#the angst of the situation would be sooo good

[sloasis]

having s9 open similar to 8x09 buck and eddie wise would be so good, we’re set up w buck either having a new place or attempting to still find one and we learn the reason for rushing out of eddies and feeling like he was just subletting from his pov was that eddie stood from chimney saying he should after all the attempts he made and ofc it’s the opener so tension between them is spread out and their typical miscommunication except this time eddie is the one to break it and be like what is going on and there comes the freddie fake man fight parallel and eddie tells buck that it’s not that at all and buck spiral comes to an ending? and this can lead into confession or something obvious pushed for the GA to be like ok this is going there [call backs to the 7x04 i can get pretty jealous, your not the only one who can move, he’s just a renter, even the picking between you and my son]

Season 9 really has potential .. the angst , the tension , the miscommunication that was really fleshed out in season 8 was so good not to continue that .. hopefully they don't forget it all lmao . But I do have hopes . There's SO much they can do here to really tie it all together and leading to a confession from either one of them atp and them becoming canon !! Buck not finding a place in time , Eddie saying just stay , them working out the roommate situation , sharing a bed because they're tired after a shift .. Buck staying with Chris on days Eddie is working , Eddie waiting up for him after one of his shifts ... I want roommate era sooo badly 😭 or Buck does move out , Eddie's like there's literally no rush , Buck being like I don't wanna get in the way , they have tension because of this , Buck thinking he's a nuisance now that Eddie and Chris are back and they don't need him anymore , Eddie always needing Buck no matter what or even him wanting Buck to have been the one to tell him to stay ... yay more miscommunication ! And it all finally breaks and Eddie just pushes into Buck and kisses him so hard that Buck's heart beats out of his chest like a cartoon and they get TOGETHER and Chris is so done with them , he's been waiting for this as long as they have lol

[zwoftt]

nah because what if the matron of ravens shows dorian a vision of cyrus so they can talk to each other one last time WHAT THEN. WHAT THEN??

what if dorian yells at the matron for not helping the crown keepers at their lowest point, especially when one of them was greatly vowed to her, how she just stood there and watched as they all crumbled before this ‘merciless goddess’ sister none of them(the gods) like. what then. what if dorian finally releases some of that anger, the anger he is afraid of- the anger that has been boiling up inside of him since that day his brother was murdered and all he could do was walk the other way. OH MY GOD.

[cinnamongrl2006]

♱ Knight!Simon Riley x Princess!Reader (part 2) ♱ part 1 | part 2 | part 3

a/n: I'm so, so happy you guys liked part one! I tried my best to do it justice! Thank you all for the kind messages :) Also, should I do knight Jason Todd?? or, or knight John Price? I feel like I should mention I have not played modern warfare in sooo long, like since my ps3 broke (two-ish years ago!!). Ugh I'm so in love with knight Simon Riley!!

contents: a ton of fluff, lil bit of angst (I refuse to make my characters suffer too much, they deserve the world!!), allusion to sex but nothing specific or graphic.

For a couple months your illicit affairs with Simon became more frequent, your love for each other already confessed, feelings running wild like horses.

You'd gotten used to his touch, his fingertips on your cheeks, arms, thighs; his calloused hands so gentle with your soft skin, his touch almost reverent. His lips kissing every freckle and mark on your skin, slowly, as if to memorize them.

♱ Knight!Simon Riley whose heart broke the moment you broke the news to him: you'd been engaged to a prince from a foreign land, he'd come to the castle soon, live with you before the wedding eventually happened. You stood in the yard, under the weeping willow, in your place, when you told him. His mask was off, guard down, rough hands under the fabric of your dress. Your eyebrows knit with worry, tears brimming your eyes as you spoke.

You told him how you loved him and no other, his jaw tight, gaze cold with jealousy, envy of the lucky prince who would not know how to treat you right.

"I promise, Si. I'd marry you in a heartbeat, you know that!" You sobbed into his shirt, tears staining the fabric.

"I know, sweetheart, but we can't." You could hear the pain in his voice.

It had taken him so long to feel such a connection with anyone, and now that he'd found the one he couldn't keep her.

Your daily rendezvous became far more passionate and longer, you'd miss dinner, tell your mother Ghost took you riding— not entirely a lie— that was why your hair was tousled, skirt and tights askew and cheeks flushed red. Your mother just smiled and waved you away, clueless and careless.

You were aware that living in a castle, being next in line to rule, not having to lift a finger ever sounded like a good thing, but God, how you loathed the court. You'd confided in Simon once, told him that you felt out of place, like the black sheep. That you'd love to have an actual family, one that eats meals together, with people that talk to each other, love each other. He dreamt of providing that for you.

The harshness of your situation weighed heavy on Simon's shoulders, you could see it in the way his eyes barely held your gaze anymore, moving to look at the trees, a painting on a wall, the ground. You could feel it in the way he touched you, like he knew he had to let you go, but couldn't: his fingers holding onto your flesh roughly.

♱ Knight!Simon Riley who was surprised (pleasantly so) when a couple weeks later you told him you'd run away with him.

"I've got it all planned out, horses food, an alibi...I swear, we can do it. We have to, before the prince gets here and I get no chance to."

"Honey—" he breathed.

"I mean it, I told the stable boy and a couple of the guards. I had to bribe them, something about sworn loyalty for my father— anyway, we can leave tonight, it's all ready."

Simon would walk through fire just to see your eyes again, he'd jump off a cliff if it meant he'd see you smile; so that night he meets you by the stables, a cloth bag with some of his belongings in it—clothes, weapons, a wad of cash— slung over his shoulder.

You stand by your horse, your dress tied up above your knees for easy mobility, hair down. There's a fire in your eyes he doesn't think he's ever seen before, and it makes the blood in his body rush south, heat pool in his stomach. Your own bag is slung over your shoulder, your foot taps against the floor with urgency.

"Ready?" You mutter, keeping your volume low.

He walked over to you, nodded curtly before he wrapped his arms around you.

"If we do this, there's no turning back." You warned him.

"I've got nothing here, no family, no past. You should be the one thinking about what they're loosing, my love."

"I can't do that. We have to go."

♱ Knight!Simon Riley who feels a sense of pride at how much you trust him, at how you left it all behind— the crown, the court, the comfort, your family, although you'd said time and time again you'd leave them if you could.

♱ Knight!Simon Riley who gets you to a cabin in the woods that belonged to a friend of his, a lumberjack, who no longer used it. He laid you down on the bed, pushed the covers over your body and kissed your forehead before he unpacked your bags and lit a fire on the fireplace. Once he saw fit, he laid down beside you, his arms around your body, his lips pressed to your skin.

He knew the worries would come in the morning, the fear of getting caught, the shame, the tears; and then the relief, that of finally being able to be together and love loudly.

────୨ৎ────

@foxintheferns this is for u my dear!!! and for the anons that asked me to please write a part two lol

Requests are open!!

[stsgooo]

Look at Him.

