longer than i should.”

he shakes his head slightly. “but you’ve proven me wrong, y/n.”

your breath catches.

ward looks at you like he’s really seeing you, his expression unreadable but different, not as guarded, not as cold. “i don’t think i’ve ever told you that. and i should have, and i’m sorry.”

your lips part slightly, but you don’t speak. you just wait.

“for a long time, i thought . . .” he pauses, considering his next words carefully. “i thought you were a bad influence on rafe, on the girls. and maybe, back then, you were. but now?” he exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “now, i see that you’re good for him. good for this family.”

“he loves you,” ward continues, his voice steady. “and i know you love him. that means something. that matters.”

your fingers twitch slightly in your lap. you don’t know what to say. you don’t even know if you should say anything.

there’s a beat of silence before he shifts his weight slightly and exhales. “look, i know this week has been . . . a lot,” he says, almost like he’s testing the words before fully committing to them. “but if you’d like, maybe, you could come with us somewhere for a few weeks like we used to when you guys were kids.”

your brows knit together slightly, lips parting in quiet surprise.

“it wouldn’t be for a while, ‘til maybe this summer,” he adds quickly, almost like he’s giving you an out. “but if you wanted to.”

you don’t know what to say. for the first time, ward cameron isn’t just tolerating your presence. he’s inviting you in. holy shit, did you just seal the deal for y/n’s relationship with ward? did you seal the deal for yourself?

ward watches you, waiting, and when you don’t say anything right away, he tilts his head slightly, his brows raising in that way dads do when they’re expecting a response. then he exhales through his nose, almost amused, shaking his head slightly.

“well?” he prompts, voice still firm but with an edge of something lighter, something that almost sounds like patience.

you blink. you don’t know what to say, but ward is still looking at you, expectant but not forceful. so you swallow the hesitation in your throat and nod slightly. “yeah,” you say softly. “forgiven . . . thank you. for everything.”

his lips press together, and he gives a single nod, like he’s acknowledging the weight of those words. then, after a beat, he pats his palm against the counter once, as if sealing the conversation.

sarah steps onto the main floor, glancing behind her as if making sure the basement isn’t suddenly going to collapse after the mess she just cleaned up, only to immediately pause.

her eyes flicker between you and her dad, seated at the island, not avoiding each other, not silently pretending the other doesn’t exist.

she hesitates, like she’s unsure if she walked in at the wrong time or if she’s even in the right house. her brows furrow, her nose scrunches slightly.

“what’s going on?” her voice is like she’s caught onto something she wasn’t meant to see.

before you or ward can even think of an answer, the sound of the sliding door from the backyard shifts open, and rafe’s voice cuts in, casual and unaware. “hey, dad, i couldn’t find the—” he starts, stepping inside, but he slows his pace almost immediately when his eyes land on the scene in front of him.

his gaze flickers between you and ward, then to sarah, like maybe she’ll have some kind of explanation, but she’s just as clueless as he is. still, there’s something almost amused in her expression, like she’s already piecing things together faster than her brother.

rafe, on the other hand, looks at the two of you like this is some kind of elaborate prank. his lips part slightly, his head tilts, brows drawing together in that signature confused-cameron look.

ward, ever the composed one, is the first to break the silence. he leans back slightly, hands resting on the island as he shifts his attention to his kids. “we were just talking,” he says simply, though there’s an unmistakable ease to his voice that wasn’t there before.

sarah’s eyes narrow slightly, suspicious, but there’s a flicker of something impressed there too. rafe, still playing catch-up, shakes his head slightly, trying to process whatever the hell he just walked into.

before either of them can dig into it further, ward smoothly changes the subject. “what movie are you guys thinking for tonight?” he asks, his tone light, almost casual.

you barely have a moment to process the shift before he turns to you. “y/n, why don’t you help me with the snacks?”

it’s not a question, it’s an invitation. a surprising, unexpected invitation.

rafe reacts immediately, jerking his head back like he just got whiplash. “what?” he blurts out, pure disbelief coloring his tone.

your eyebrows shoot up, equally taken aback, but you catch the tiniest hint of a smirk tugging at sarah’s lips, like she’s already reading into this moment and what it means.

still, you nod, pushing yourself up from the stool, hesitating only for a second before making your way around the counter to where ward stands. as you pass rafe, you send him a look, a silent, wide-eyed ‘oh my god’ look, and he just blinks at you, still visibly struggling to compute whatever the hell is happening.

ward, unfazed, reaches up into a cabinet, searching for something. “hey, sar, rafe,” he calls, his voice even. “can you two set up the movie and let rose and wheezie know to be downstairs in . . .” he pauses mid-sentence, then glances toward you as if waiting for confirmation on a time.

you shrug slightly, guestimating. “fifteen minutes?”

ward nods, turning back to his kids. “fifteen minutes,” he repeats, and with that, he resumes rummaging through the cabinet for the right bowls.

sarah takes a step back first, but not before glancing at rafe, her expression absolutely gloating. she doesn’t say anything, but the way she tilts her head, the way her brows lift slightly, it’s enough to tell him, this is happening.

rafe exhales sharply, shakes his head in disbelief, and finally turns toward the living room, muttering something under his breath about how this is going to take some getting used to.

and just like that, the dynamic shifts. for the first time since you’ve been here, something feels different. maybe even . . . right.

tags ── @v2los @cosmixstar @meeuhsworld @lilithblackkk @rovckwells @cherrylooney @iissza @namelesslosers @cocolovey @rafeyswrd @odairtrqsh @gretag13 @vivian-555 @lunaleah @smol-coffee-addict @twinge-vix @drewsephrry @avngrssckr @cali-888 @simpingcorner @nymphetkoo @pinkpantheris @ilyrafe @romaescapes @thereallifebambi @rafesweetie @faephoria @solo-pitstop-vibes @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @sgecorrow @rafesgiirl @ravisinghs-wife @booksntings @tinyfairies @maybankslover @honeyluvsatj @darleneslane @alysaaaa444 @w4nnabeurs @thewrittenpodcast @watersquirtpewpewboomm @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @benbarneslut @illicit-affcirs @helo1281917 ++

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bunnygirllover45 · 2 days ago

Text

Some words of sincerity and appreciation.

Personal stuff, go ahead and skip if you don't wanna read me being gloomy af. LMFAO. Kinda serious but also not- health complications and stuff.

It's been about 4 hours since I left the hospital and I've been itching to write something in this blog. I've never been the type to share personal stuff online, just because the fear of being perceived often overwhelms me more than I would like to admit. Sometimes life gives you some moments when everything is so fucked you just have to look back (has anyone seen the movie? great stuff.) and appreciate everything you have just to not sulk even more in your misery. When I started to post art here I didn't expect many people to pay attention to what I do or what I have to say, I think sometimes life is like screaming into a void and expecting an answer, and not gonna lie, it feels magical when it replies back. I've met so many wonderful people, received so many beautiful messages, and interacted with endlessly talented people that I still have no idea how they find something in my art when they're also equally if not more talented as I am. God, I still recognize some of the usernames of the people who always like my posts first thing (you'll know who you all are !) and it feels wonderful to see that some people just come back here expecting the next stupid thing I'm gonna do. It might be pointless, it might be just another delirious thought I write down when I'm feverish and confused laying in bed at 4 AM, but you are still here. I don't want to get too parasocial, that's not my objective here, I just want to express that I see you and you see me, and I'm endlessly grateful for it. I've been diagnosed with a brain tumour, it's not the end of the world but it's a little more worrying than we thought at first. My fault for dealing with endless headaches and not taking care of myself, if I had been smarter, I would've realized sooner. I'll need to take proper care of myself, and It's going to be a hard time for both me and the people around me, but I've always been one to be hard to kill. (I can count how many times I smashed my head against the doorframe because my skull is permanently damaged because of it) ((yes, i was a stupid kid.)) I will continue to create because it's what makes me happy, I will continue working with the wonderful people that commissioned me and I'll keep all of you updated, but it's sadly my time to accept that things have to slow down, for my own sake. I need to do it if I want to be to come back at my 100%. I'm writing this for the people who find me important, for the people who find some solace and comfort in my blog or just enjoy what I do. Sorry for keeping you here this long and making you read this innocuous message, but it's my responsibility to just- say thank you for everything. Don't wanna leave without being grateful, opportunities like this don't come twice in a lifetime. Love you all, and keep creating and being wonderful. Don't forget to drink water (GOD KNOWS I DO.)

#chrona... rambles abt shit #personal #delete later

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4drianaaaa · 23 hours ago

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promise - Hamzahthefantastic

💌: fem reader + sfw!

Your name lived in Hamzah's head 24/7. You were always on his mind, It was crazy. He'd do anything for you. You had been revealed to the fans after the long documentary they dropped. Since then, he's always mentioned you.

You brushed makeup onto the apples of your cheeks as you were getting ready to go spend the day with Hamzah. He had texted you prior for you to get ready. You heard the front door open as you slid into your coat.

"Babee" he sang as he noticed you all dolled up. "Wow you look so good honey" he placed his backpack down as he kissed your forehead then your lips. "You ready to go?" he questioned as you nodded.

You both arrived to the Toronto Centre as you walked through out the many shops. You couldn't help but notice a very cute, vintage looking bag through the glass window of 'Coach'. "Like it baby?" he shook your held hand in excitement as you bit your bottom lip, "It's gonna ruin my bank account" you scoffed as he suddenly pulled you into the store, "Hamzah!" you tugged his hand as he grabbed the purse from the shelf "Never say your gonna buy something yourself when I'm here" he huffed as you got immediate butterflies. He went to ask for a newer bag as he swiped his card and made it all yours.

It was always something shopping with Hamzah. He’d always buy you something no matter what. He just loves seeing you happy.

"Babe I can't believe this! I love you!" You shrieked as you held the bag in your hands as his lips curled. He loved seeing you so happy. One of his favorite things to do was giving you things that reminded him of you.

“Of course y/n” he said as he kissed your rosy lips as his whole goal today was to spoil you.

", where else do you want to go?" he hummed as he wrapped his arm around you. You both walked into many stores and came out of them with more and more bags on your hands. You felt a small guilt whenever he did this. Especially when it came to expensive places. “I’m sorry baby, this is all so expensive” you said worryingly. “No baby, don’t worry about the prices. Whatever you want you get, remember that.” He said softly as you blushed in response.

You both ended off the day going to a small park to eat lunch. Your eyes glowed under the sunset as the sun kissed your face so well. His face brightened up seeing you. He knew you were the one from the start. The way you matched his energy with everything, your similar personalities, and the way you were drop dead gorgeous. He never said or thought anything like this since his little elementary school girlfriends but he wanted to be with you forever.

"I'm so glad were able to spend more time together because of the break” he smiled, "me too babe" you leaned your head on his shoulder as his eyes were stuck onto you like glue. He felt so comfortable and confident with you he couldn’t believe he introduced you to his fans.

"I also have a little gift for you" he licked his lips as you stood up from his shoulder, "what? Hamzah you bought so much stuff for us already?" you frowned “here you go worrying again!” He sighed as he placed a hand on your knee. You inhaled and exhaled as he digged in his pocked to take out a small heart shaped box. Your heart dropped to the floor as he opened the small box and pulled out a (gold/silver) promise ring with the most shiniest heart shaped red gem in the middle.

"I wanted to give you this ring as a promise I'll stick with you forever y/n" he smiled as he slipped the ring onto your finger as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Hamzah! I can’t believe you!” You shrieked as you kissed all over his face as he giggled from your soft lips brushing his face. His face was covered in kiss marks as you looked down at the gorgeous rock on your finger.

“Do you like it?” He questioned as he rubbed your back, “I LOVE it baby, thank you so much!” Your eyes sparkled - “I promise to be with you forever too Hamzah.” You added as you sat down on his lap hugging him tightly.

I’ll def be posting tomorrow as well but I hope y’all enjoy this small little story <3!

#hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzah imagines #hamzahsmut #hamzah #blurb #hamzah fluff #promisering

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hischierhoney · 2 days ago

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Snowglobe // pt. ii

ski patrol!nico hischier x reader

summary: the storm has cleared, and your vacation is back on track, except for one new development: Nico. 9.3k words. read part 1 here!

warnings: suggestive content/mild smut (18+), mentions of alcohol

“Long time no see,” Nico says, appearing at the end of your table.

Despite the way your nerves spike, despite the way your heart jumps, you smile up at him. “Hi, stranger.”

He’s holding two glasses- in one, half a beer, in the other, something that looks like your favorite drink. You remember telling him that, a sorry excuse for a fun fact about yourself in comparison to his, but he’d nodded firmly, like he was committing it to memory. Maybe he was.

“Guys, this is Nico,” you say to your friends, met with smiles and knowing eyebrow raises. “My savior.”

“Just doing my job,” he says, setting the glass down on the table in front of you.

You lean forward and take a sip through the straw. Yep. Just perfect. “And now? Just doing your job again?”

You hold your breath. Maybe he’s just being nice, but this feels like a pretty obvious signal. A sign that maybe he was feeling it all, too. That you weren’t reading too far into the arm around your shoulder on the lift ride down the mountain.

He grins, shakes his head. “Nope. I’m off the clock.”

You grin right back and shove at the empty chair next to you with your foot. “Take a load off, then.”

…..

Nico’s not quite sure how he ended up here.

Generally, sure, he remembers. The bar, your laugh, the drink, the seat kicked out for him. Talking, for ages, with you and your friends, whose names he’s trying desperately to keep straight. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to them, get to know them- he does. They seem great.

It’s just that things got a little harder to focus on after the second drink and the move to the spot near the fireplace.

It’s warm here. Cozy. The fire is roaring to combat the fresh snow outside, and he’s melting comfortably into the leather chair beneath him. At some point, Jack, Luke, Timo, and Jonas joined you and Nico and your friends. It’s a bit of a crowd. A bit hard to track the conversation.

Especially with his arm back around your shoulders, you melting into his side, your knees tucked up onto the seat you’re sharing with him, the side of your leg resting against his thigh. When he shifts slightly and pulls you just a little closer, you go so willingly, leaning your head back against his chest.

He takes a sip of his beer, the one that Jack so graciously got him so that Nico didn’t have to get up and risk losing this. He’s in heaven. He could die happy, right here. He’s never been more glad he went out after work.

You laugh at something Jack said, something probably stupid. He wasn’t paying attention. He does pay attention, however, to the way you lean closer, to the way you steady yourself with a hand on his knee. He grins and squeezes your shoulder, like he thinks it’s funny, too.

He finally zones back in when he hears you speak up.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

You’re not talking to him- you’re talking to your friends. Right. You’re here on vacation, here to ski. Honestly, he’s pretty impressed- you’d mentioned wanting to get back on the slopes as soon as possible, even after getting stuck overnight. He’s happy it didn’t ruin the whole thing for you.

“Oh, I’m definitely sleeping in till noon,” one of them says.

“Same!” Jack agrees, leaning over to high five her.

“You work at 10:00,” Luke points out.

“They’ll survive without me.”

“You work for ski patrol-“

Under Nico’s arm, you sigh. “Oh. Don’t you wanna make the most of it? We’re only here for three more days.”

Suddenly, Nico’s chest feels tight. He hadn’t even considered that you might be leaving soon. Sure, three days is a lot of time, but he has to work on at least two of those days. He’s doing the math, and he doesn’t like the results. And despite the time he spent with you, he has no idea where you’re actually from. You could live across the country, for all he knows.

“I’m already exhausted. Maybe not noon, but we can sleep in until 10:00 or so. Plenty of time,” your friend quips.

You sigh. “If we sleep in till 10:00 we’ll miss breakfast.”

He can hear the disappointment in your voice. He gets where your friends are coming from- it’s their vacation, too. But god, how could anyone turn down breakfast with you? How could anyone give up more time with you? How could anyone be so-

He blinks. Across the table, another one of your friends- Beck, he thinks- is staring at him. Jack’s next to her, his eyes wide. Oh.

He clears his throat. “Hey. Can I take you to breakfast?”

When you turn to look up at him, you’re already smiling wide. Your hand is still on his knee, and you squeeze, softly. He feels warm all over, and it’s not just from the fireplace.

“Really?” You ask, eyes lit up like fresh sparkling snow. “You wanna?”

“Of course,” he says. “I’d be happy to.”

You grin, resting your cheek against his chest. “You really are my hero, you know.”

…..

By the time you leave the bar that night, you’re pleasantly tipsy, you have what you think is maybe a date with Nico set for the next morning, and Nico has your number in his phone to call you in case you sleep through your alarm. The perfect ending to the day.

”It’s definitely a date,” your friend, Dakota, says insistently, on the walk back to your rooms.

She’s been elbowing you since you left the bar, since you said goodnight to Nico and his friends. Your other friend, Kimmy, had to practically drag you out of the chair the two of you had been sharing. In your defense, you were comfy. In Kimmy’s defense, you were also falling asleep.

“I don’t know,” you mumble. “I mean. Maybe he’s just being nice. I don’t wanna read too much into it.”

Beck is walking ahead of the three of you, but she stops on a dime, turning to you, one perfect brow arched. “You cannot be serious.”

You sigh. Dakota pats your upper back. You’re so tired. And quite tipsy. And you miss Nico already.

“He remembered your favorite drink. He found you at the bar,” Beck says, ticking items off on her fingertips. “He offered to take you out for breakfast. Early. Get it together, babe. He’s into you.”

You sigh. “He’s really pretty.”

Kimmy laughs. “Very. Come on. Bed time. You have a date bright and early.”

They drop you off at your room, and you get ready for bed and then crawl under the covers happily. You set your phone down to charge, with an alarm set for 6am- Nico has to work at 9:00, so breakfast is set for 7:00. Normally, for a first date, you’d be agonizing over what to wear and how to do your hair, but Nico’s already seen you undone, seen you fall asleep in the ski hut. Anything will be better than that, you suppose.

There’s a text from Nico, on your phone screen when you look.

See you tomorrow morning!

You smile as you respond.

Can’t wait!

You wake up at 6am the next day to lightly falling snow. You get ready like you normally would, nothing crazy, though your hands are shaking with nerves. Nico sent you directions on how to get to the restaurant you’re meeting at. You get free breakfast in the hotel lobby, but he swears by this place, and says it’s the best around. You’re inclined to believe him. He seems to have good taste- he made ramen packets taste gourmet.

He’s already at the restaurant when you arrive, sitting at what you think is probably the best table in the whole place. It’s close to the fireplace, with a beautiful view out of the window of the early morning snow. Your hands feel clammy, your face warm. He’s in nearly the same outfit as you, dark jeans and a cozy, thick sweater. His hair is out from under his beanie, falling perfectly in a soft halo around his face.

You can’t quite believe you get to have breakfast with him.

When he spots you, he stands with a wide smile, eyes lit up brightly. He pulls you into a hug once you’re in arm’s reach, and you lean into him. You’d stay there all day, if it was socially acceptable, but instead, you let him pull your chair out for you and sit down. He follows suit.

There’s a pitcher of orange juice already on the table, along with a couple glasses of water, and you smile. Nico’s watching you, a matching smile on his own face.

“Morning,” you say, softly. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine, once I actually got home,” he says.

Then he launches into a story about having to drag Jack home from the bar, and it’s like the two of you never even left that little ski hut.

There’s something about Nico that just makes this so easy. He’s funny and kind, fun to talk to. Even the pauses, the silences, are comfortable. You sip orange juice and tell him your own stories and order food to share because you both can’t decide. Outside, the snow glitters. It’s like you’re in your own little snowglobe, your own perfect frozen moment.

Except that this is real. The way Nico slides his chair a little closer to yours is real. The way he smiles at every story you tell is real. He keeps your glass of juice full. He lets his hand rest on yours, under the tablecloth. Your heart is racing in the best way.

His eyes are crinkled at the corners the whole time. You want to keep them that way, forever.

After breakfast, he insists on walking you back to the main lodge. It’s snowing lightly, and he helps zip your jacket up before you step outside. You don’t bother with your gloves. Instead, you shove one hand in your pocket, and slip the other into his, fingers knit together. Like a puzzle piece, a perfect fit, as he squeezes his fingers against yours slightly.

The hotel lobby is quiet, nearly empty. He holds your hand all the way to the elevator, where he finally drops his grip. He’s being a gentleman, you think- doesn’t want to assume anything, doesn’t want to follow you up to your room. Besides, he has to work soon.

“Well. Maybe I’ll see you on the mountain today?” You suggest, standing face to face with him while you wait for the elevator.

He nods. “I’ll keep an eye out for you. But no getting stuck this time, yeah? Looks like it’s gonna be a beautiful day.”

You nod. “I’ll be safe, promise.”

He lifts a hand and squeezes your shoulder. “And if you get into trouble, you know who to call.”

You nod. The elevator dings behind you, and your heart sinks. You don’t want to go. You don’t want him to go. You’re not done yet.

“And maybe let me know when you get done with work?” You suggest. “I mean, if you’re not busy tonight.”

He grins, wide, dimples digging into his cheeks. “I actually just cleared my schedule.”

“Right now?”

“Right now. Nothing important, anyways,” he laughs. “I get done around 5:00.”

“Perfect,” you say, with a soft sigh. “Well. I’ll see you later, then, Nico.”

Before you can second guess yourself, you lean up, place your hands on his shoulders, and kiss his cheek. Very smooth, very suave of you. When you pull away, his eyes are shut, lashes tangled against his cheeks. You back away toward the elevator, trying to burn this image into your brain. Nico, all smiley, red cheeked and watching you go. Truly a sight to behold.

…..

Nico floats through his shift. He floats through the morning briefing, earning himself an elbow to the ribs from Jonas when he nearly misses his roll call. He floats while he’s getting suited up, feeling his cheeks go red as his jacket all over again when he thinks about you. He floats when they take the lift up to the top to open up a couple runs-

“You’re being weird,” Timo says, seated on the lift next to him. “Was breakfast that good?”

Nico nods. He doesn’t know how to explain it to anyone else. It’s something out of a postcard, a hallmark movie, a moment frozen in a snowglobe. It makes his chest ache in the best way.

She kissed me, he wants to say. On the cheek, but still. It counts for something. It means everything to him.

“I think we might hang out again tonight,” he says, instead.

Timo whistles lowly. If Jack was here, he’d be making whip noises. Nico’s not sure he’d even care.

“You really like her, huh?” He asks.

Nico nods, again. “I… I can’t explain it. We just… click.”

Tim nods in understanding. “Yeah. I could see it, last night, at the bar. You just look… comfortable, around her.”

Nico feels his cheeks get red all over again as he smiles sheepishly. Timo sees, of course he does, and elbows him again as he breaks into laughter.

“Hey man,” he teases, patting Nico’s shoulder as they near the end of the lift. “We’re just happy to see you happy.”

It’s near lunchtime when he spots you out on the slopes.

He should maybe be embarrassed by the fact that he recognizes you so easily, that your jacket and helmet stand out to him so well. He waves, anyways, embarrassment be damned, despite the fact that Jack and Luke are standing right next to him, despite the fact that you’re probably not even going to look his way. He watches you wave back, though, and then you ski over, and his heart starts racing in his chest, the same way it did when you walked into the restaurant in that cozy sweater this morning, a smile already on your face.

You pull up your goggles when you come up to them, resting them on your helmet. “Long time no see,” you tease.

“Hey, stranger,” he echoes, grinning back at you. “How are the slopes?”

“Wonderful,” you say with a happy sigh, your eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “So much fresh snow.”

“Almost worth getting stuck on the mountain, huh?”

He says, quietly.

You grin wider and nod. “I think a lot of things made that worth it.”

He feels warm all over in the best way. He wants to clock out, right now. Wants to ask you to leave with him. Go anywhere. He wants to pull you in close and kiss you, for real this time, the way he’s been dreaming of since that night stuck in the ski hut.

“Well, I’ll stop bothering you guys,” you say, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “Have a good rest of your shift, boys.”

Nico watches you go, barely even noticing the whip noises coming from the soundboard app on Jack’s phone.

“Leave him alone,” Luke says. “He’s in a hallmark movie. You wish you were him.”

…..

There’s really no better end to a day of skiing than a couple drinks, a hearty dinner, and a dip in the outdoor hot tub. The steam and mist surround you and your friends, snow lightly falling, the stars glittering above your heads where they peek through the clouds. The area is lit softly with warm lamps, and your glass of wine balances on the edge next to the water.

When the only person who could’ve possibly made this better appears in the doorway, your heart skips a beat.

Nico had texted you as soon as he was off work, mentioning he’d need to run home for a bit but that after that he was free. You’d already been headed to dinner at that point, plus had plans to head to the hot tub, and your friends had told you to invite him along. Now he’s here, and they’re giving you knowing smiles, and you’re…

You’re trying not to stare. Nico’s handsome, you know that. You’d also known he was fit, in theory. But his, something about seeing him like this, uncovered, finally, has your brain melting a little bit. His chest, his abs, his arms, his thighs. You want to touch.

You break out of your stupor to wave him over, as if he hasn’t already seen you, as if you aren’t the only ones here.

He smiles when he slips into the water, taking a seat next to you. He lets out a soft sigh, and you can see the tension in his shoulders unraveling. The steam billows around him, water already sticking to his skin. His dark hair looks freshly washed, towel dried. You want to run your fingers through it, but you resist.

“How was work?” You ask.

“Uneventful,” he says.

Dakota giggles. “No damsels in distress to rescue this time?”

You scoff. “I was only mildly in distress.”

Nico laughs as he rests an arm across the edge of the pool, his hand almost touching your shoulder. “No, no damsels.”

You turn towards him, blinking softly. “Good.”

“But Jack did manage to put his ski boots on the wrong feet,” he adds. “So there was some distress.”

“I think Jack would argue that he is a damsel,” Beck drawls.

Nico nods in agreement. “You’re probably right.”

You inch closer to him on the bench. In response, he smiles down at you, his hand slipping off the edge to rest against your shoulder, fingertips just barely slipping beneath the water. You’re warm, already, from the hot water, but sitting next to him like this has you heating up in a completely different way.

“How was your day?” He asks, quietly, as your friends chatter about some story Jack had told the night before.

“Amazing,” you sigh. “You guys have some good runs.”

He hums. “Everyone treated you nicely? No issues to report?”

You laugh and shake your head. “This really handsome guy ski patrols guy even bought me breakfast this morning. Talk about hospitality.”

It’s a leap of faith, but it proves to be worth it for the smile that breaks across Nico’s face, dimples running deep.

“Well, you know,” he says. “Least I could do for someone as pretty as you. And someone who was such good company.”

You smile up at him and lean closer, press yourself into his side. His arm wraps a little tighter to hold you there. Beneath the water, you let your hand drop to his knee, fingers tracing a swirling pattern against his skin. He shivers.

Dakota is the first one to tap out. She yawns, her curly ponytail bobbling atop her head as she shakes it off. “M’gonna turn in, I think. Long day.”

You scoff. “You woke up at 10:30.”

She glares at you. You’re not sure why you’re protesting, anyways. The sooner they leave…

Kimmy exchanges a look with Beck. “I think I might go up, too. Maybe we’ll get an early start tomorrow.”

You nod, absentmindedly, turning a little more toward Nico. You say goodnight to them, promising to text when you get back to your room and making plans for the next day as they gather their things.

Before she leaves, Beck crouches down next to the steps on the deck, wrapped up in her hotel robe. She beckons you over with two fingers. You leave Nico’s side reluctantly. She’s smiling wide, but she puts on a look of concern.

“You good?” She whispers.

Nico’s pretending he can’t hear. Maybe he really can’t, over the hot tub jets.

You nod enthusiastically. “So good.”

“Okay,” she says, her eyes flickering towards Nico. “Just because he saved you on the mountain-“

“Beck,” you protest, laughing a little. “I’m good. He’s good. He’s…”

“Yeah,” your friend says, her gaze going soft again. “I can tell.”

She gives you a loud kiss to the top of your head, stands up, and leaves, tossing you a wink over her shoulder. You turn back around. Nico hasn’t moved, arm still outstretched on the pool edge. He’s watching you with dark eyes, a soft smile on his lips.

“Come back,” he says, quietly.

So you do.

…..

The snow is still falling, melting like sugar when it hits the hot water. Steam curls up from the surface, wrapping around Nico’s every worry and anxiety about all of this and wiping them away. You’re there, tucked in against his side, your hand back on his leg. You want to be there.

Your head rests in the crook of his neck, nose brushing against his jaw. His chest aches. His hand, previously on your shoulder, slips lower. He brushes against your arm, and then slides under to hold your waist, fingers pressed against the warm skin under the water. You melt a little, beneath his touch. It makes him wonder how you’d react to all the ways he wants to touch you.