✩࿐ summary: your attempts at reentering the dating scene is foiled by your ex-husband.

warning(s): past relationship, clingy!gojo, ex-husband!gojo, co-parenting situation, crack fic. wc; 1.6k

pairing(s): gojo satoru x fem!reader

a/n: this is purely just a goof fic because i've put nothing but angst out there so far sooo have a laugh. hope yall enjoy :3

“So, what do you do for a living?”

"A teacher."

"Oh, wow! What grade, subject?"

"Uh, highschoolers and the subject kinda varies on the day."

"Like a substitute teacher?"

"Um....sure, yeah! Substitute teacher."

"That's awesome. Mad respect, kids can be demons."

You were quickly discovering that the dating field had changed in the five years that you had been married. An endless back and forth about what someone did, what's their favorite color, what's their hobbies. Boring questions that you would ask your students on the first day was used in over the table date conversation. Until, until, they got to that question they so desperately wanted to ask.

Would you want to take this back to my—

There was a vibration against your thigh as your date started to go onto a monologue about how much he disliked kids. In all honesty, you couldn't really remember his name. The introductions had been awkward and a little nerve wracking— you were almost sure he had no idea who you were either.

You tugged your phone out of your pocket and resisted the audible sigh that threatened to leave you when you saw the notification.

Satoru please tell me why my beautiful, radiant, amazing, intelligent daughter just said her mommy is on a date. feeling sick to my stomach, don't tell me this is true.

You rolled your eyes. Your ex-husband had always been so overdramatic. His main focus was always on the bit that could come from a situation. However, this was a quality you do used to admire about him. His ability to make any situation seem like it was a funny happenstance that you'd never encounter again.

Now, it was nothing more than a nuisance.

Satoru oh my god, you left me on read. it's true. it's true. i hope you know i just threw up. i threw up everywhere. i might die. at least, tell me he's ugly. please god let him to be ugly.

A sigh, you typed out the quickest message you could without your date asking what's wrong.

You I hope you're not ignoring said daughter to ask me about some date. I'll be home later, please refrain from texting me.

You were about to set your phone down when another text came through. This one appeared to more distraught than the last.

Satoru o h your tone. it's over. it's really over. i might just kill myself this is the worst night of my life. y/n, i'm genuinely feeling sick. please, is he ugly? he must be boring because you're texting back.

You were almost inclined to remind Satoru you both had been divorced for a year already. That this was bound to happen and you two had, in fact, spoken about it months into the divorce. You had played with some 'what if's and there was a mutual agreement that the other wouldn't get jealous and be dramatic about the other getting in a relationship whenever the time comes. It was a surprisingly adult conversation.

You should've known better when Satoru proudly proclaimed he didn't care who you got involved with.

You Satoru, we talked about this. We're adults and we're divorced. Please bother someone else, like Suguru.

Satoru i don't wanna talk to suguru. i wanna talk to youuu (;﹏;) i can't believe you've done this. ten years. ten years of loyalty. im sick to my stomach.

You You asked for the divorce.

"Is everything okay?"

You eyes snapped up from your phone and towards your date. He had the good grace to be wearing a relatively concerned expression, eyeing you wearily.

You quickly tucked your phone back into your pocket, ignoring the insistent vibrations it gave to smile apologetically. "I'm sorry, my daughter had an accident and I had to, you know, send a quick text to her babysitter." It was easier to explain away a daughter than it was a clingy ex-husband who was well in his dissent into insanity. Really, you were doing this guy a favor keeping him in the dark.

However, his face still paled and he straightened. "You have a kidI'm so, so sorry. I just went on a two minute rant about how much kids are equivalent to demons." He seemed to spiral as he pressed his hands against his face, uttering curses to himself. "I get so nervous with these dates. I truly meant nothing by it."

You smiled in amusement, "It's no problem, really. I'm not exactly disagreeing." He peeked from between his fingers and blinked at you dumbly. "Just because I'm a parent doesn't mean I don't agree. I mean, my kid can be a bit much sometimes. I love her, but she's a lot like her dad in that way."

It always made your chest blossom. The way Saori was a carbon copy of Satoru. From the rambunctious personality, to the piercing blue eyes, and white hair. Your genes hadn't won in the battle, but you were almost grateful. Satoru tried to tell you that she had your smile and your wit, but you weren't entirely convinced. She was Satoru and Satoru was her.

You were extremely lucky that he was a good dad.

"Oh? Do you mind me asking if her dad's still around?" His tone was indication enough: a daughter and an ex of some kind was pushing it for him.

You tensed up, feeling deep regret already. "Uh, yeah." His eyes shifted away and you reached forward, taking his hand. "But, he's not, like, crazy or anything! He's just a good dad."

Your date chuckled nervously. "I-I just don't want to get involved in some, um, some family dynamic."

You thought it was a little presumptuous of him to think this would go that far, or he'd get in the way. But you were too focused on defusing the situation.

"Oh, no, it's not like that! We've got a healthy balance, y'know? He does his piece, I do mine— that's it!"

He scrunched his face. "So... an open relationship?"

"No!" You press your hands against your face with a huff. "No, we're not together anymore. We just co-parent."

He opened his mouth to further question you when your phone vibrated very audibly. His eyebrows raising. "Your daughter?"

You sighed. "Please give me one moment."

With jerky movements, you pull your phone from your pocket. The assortment of messages that came where spread over the ten minutes you decided to ignore him.

Satoru okay, you've got me there. but my big heart is breaking. i hope he's ugly and he smells. okay, i spoke with suguru and he said i'm an idiot who should apologize. in my defense, i'm a little itty bitty drunk. and no, saori is not awake. papa put her to bed before bringing out the whiskey. im so sorry my beautiful deity. that not ugly, not smelly man is so lucky to be in your presence and i hope you have a good date. also i hope he gets hit my a car. (＾▽＾)

You I'm going to kill you with my bare hands. Genuinely, count your days, Gojo Satoru.

Satoru hot, hot, hot!!! (●´□`)♡ did he actually get hit by a car?

You Is there something you want?

Satoru him dead. and you home :((((

You You don't want me home. I swear to god, if you're on my couch, drinking when I get home, I will ruin your life.

Satoru promise??? ╰(✿´⌣`✿)╯♡ but, actually, i wanted to ask your opinion on something

You For real?

Satoru for realsies. [Image Attachment]

Completely blinded by your irritation, you don't even hesitate to open the picture as it loads. Although you regret it the moment it does.

It's a picture of Satoru. He's at what seems to be the beach (must've been the fun activity him and Saori were going to join Suguru for), his sunglasses were on the top of his head, and he was grinning at the picture. One hand was resting against his pectoral and the veins in his hand was prominent. An obvious attempt at being charming and flirtatious. It was working too.

If it weren't for the fact that you knew him and were his ex, you might've just swooned.

"Oh, my god, is that him?" Your date was staring at your phone with wide eyes. His face even more pale than before. He started to shake his head as he stood, snatching his jacket from the back of his chair. "No way. I am not getting involved! I'm sorry, you're a nice woman, but I know when I'm not winning. And I'm definitely not winning against that."