You turn towards him, one hand still planted on his leg, the other coming up to trace a line across his shoulder. You pick up water droplets along the way. Goosebumps follow your lead. He sinks a little further under, the water lapping at the hair at the nape of his neck.

He’s waiting for a signal. A sign. The right time. He’ll know it when he sees it. He takes a chance, presses a soft kiss to the swell of your cheek, then your temple.

You sigh. It’s almost a whine. His heart stutters.

“Are you gonna kiss me now, or are you gonna keep me waiting?” You ask, eyes wide and sparkling where you’re looking up at him.

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Kissing you is like nothing he’s ever had before. It’s everything he expected and more. It’s warm and bright, and you taste a little bit like wine, and a lot like you. Momentarily, the thought crosses his mind- he’s glad he didn’t do this in the hut. He’d have gotten lost in it, the way he is now, and the two of you would’ve never left.

You sigh against his lips, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, parts your lips with his own and takes. He cups your jaw in one hand, squeezes your hip with the other, feels your hands trailing down his chest and up his thigh. He’s so warm, overheating, almost. He aches with it. He needs you closer, needs you stuck to him like glue, needs to feel every inch of your body.

He wants to pull you into his lap.

You do it for him.

He winces, slightly, when you settle atop him, straddling his thighs. Because there’s not much between the two of you, just his swim trunks and your flimsy swimsuit, and he’s hard, already. It’s a little ridiculous, he knows.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, pulling back just slightly. Your brows furrow. He nods between the two of you. “About… You’re just so pretty, and I-“

And you laugh, that beautiful sound, his new favorite thing. You laugh, and you kiss his surely reddening cheeks.

“Nico,” you say, close to his ear, lips dragging against his skin. “Don’t you dare apologize.”

When you lean back to kiss him again, you rock your hips into his. This. This is heaven. He lets his hands roam, lets his fingers trace over every inch of skin. In return, he feels you, mapping his body beneath your own fingertips. It’s new. It’s good. He pulls away, slightly, and kisses down your jaw, trailing towards your neck. He grins at the feeling of your fingers in his hair. Your other hand reaches for his left bicep, prodding at his tattoo.

“What’s this?” You ask, out of breath.

Now?, he wants to say, you want to know this now?

He muffles his laughter into your neck, and you shiver. “Zodiac signs.”

He slips a finger under the strap of your swimsuit, the one that goes across your back. He toys with the fabric as he drags his teeth against the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

“Whose signs?”

He hums. “My family. My parents, my brother and sister.”

You smile. “That’s sweet.”

He slips his hands around your waist, down to squeeze at your ass, and you seem to forget all about the tattoo when your lips meet his again.

…..

“You know,” you gasp out, some time later, breaking away from his lips. “I have a room.”

Nico smiles softly, like he’s holding back a laugh. His lips are puffy, and you’re sure yours are the same. You can already feel the tingle of the beard burn his stubble and mustache have left behind while he worked his mouth over your neck.

“Is that so?” He says, voice light and lilting.

“Mhm,” you nod. He ducks his head again, lips plush against your collarbone. “We could. You know. Go there.”

This time the laugh does rumble out, deep in his chest. His eyes flicker up to yours, lips dragging downwards, mouthing at the expanse of skin between your neck and your swimsuit.

“We could,” he says. “Or we could stay here.”

You whine, trying to tear your eyes away, trying to stay levelheaded. His dark, almost all pupil gaze isn’t helping. Neither are his hands, teasing at the bare skin of your thighs.

“Yeah, and you could get fired,” you mumble, carding your hand through his hair. “I mean. If you don’t want to, we don’t have to, obviously, but-“

His hand is cupping your face within seconds, wet fingertips pressed against your cheek. He lifts his head to look you in the eye. God, he looks so soft like this. So warm.

“Hey,” he says, softly, kindly. “I want to.”

You grin back at him, and lean in to kiss him one more time.

You pull away, again, a few seconds later, and you hear him grumble at the loss as you slip off his lap. You nod your shoulder towards the door and start for the stairs, trailing your hand behind you towards him in the water.

He catches you halfway across the large hot tub, fingers knitting with yours. He adjusts himself in his swim shorts with a wince- you’re not ashamed of the way you watch. You think you can, by now. Then you towel off and slip into your robe while he wraps a towel around his waist.

He smiles at you, cheeks dimpling. “You look cute.”

And somehow, that’s what makes your face grow hot.

It’s so simple. So easy. In this overly charged moment, it’s sweet. He’s gonna melt you into a puddle if you’re not careful.

…..

It should be awkward, Nico thinks. This part always is. It’s like a reverse walk of shame, almost. There should be something uncomfortable in the air, walking his way to the elevator and up to the hotel room in his swimsuit that does little to hide anything, following after you in your hotel robe, his gaze never leaving you.

It should be awkward, but it isn’t.

It’s almost disconcerting, how right this feels, how simple and easy and comfortable he is. It almost knocks him off balance. But the elevator doors slide open, and you pull him in by the hand, and when they close behind you you punch a button for your floor and turn to look at him, eyes sparkling, and…

There’s no fear here. He feels like he’s been laid open in the best possible way. He suddenly wants to spill his guts to you, tell you his life story and show you his heart. But it’s a hotel elevator, and he’s also so hard, and now is so not the time. He’ll tell you eventually. Before you leave him. You need to know.

…..

Nico pins you up against the door to your room as soon as it closes behind the two of you. You were feeling warm before, but this has you burning up, has you aching for more. His lips are on yours seconds later, hands caging your sides, fingers pressing into the bathrobe. You arch into the touch, your hands on his shoulders and quickly wandering from there. Down, over his chest, skating across his abs, tugging at the hastily tied towel until it falls in a pile on the floor. You tuck your fingers into the waistband of his swim trunks, and he gasps into your mouth.

His hand slips away from your waist, into the pocket of your robe, and comes back with your phone, holding it up. He presses it into your hand.

“You’re supposed to text your friends,” he says. “When you get back to your room safely.”

Then his lips drop to your neck, and you fumble with the slippery piece of glass in your hands. He nips at your pulse point as you open the texts, leaves messy kisses down the line of your neck as you try to type. The words swim on the screen in front of you, your brain preoccupied with Nico Nico hands Nico lips please. It’s full of typos, probably, and they’re going to know you were only half paying attention to it. But Nico’s hands are roaming, and he’s hard where he’s pressed into your hip, and-

You hit send and fight the urge to toss the phone across the room. Instead, you shove it back in your pocket and slip your hands down again, fingers searching for the drawstring on his swimsuit.

It’s not long, then, before he gets you over to the bed, laid out on the cozy hotel sheets and duvet. You stare up at him where he stands at the end of the bed, fingers drawing a path down the front of your robe, to the bow tied with the cotton strap.

“Wait,” he says, gruffly. “I wanna.”

“Then come here,” you say, petulantly.

He laughs, leans over you on the bed, caging you in with his arms beside your head. “Impatient, huh?”

“I prefer needy,” you correct. “Need you.”

He takes his time unwrapping you, his large fingers working delicately at the knot, slipping the robe off your shoulders and opening up more skin in front of him. He traces his lips across new expanses, treating you to new sensations and studying your reactions with knowing grins. You melt into bliss beneath him as he knees his way onto the bed over you, and you wrap your arms around him, fingers tracing the muscles of his back as he gets to know you, too. He kisses the swell of your breasts not covered by your swimsuit, and you sigh. He mouths over the wet fabric, biting gently at the most sensitive spots, and grins against you when you arch your back for him. He undoes the straps of the top and rids you of the fabric, and he groans-

Your hands hover at his waistband. “Can I?”

He nods, eagerly, swallowing hard. Then he nearly collapses, mouth open in a soft pant, when you slip your hand down the front of his swim trunks.

His arms shake beside your head as you wrap your hand around him. You use your other hand to shimmy the clothing down his hips. You can feel him, but you want to see. He looks heavenly in your hands- you swear your mouth waters. He’s big and flushed and hard and leaking, and you-

You want.

Nico groans, his own hands slipping lower, tugging at your swimsuit bottoms. “Can I?” He asks, voice breathy.

“Mhm,” you agree.

They’re gone in seconds, his slow, methodical movements out the window when you’re touching him like this. His thumb brushes at your hip bone, gaze transfixed, pupils blown wide, chest heaving.

It still comes as a bit of a surprise when Nico pulls back, drops to his stomach on the bed, and pulls your knees over his shoulders. He rumbles out a long groan, blush high on his cheeks, lashes tangling together atop his hooded eyes.

“You want my fingers?” He asks, breathy. “Or. Or can I- I want to taste you. Please?”

He grins when you writhe beneath him, pulls you a little closer with his arms hooked around your legs.

“Please, Nico,” you mumble, your hand reaching down to thread in his hair and pull him closer. “Please.”

That seems to be the magic word.

…..

Nico wakes up the next morning to light fingertips drawing shapes across his cheekbones, dancing across his skin. He smiles before he even opens his eyes, then smiles wider at the giggle he hears from you in reply. The sound, the touch, the fact that he’s here, all make his heart lurch in his chest in the best way. You’ve been awake for a while, he knows, has been vaguely aware of your fidgeting next to him in bed for the past hour.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” you say, voice low and sweet.

He pries one eye open and looks at you, at the soft look on your face. “Morning, sunshine.”

He winds his arms around your middle and pulls you in, hands slipping under the t-shirt you’re wearing. It’s his, stolen from beside the bed before the two of you went to sleep the night before.

“I’m glad I stole your shirt,” you tell him. The smirk on your face is evident in your voice, even with your face hidden in his neck. “I had a nice view to keep me occupied while you were refusing to wake up.”

“It was early,” he says, bordering on a whine, though he also knows his cheeks are turning red.

Your fingers squeeze at his upper arm. “It was later than when we met for breakfast yesterday.”

Nico grumbles and groans, reaching down to pinch your ass lightly, laughing when you yelp. “Yeah, but yesterday I didn’t wake up to you in my bed. That makes a difference.”

Instead of trying to argue, you just sigh. He knows he’s won, then. So instead, he presses his face into your neck just to feel you shiver, and starts kissing the sensitive skin, all while pushing you onto your back, rolling you under him so he can pin you to the bed.

If he gets his way, you’re not going anywhere.

As if the universe has it out for him, there’s a knock on the door. You yelp in surprise, and before he even has a chance to say anything you’re wriggling out from under him, reaching for a pair of shorts you’d left next to your suitcase and pulling them up your legs. Nico flops over onto his back, stares at the ceiling, and fights back a petulant groan.

The thing is, it’s probably one of your friends, asking what your plans are for the day. He feels guilty, suddenly- you’re here on a girls trip, and he’s already stolen so much of your time. Sure, the night spent at the hut wasn’t his fault. But the time at the bar, and the breakfast yesterday, all of last night, and then this morning-

He pushes himself to sit up in bed, leaning against the headboard. He should tell you he has plans today. Let you go spend time with your friends. The thought makes his chest ache, and the sudden fear is back- how long does he have left? Will he get to see you again after this? Does this mean as much to you as it does to him? God, he has no idea where you’re even from. He wracks his brain, trying to remember any mention of it in your previous conversations-

You peek around the corner. “Hi.”

God, he can’t even think about all his worries when you’re smiling at him like that. “Hi. Who was it? Beck?”

You quirk a brow. “No. Better.”

You step out from behind the wall, toting a room service cart behind you. The smell of breakfast food fills the air.

Fuck, I’m falling in love, he thinks.

He doesn’t say it out loud, even if he wants to. It’s not even the food itself, it’s that you know him so well already. He thinks of how he grumbled about the breakfast options that morning in the ski hut, settling for stale poptarts and dreaming of hash browns and eggs and bacon, and now you’re here, ordering room service for him to wake up to. Like maybe you care for him the same way he cares for you.

He fights another groan when you shimmy the shorts back off as you cross the room towards him. When you get close enough to the bed for him to reach, he wraps his arm around your middle and pulls you back into the bed and into his lap, his arm around your middle to keep you there, sending a burst of laughter up through your lips. He reaches for the cart with his other arm and pulls it towards the bed so he can reach, and then leans down to kiss your temple.

“You have plans today?” He asks, quietly. “I don’t wanna soak up all your time…”

You shrug and lean back, twisting to kiss his jaw lightly. “Dakota’s skiing with a coworker today. Kimmy’s partner is coming up, so they’re spending the day together… god, she might already be here by now. And Beck has plans with Jack, apparently.”

Nico raises his brows at the last bit. You shrug.

“I don’t know what that’s about, either, but that gives us allllll day to do whatever we want,” you say. “We just have dinner plans at 6:00, if you wanna join.”

Nico’s heart squeezes. You look so happy.

He lifts a piece of bacon off a plate. “First, breakfast. And then, I want to take you skiing.”

Your smile widens. “Sounds perfect.”

…..

“Nico. I know how to put on skis, you know,” you tell him.

He’s kneeling at your feet, checking your bindings. He’s out of his work gear and in his own personal ski gear, a sleek black helmet and a burgundy jacket that compliments his rosy cheeks well. When he smiles up at you, your heart skips a beat. And really, why are you complaining? It’s endearing. And a little hot.

“I know,” he says, dimples digging into his cheeks. “You are very capable and very independent. And also, I worry.”

“Okay,” you say, nodding. “Thank you.”

When he stands back up, he checks your helmet straps, too. You do the same to him, and he rolls his eyes affectionately.

“What do you think, we safe to go?” You ask.

He nods happily.

Skiing with Nico is fun, and not just because he’s nice to look at. He just gets you so well. He likes all the same runs, wants to go at the same speeds as you. He’s happy to break when you want, happily dragging you into a cute cafe atop the mountain when you mention being hungry. He cheers you on when you do something cool, and he checks you over with concern when you fall flat on your ass.

You’re laughing before he even makes it over to you. You go to push yourself back up to your feet, and he tuts, crouching down next to you, a hand on your shoulder.

“Did you hit your head?” He asks, voice harried.

“No, Neeks,” you say, the nickname slipping without thinking. “Just bruised my ass, probably.”

Nico frowns. “That’s my job.”

You gasp, fake appalled, though you’re smiling. “Nico!”

“Sorry,” he says, a goofy expression on his face. He reaches an arm out to pull you up. “Promise you’re alright?”

You nod. Your helmet bumps against his when you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Promise.”

The two of you ski through the late afternoon, till the sun starts to slip down the horizon. It paints the sky a pinky orange color, bright and rich. You and Nico stop at a little lodge before you head down, stepping out on the patio to look at the mountain. Your helmet and goggles are off. As much as you’ve had fun skiing with him, you’ll admit you’ve missed seeing his eyes. God, the way he looks at you makes your heart skip a beat. You love the crinkles by his eyes, the way his thick eyebrows creep up his forehead, the slope of his nose. You love all of it. You love-

You swallow. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says. “Want me to take your picture?”

You nod, patting your pockets for your phone, but Nico already has his in his hand. The look on his face behind the screen is so fond as you pose that you can’t help but smile wide and full and bright. Maybe that’s the point. It’s like they say, if only you could see yourself through his eyes.

“Beautiful,” he says.

You are, you think.

He goes to put his phone away after a few snaps, and you pout slightly. There’s a woman standing not far away, and you wave to get her attention. You slip Nico’s phone from his hand with one hand, and grab his other hand with your other, knitting your fingers together.

“Would you mind taking a picture of us?” You ask.

The woman smiles. “Of course.”

When you step into place, hand in hand with him, you look up at Nico and find him staring back at you. That’s the look you want to have forever. You want to be able to look back at this day, see the expression on his face and know that it was real. He’s so fond it makes you ache deep in your chest. You smile nicely for a couple photos, and then for one last one, you lean up to kiss his cheek. You want to remember that, too. When the woman gives the phone back, Nico tucks it back in his pocket and then wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you firmly against his chest. His jacket is slightly unzipped, and you press the side of your face into the gap, against the soft fleece, and stare out at the sunset.

“We should head down soon,” he says, quietly, like he’s trying not to break the peace. “Don’t wanna be late for dinner.”

You hum. “Or we could skip dinner. Keep it just us.”

He laughs and presses his lips to the top of your head. “You don’t mean that.”

You sigh. “I don’t.”

The two of you make your way down to the bottom, darkness creeping in by the time you make it to the lodge. Nico grabs his bag from one of the lockers and follows you up to your room. You’d made the plan earlier, when he’d realized he should probably run home to grab a change of clothes and his gear. You both get changed, already comfortable enough to do so in front of each other. You sneak past Nico to check your hair and put on a little makeup. When you go to step past him and back into the room, he catches you by the elbow and drags you into a lipstick ruining kiss. You let him. You’ll always let him kiss you. You tangle your hands in his fancy shirt without a care for the wrinkles you’re going to cause, and let him ruck up the hem of your dress searching for skin with wandering hands.

And then there’s a knock on your door, and Beck’s voice, yelling, “CHOW TIME!”

Jack’s voice follows. “Schao! Keep it in your pants! I want pasta!”

Nico groans, loudly. You unwrap your hands and smooth his shirt, kissing his cheek.

“One sec,” you call out.

You run a hand through Nico’s hair to smooth it back into place. He fixes your dress for you, and your hair, and you step into the bathroom to reapply your lipstick. When you step back out, he’s waiting, hands in his pocket. You hold out your arms, make a questioning face, and do a little spin.

“Gorgeous,” he says, softly. He holds out an elbow. “Ready?”

You nod at him, entranced. He opens the door and leads you out into the hallway. Jack and Beck are waiting, with Jack pretending to check his nonexistent watch on his wrist. You roll your eyes. Beck greets you with a hug, and pulls you along, out of Nico’s grip and towards the elevator. You look back to apologize, but he just nods, always understanding.

“How was your day?” Beck asks, brows raised. “How was your night?”

“Good,” you say, carefully, feeling the heat rise on your cheeks. “Really good.”

“That’s all I get?”

“How was your day, Beck?” You ask, nodding towards Jack and Nico, who’ve fallen back to give you room to chat.

Beck rolls her eyes, though she’s smiling. “He offered to show me around. You guys were all busy.”

Your face falls. “Hey, I would’ve gone with you-“

She shakes her head. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I wanted you to have time with him. Jack offered, he’s fun to hang out with. I had a good day.”

You eye her skeptically.

“They both have to work tomorrow,” she adds. “Tomorrow, it’s you and me and a mountain full of snow.”

You nod and reach out, hooking your pinky around hers. The elevator doors slide open, and Jack and Nico rejoin the two of you. He gives you a questioning look, and you just nod back up at him. You’ll tell him later, sometime, about how protective Beck is. About how you’re a hopeless romantic who gets herself into trouble, and that Beck’s approval means the world. She’s always watching out for you. If she believes it too…

Dinner is wonderful. It’s the fanciest restaurant at the lodge, your one big splurge night. You sit next to Nico, his arm around your chair nearly the whole time, his gaze soft and glittery in the candlelight. He shares bites of his pasta with you, and steals bites off your plate, and waits patiently to hear your verdict on both dishes. He laughs with your friends, laughs with you, smiles so sweetly when you lean against him.

He’s perfect.

You want to stay here forever.

After dinner, he suggests a drink at the hotel bar. The others trickle away, headed up to rooms or home or wherever, you’re not sure, not really paying attention. All you can think about is his hand on the small of your back, warm and heavy as he leads you to the bar. The way he orders for both of you is hot, the way he looks to you to check he got it right is even hotter. The two of you find your spot from the night before still open, and you collapse into the loveseat with him.

The conversation flows so easily, and when the two of you do fall quiet, it's a comfortable silence. He nurses a beer in one hand, caresses your thigh with the other. And even though you’re thinking about it, you don’t break the happy bubble with talk of setting labels or seeing him again. You just bask in the glow of him, hoping he’s on the same page as you, anyways.

You ask him up to your room again for the second night in a row, and he grins into your temple, hand squeezing at your hip. The way he kisses you is enough of a yes to get your heart racing all over again.

…..

Nico’s panicking.

He’d woken up early that morning for work, untangled himself from you and left with a kiss to your forehead, you still wearing his shirt. He hated to leave you, but he couldn’t exactly just ditch work. He’d floated through another morning briefing, dreaming of fluffy blankets and pillows and you, and barely pulled himself together when he got asked a direct question. He’d answered well enough to satisfy his boss, but he’d also heard Jack snickering behind him, so who knows.

Anyways. Around lunchtime, when he still hasn’t managed to spot you on the mountain, he remembers what you said the other day, about having three days left, and his heart sinks. He feels sick, suddenly. Three days. He counts the time in his head, the moments all blurring together. That means….

Today is your last day here.

Maybe you’re leaving tomorrow morning. He’s not sure. He remembers something Beck said- a shorter last day, a drive, someone having to catch a flight. Anxiety swirls in his chest.

“Schao,” Jonas says, standing next to him. When he doesn’t answer immediately, Nico gets an elbow to the ribs. “Hey. What’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Nico swallows. “I. It’s nothing.”

Jonas cocks his head. “She leaves today, doesn’t she?”

Nico grimaces and nods.

Jonas lets out a long sigh. “Go.”

“What?”

“Go,” Jonas says. “Go find her. Talk to her.”

He blinks at his friend in confusion. “We’re working.”

“I’ll cover for you,” Jonas says. “They’re probably eating lunch. Go find her. Look, man, you’re never gonna know until you talk to her.”

Nico swallows again. Then he nods, and takes off down the mountain.

You’re half a sandwich in with Beck at the cafe at the bottom of the mountain when he finds you- running on intuition and your mention of wanting to go to the cafe the day before. Beck’s the one to spot him, the one who waves him over. Guilt gnaws at his gut- you’d mentioned having a day with Beck, today, and he’d promised himself he wouldn’t interfere. God, what if this ruins it, what if Jonas was wrong, what if you hate that he’s showed up-

You turn around and smile at him, and something unfurls in his chest. He can’t be worried, not when you look at him like that. Big eyes, soft smile, like you’re relieved to see him. You stand up from the table and meet him halfway. There’s a patio area with heaters going- he takes you by the hand and leads you outside.

“Hi,” he says, quietly.

“Hi,” you say back, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You okay?”

He nods. Then shrugs. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” you say, kindly, shaking your head. “Beck’s been yapping about Jack. I needed a break anyways.”

Nico laughs. It feels hollow. His heart is pounding in his chest. He realizes, now, that he should’ve rehearsed what he was going to say, should’ve had a plan. He’s here, and he doesn’t even know where to start.

“Nico, hey,” you say, reaching out to rest a hand on his upper arm. “What is it? Is everything okay? Is someone hurt, or-“

“No, no, I just-“ he sighs. His eyes flicker across your face. He has to say it. Needs to tell you. He can’t let you leave him before he tells you. ”I just wanted to talk to you before you leave, and I didn’t know what time you guys were heading out, and-“

“I wasn’t gonna leave without saying goodbye to you,” you say, gently, squeezing his arm.

“Oh,” he breathes.

Now he feels a little dumb.

“It’s just-“ he starts again. “Look. I don’t know. Maybe this is crazy. I don’t even know where you live. Beck said you guys have a plane to catch. But I don’t want you to leave without telling you that I don’t want this to end here. I really, really like you. I want more. I want more breakfasts and more ski days and to actually get to know you, and I don’t know how we’re going to make that work, but we can, right?”

When you start to laugh, for just a moment, his heart sinks.

And then he looks at you- the glitter of your eyes, the smile across your pretty lips, the way you’re reaching out to hold him with both hands on each arm and squeezing softly. And something settles in him, the panic starts to fade.

“Beck has to catch a flight tonight,” you say with a nod. “For a work trip.”

“Okay,” he says.

“Nico, I live two towns over,” you tell him, and every bit of tension in his body starts to unravel. “Like a 45 minute drive, max. I’m sorry, I thought I told you that. I could be back here next weekend, or you could come see me, or we could meet halfway. Because I really, really like you, and I want all of that, too.”

He smiles down at you, sure his cheeks and nose are red. “So I panicked for no reason.”

“Yeah, but it was cute,” you tell him.

He sighs, softly. “Like you.”

You grin affectionately. “Like you.”

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he says, taking a step closer, lifting his hand to cup your face. “But there are definitely a bunch of people watching us.”

You shrug. “Let them.”

He takes your face in his hands and kisses you, in broad daylight, the ski resort rising up behind the two of you. You’re right. Let them watch, he doesn’t care. You’re worth the teasing he might have to endure later. All of it is worth it for this, to kiss you and have you kiss him back, to know you have the same feelings coursing through your veins.

When he pulls away, you’re a little breathless.

“You still better not leave before saying goodbye,” he says. “And start thinking of a restaurant you wanna meet at. I’ll drive to you. Maybe next Friday?”

You bite your lip and nod. “Sounds perfect.”

”Okay. Great,” he says. He presses a kiss to your forehead. ”I have to go now, before I get fired.”

You laugh. He thinks- knows, really- that he’ll never get sick of that sound. You lean up and kiss his cheek, and then shove at his shoulder.

“Go,” you tell him, smiling ear to ear. “Be safe.”

Jonas just shakes his head when Nico shows back up. He’s sure it’s written all over his face. He doesn’t care. He’ll float through the rest of the day, through all the days until he gets to see you again.

He’s never been more thankful for a freak snowstorm than in that very moment.

….

You sit in the backseat of Beck’s car as you leave the resort. Nico’s there to see you off, a goodbye full of stolen kisses and teasing from your friends (and Jack, who’d been there to say goodbye, too) that you gladly ignored. You’ve already texted him a list of restaurants. Plus a list of coffee shops for the morning after your date, after he mentioned he wouldn’t have to work the next day. You’d told him to pack an overnight bag, and he’d blushed and nodded.

Beck eyes you in the mirror. “Should I start planning your wedding now?”

You laugh, and so do the rest of your friends, but you don’t say no.

You turn back once more to wave at Nico. He’s standing here, red ski patrol jacket on, waving right back. You turn back just in time to read the backside of the welcome sign as you pass under it.

Thanks for visiting Blackbird Mountain Ski Resort! Come back soon!

In your lap, there’s a little recreation of the lodge, locked away inside a snowglobe, gifted to you by Nico just before you finally got in the car. You watch the tiny flakes of fake snow settle and smile. You’ll be back as soon as possible, you think. Your new favorite place on earth.

Or maybe, it’s more about the people you met along the way.

…..

thank you for reading!!! <3

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x you #nico hischier fanfic #Nico hischier fic #Nico hischier fluff #Nico hischier oneshot #Nico hischier fanfiction #Nico hischier imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl oneshot #nhl fluff

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revelboo · 6 hours ago

Note

I was rereading some of the Waspinator story and had the sudden thought that... Oh no, my body wash is honey scented...

Accidental alien wasp catnip 🤣 I honestly didn’t think of that- I use honey scented stuff too- the Mielle honey and pomegranate conditioner.

Worker Bee Pt 21

Waspinator x Reader

• After giving up and going to get the dish soap to use on him, you do end up running out of hot water well before Waspinator is no longer sticky. And while the cold water doesn’t seem to bother him, you’re shivering and miserable by the time he’s clean. While he’s still just sitting in the shower hopefully sobering up and questioning his life choices. Shutting off the water and wrapping a towel around yourself, he whines and stares up at you. “Feeling better?” You ask, trying to decide if his miserable expression is guilt or a hangover.

• Not at all, but he nods obediently and crawls out of the shower. Leaning against you when you start drying him off. Hooking his arms around you and whining when you pointedly remove them. “Waspinator sorry,” he mumbles and you sigh. But then you do that a lot. “Trying to do right. Trying to date.” And not off to a good start. You hand like the flowers or the food. Had gotten distracted patrolling by the sticky outdoor snacks and that had upset you, too. Always upsetting you without meaning to. “Try harder,” he promises and you groan like you’re in pain. You do that a lot, too.

• This again. Why is he so fixated on dating you? “About that. Sweetie, dating is for getting to know someone you want to spend time with.” He’s just staring up at you with wide, dumb optics and you know he’s going to misunderstand that. But you can’t make yourself explain sex to your ugly puppy either. It’s not like he’d understand, he’s sweet and so innocent. “Intimate time.” Hoping this isn’t a subject he latches onto and just keeps asking questions about.

• “Mates,” he says and you frown at him. “Waspinator be a good mate. Take care of little friend. Share a hive.” Watches your mouth open and close. And you just drop the towel you were using to dry him on his head before he hears you walk away. Tossing it aside, he trails after you as you head for your recharge space and start digging through your coverings. Draping himself against your back, he’s feels you stiffen when he rests his head on top of yours and wraps his arms around you. “Protect.” You fit so perfectly in his arms, like you’re meant to be there. Meant to be his.