Your eyes widened considerably, "What? No! Please don't leave. He's an idiot, I swear there's nothing—"

"He is... a hunk. I am not. In no shape or form am I at all comparable to that. Look—" He reached forward, grabbing your phone and holding the picture up to be beside his face. "Look at the difference! Model who has won Japan's hottest man at least eight times before he's 30 to me— Look at him!"

"It's not even like that!" You snatched your phone back and stared at him in frustration. "He's my ex, I do not want him!"

He waved his hands in front of your face. "I know how this will go. You think you like me and then your super hot and super sexy ex-whatever makes you realize the familiarity is good. Then I get dumped." He straightened, latching his hands onto the lapels of his jacket. "I just realized I am a side character. In my own life. Goddammit."

He barely glanced at you as he paid for the dinner, then left as quickly as he could. Still, you didn't even know his name.

Satoru oooo taking you awhile to respondddd still in love with me? (人◕ω◕)

[moongirlrhea]

carry me slowly, my sunlight (all these colors fade for you only)

azriel and his best friend - chapter II

series masterlist

azriel x reader

word count: 4.5k

warnings: mentions of bad family dynamics and childhood trauma. angst + comfort

i have no idea how to conduct a summary but this is a star fall fic! as mentioned in the drabble earlier

enjoy and, as always, make sure to give me feedback and let me know if you want a continuation of this!

a/n: sooo this is coming out so much later than i intended for it to but school is killing me currently, so sorry for the wait! also the title is a lyric from hozier’s sunlight :)

Three hours before Rhysand’s starfall party was scheduled to begin, she was sitting in the vanity in her room, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She was glad to be here, she really was. And she hadn’t done anything bad, she was well aware. But still she couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in her gut. The guilt. Azriel had spent the last few days trying to make that feeling go away - but it stuck like dirt and grime on her skin.

Maybe it was the upcoming anniversary that made her go into survival mode at the mere thought of her blood relatives.

Or maybe it was the letters they kept sending.

Either way, nothing seemed to be able to make the bad memories go away. She tried to solve it all like an equation - look at the situation from start to finish, list out all the reasons why she was not some villain in her family’s story - but acting like she was guilty only cemented her feelings more.

Tonight is supposed to be good, she reminded herself. Don’t ruin this. Starfall was the most important holiday of the year, for her family - in the new definition, the one that didn’t make her want to puke her guts out - for Azriel, for her best friend, and for herself. Or so it used to be. Before Amarantha, before the war, before everything got so complicated. Don’t ruin this. Then why did the holiday make her want to lock herself inside her closet and sit in the dark until the end of time? They finally got peace in Prythian, after everything. Don’t ruin this.

She sighed and started combing through her hair. Maybe the presence of her family, the real one, would make it easier tonight. That was what starfall was for anyway, right? Holding the people who loved you, knew you, and vice versa, close. Shaking her head, she decided she would focus on her friends tonight and everything would be alright.

The hair was haphazardly brushed through as, alas, unwanted thoughts still kept recurring like waves crashing over her mind. Clean golden-brown curls cascaded down her back and shoulders and her newly made dress was laid out on her bed. She tried to win that fight with her mind, but a reprieve arrived soon in the form of a brown-eyed female in a blood colored gown.

“Please tell me you didn’t do your makeup yet, you promised I could help!” Mor was almost shouting as she came tumbling into her room. She looked her up and down and exhaled.

“Oh, good. You’re not even dressed”

“Don’t we still have like three hours?”

“Well, that isn’t very much time, really. Show me that dress you made” the words were thrown over her shoulder as Mor was looking through the makeup drawers, evaluating products and pulling some out, some away.

“Here it is”

“Oh! You really outdid yourself this year, babe,” Mor’s chocolate eyes and smile were shining as she looked the dress up and down, having turned away from the vanity. “Put it on and let’s get started on your makeup”

By the time she was laced up and out of her bathroom, Morrigan had laid out just about every single one of her makeup and hair products on the desk of her vanity. Soon her cheeks and lips were rosy, eyelashes long and darkened with kohl, and her friend was standing behind her brushing out her hair.

“Please don’t tell me you’re making me do the same hairstyle you wear everyday” the joke was light in the evening air, and she let out a soft laugh, meeting her friend’s eyes in the mirror

“I did actually think we could try something different”

“I’m all ears”

“Maybe just regular waves? I think a whole intricate hairstyle will be too much with the dress?” Morrigan hummed at that, parting her hair down the middle. Then after a beat of silence

“Tonight will be fun, right?” the blonde’s eyebrow quirked up.

“Why wouldn’t it be? It’s starfall” another beat of silence, she sent her friend a tight smile and looked down

“Yeah…”

“Is everything alright? Anxious to see a certain spymaster, maybe?” her head snapped up, green eyes wide

“What?”

“Oh, come on,” Mor laughed and met her reflection in the mirror, mischief dancing in her eyes “Everyone sees the eyes you two make at each other. And this has been going on for decades! Free me from the torment, please” her cheeks were getting redder by the second

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she mumbled, averting her eyes

“Hey, head straight forward, now.” Mor’s fingers moved her head back in place “It’s cute how shy you get about this”

“Mother’s sake, stop now, please” she watched in a new found horror as her friend threw her head back laughing, musing

“Fine, fine. But seriously, have you never thought about this?”

Fuck’s sake. Of course she had. How could she have not? But he was her best friend. So, so good to her that sometimes she felt like her entire heart might burst. Like something in her ribs will pull so hard, she will snap and just stop breathing altogether. Because he changed her whole perspective on life, on the world.

That night he found her aimlessly wandering through the night court’s forest after travelling for days on end on a ship between the continent and Prythian. Tired and malnourished, both physically and emotionally, she quickly got lost after leaving the port.

Things could have ended badly, especially considering her lack of plan and any survival skills whatsoever - where was she supposed to get any after growing up dressed in tight dresses, locked inside a pretty manor? Raised to be a wife and mother under the cold, scrutinizing eyes of her parents and the town.

But then Azriel found her, in so many ways.

She took his hand, and still to this day felt as though she never let go of it - and hoped she never would.

“Gods, fine if you’re just gonna space out on me like that, I’ll drop it” Mor’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts

“Sorry?” but Mor was snorting, looking at her with something in her eyes that she couldn’t quite place. And then she was shaking her head.

“Hair is all done. Do you like it?” she met her own eyes in the reflection, and she really did look pretty tonight.

The curls of her hair were framing her face, the rest falling down her shoulders and back. Her eyes trailed down and followed the curve of her neck down to where a dainty golden chain with a small pendant was resting a little north of the swell of her breasts.

She stood from her seat to make sure everything was sitting right on her, and sighed, about to voice the thoughts she was torturing herself with before Mor’s appearance.

But then her friend sat on the bed, hands smoothing through the pink duvet cover and resting behind her to support her back. She snapped her fingers before grinning, and out of thin air appeared a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“I thought we could start the party a little early.”