• Nope. Squirming out of his grip, you hold up your hands, palms out. “Look, I’m flattered.” Backing away as he follows, antenna perked up. “Really, but I’m human. You’re… you.” Still haven’t figured that one out since every attempt to ask him what he is gets you ‘Waspinator’ and a blank stare. “It just wouldn’t work.” Sure, you’re not as horrified by him as when you’d first found him and he refused to leave, but he’s, well, him. Dumb, but sweet in his own way. Not ugly, but unsettlingly alien. Even if you’ve gotten used to how he looks and even think he’s adorable when he stares at you with a thought in that buggy head. You’re resigned to being stuck with him at this point, but not to having an alien, bug husband. And his antenna flatten back, looking like a kicked puppy.

• “Don’t have to love Waspinator,” he says, wings buzzing as he drops to his knees and hooks his arms around your legs. Don’t make him go. Don’t send him away from you and home. “Can yell at Waspinator. Hit Waspinator.” Just let him stay here with you. Take care of you even if you don’t want him, even if you never want him. “Waspinator doesn’t care. Happy here.” And he’s not sure that he’s ever actually been happy before you. Resting his head on you and looking up your body, he’s whines at you. Pleading.

• Why does he have to sound so pathetic? Just staring up at you with those big optics. Begging to stay with you. It’s not like you’re the least bit compatible with him that way. He’s missing the necessary equipment. And those pleading optics and his broken, fearful tone wear down your resistance. What could it hurt to play along? To just keep your giant, annoying puppy. Let him believe he’s dating you if it keeps him happy. “No one’s making you leave. This is your home,” You find yourself saying despite yourself. And he lunges, knocking you flat on the bed and the air from your lungs with his weight, wings buzzing. Staring at the ceiling as his mandibles brush your neck, you pet his antenna and wonder how this will come back to bite you.

I just realized some of the minis I have are defender sized… and I’m going to be absolutely awful with this information…

#transformers x reader #waspinator x reader #Waspinator

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organic-bloodbath · 2 days ago

Text

Knife Princess - Part 4

Chishiya x Reader

Summary: You and Chishiya reunite with your friends – and also the King of Spades.

Warnings: Heavy angst. Hold my hand. It's sad.

A/N: I'm sorry.

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ♡ Part 3

♤♡♧◇

You and Chishiya had ended up into an old thrift shop of sorts. It had been raining very heavily earlier, so you had gone inside the first building you were able get into, just to get to the safety from getting completely soaked.

You helped yourself with some new clothes hanging on the racks, not wanting to stay in your wet shirt and shorts and catch a flu – like that was your biggest problem here.

"So, what do you think?" you asked, holding two shirts, one in each hand. The other one was pastel pink and the other dark green. "Which color suits me better?"

"Green," Chishiya said, not giving it much thought as in thinking the answer was obvious. "Pink is too girly for a badass like you."

"You think i'm a badass, hm?"

"I know you are, i've witnessed it with my own eyes," he confirmed.

"I'm touched," you smiled and pulled your old shirt over your head, feeling Chishiya's gaze lingering on your upper body. A playful smirk spread on your face. "You know, it's rude to stare when a woman is changing her clothes."

"Can't help it when you're doing it right in front of me," Chishiya stated, having no shame looking at you now.

"When we get back home," you said when you had changed into new clothes, "what do you want to do first?"

Chishiya was quiet for a moment. "I haven't given it much thought. Getting home always seemed to be so far, no matter how much we progressed through the games," Chishiya answered, furrowing his brows a little. "What about you?"

"First, a long hot bath," you sighed, already daydreaming of all the bubbles and warmth embracing your body. "Then, have a fresh and delicious, homemade dinner. Something else than expired protein bars or having to hunt down food by your own hands."

"Sounds almost too good to be true," he smiled. "Your expectations sound a little too high."

"I hope you'll join me though," you suggested.

"The bath or dinner?" he asked, lifting his left eyebrow in amusement.

"Both," you said and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Perhaps," he mused and was about to grab your waist until you looked over his shoulder and your eyes widened. "What?"

You pushed him away and walked to the back of the room to an old gramophone record player.

"Oh my gosh. Does this thing work?" you asked, brushing the dust off its surface.

There was pile of old records next to it which nobody had touched in ages, probably in years by the looks of it. You started going through them, one by one. Chishiya only looked at you, leaning against the wall, without interrupting you. He loved seeing you so excited about something and only watched you in awe.

You ended up pulling one of the records in your hand, admiring its cover on the front and back.

The gramophone was old, definitely one of those vintage items. Chishiya had never used one of those but you seemed to know how it was supposed to work. As you pressed the needle gently on top of the black record, it started playing music. It was a slow song. You looked into Chishiya's eyes and smiled, excitement clear on your face, which made Chishiya suspicious.

"Chishiya," you said slowly and took his hand, pulling him towards you. "Dance with me."

"What?"

"Dance with me."

"I don't dance," he refused and shook his head, trying to subtly back away from you.

"Come on, just one song," you insisted.

"Y/N, i don't-"

"Come onnnnn," you groaned. "Don't be a buzzkill."

"I'm not-"

"Take my hand," you commanded him, not taking a 'no' for an answer.

"Y/N, i really don't-" Chishiya started but the sad and pouting look on your face made his heart melt a little. He let out a deep sigh. "Fine. One song."

He didn't look happy but you didn't care, you'd get the grumpiness out of him in no time.

Chishiya took your hand in his, putting his other hand on your waist. He was stepping on your toes as your bodies moved together, trying to stay in sync, which made you laugh.

"Don't laugh at me, i'm trying," he mumbled, looking surprisingly concentrated on his steps but still failing.

Chishiya knew that if Kuina and the others were here to witness this moment, they would definitely make fun of him, he could imagine the picture in his mind. Chishiya didn't get embarrassed easily, if ever, but stumbling on you and looking like a disaster of a dancer managed to make him a little embarrassed if there was anyone to see him – other than you.

"It's cute," you chuckled. "Now, spin me."

Chishiya let go of your waist, spinning you around under his arm. He then pulled your body back against his, your back against his chest, his arms around your waist. Chishiya let his chin rest on your left shoulder.

"Look at you, you're a pro after all," you praised him.

"I suppose i have many hidden talents," Chishiya hummed.

"Yeah? Name a few more of them," you challenged him.

"You'll have to find out later."

"I see you want to act all mysterious," you smirked.

"Can't be too predictable."

"That you definitely aren't," you agreed. "I have many hidden talents too, you know."

"I'm sure you do since you keep surprising me over and over again," he said and lifted his brows.

"Good."

Both of you fell silent for a while, only looking into each other's eyes. He was still holding you behind your back, squeezing you tight against him.

"Can i ask you a question?" you asked. "Like, a serious one?"

"Hm?"

"What really happens when we get home? Like, between us. Everything's going to be different."

"Well," Chishiya said, looking away from you for a second. You turned around to face him better now. He turned his gaze back to your eyes. "What do you want to happen?"

"I don't know," you said shyly. "I want to have you there though. I don't want you to leave."

"Hm," he hummed. "Well, i don't want you to leave either."

"For real?" you asked and bit your lip, reaching to put a strand of his blond hair behind his ear. "So, you admit you like me?"

"Do i need to say it outloud?" he asked. "My actions of kissing and holding you aren't enough?"

"Come on, admit it," you smiled. "Sometimes people might kiss someone but doesn't genuinely like them."

Chishiya took a deep breath. "Fine. I like you, Y/N."

"Doesn't sound very convincing," you teased, narrowing your eyes.

"It doesn't, hm?" Chishiya asked. "What would convince you then? Want me to take you on a proper date?"

"You make it sound like you are obliged to do that."

"Trust me, i'll never do anything i don't want to do," he promised.

"So, you do want to take me out?" you asked, slight blush creeping its way on your cheeks.

"Unless it involves dancing," he corrected and let out a laugh. "You saw how bad i was at that."

"I wasn't thinking about that but now i do want to go dancing with you," you smirked and played with his hair a little more. "And you weren't that bad."

"Anything else," he insisted.

You let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine..."

"I do enjoy your company," Chishiya confirmed. "So, i don't really mind what we do, but dancing is off limits."

"What do you enjoy about my company?" you teased him.

"Everything," he whispered with a warm smile which made your cheeks feel warm.

You weren't sure when the music had stopped but it was suddenly completely quiet in the background.

♤♡♧◇

You walked forward next to Chishiya, not really knowing what your exact destination was right now.

"So, when i was –"

You were interrupted when you noticed a familiar figure in the distance. Both of you stopped and only looked at the person ahead of you for a moment. A relief washed over your body for seeing a familiar face.

"Arisu?" you gasped.

"Fancy meeting you here," Chishiya said.

"Y/N? Chishiya?" Arisu asked, genuinely surprised.

"I had a pretty good hunch that you were still alive," Chishiya admitted to Arisu, who eyed Chishiya for a moment.

"You're a lot less grumpy now," Arisu commented, making Chishiya laugh.

"That's on me," you smiled, proud of yourself.

"Less grumpy, huh? Well, we've been through hell of a lot." Chishiya slowly walked closer to Arisu, hands in his pockets. "Can i admit something to you?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, i–" Chishiya started, but was interrupted by a gunshot, which made all three of you flinch. The gunshot was aimed at Chishiya, who now fell on the ground, red spot growing on his white hoodie. Chishiya was holding his stomach, leaning on his elbow on the ground.

"Yo!" someone shouted in the distance.

"Chishiya!" you shrieked in horror, instantly kneeling down next to him. Arisu pointed his gun towards the person who was approaching you now.

"I thought i'd never see you again." Niragi pointed a gun towards Arisu. "I'm so fucking happy."

"Niragi?" you mumbled in disbelief. He was the last person you expected to see anymore, thinking him and Aguni had burned with the mansion. "You're alive?"

"Why do you sound surprised? Can't get rid of me that easily," he responded with a smirk.

"Should have guessed," you said, rolling your eyes.

"What, you're not happy to see your dear brother, hm?" Niragi asked. "I sure missed you so much, little sunshine."

"I'm so happy to see you, dear brother who shot me twice," you responded sarcastically.

"I shot you?" Niragi asked, furrowing his eyebrows, genuinely confused.

"At the Beach, yes," you spat and crossed your arms on your chest.

"You sure it was me?" Niragi narrowed his eyes. You just gave him an annoyed look. "Fine, you want me to apologise or something?"

"That would be nice, sure."

"I mean, you look alive and well so no permanent harm done," Niragi shrugged. You sent him another poisonous look, making him roll his eyes. "Alright, I'm sorry."

"Mhm," you hummed, not satisfied at all but tired of dealing with his attitude. You eyed him from head to toe. "You look a little crispy."

"This is what fire does to human flesh, sunshine," Niragi said back sarcastically, the tone matching yours. "Anyway, let's begin – our own murder game."

"Our own what now?" you asked, sure you hadn't heard him correctly.

"Not that there's anything else for the three of us to do here." Niragi glanced at you and winked. "You're sitting this one out, sweetheart. It's just between us guys."

"You want to start a game between the players?" Chishiya asked, even him sounding surprised.

"The three of us are the same. Social outcast. Losers. Yet we still want to know how it feels to be alive," Niragi explained, but then he coughed and spat blood on the ground by his feet. "I don't have very much time left." Niragi wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Do me one last favor. One more game."

Chishiya and Arisu glanced at each other.

"Come on, I thought you guys were my bros!" Niragi groaned, raising his voice.

Niragi threw a gun for Chishiya, who stepped forward to pick it up.

"Sounds like fun. Arisu, what do you think?"

"What do you mean?" Arisu looked as lost and shocked as you.

"Come on, i know you have a bone to pick with me. Might as well deal with it right now."

"Chishiya, what the hell is wrong with you?" you whispered to him and grabbed him by his shoulder, turning him to look at you. "Put that gun down right now, don't start messing with Niragi."

"Y/N, it's okay," he assured you and turned back to Arisu and Niragi. "We can settle things once and for all."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Arisu shouted.

"Come on, where's your gun? I know you got one," Niragi said to Arisu.

"There's gotta be another way to do this," Arisu insisted.

Niragi was tired of waiting and shot towards Arisu, but missed. Right that second Chishiya pushed you behind the car so you'd stay out of the way and not get put between the shooting.

Niragi was soon standing on top of one of the cars, doing some sort of dramatic speech. God, how much you wanted to throw your knife through his eye right now. But you didn't.

After a while, Usagi arrived to the scene, silencing everyone. Everything happened faster than you managed to comprehend the situation.

Another gunshot was fired, making Chishiya fall on the ground on his back, having taken a second bullet into his body now. Niragi had meant to shoot Usagi, but Chishiya had decided to step in and sacrifice himself or whatever the hell he was thinking of doing. In return, Arisu shot Niragi.

"Chishiya!" you and Usagi shouted in unison.

"Why did you do that?" Usagi cried.

"I wanted to do something that was a bit out of character," Chishiya stated, trying to smile a little bit.

You, Usagi and Arisu surrounded Chishiya, all of you worried about him.

"No, no, no," you whimpered, more to yourself than to Chishiya. "This can't be happening right now."

"Y/N, calm down," Chishiya said, looking directly into your eyes. "I'll be alright."

If Chishiya died from bleeding out right now, you'd actually go and kill Niragi with your own hands.

"Oh, and by the way, Niragi!" Chishiya shouted with a smug grin on his face now. "You're going to become an uncle."

Niragi looked at him for a moment with a puzzled expression on his face, glancing shortly towards you, until his face darkened. Your eyes widened as well, not expecting Chishiya to drop the bomb like that.

"You knocked up my sister?!" he shouted, trying to get up but he was too wounded from the wound Arisu caused at him. The tone of his voice was so angry and harsh that he would have definitely attacked Chishiya with his bare hands if he was able to.

"Wasn't my original intention," Chishiya shouted back. Normally he would have been terrified to shout anything like that to Niragi, but he had already shot Chishiya twice anyway, so what did it matter anymore?

"So, what? You're a couple now?" Niragi scoffed. "Going to build a nice little family in the suburbs or something?"

You rolled your eyes and was about to say something back, when you heard more shooting coming from the distance. This time, it wasn't Niragi.

The King of Spades arrived, dressed in a long black cloak, shooting every person in his sight.

Everything became a huge chaos. People were running away from him left and right. You spotted Ann and Kuina running towards you.

Soon, someone drove over him with a car, setting the car in flames. People started to cheer that you had won, the King was finally defeated – but they were wrong, very wrong. Because the King rose from the flames like a phoenix, throwing his cloak away and finally revealed his face.

It was only a man. One man who nobody seemed to defeat. He had a long scar across his cheek and the look in his eyes was colder than death itself. There was no emotion in his gaze, only the crave for more death until every single person in this country was gone except him. He was dressed in some sort of bulletproof vest, so it would be useless to shoot to his chest.

Both Chishiya and Niragi were bleeding out on the ground. You kneeled down in front of Chishiya with wide eyes when the King had gone our of sight for a moment. His white hoodie was being dyed in red on his stomach which he was holding with his hand.

"Chishiya, i-"

"It's okay, Y/N," he assured you and smiled. "He didn't hit any vital organs."

"Are you sure about it?" you asked, more worried than ever before, and cupped his face in your hands. "I can't let you die here just like this. Tell me what i can do, please."

You tried to put your hand against his wound, but he put his hand gently around your wrist.

"Hey, you were shot twice and survived, i can do the same." Chishiya smirked. "By the same man too."

You looked at him in the eyes, finding nothing funny or even slightly amusing about the situation.

"I'll go and help our friends, okay?" you said and brushed his face with your thumb. "Promise to live for me."

"I promise," he nodded.

You looked into his eyes for a little longer, genuinely afraid for his life.

"I'll be back soon."

You took his face in your hands and kissed him, keeping your lips on his longer than before. You didn't want to let go, you wanted to stay like this for much longer but you knew you couldn't.

Then, you walked away from him, on your way to help your friends to beat the King. You were unharmed, for now, so you couldn't just stand or sit around doing nothing while others were fighting back.

But Chishiya wanted you to stay. He didn't want you to go after the King, because there was a high chance that you wouldn't return to him unharmed anymore. But he knew you wouldn't let your friends be alone in the fight.

"So," Niragi started awkwardly when you had been out of sight for a minute or two. "Didn't leave banging her for one time only?"

"We had a few rounds."

Niragi laughed. "You're definitely not his usual type."

"Yeah? What's her usual type then?" Chishiya asked, slightly curious.

"You know, toxic assholes," he shrugged. "Not sure if you're any better than that though, but they were atleast taller and more... masculine looking."

Chishiya didn't respond to that. He already knew you were too good for him. How could he deserve someone like you? You two weren't in an exclusive relationship together, there had been no conversation of you two being a couple – would you move on from him when you'd get back home? Back to your own friends in your real life?

You had talked about what was to come between you, just a little bit, but it was a different thing to talk about it and have it actually happen.

When you would escape this world, you wouldn't need Chishiya to protect and take care of you anymore. What if he had been only a short comfort to you, being able to feel safe during these games, trying to avoid death at all cost?

He didn't know what he wanted from you, truly wanted, but he didn't want you to leave him alone, no matter what kind of part you would play in his life. Lover, partner, friend – he'd take anything, as long as you were there.

"If you break her heart, i'll actually kill you," Niragi threatened. "Like, i won't hesitate at all."

"Oh, i don't doubt that at all," Chishiya admitted with an amused smile, which started to fade sooner than it got there. "And i would never do that intentionally."

"Do you love her?" Niragi asked, narrowing his eyes.

Chishiya was silent for a moment and looked into his hands, furrowing his brows.

"I do care about her. A lot," he admitted.

Had he gone as far as fallen in love? He didn't know. He hadn't loved a woman before, like truly loved with all his heart, so he wasn't sure what it felt like. Was it love? Surely not.

Niragi eyed him for a moment. It was awkward to talk about his feelings with Niragi. It felt surreal for having a conversation like this alone with him and not have him pointing a gun at Chishiya's face.

"Hm," was all Niragi mumbled. Chishiya couldn't tell what he was thinking by the look of his face, and he preferred to keep it that way.

♤♡♧◇

The plan was to lure the King towards the pharmacy and cause an explosion there. Aguni had joined in as well – of course you should have known he wouldn't die that easily.

Your heart was beating faster than ever before, you were completely terrified but you had to be brave to save yourself and your friends – to finally end these games and get back home.

You stayed in the shadows, walking slowly from corner to corner until it would be your turn to make your move on the King.

You had a gun in your hand as well, shooting towards the King but you missed. Eventually, you ran out of bullets, you hadn't had a lot to begin with. You quickly pulled one of your knives from your boot and threw it towards him, managing to pierce his shoulder instead of neck which you had originally aimed for, intending to break an artery. The damage of your knife on him was pathetic. He calmly took the knife off, threw it on the ground and looked like the wound didn't even sting at all, even though the blade was covered in blood.

When he was facing you, you tried to jump behind a corner to hide yourself for a second, but before that the King managed to shoot you as well, three times on your abdomen. You had the urge to fall on the ground but you managed to stay up. The King turned away from you, and now you gathered your last strength and threw your second, and the last, knife towards his neck – now managing to hit the side of his neck.

The King was about to shoot you again to end your life for good, but right then Aguni jumped in to attack him, making the King forget you momenturaly. You took this as a chance to escape and tried to get out of there as fast as possible. You had no weapons or energy to fight with anymore.

You weren't able to move very fast and soon collapsed on the ground, holding your bleeding stomach.

When Chishiya saw you crawling towards him, his eyes widened and panic took over him. He shouldn't have let you go to the fight. Of course you wouldn't survive the King – none of you would.

"Y/N," Chishiya breathed out. "Y/N!"

Chishiya wouldn't be able to carry you, not this time. He couldn't go and pick you up, he couldn't even get up himself.

You couldn't crawl any further, you didn't manage to reach Chishiya like you had planned. You stopped next to one of the cars, but it wasn't the one which Chishiya had been leaning on.

Chishiya saw blood on your shirt and hands, terror taking over his body. He stood up, slowly, legs feeling unsteady under him but he had to get to you. Chishiya held his stomach as he took slow and tired steps to you.

Chishiya sat next to you, heart beating fast. He was barely able to breathe when he lifted the hem of your shirt and saw your bare stomach. Three gunshots on your abdomen.

"I'm so tired, Shiya," you mumbled.

"It'll be alright," Chishiya assured you, but he didn't come off as convincing at all, how his voice was shaking and trembling. He took off his hoodie, trying to wrap it around your waist. Anything to slow the bleeding, but he knew it wouldn't help enough. Still, it must be better than nothing. Chishiya pressed on your stomach, making you wince.

"Ow, that hurts," you mumbled, making Chishiya to try to be more gentle.

You laid down on your back, your head now on Chishiya's lap.

"I don't feel so good," you mumbled, your eyelids feeling heavy.

"You're not closing your eyes right now," Chishiya commanded. "You'll stay with me, okay? It won't be long anymore."

You looked in Chishiya's eyes and gave him a small, a bit sad smile. There was going to be no medical treatment for you any time soon, you were bleeding out and it wouldn't take too long anymore to start to be on the edge of dying.

"Thank you Chishiya," you whispered. "The weeks i've spent with you have been wonderful and i'm so glad i met you."

Chishiya's eyes started to water. He didn't know the last time he had cried. Had he ever cried? He didn't remember. But losing you, having you die right in his arms, was absolutely breaking him.

"Y/N, don't talk to me like this is going to be our last moment together," Chishiya said, almost a threatening tone in his voice.

Chishiya pulled you up so he could hold you in his arms, you sitting between his legs and your head resting against his shoulder. He had his arm around your back and waist, holding you like a mom would hold her baby.

"Shiya, i'm bleeding out," you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek. "There's nothing you can do anymore."

"No, Y/N, we've come this far, you're not giving up on me when we're almost finished with the games and on our way home," Chishiya said and cupped your face, making you turn your face towards him. "We'll be okay. We'll get back home and we can finally spend time with each other without being afraid of death all the time. We'll do anything you want. I'll take you out, a real date just the two of us. I'll- I'll cook food for you. I'll make us sushi. I'll buy you flowers, if you want. I'll even take you dancing. I'll -"

He was talking so fast you had a hard time to interrupt him. "Chishiya," you mumbled and lifted your hand to cup his cheek, not realising your hand was covered in your own blood and you were leaving a print of blood on his skin. "Shut up."

"You can't leave me alone," Chishiya whispered. "You can't."

Not when i just got you. We've barely even started getting know each other.

"It's okay," you whispered.

"No, it's not," Chishiya gritted between his teeth.

"Shiya," you whispered, furrowing your brows and wiped a tear off his cheek. "Are you crying?"

Chishiya hadn't realised he had let couple of tears run down his cheeks.

"No," he mumbled. He never cried, he wouldn't cry now either, but still the tears were forcing themselves out of his eyes.

"Don't cry. I don't want to see you cry."

Eventually, the fireworks started, covering the entire dark sky all over the city. You looked above you to the fireworks, a smile on your face.

"It's nice to die during fireworks. I've always liked them," you said quietly.

"No. No, stop. Don't talk like that," Chishiya said seriously. "We'll get through this. We'll get back home."

Then, a loud announcement was repeated to you twice.

All surviving players will be presented by two choices.

Players can now all decide whether to accept permanent residency in this country or decline it.

"I want to go home," you said, a tear falling down your cheek. "I decline. Please, take me home."

"I'll take you home, i promise," Chishiya insisted and planted a kiss on the top of your head. "We'll both go home."

"I just want you to know that," you started. "I know we haven't known each other very long, but if there was a person meant for me, i think it would be you."

Chishiya wanted to tell you how much you meant to him. How much he had started to care about you, but the words were stuck in his throat.

"Y/N, i-"

But your eyes had already closed. Your body was limp against his.

"No. No, wake up," Chishiya mumbled under his breath, his eyes wide, then raising his voice. "I said wake up!"

He was shaking your body to get you to open your eyes, as if you were taking just a short nap. But you weren't asleep, he wouldn't be able to shake you awake anymore.

"Wake up," he whispered in disbelief, barely able to hear the words himself.

Chishiya held your head, trying to find your pulse on your neck but his hands were shaking so much he had hard times to find it. And he felt nothing. He had taken care of your injuries, able to patch you up, but now? He could do nothing. He felt absolutely useless.

The games were over. All of them. You had survived so many games but passed away right in the last second. Right when you would have only a few steps left to get back home. The door was right in front of you.

I love you. He never managed to say those simple words to you. He didn't even fully realise it until you were already gone. I love you.

"I love you," Chishiya mumbled against your forehead.

Chishiya held you close against his chest until the fireworks stopped.

♤♡♧◇

A/N: Before you yell at me — this isn't the last part.

Taglist:

@audiiix

@valexqpt

@moonchild323232

@lizxoxeth

@crazzzyyyy

@spencersoneball

@queenofviolenceandnerds

#chishiya imagine #chishiya alice in borderland #aib chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #alice in borderland x reader #aib imagine #alice in borderland #alice in borderland imagine #chishiya x reader

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softlypaintedseafoam · 3 days ago

Text

the summer moon was born from the waves to be loved pt 2

synopsis. you got pregnant and satoru has to put together the pieces five years later.

pairing. gojou satoru x f!reader (afab)

word count. 7k | masterlist

content warning. 18+ (smut with feelings), college au, friends to friends with benefits to co-parents to lovers (what a pipeline), mild angst with a happy ending, use of y/n

reblogs & interactions appreciated.

and finally, part 2 is here! if you'd like to read part 1, click here if you already haven't since you will need the context to build off this one. this series is very near and dear to my heart and it's nice to have it here on this blog as well. fun fact this originally had a co-parent only ending but after writing satoru's pov, i felt so bad i couldn't commit. sorry nanami, better luck next time

o. buoy

If Satoru was forced to use some sort of ocean-related terminology to describe you, he’d say you’re a buoy.

You were the marine biology major. (What was the difference between that and oceanography? Satoru had no idea. You explained it to him at least twice though). Because of that, Satoru heard his fair share of marine terminology from you.

Buoys were those floating things at sea, the ones from Finding Nemo that had all the seagulls on it. You said they were guiding posts, gave heads up for reefs or they could be warnings for hazardous zones.

To Satoru, you were like an anchorless buoy that ー no matter how far he sailed ー he could never reach.

i. halocline

You’ve never felt permanent; not to Satoru.

You sooner felt like one of those quickly formed friendships you thought would last forever only for it to dwindle out as fast as it started. Then that person was just a forgotten name in your contacts list until you’re scrolling down and going ‘Who the hell is this? Delete’ without a second thought.

It was strange.

An oxymoron of the highest degree.

How did someone who was such a constant in his life from the moment you set foot in it simultaneously feel as impermanent as foam on the waves? One minute you were there, the next you weren’t. Satoru wasn’t sure when the fear of you disappearing entirely crept in.

When those looks started appearing on your face.

All he knew was that it started long before he started sleeping with you and it started long before you left.

One moment you’re hanging out ー undoubtedly doing something stupid. Singing the wrong lyrics to a song on the radio, putting Suguru’s hair in pigtails, watching María la del Barrio with Utahime who took one Spanish class and made telenovelas her entire personality for a month ー then you’d grow quiet and this far away look would be in your eyes. Satoru never knew where you went in those moments, but it wasn’t there.

So he’d do something to anchor you back to land. It didn’t have to be much.

A poke to the cheek,

a tickle to your side,

calling out to you,

sometimes he’d even play with your fingers.

It didn’t matter what he did as long as you’d blink and grin and go “what’s up?” and everything would feel right in the world.

It never would feel right long enough though; the look always came back and the feeling would persist.

When you sang songs in the car.

(“I can do it fast or slow, it really doesn’t matter, though. ‘Cause I’m a pro, what you say? You wanna take me toe to toe? Uh no, dude, I think so,” you’d rap Kel’s verse flawlessly like you’d rehearsed it for hours. “My style is phat and Immature’s got my back on this funky trackー” you pointed at Satoru enthusiastically.

“You want fries with that?” Satoru would point back with way too much passion for a line that went way too hard for what he was actually saying. “Coo coo ca-choo whatcha gonna do?”

Shoko would roll her eyes but she’d still be smiling when Suguru softly brought in the chorus with rhythmic bumps of his head, “watch me do my thing, I like to do my thing, watch me do my thing, everybody sayー”

Your head continued to bump along but you stopped singing along and looked out the window. Satoru remembered he threw his arm around your shoulders loudly belting the rest of the lyrics until you laughed and joined back in.)

When you indulged Utahime’s telenovela personality change.

(“[First], quit zoning out. I’m bored.”

“Hey, unlike you, I’m actually paying attention.”

“Oh yeah, then what’s been going on?”