And maybe she was right earlier - tonight would be a fun night with her friends, and she didn’t have to think about anything bad.

Rhysand’s party was well started by the time the two females made it to the main hall. The sea of bodies seemed never ending, the amount of people the high lord and lady invited was astounding - as always. But quickly she noticed two tips of Illyrian wings peaking out above the crowd, near the corner of the room. She looked around to find Morrigan already gone, and started to push through the crowd.

Azriel was leaning against the wall, two drinks already in hand. Cloaked in shadow, dressed in all black and already smiling softly once their eyes met, Azriel seemed to have already known she was coming.

She stood a few paces in front of him, anxiously smoothing down her hair and softly panting from the trudge through the room, already overwhelmed by the heat of the overcrowded hall. But before she could say anything, Azriel was handing her her drink and putting an arm around her shoulder in order to lead her out of the hall and into one of the balconies.

Velaris was always breathtaking at night, but especially this one. Even before the stars started to fall, the holiday made the sky look enchanting, somehow. The pair leaned against the railing, and her eyes were immediately glued to the city.

“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is” she turned her head in his direction, only to find him already looking at her.

His expression was so, so soft. Soft smiles and golden eyes full of stars staring straight into hers, a wing curled around her and shadows dancing in the air. She felt such warmth in her heart, almost as if it were some external feeling, that even the cold of the winter mountain air would not chill her skin. Her best friend brought his drink to his lips to take a sip, her eyes following the movement.

“Hi” she interrupted the bit of silence that ensued

“Hi” amusement or adoration swam in Azriel’s eyes. No, why would it be adoration? Amusement. For sure. Yes.

“Are you alright?”

“Y-yes, I’m alright. Why would I not be?” her eyes had widened at his question, and for a moment, the thought of telling Azriel everything appeared in her mind- Don’t ruin this.

Why would she go on about all of this now and make him comfort her on Azriel’s favorite holiday of the year, of all nights? As if he hadn’t been wasting half his time lately trying to ease her mind about this already. And even though she knew Azriel would never outright judge her and be annoyed with her, there was some deep-buried shame within her that was scared of that sort of ridicule. She brushed it off as not wanting to worry him-

“Angel?”

“Yes? Sorry, Az, I spaced” Get it together

Her best friend just sighed, his eyes so, so soft and leaned down to brush a strand of her hair behind her pointed ear.

“You’re a great person.” he said, then kissed her forehead “And everyone is glad to have you here”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Az” the scoff she let out at the beginning of the sentence was softened by the look in the shadowsinger’s hazel eyes. As if he knew something she didn’t.

“There you two are! Are you enjoying the night?” Rhysand’s booming voice came from the entrance to the balcony. He neared them, drink in hand and Feyre on his arm, smiling lightly at them.

“It is one of your starfall parties, Rhys. Of course we are.” she teased and Feyre laughed a little, long silver gown gleaming in the moonlight.

“Have you two only just arrived? I saw Mor and Cass are already a few drinks in” the High Lady said, and her ears perked up at that.

“That’s my call, then” she mused starting to walk away from the group “I’ll go find them”

Rhysand’s laughter followed her, and she looked over her shoulder to see the amusement shining in his purple eyes. Azriel was suddenly in her line of sight, a shadow flying down the silk of his black shirt and over to twine itself around her wrist.

“Be careful”

“Sure, grandpa” she teased, walking away “Come take a shot with me later”

This is good, she thought, passing between a sea of bodies. She’d have a few drinks and those vicious thoughts would be well warded away.

Truth be told, at this point the anxiety clinging to her mind made her forget what exactly she was even stressing about in the first place. But if she were to stop and unpack all that - she visibly cringed - well, that was a rabbit hole she was not interested in visiting.

Besides, Mor and Cass appeared before her eyes, pouring drinks at the self-serve bar and she raised her hand to wave to them.

“Make one for me, too, Cass!”

A few hours and drinks later she was standing with a group of fae, the thoughts of her old family now reduced to a buzz somewhere in the back of her mind. Starfall was still a few hours away and Cassian was telling some story that she couldn’t really focus on. The volume at which he spoke almost made the room vibrate, his hands were high in gesticulation and his half tied up hair swooshing around his shoulders. She felt her lips turn up into a smile at the inner circle’s laughter.

“I swear to the Mother-” someone was saying something, commenting on the tale Cassian was spinning but all of the voices in the room seemed to dull to a distant ringing. In her hands appeared a folded piece of paper. She knew who it was from before she opened the letter.

Dearest daughter,

It is with utmost urgency that we write this letter to you. You have been the cause of enough embarrassment for our family, and even though your mother and I have prayed that you would soon come to your senses and put an end to the petulance you have been subjecting us to for the last decades, we have finally realized you would not. You can no longer excuse yourself with Prythian’s political situation - the lady that you were supposed to grow into never should interest herself in such matters in the first place. You have caused myself and your poor mother enough embarrassment and worry.

With your behaviour you have forced me to take matters into my own hands as it is now clear that you have no regard for the family that you left, and the consequences we would face for your own act of childish defiance. I have arranged a marriage for you. It is not a proposal, nor a suggestion. The male your mother and I have chosen is of fine breeding and heritage, but you shall find out his name once you come to meet him personally.

You are expected at the estate in two months time, considering the lengthy travel. However, for fear of a repeating of your previous behaviour, we have decided it is wise to inform you now - I will come and collect you personally if you do not obey, daughter. Allow me say this once and for all: so far you have proven to be very little but a disappointment, even though you used to have so much potential. Do you understand the pain that you continue to cause all of us by attempting to escape the role we poured all of our time, devotion and money into?

I hope this message leads to the disillusionment of the modern ways that you have learned at the night court - you are a female and you have an established place in our society. Your games will lead to very little but a loss of your virtue and any prospects a young, promising lady like yourself has within our kingdom

The letter kept going, but all she could imagine was the worn edges of the paper sharpening and cutting into her skin like blades. She felt as though the simmering hot guilt would burn through her gut.

A disappointment. A runaway. A marriage?

If they thought that would be enough to send her rushing back, they were sorely mistaken.

But then why could she feel her palms sweating and her vision tunneling until it was just that rotten letter she could see? Disappointment. Burden.

She had a duty, something she was born and raised to fulfill, and she disregarded it just like that. She had dreams and aspirations and she was more than a breeding mare, she knew that, but suddenly a vision of a life married to a male whose name she learned minutes before walking the altar and being nothing more but the body birthing his heirs flashed before her eyes.

Suddenly all the carefully learned phrases she used to comfort herself dissipated from her memory.

Disappointment.

Who was she to defy the carefully structured society that picked a role for her? The room was spinning and she could hear her breaths coming in short rasps.

Someone was calling her name.

“Sweetheart?” no one was laughing anymore, and Azriel was standing before her, hands stretched out as though not to frighten away a doe “Are you alright?”

She snapped her head up, wide eyes taking in the group of fae she considered her closest family.

How they were all standing there, stars almost reflecting in their eyes and concern shining in them. They stared at her, and she could feel their night being ruined already.

Frozen to the spot, was what she was, lips downturned and breathing so, so shallow. Then someone outstretched a hand to touch her and she was taking off running down the hallway to her chambers, confused and concerned questions following her.

She ignored the fae staring at her in shock. She would’ve heard a scoff or two, if it weren’t for the ringing in her ears. If it weren’t for a certain Illyrian following after her, glaring down those few fae.

She did not remember running through the hallways of the House of Wind. Nor could she remember getting into her bedroom.

All she felt was shame as she now sat on the floor against her bed, knees drawn up high to her chest, hiding her head between them. She faintly registered the urgent knocking on her door as salt streams rushed down her face. She hiccuped and finally heard herself let out a sob.

You’ve ruined it now. Foolish girl.

Maybe if she had never dared to dream in the first place, she wouldn’t be here now. She wouldn’t have disappointed her parents. She wouldn’t have burdened Az with all this baggage. How can he even treat her seriously after all this? He had undergone years of imprisonment, torture and war and here she was breaking down because she thought she had a chance at a life braver than the one chosen for her.

What was she going to do?

She heard herself let out more sobs and struggled to catch her breath, her nails starting to dig into her palms. She can’t come back there - gods she was so miserable there. But what if her father actually came here? By her kingdom’s law Rhysand would be obligated to hand her back to her father since she was unmarried. She could picture it all and she couldn’t- she couldn’t breathe.

“Angel? Let me in sweetheart, please. Let me fix it.”

Azriel was still knocking on her door, and without any fight left in her, she rose up to her knees and unlocked the door for him. The next second he was sitting before her, tear stained face in his scarred palms as he wiped them away with his thumbs. More came to follow.

“What happened? What was that?” there was genuine terror in his eyes, as if he couldn’t stand to see her like this. She collapsed into a new-found heap of sobs at that and he let her fall into his chest.

“Sweetheart, please-” he said with a thick voice, gathering her into his lap.

His arms came around her, one stroking comfortingly along her back, one cradling her head to the juncture between his shoulder and neck.

“Okay, shh, there you are. Shh, you’re alright, I promise, alright? I’m right here” he rushed out the words, pulling at strings to comfort her.

He knew about the guilt, the feelings she was hiding away, too scared to show even her best friend. He knew, before she did, that it would come crashing out of her in the end.

What he didn’t know was what was in that damned letter that made her this inconsolable.

When he saw how her face fell as she read over those words - he physically had to stop himself from tearing the thing apart and tucking her away in his arms, letting her forget all things bad. Had to stop himself from flying to that wretched kingdom at that moment and burning it to the ground. All he could do now was bring her closer and start rocking her while she sobbed it out.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she was able to properly breathe again. With time and her best friend's gentle words her sobs turned into hiccups and finally stopped altogether. She exhaled against him and raised a hand to rub at her eyes.

“Gentle” Azriel had captured her wrist in his hand, letting a shadow wipe away at the remnants of her tears. She looked up to meet his eyes.

“There she is” she let out a wet laugh

“Ruined your shirt.” she whispered as she tried to wipe away at the tears and makeup she left there

“It’s okay” he said, still looking at her so, so softly “Wanna talk about it, hm?” she felt her eyes stinging

“I’m really sorry for being such a mess, Az, I really am,” she told him, wide, wet eyes staring up at him “Gods, I ruined Starfall didn’t I? I promised myself I-”

“Stop it. Right now,” her breath hitched “You did not ruin anything, angel”

She looked down at her lap, starting to play with her fingers

“Hey. Look at me” when she didn’t, she took her face into his hands and tilted it up, their eyes meeting “Everything is alright. Starfall hasn’t even begun yet. You didn’t ruin anything”

“It hasn’t?”

“No, it hasn’t” she nodded, relieved

“Okay, then” he wanted to tell her how she wouldn’t have ruined anything for him regardless. She couldn’t if she wanted. But he had a feeling she wouldn’t believe him - and that wasn’t what his best friend needed now.

After a bit of silence she tilted her head to the tear stained letter discarded on the floor next to them. He raised his eyebrows in question, and she nodded in agreement. Azriel’s jaw was already set tight before his shadows handed the letter to him.

She alternated between staring at him as his eyes followed the text and looking down into her lap, where Az’s shadows played with the rim of her dress, curling around her in soothing motions. When she glanced up again, he was already looking at her, something unrecognizable in the hazel of his eyes.

“This is bullshit. You know that, right?” there was urgency in his voice “This isn’t happening”

“But- but what if he comes here? He will come here, Az”

“I don’t care”

“Az-”

“You’re not going anywhere with them, end of story. They can get through me first”

“By law Rhysand will have to hand me over, Az. I’m unmarried and he is my father” he let out a scoff.

Azriel’s shadows seemed to get more and more agitated with every reasoning she gave, starting to rise up and curl all around her - as if they alone were going to act as a shield protecting her.

“You’re no doll for anyone to be handing over. We’re in Night, our law applies here, no one can take you”

“Oh,” he exhaled and brushed her hair down and behind her ears. Gods, she must look like a mess after all this “Really?”

“Yes” he didn’t tell her how even if all the laws in the world were against them, he wouldn’t let anyone take her away from him. Ever.

“I still- I feel so guilty, you know? I mean okay, I’m- I’m here and everything is fine while they’re there making amends because I ran. But I couldn’t live that life, Az, I really couldn’t” she moved off his lap to sit next to him against her bed

“I know. You don’t have to live any life other than the one you want. You decide”

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts,” he looked down at her, with such seriousness in his eyes it startled her “I know the guilt you feel because you think you did something bad but it’s them who act like victims after terrorizing you your whole life. It is not alright how they treated you,” there were tears gathering at her waterline “You did not deserve to be treated that way, angel. I don’t think you realize how brave of a person you are. How many rooms you light up. You’re capable of great things and I know you do, but you should not feel sorry for leaving and doing something for yourself when you’ve quite literally spent your entire life living up to their whims. And then they have the nerve to call you a- disappointment” Azriel tripped over the word, and she could practically hear his teeth grinding with how hard his jaw was set “Which you’re not, do you hear me?” He looked down at her and made sure she met his eye “You could never disappoint me, ever. Do you understand?”

“Y-yeah” she nodded, wide eyed

“Good. That’s good” she allowed herself to rest her head against his shoulder

“Thank you, Az” but before he could respond, the sky lit up right in front of their eyes, through the open balcony gates. Her breath hitched and mouth opened in wonder.

“Az! Look at that”

“Yeah, starfall, sweetheart” his eyes were soft as he took in the smile that finally graced her face. Something was pulling hard in the shadowsinger’s chest but all he could do was try to memorize her expression. Engrave it permanently in his mind.