“Soraya Montenegro is gasping in Spanish right now.”

“Can you both shut u- OH MY GODー”

“IS NO ONE GONNA STOP THIS BITCH?”)

And at parties.

(Satoru always knew you were about to leave when you made that face. Things could start perfectly at the beginning of the night. You’d finally skulk out of your cave like you were Gollum from Lord of the Rings and wave him over. The next moment? You were in deep thought while your friends made joke after joke, rip after rip.

“Sorry gang, but my lips don’t touch anything but Don Equis and Asahi,” you’d say with an air of regality not suited for a party of college students. “Maybe Corona if there’s nothing else. I’m not drinking… whatever this is. So I’m gonna head out, there’s a 24 hour liquor store around here somewhere.”

“You coming back?” Satoru didn’t know why he asked, he already knew what your answer would be.

“Nah, I think I’m done for the night. I’ll catch you guys later though.”

“I’ll walk you back to your place then.”)

He doesn’t know why he looked at your lips that night at the park.

You were friends, he liked being your friend. That’s all there was to it. It had always annoyed him up until that point when Suguru and Shoko joked the two of you were more like a couple than anything else. That he chased after you like a lovesick puppy, the pathetic but funny kind. He wasn’t sure why it annoyed him so much.

Maybe it was because it felt like it reduced everything about his friendship with you into that shit take that the opposite sex couldn’t just be friends.

Maybe it was something else entirely. He doesn’t know.

You weren’t permanent.

Not while you sat beside him in a park at who knows when in the morning and not even when you reassured him his life would work out the way he wanted and you touched him like he was something precious to you.

“Be careful I don’t disappear for months, spirited away by the sea folk on my Children of the Sea shit. I’ll come back to shore occasionally, mysterious as the sea itself.” You already were as mysterious as the sea itself.

“Even if you got spirited away, I’d just go and bring you right back.” Satoru meant it. Even if, more than anything, it felt more like he was making that promise to reassure himself. It didn’t matter how far off to the sea you went as long as Satoru could bring you back to the shore. “You’ve doomed yourself.” More specifically you said that to him. Maybe he should have taken it more of a warning than a light-hearted nudge.

“You said it first, remember?” You did. He remembered it as clear as day. He’d stumbled onto an unstable boat and you were a buoy far off in the distance.

“There’s no ditching me now, not even at sea.” So stay. That’s all Satoru needed you to do.

The sprinklers that decided to join in on the moment must have been a sign that he was in the middle of a prophecy that was going to be fulfilled whether he wanted it to or not. That’s why he kissed you first in the doorway of your bathroom when you just came to ask if he wanted tea.

Buoys are supposed to have anchors, right?

Maybe he could be yours.

When Satoru woke up the day after the first time you slept together, he woke up alone.

It wasn’t until he reached out an arm lazily to your side of the bed and he patted the mattress several times that he realized no one was there. The bed had long since gone cold so you had to have been gone for a while. Yes, you called five minutes later from McDonald’s cheerily going “Yooo, Satoru, I’m at Mickey D’s, what do you want?” Still it cemented your impermanence and that was only the first of many times he woke up by himself.

You could be out the house or in; Satoru preferred when you were in. Sometimes you’d be in the kitchen humming some unknown tune, other times you’d be watching TV on the couch. Either way, he could drape himself over you with a tired ‘morning’ and hold you close.

(“What are you wa- is that the new episode of Love is Blind?”

“Um… I only just started it two minutes ago?”

“[First], what the hell!? While I was asleep?!”)

From then on when Satoru saw those far away looks, he’d kiss you since it was on the table now. Satoru put everything into those kisses and you’d kiss him back just as hard.

Don’t go anywhere. He’d thread one hand into your hair and the other would pull your waist closer to his. Satoru didn’t want or need anything else. Stay.

You kissed him like you would.

It’s crazy how easily you could just slip away from everything like a ghost that hadn’t been there at all. It was shockingly apparent that impromptu trip you took to the beach in the middle of the semester.

Everyone had been together in awe of the bioluminescent dots in the sea and it donned on him you hadn’t said anything in a while. You were gone.

He’d painted his panic in his usual bravadoー nonchalant and grinning, claiming he was gonna go bother you for a bit.

It was a relief when he found you.

It was dreadful when he found you.

Satoru couldn’t see your face clearly but he could tell your look was intent on the sea and how it shined with the glow of a billion bright lights. If there was a ghost ship calling you out to the depths, Satoru knew you’d leave in a heartbeat.

You slowly became more noticeably distant from your group of mutual friends after that trip. It didn’t start immediately, you’d acted the same as usual at first. You still sang songs in the car, Utahime had grown out of her novela phase in favor of all of you losing your shit at the editing of Indian serial dramas and in between those moments Satoru found himself in your bed again.

It was around that time you started kissing his forehead; when the kisses started, that’s when you started drifting away from his orbit. You said it was homework, your profs telepathically communicating to increase your workload.

You alright?

What kind of sadists are your professors if you’re this busy?

Just let me know if you need me to come over some kind of distraction. Sorry for coming over earlier unannounced, I shouldn’t have assumed. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.

“Do you think she thinks I’m being clingy?” Satoru mumbled as he stared at your text that you were fine just dying from homework. You definitely thought he’s being clingy. He’d always been a bit clingy with his friends. He was probably more overbearing than usual though.

“Yes,” Kenjaku replied without missing a beat. “You’re gonna get dumped if you keep this up.”

God what does Suguru see in this guy? He’s like a fucking parasite. “I wasn’t asking you,” Satoru glared. “And she isn’t my girlfriend.”

Suguru snorted, running his hands through his boyfriend’s hair, “play nice both of you,” he said lightly and Satoru rolled his eyes. “But if [First] is saying she’s fine, then just trust that she’s fine. She’ll come back around when her workload decreases.”

Satoru glared with a pout, “you’re worried too, don’t act like it’s just me.”

“I never said it was, it’s just that between the two of us I’m handling it better. I sent her a surprise uber eats delivery yesterday.” Asshole, that was a brilliant idea. Satoru wished he thought of it first. Instead he asked Shoko to check on you; maybe you’d be more receptive if it wasn’t him bothering you for the tenth text in a row.

Shoko went to check on you. Apparently you were fine and Satoru was worrying for nothing. She even said that you would come and hang out with them soon. Some people might say it’s a bit petty to celebrate the failures of others. In another universe, Satoru might even agree with them. But in this universe, Satoru was a hater first and foremost. So if he and his friends wanted to go out to eat to celebrate the fact Zenin Naoya was bitching about a failing grade on an essay, he and his friends were going to go out and eat to celebrate Zenin Naoya failing his essay.

Apparently, you were all haters.

It was also just nice seeing you again. If Satoru was more poetic, he’d probably add a bunch of other things to that statement. It was just nice to have you back.

“Karma is probably gonna come back to clap us in the ass for celebrating someone getting a bad grade,” you snickered.

“Sounds like a problem for future us,” Suguru grinned with a twinkle in his eyes.

“We go to school with the Japanese version of Ben Shapiro,” Satoru choked on his strawberry smoothie when Shoko said that. “I think we’re covered on karma.”

“Y’all are terrible people,” Satoru clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disbelief and shame.

“Hey, good neighbor, this dinner was your idea,” you nudged him with a dry tone and a smile.

Satoru nudged back with a grin of his own.

Dinner was fun, lots of drinks and jokes. It was a non-alcoholic beverage sort of night. Shoko said it was because they’d clearly been drinking too much if Satoru of all people had gotten better with holding his liquor. Her point was fair but rude nonetheless yet when Satoru turned to whine for you to come to his defense, the distant glaze was over your eyes and your smile was smaller than it had been the last time he looked at it.

“[First],” your motion to close your apartment door stopped and you hummed with a raised eyebrow. Satoru felt more dread than usual that night. Something about the air had been different. The face you made felt different than it normally did. It was always distant, you were always far away, but tonight was the worst it had ever been. “We’re good, right?”

You look at him like he grew an extra four eyes. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Satoru couldn’t meet your eyes as he shrugged wordlessly. You’d probably say he was being ridiculous and clingy if he mentioned anything but he couldn’t find anything else to say to make himself seem unbothered either.

You rolled your eyes with a grin before stretching your arms out wide. “You’re being overdramatic, you big baby. Come here, big guy,” Satoru pulled you in close, burying his nose in the corner of his neck. Despite welcoming your embrace, it did nothing to soothe Satoru’s anxieties.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Satoru asked without pulling away from you completely.

The way you smiled at him was warm but it still somehow felt unreadable. Satoru knew all of your smiles. Your happy ones,

the sad ones,

the one you made when Sora finally got into Smash.

The ones you made when you were mad that he was successfully charming his way out of you being mad at him.

Satoru didn’t know this one.

Despite that fact, Satoru let you cup his face in your hands and he let you stand on the tip of your toes to place a kiss on his forehead. “See you, Satoru.“

ii. undertow

Sleep didn’t come to Satoru after he laid in bed.

His head was too full as he kept running back through what you told him after he took you home.

You didn’t say you’d see him later.

You’re just being overdramatic, Satoru forced his eyes to close. You’re always overdramatic. It’s my best trait 30% of the time.

No one else said anything that night, it was just him who felt like this, right? It was always just him. If everyone else felt like something was off all night, someone would have mentioned it by now. With that, Satoru forced his eyes closed for all of five minutes before he decided to send, at the very least, a dumb meme. Something that’d make you laugh when you saw it and would make you reply “I’m wheezing” or “that’s so us!”

A quick stroll through his photos was all it took to find something suitable. He can’t remember exactly what it was, only that it was stupid.

It was stupid and didn’t go through to your phone.

A disconnect and reconnect dance to his wifi later and it still didn’t go through.

Satoru’s feet was on the pavement before not even a heartbeat after he calmly made sure his apartment was locked.

He just had to be sure you were okay. It was just him being an overdramatic, big baby. Your phone died or something and that’s why nothing was going through. Or maybe this was like the time you put your phone in airplane mode to narrowly avoid sending Shoko the wrong meme and then forgot to switch it back off.

You don’t answer the door when he knocks and he goes back and forth between knocking and trying to reach you on your other socials.

Twitter? Blocked.

He can’t find you anywhere else.

Instagram.

LINE.

Discord.

It’s like you were never there, gone from all the group chats and servers you once shared.

Satoru stayed outside of your apartment for the better part of an hour before one of your neighbors opened her door tired and annoyed.

“Dude, do you know what time it is?” Your neighbor asked groggily. She’s a nice girl, the reason rent was low enough in the area you could afford an apartment on your own. Apparently she wrecked shit in the neighborhood on the low to keep the rent down. Even better was the fact she was the landlord’s daughter. Not all heroes wore capes.

“Sorry,” Satoru knew he must look like a maniac with his messy hair and wide eyes. “have you seen [First]? I’m having a hard time reaching her.”

The neighbor gave him a funny look, “she moved out tonight,” she told him like that was the fifth time she told him that her favorite color was orange. “I thought it was weird you didn’t help with moving her stuff out a few days ago. She gave me the key to give it to my dad tomorrow. Didn’t she tell you she was leaving?”

iii. la niña

Satoru didn’t know which was worse sometimesー the fact Shoko kept the fact he had a daughter a secret for five years or how he found out.

It wasn’t like Shoko approached him one gloomy night when memories of the most prominent ghost in his life began bubbling to the surface. She didn’t grimly say that she needed to tell him something and he should sit down for it. She didn’t start off with apologies, saying she felt she had no choice or that if things had gone different she would have told him.

None of that happened.

Satoru found out by accident.

Accident.

All because Shoko didn’t hear him approach her when she was on her phone scrolling through instagram. She was so focused on whatever she was looking at, she didn’t even notice how Satoru quietly snickered to himself and snuck behind her to give her spook. He was just about to say something, ready for swears and ‘you’re so annoying, what are you 12?!’s when he took an instinctual glance at her phone and he saw you.

Thoughts of scaring Shoko went out the window in a matter of milliseconds. He didn’t even feel his body move when he snatched her phone out of her hand.

“Heyー” Shoko started with an offended hiss but when she looked over her shoulder, she looked like she saw an impending storm and her jaw clamped shut.

Satoru took in the photo like it was the last thing he’d ever see. You were dressed in a blue t-shirt and cream colored shorts, some aquarium’s logo stitched into your clothes. You were holding a kid, hugging her tightly and kissing her cheek while the girl was caught mid-giggle. And when Satoru looked at the little girl in your arms, it was his eyes that looked back.

“I- she told me not to say anything,” Shoko murmured, brown eyes looking anywhere but at him. Then the secrets came rolling out one after the other.

“If I didn’t see this picture,” Satoru’s grip tightened on Shoko’s phone to ground himself to the present. “Were you still going to keep this a secret from me?”

Her answer was silence.

iv. el niño

“I have to be honest,” from the corner of your eye, you see Satoru chasing after Itsuki, Nanako and Mimiko. Suguru is watching next to you on the bench, your respective care bags for accidents and playground injuries at the ready between you. “I thought I’d be more surprised you’re a dad now. But it kinda just makes sense. You always had ‘single mom’ energy in school.”

Brown eyes flash with recognition, “you had a dream about me adopting kids once, right?”

“No, I had a dream where you were off a perk and calling people without powers ‘monkeys’,” you correct your old friend petulantly. As if he should have remembered after all these years without contact. “You just happened to adopt children in the process of all that.”

Suguru snorts, “my apologies for getting the details wrong. So you had a dream that I adopted kids once and that I was off a perk.”

“Exactly, thank you.”

A silence somewhere between comfortable and awkward settles over the two of you, save for the squeals of little girls and Satoru’s manic laughter as the evil sorcerer king.

Suguru looks nice.

He’s still rocking the man bun but he’s opted to let some of his hair hang loose and he’s a couple hundred pounds down a shitty, parasitic boyfriend. Suguru and Kenjaku broke up halfway through the semester after you transferred. “Before you ask, yes, we had dinner to celebrate,” Suguru told you when you saw him for the first time in years a few days ago.

You’ve had your fair share of private updates on the lives of your old friends you didn’t keep in contact with. Shoko kept you up to date on everything. A surprising number of your old friends had gone into the field of educationー Utahime, Suguru and Satoru. You wonder how Satoru’s parents reacted to that information. You have yet to ask; it seemed like too much of a mood killer when Satoru happily recounted stories about his students a few weeks ago.

When Itsuki almost trips you make to stand but Satoru catches her before you can blink.

“He’s pretty good with her,” Suguru says like he’s a mind reader. “There was this kid we used to babysit, Riko, when we were younger. He said he hated it but he’s always been pretty good with kids.”

You can believe it. There’s plenty of things you remember Satoru complaining about despite his inherent talents in them. It makes you want to cry sometimes seeing how good he is with Itsuki. Your daughter is smart enough to play neutral when he asks but you’re pretty sure your daughter has a favorite parent. Adorable little traitor, you laugh softly to yourself. You’d think five years would give someone an edge.

Five years.

“Are you… mad?” You look at your old friend from the corner of your eye.

Suguru takes his time answering, mulling over unknown thoughts in his head. Playful as you remember Suguru being, he’s always been introspective. He thinks before he acts, lets things slowly come to a boil before turning off the stovetop. “I was more worried than mad to start,” he finally speaks. “It’s not everyday an entire group of people gets ghosted. I’m a little mad you didn’t open up though.”

Your smile is small and your eyebrows knit apologetically.

“But at the end of the day, this is nothing compared to what went down between Satoru and me in high school. So I guess I can forgive you.” You never did get the story about Satoru and Suguru’s mysterious high school turning point. The itch to know all the details is minor compared to the way your shoulders relax when Suguru shoots you a familiar smile. I missed you too. “Just don’t do anymore disappearing acts.” Smooth as they come, Suguru raises a closed fist just above your care bags.

Smile a bit more grand, you bump the side of your fist to his. “I can happily vouch that it won’t be happening again.”

“Good. It’s nice to have you back.”

“It’s nice being back.”

v. sea state

“Did you get an undercut?”

“Yeah, a while ago,” Satoru grins. “I look nice, right?”

“Please accept the compliment normally so your arrogance doesn’t rub off on our daughter,” you shake your head but a good-natured grin is plastered on your face. “Itsuki, make sure Daddy behaves. You’re in charge as the honorary aquarist.”

Itsuki’s eyes fill with delight at the duty bestowed upon her. “I will,” she promises, chest puffed with as much pride as a five year old can produce. It’s a rare day off in the middle of the week for Satoru. Normally he’s confined to his school during these hours, but thanks to some school holiday you scheduled in advance for him to take Itsuki around your aquarium. It isn’t the first time Itsuki’s been, you’d taken her there before she could even walk. It might as well be her first visit though from how she’s beaming. “Daddy, you have to be good so Mommy doesn’t get mad.”

“As you command, general,” Satoru salutes playfully, picking Itsuki up in his arms. “Now then, if you excuse us, this father-daughter duo is gonna enjoy the aquarium while you work.”

“Bup bup bup,” you tut before the man can take off. “At least let me get my goodbye kiss before you run off to have fun without me,” you peck Itsuki’s cheek once, twice before blowing a raspberry and she squeals. “Alright,” you place your hands on your hips. “You two go have fun. Tell Daddy all the names you gave the whale sharks, okay?”

You think that’s that until Itsuki innocently asks, “where’s Daddy’s kiss, Mommy?” You blink once. Maybe you misheard- “You’re supposed to give both of us goodbye kisses, aren’t you?” Apparently you haven’t.

“I think Daddy’s too old for goodbye kisses, Itsuki.”

Itsuki squints, unsatisfied with your answer, “but Grandma always kisses Granny and they’re ancient.”

Why do your parents have to have a long lasting and fulfilling love life?

You and Satoru share an awkward smile as you both wonder what either of you can do to get out of this situation. Kissing Satoru used to be as easy as breathing. He’s always been the more affectionate of the two of you and it rubbed off on you some time during your university days. But you’re not in university anymore and your relationship has most definitely changed since then.

Still with bated breath, you gesture for Satoru to bring his head low enough for you to kiss his forehead, “there. Now both of you go have fun.”

If you think you see Satoru’s expression dim, he’s all smiles the moment you blink. “Try not to be jealous when you see us feeding the stingrays, [First].” He’s gone before you can tease you’re the one of the employees that help with that.

Once a maelstrom, always a maelstrom.

You love your place of work, it always has a familiar noisy sort of peaceful bathed in the light of blue decorated in corals, pinks and purples. Aquariums have a special magic to them. You fell in love with the sea when you were young and never fell out. The magic somehow is renewed every time you clock in, even on the most trying days.

How can you not when you see the dozens of people that stop by with the same love?

How can you not when you see dozens of people that stop by and fall in love with it for the first time?

“Hi, Mommy!” You hear Itsuki call from a distance. You wonder how she can even see you when you look up and see she’s on Satoru’s shoulders. It’s so natural, the two of them together. She’s wearing his sunglasses, if you can really say that. They keep sliding off her face but she holds onto them resolutely and Satoru is smiling widely in front of the tank full of black tip reef sharks, whale sharks and dozens of other fish in between.

You don’t know how your heart can fill with even more affection than you thought possible but it does. “Hi, baby,” you wave back. “I love you!”

“I love you too!” I have to enjoy that before she gets old enough to start thinking she’s too cool to tell her mom I love you. You know Satoru should too when you see her lean over to plant her father an awkward kiss on his head. You can’t hear what she tells him but you can guess she must be saying she loves him. Even from his profile, you can tell Satoru is saying he loves her back from how adoringly he looks up at her.

You see Itsuki giggling and saying something else you can’t hear, looking down at her father in earnest.

Whatever it is she says, Satoru looks over at you with eyes that are wide and somehow reflect all of the blue from tank lights. Despite how it makes your heart twist, you give him another small wave. When he doesn’t wave back, you wonder what it is your daughter could have said that had him in such a stupor.

Whatever he says to Itsuki, his eyes stay on you while he says it.

vi. nearshore

“Do you still like the same brand of honey or no?” You call over your shoulder from the kitchen.

It’s unusually quiet in your apartment since Itsuki is at your parents’ house for the weekend. You only realized you’d forgotten to tell your co-parent when he showed up at your house with sweets in hand. “What Itsuki doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” you told him with a snicker when you invited him inside to eat them.

“Satoru?” You call out again.

No response.

You turn off the eye your kettle is on and look out into the living room. He’s right where you left him. “Hey,” you sit on the ottoman in front of him. He blinks in surprise when he sees your hand waving in front of face. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Satoru smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Let me rephrase that question,” you start anew. “What’s wrong? Come on now,” you grin crookedly. “You’ve always sucked at pretending to be okay in front of me.”

Satoru’s smile falters for a heartbeat, “yeah?”

“Yes, Mr. Bravado,” Satoru might have been an expert at fooling others, but you know him. He was the guy who never took notes but passed every test because he worked his ass off in the background. The type who’d act oblivious but you realize halfway through a meal that the reason he took you is because he noticed you’d been feeling down lately. It’s one of the things you love about him. “So come out with it, fess up.”

One, two, three seconds pass before Satoru finally cracks.

“I’m mad. More at myself than anything.” Before you can reply, Satoru opens his mouth again but it feels more like he’s talking to himself. “I shouldn’t be upset anymore, right? We made up.” Satoru runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. “We made up,” he says again. “I shouldn’t still be mad about anything. Things have been going great.”

Satoru finally falls silent and he looks tired. You hate you’re the reason for it. “It’s okay to still be mad about Itsuki. I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I… I’d take it back if I could. I know that doesn’t mean anything after five years but I mean it. Even if I was scared I should have told you. I just- I don’t know, it had gotten into me. I was thinking how you couldn’t commitー”

“You thought I was non-committal?” Satoru raises an eyebrow and he looks hurt by your revelation.

“Satoru, you have never been in a relationship with anyone throughout the time I’ve known you,” you rub your finger and thumb together nervously. Five years later is as good as any time to have a conversation you should have had long ago. “You were scared when I asked what our relationship was, remember?”

“I didn’t know what the right answer was,” Satoru argues with his hands raised. “I thought you were tired of our friends always talking about us being a couple.”

“You were relieved when I said that-” you stammer over your words thoughts going much faster than your mouth could. You remember the tormented days of unrequited affection quite clearly. If there was someone who avoided romantic relationships like the plague, it was Satoru. He was a flirt, relished in the attention he received for his well-known good looks. Regardless, he’d never committed to anyone. “You said fucking someone else was a non-issue! For all I knew you were sleeping with someone else, it wasn’t like we were-”

“It was a non-issue if it meant you weren’t going to take off and start avoiding me!” Satoru snaps like you’ve grown a second head. Maybe you did judging by how he looks at you incredulously. Your mouth closes, unsure what to say next and Satoru looks away with a scoff. “It’s the other way around,” he mutters so soft you almost didn’t catch it. “you were the non-committal one.”

“Excuse me?” It’s your turn to look at Satoru like his body has magically sprung additional body parts. When he doesn’t immediately say anything, you double down. “Satoru, you don’t get to say that and then turn around and not elaborate on it.”

“You know, the first day we met, Suguru told me that I acted like the sun shined out of your ass,” Satoru says much to your confusion. But he went on, lost in his memories, “it might as well have, I thought you were so cool. I wanted you in my life so bad from pretty much the moment you said I doomed myself. I didn’t care what happened next in my life as long as you were there for it.

“But you left me,” Satoru croaks with a smile, crystal blue eyes dark and empty. “You left me.” The way he says it breaks your heart. “I’m so gone for you. I’ve always been gone for you. I just didn’t want to see it. Somehow I always knew you’d leave.” He laughs, cold and humorless and completely lost. “And you did.

“You could be right there with me and then suddenly be so far away. It always felt like you would just up and leave one day. You and Utahime always talked about intuition and trusting it. I guess mine was saying from early on ‘this girl is gonna break your heart one day, don’t fall in love with her.’”

“I knew it when you got those far away looks in your eyes. I knew it when I woke up that first morning alone. I knew it when you didn’t say you’d see me later. And just like that you were gone on that ghost ship. You left and didn’t even tell me you were going. Do you know how much that fucking hurt? I wait outside for hours and your neighbor’s the one who tells me you’re gone. I may have purposely lied to myself about how I felt but I never slept with anyone else. I didn’t want anyone else. I was the one who kept reaching out, you never reached back.

Itsuki’s the second tier on the cake and the rest of the frosting. You’ve been gone on that ghost ship for five years and when I finally catch up, I still feel like I’m drowning.”

“… I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I didn’t know.”

“I know. That’s almost the worst part. Guess I didn’t wear my heart on my sleeve as much as you thought.”

“It was the week after our second year midterms,” you recall when you were six years younger and the biggest problem you had in life was a professor was out to get you. Midterms had finally passed and you were on a victorious emotional high after finishing your last exam. At least until some asshole who should have covered their mouth coughed and you were coughing by the end of the day. “I got a cold and just so I could breathe better when I slept, you let me lay on you on the couch the whole time even though you ended up getting sick afterwards.”

You’d felt so bad, coughing all the while but Satoru hadn’t let you budge an inch, proudly claiming ‘I don’t get sick, I’m built different so cough away.’ When he got sick days later, he said over coughs, ‘This has nothing to do with when you were sick. This is from Suguru.’ “That was when I realized that I’d been stupidly in love with you ever since I met you.”

Gojou Satoru has been called many things throughout your years of knowing him. But for you, the fall child has always been easy to love. He was made for it. “You were a pain in the ass but you were my pain in the ass. I never wanted it any other way.”

“Stop being mean to me,” Satoru leans forward to rest his head on your shoulder just as you wrap your arms around his back. “Don’t you know who you’re being mean to when you’re being an ass?”

You laugh weakly, “the guy I’m still gone for?” When you hear a sniffle in the corner of your neck, you tighten your grip.

“Don’t go away this time,” Satoru hugs back.

vii. ocean deep, seafoam soft

Satoru finds himself in your bed again for the first time in years.

“I confess my love to you and you try to kill me, I’m hurt.”

“Oh don’t be such a baby, I didn’t even know it was there,” you chuckle fondly after the two of you stumble into your bed after nearly tripping on a stray toy on your floor. Satoru loves that laugh. He loves how you look up at him with all the adoration in the world. “Remember that time we forgot that textbook was on your bed?”

“Please don’t remind me, my back hurts just remembering it,” Satoru whines but laughter escapes him despite his apparent trauma. It wasn’t one of your best moments during your shared years of sexual escapades in college. You pull him down kiss his lips tenderly and he practically moans, relishing the feeling. No more forehead kisses, he wants to tell you. You did that a lot before you left.

“I love you,” Satoru whispers in awe at the words falling out of his own mouth. In awe at the fact you’re even there with him at that moment. “I love you.”

Your hands cup his face like he’s something precious and you thumbs away the tears pooling in his eyes despite the ones in your own, “I love you too.”

Satoru’s had sex with you more times than he can count.

He memorized everything, refused to forget a single detail. It feels like the first time all over again.

The way one set of your fingernails dig into his back while he envelopes your other hand with one of his own. How your fingers intertwined tightly. How amazing you feel squeezing around him tightly. The speed of your pulse as he peppers your throat with kisses and soft nips. The ache between his legs as he rolls his hips into you gently yet persistently, chasing his high but wanting it to last long beyond the confines of this singular moment.

It’s not just this one moment anymore though. “[First],” Satoru squeezes your hand tighter. “[First].”

I love you.

Don’t leave me this time, Satoru gasps like a man starved for air before kissing you again desperately. Stay.

(When Satoru wakes up the next morning to you in his arms and playing with his hair at the base of his neck, he feels like could cry. He nestles into your chest with a tired grin, “morning.”)

viii. anchor

Gojou Itsuki, that’s the name staring back at him.

Satoru loves when it’s his birthday. Until Itsuki was born it was arguably the best day in the universe. The importance of birthdays tends to titter on the rope of priorities, but it’s the one day of the year when the people important to him would pop up to say ‘hi’. Even people from the past. An old teacher he used to drive crazy but always said he thought Satoru had a lot of potential.

His mom still sent him a birthday text even if most of their exchanges are dry the rest of the year.

Even his students will tip in to get him a card and some sort of celebratory gift on December 7th.

December 7th lost a bit of its shine when you exited from his life. With you and Itsuki both in it, it shines tenfold.

It’s just the light is too blinding when Satoru takes out his last present of a plain envelope and he sees Gojou Itsuki written in bold and clear text.

Gojou Itsuki

Father: Gojou Satoru

v. sea state private ver.

"Daddy, do you love Mommy too?”

“Yeah. Daddy loves Mommy.”

#romance dawn ー 🌅#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojou x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x black!reader #jjk x black!reader

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