“It’s beautiful”

“It is”

They watched the souls swim through the skies for some time in comfortable silence. The stars were falling in a kaleidoscope of colors and maybe she really hadn’t ruined the night. And maybe it was in her blood to worry and feel guilty for at least a few more decades. And surely Azriel would be there to stand with her through it.

“Angel?” He looked down at her, about to say something, but the words died on his tongue when he noticed her slumped against him, asleep on his shoulder. He smiled to himself.

It was three words Azriel whispered to his best friend as he carried and tucked her in bed, stars falling in the distance. Three words that she did not hear, yet.

[scottiexmariee]

omg ive been highly enjoying ur fics and hcs!!! i think u wrote their characters very spot on 🥺 the jail one got me thinking... can i request the lads boys reacting to the reader getting in trouble after punching someone. bc someone talked shit about the boys and wanted to defend their honor or smth lmfao ty!!! 💕

omg anon lemme kiss u on the forehead 

I almost did a backflip when I read this, I was so happy to write it. This one took a bit longer to write so I do apologize, but I was reeeeally on a mission to deliver some good plot here

Some are a bit longer (coughSyluscough) but I really hope you enjoy <3

Defending Their Honor

Pairings: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k (oops)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Lore references. Reader throwing hands. FEELINGS. Soft Sylus. -Scottie is allergic to happiness.

Masterlist

Note: I got possessed when I wrote Sylus' and probably should have made him his own fic. I am not sorry. It is longer than the others. I am bashing my head against the keyboard. Please forgive me.

☆ “While I’m honored, you didn’t have to do that on my behalf,”

☆ ^ Giggling and kicking his feet on the inside though

☆ He’d also return the favor with no hesitation if the situation was ever reversed

☆ ^ You will NOT diss his lady in his presence

☆ Y’all are def cuddling for the rest of the night as soon as you get home

Xavier really needed to learn to stop taking his eyes off of you when the two of you were out in public. 

The two of you had gone on a fun little outing to Linkon’s version of a pop-up carnival. There were games, food vendors, live music, and tons of people. He knew how badly you’d wanted to go, so of course you nearly jumped right into his arms when he showed up at your apartment after lunch and told you to get ready.

So far, it had been good. The two of you had played a couple games, won some prizes, even took chances with a few questionable rides. You had walked around, hand in hand, enjoying each other’s presence and making new memories together.

It had been seconds. Seconds. You were both, unsurprisingly, hungry after walking around for a few hours. Xavier, being the knight in shining armor that he is, had walked up to one of the nearby food vendors to grab a snack for the two of you, innocently leaving you near a blue park bench. When he finished, you had disappeared. 

He stared at the now empty park bench, snacks in hand, completely baffled. He did a quick scan of the area, only to see a bunch of people he didn’t know, and someone being escorted to the exit by two security officers.

But that person almost looked like they were wearing the same outfit as you.

Xavier squinted. Surely not, right?

He caught up quickly, nearly stumbling when his suspicions were confirmed. That was absolutely you being dragged to the front of the park.

He lagged behind quietly, saying nothing, but already accepting the fact that your fun carnival date was apparently over. 

You were given a verbal warning and kicked out of the park, being told not to come back for the remainder of this year’s visit. If you came back, it would be trespassing.

You were getting ready to text Xavier when you realized he was right in front of you, nibbling on some type of skewer he’d gotten from the vendor. “Sooo…” He began, eyeing you curiously.

“I may or may not have slapped someone,”

His eyes immediately widened, his mind running through every possible scenario. 

“What happened? Did someone touch you?” He reached out and grabbed your wrist, eyes scanning every inch of exposed skin for injuries. 

“No! No, it’s….nothing like that,” 

His eyebrows furrowed. “Then….?”

Suddenly, you were a bit embarrassed. It had been so stupid. How was he even going to react to this?

When Xavier had left you by the bench, a man that looked to be around your age approached and asked for your number.

“I know you just saw me with someone.”

“So?”

“Not interested,”

“Why? Because of that loser? You could do better.”

That was it. That was the reason you’d backhanded the disrespect right out of that man’s bloodline. 

Xavier was….so many things. Incredibly kind, thoughtful, and just so deliciously him. You adored him the same way he adored you, and had him on a pedestal that no one could even close to touching. You could do better? Not possible. There was not a soul in this galaxy that was better than Xavier. At least, not to you.

Hearing someone speak lowly of him when you truthfully couldn’t even articulate how incredible he was? Yeah, instant slap. 

You kept your explanation short. “Some guy called you a loser,” You said, rubbing your arm sheepishly. 

Xavier almost giggled. 

“So….you slapped him?” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line, the reality of how out-of-pocket the whole thing was finally setting in.

Surprisingly, Xavier laughed. It was soft, filled with fondness and mirth. He pulled you into a loving embrace, placing a soft kiss on the top of your forehead. He'd be lying to the both of you if he said he wouldn't do something similar.

“I’m honored,” He began, his voice muffled by your hair, “but you don’t have to slap people on my behalf,”

“I’ll always defend you, whether you’re in the room or not,” You responded, your tone firm and completely serious. 

Xavier stood there for a moment, arms wrapped around you still, feeling like the luckiest guy alive. The thought of you backhanding someone for calling him something as simple as a loser was almost hysterical, yet it filled him with a warmth he couldn’t explain. You were really something else. 

After a moment, he pulled back, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Let’s go. There’s plenty of time left for us to turn this night around,”

❅ okay listen I love Zayne

❅ but he's kinda emotionally constipated sometimes (at least on the OUTSIDE)

❅ the logical side of him wants to scold you and tell you that this wasn't necessary

❅ but the emotional side, the side that is harder for him to articulate, is lowkey flattered that you'd go that far to defend his name

Zayne slowly paced back and forth in the lobby of the city’s police station, the only sounds in the room being the tap of his shoes on the linoleum floor and the ticking of a clock on the wall. He glanced toward the clock. It had been 20 minutes since he’d come to retrieve you, and he was growing impatient. 

The two of you were in another city for an awards banquet. You’d come along simply to support Zayne, your absolute favorite person in existence (who just so happened to be an incredible Doctor that was receiving multiple awards for his work).

Imagine Zayne’s surprise when the banquet ended and he couldn’t find you anywhere. It was extremely out of character for you to disappear when it came to things like this, especially while you were in an unfamiliar place. This wasn’t Linkon. You wouldn’t have simply left without so much as a ‘congratulations’, not to mention that Zayne had been your ride here. 

By the third time your phone had gone to voicemail, Zayne was nervous. That was when he started asking around. He’d pulled up a photo of you, showing it to various employees and asking if anyone had happened to see you leave. 

It was a security guard that told him you’d been arrested.

He left immediately, having the directions already pulled up before he made it out to the car. 

Now, he paced, an amalgamation of concern, confusion, and stress. 

A buzzing sound emanated from somewhere down the hall, and Zayne’s head whipped toward the sound to see you being led out by an officer, still wearing the outfit that matched his tie color. 

The red knuckles weren’t easy to miss. 

While he did still open the car door for you, he chose a tactical silence for the duration of the car ride. There wouldn’t be a single word spoken until you were back in the hotel room. This was a calculated method by Zayne. He knew you’d be absolutely squirming by the time you guys made it back, and that was exactly what he wanted. 

The door to your shared room clicked shut behind Zayne, who’d entered behind you. He leaned against it, folding his arms over his chest. He raised an expectant eyebrow at you, his eye flitting between your flustered face and reddened knuckles on your dominant hand. 

It was hard to take him seriously when he looked that handsome in a tux.

“I…may have overreacted,” You finally said, your voice coming out timid. 

“Can you go anywhere without picking a fight?” He responded, his tone exasperated. 

You swallowed. 

“I can…”

Zayne took a steadying breath. He moved from the door and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Tell me what happened,”

You had been out looking at all of the posters on the wall, reading the lists of different accomplishments and awards printed under each attendee, waiting for the banquet to end. Zayne had already received his awards, but was still backstage and not allowed to leave. Some of the audience, including you, had stepped out of the auditorium throughout the banquet. You had originally just wanted some air. The auditorium had been stuffy, and the fancy outfit you had on was not helping. 

While you were out admiring the different posters, you heard a woman making some pretty rude comments about the poster she and her friends were in front of. At first, you just scoffed. You couldn’t imagine being so bitter. Was it so hard to be supportive of others, even if they weren’t the one you came for?

And then, you realized which poster she was standing in front of. 

Zayne.

Imagine this: You happen to be involved with an incredibly smart, talented, and stunning man that just so happens to be a Chief Cardiac Surgeon at only 27 years old. The same man that has made evolutionary discoveries and progress in treating cardiac abnormalities. The same man that you absolutely adored, and wanted nothing but the absolute best for. All of this is great, right? Now imagine hearing someone say something completely horrible about him right in front of you.

At first, the confrontation had started off as just a scolding. You’d told the woman that it wasn’t right to say horrible things about the attendees. They all did such incredible things that they were receiving awards for, after all. This was not the place for such behavior. 

And then, she just….kept going. 

Before long, you’d quickly ended the conversation with an abrupt bitch-slap. Security had already been approaching when your hand connected with her face. You weren’t going to tell Zayne this, but you’d actually gotten tackled. 

You gave Zayne the shortened version of the story, leaving out all of the gushing. 

Initially, he was quiet again as he tried to process what you’d just told him. 

Lady. Talking bad. Zayne. Slap.

For a moment, he couldn’t understand why you’d even resort to that. But when he looked at you, looking at him with eyes full of love and respect, he softened a little. While he didn’t necessarily agree with your methods, who was he to dictate how a person should react to any scenario?

He patted the spot next to him, still trying to form an appropriate response. You sat willingly, leaning into his side. He looped an arm around your waist. 

You sat in silence for a few minutes longer before he finally spoke. 

“The logical part of me should scold you, (Y/N). That was a bit overboard,” 

You looked up at him. His words implied that the logical part of him wasn’t the one that was winning whatever internal battle he had going on. “And what does the other part of you think?”

He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Truthfully?”

You nodded, nearly melting at the sudden affection. His lips showed the faintest hint of a smile. “Truthfully, I’m flattered,”

❀yk how Raf blushes and pouts when you do the Heartbeat interaction??

❀ yeahhhh

❀ but also.....feelings

When Rafayel learned you’d been thrown out of his newest exhibition, he was initially pretty offended. He didn’t even want to be there to begin with. You were the only reason he’d forced himself to come, though he’d never admit it out loud. He had an arsenal of complaints ready to fire off the second he met you outside, after he reasoned with security, of course. 

It was Thomas who had weaved through the crowd, placed an urgent hand on Rafayel’s shoulder, and leaned close to speak for only the artist’s ears: “Security just dragged (Y/N) out of here. She hit someone,” 

The confrontation had luckily gone mostly unnoticed. It happened quick, and security had whisked you out. You’d gone willingly, and the man you’d struck no longer felt like sticking around either. 

Somewhere during the short walk from the back of the building to the front doors, your reason for lashing out had gotten lost in translation. Rafayel was under the impression that you’d thrown hands because someone had dissed his art. 

That, however, was an unfortunate misunderstanding. 

It wasn’t his art that the man had described as ‘worthless.’ It was Rafayel. 

Rafayel had smooth-talked security into letting you come back inside, with the condition that you would not be a problem for the remainder of the night. 

Rafayel had been flattered, but definitely thought you’d overreacted. 

“Not everyone can say they have a bodyguard this protective over art,” He teased, casting an amused glance in your direction. “Think we can make it through the rest of today without another attack?” 

You’d rolled your eyes, still a bit peeved. Who the hell comes to an exhibit specifically to dog the artist, anyway? “That’s not even what happened,” You grumbled. 

“People critique art all the tiiime. That doesn’t mean they should get assaulted over it,” 

“It’s different,” 

“I’m just saying. I’ve never punched anyone at an art gallery. Maybe you’re taking the Bodyguard title too seriously,” 

“Rafayel. You were the art,” 

Rafayel came to an abrupt stop, the air seemingly vanishing from his lungs. He’d heard you. He’d definitely heard you. His brain, however, was doing backflips, struggling to process your last sentence. 

You were the art. 

The gears clicked into place, his cheeks burning hotter and hotter with each passing second. In all honesty, he was conflicted. He was torn between the all-encompassing warmth, the feeling of being appreciated and thought so highly of that you would deck someone in the face purely for speaking ill on his name. The other half of him felt almost bitter. 

You were that same silly girl with a bad memory. And yet, here you were, fighting someone off of instinct when they said something nasty about him. 

You could do that, yet there was so much you couldn’t remember.

He was in a war with his thoughts and emotions, and unbeknownst to you, you were once again the cause. 

He finally collected himself, masking the emotional roller coaster he’d just been on with a chuckle. He patted the top of your head, settling on a teasing comment rather than risking opening the floodgates. 

“You’re so weird, Miss Bodyguard,” 

Rafayel would end up finding you in every lifetime, over and over again, no matter the cost. He’d remember every promise, every touch, every stolen moment. Yet, in every single timeline, you always found a way to make his head spin and his heart do cartwheels in his chest. 

This would forever stick out as one of those moments.  

⟡ Soft Sylus.

⟡ Soft Sylus.

⟡ SOFT SYLUS.

Sylus had invited you to tag along on yet another negotiation. He’d claimed he just liked having you at his side, but he truthfully respected your input more than he’d admit out loud. He’d often bring you along under the guise of keeping him company, but would subtly pay attention to your body language and facial expressions. If you weren’t going to bite, neither was he. 

After the first negotiation you attended, you as Sylus’ +1 became a much more frequent occurrence. As long as he was in the room, your safety was guaranteed. Not to mention how a lot of potential deals went off a little smoother when you were in the room to ease the tension. 

Today, the two of you were headed to a hotel a few cities away to meet with a man named Michael. You didn’t have many details about the deal, but you had the basics. If there was anything you needed to know, Sylus would tell you. 

It had taken you exactly 6 seconds after entering the room to decide that you did not like Michael. There was just something about him that had already gotten on your nerves. The arrogance? The ‘up-to-no-good’ vibe he absolutely reeked of?  The way he looked at the two of you like you were nothing more than pests the moment you walked in? 

While it was just you and Sylus on your side of the bargain, Michael had 6 armed guards scattered through the room, which added to your irritation. Michael was clearly a man that thrived off intimidation, yet was too cowardly to have an even playing field. 

Sylus never lost his nonchalance. He strode in like he had nothing to lose, suave and unbothered. He kept a hand pressed lightly against the small of your back as he guided you to a seat, a silent reassurance that everything would be fine.

The meeting had began, but not without Sylus catching how your mood had soured considerably within the first 10 minutes. 

The more Michael talked, the shadier the whole ordeal seemed. He was boasting about some modified protocore that was the ‘best on the market,’ and trying to goad Sylus into purchasing it. 

Sylus wasn’t dumb by any means. But Sylus was also a man that would humor someone for his own entertainment. “Show it to me,” He said, his tone even.

One of the guards gestured for Sylus to follow, and he immediately turned to you, waiting for you to come as well. Instead, you shook your head. You didn’t want to risk being ambushed when you came back if both of you left. Sylus trusted your judgment, knowing that he would be gone for less than 5 minutes. With a quiet “Behave,” cast in your direction, he disappeared with the guard. 

The second the door shut behind him, Michael turned to one of his guards and said something you probably weren’t supposed to hear.  “I’m going to walk that bastard like a dog, just watch.” 

Oh? 

In hindsight, it would have been better to keep your mouth shut. All you had to do was give Sylus a signal when he returned, and he would call this off with no hesitation. Your opinion mattered, after all. He didn’t just bring you to these meetings to serve as eye candy. Knowing this, you should have just brushed Michael’s comment off. However, it had gotten under your skin in a way you couldn’t shake off. The words were leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

“I’d like to see you try,” 

Michael, and all 5 of his remaining guards, immediately looked at you as if locking onto a target. The tension in the room intensified considerably.

Michael scoffed, looking at you as if you were a bug he’d stepped on. You glanced toward the door Sylus had stepped out of moments before, half expecting him to be standing there with an amused smirk on his face. He wasn’t, though.

Michael was on his feet, taking slow steps toward the chair you were sitting in. Despite the shaking in your fingers, you stayed put. “You must think so highly of him,” He drawled, zeroing in on you. “I didn’t know a man like that could catch the attention of a pretty thing like you,”

You didn’t know why, but your anger was rising with each passing second. The implication of his words was clear, but you wanted to hear him say it. It was obvious that he thought of himself higher than Sylus, and clearly didn’t have many polite thoughts about him. You and Sylus weren’t necessarily a… ‘thing,’ per se. Not yet, anyway.  So why did this piss you off so badly?

“A man like what?” You challenged, staring up at Michael. In your lap, your hands, that had been neatly folded, were slowly clenching into fists.

Michael's mouth twisted into a wolfish, arrogant grin. “I’d say he takes up more space than he’s worth. Cocky, foolish, insufferable–”

Your fist had connected with his jaw before he could get another word out, sending him stumbling backwards, clutching his jaw as he tried to regain his footing. 

It would take you about a week to fully process how the next 15 seconds had gone.

At first, the silence was so intense that you could audibly hear the rapid beat of your own heart.

Then, guns were raised and pointed directly at you. 5 from the guards, all at separate angles, and one directly in front of you from Michael himself. 

Next, gunfire. A lot of gunfire. Multiple shots ringing out from 6 different directions. 

You weren’t exactly sure when Sylus had entered, but he apparently had the timing of a God. You’d been whisked out of harm's way, somehow completely uninjured. You realized later that he likely used his evol somewhere in the mix.

Once safely away from the hotel, Sylus turned to face you, lips set in a thin line but his expression otherwise neutral. He studied you for a long moment. 

“That went well,” He said, his tone lacking any amusement. “Should I not trust you enough to leave you unattended for two minutes?”

You folded your arms over your chest. You didn’t trust the sound of your voice yet. You knew you owed him an explanation, but the adrenaline was still too high and you were still too angry to speak.

Sylus checked you for any injuries and then, to your surprise, grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.  

“You need to be more careful who you pick fights with,” He warned. His tone was firm, but not unkind. He knew you were more than capable of handling yourself. It was one of the things he appreciated about you. However, the fight today had left a bitter taste in his mouth. This was the first time he hadn’t been in the room the entire time. It could have been a lot worse, and you weren’t bulletproof. This was the first time he’d left you alone for more than 30 seconds, and it had ended with you in a shootout. 

“Maybe he shouldn’t have been talking shit about you the second you walked away,” You retorted, your voice coming out bitter. “Right in front of me. It was just…disrespectful.”

Sylus, who had assumed Michael had started it on his own, was stunned. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t have any quips or sarcastic comments to make. That was what had caused the fight? You, the same person that used to look at him with so much distrust and caution, had thrown yourself into a fight to defend his name while he wasn’t in the room. 

Sylus was silent for a moment, his eyes combing your face for any hint of deception. When your words finally sank in, he nearly melted on the spot. The adoration he’d already felt was intensified. The warmth he felt in his chest was almost too much, and he wasn’t sure whether he should scold you or kiss you. 

Instead, he gently tugged you against his chest, choosing to simply hold you for a moment. It felt like the only correct option. His chin rested against the top of your head, one arm looped around your back as the other cradled your head. He was absolutely flattered, and outrageously smitten.

Yeah, he had it bad. 

“Just when I think I have you figured out, you go and do something else that surprises me,” He murmured fondly, rubbing small circles into your back. You were an endless mystery to him. But as he stood there, holding you against him, he knew he’d happily spend the rest of his life trying to figure you out. 

Note: 1.4k words just for Sylus I am SO SORRY but I needed this man getting all soft with this prompt slkdhjsalkhd 

[reidology13]

imgonnagetyouback

Spencer Reid x fem!reader - Undercover with your ex boyfriend

cw: suggestive, age gap, a gun is shot, a lil angst?

wc: 2.9k

a/n: this took sooo long and idk what to think of it, but it's something!!

As you stood outside the club, arms linked with Spencer Reid – your coworker and ex boyfriend – you wondered how exactly you ended up here. None of this would have happened if Prentiss knew about your history. Keeping your relationship, and the end of it, a secret had seemed like a good idea at the time, and had been going well until earlier that day. Prentiss calling you and Spencer into her office had already been unexpected, but being assigned with an undercover mission, as a couple, was enough to shock you into silence for a moment. Still, no amount of shock could have kept you from fighting Spencer when he argued against you being undercover with him. You were perfectly capable of doing your job, Prentiss knew that, Spencer knew that, and he would pay.

“We watch him from the bar, put on a show until he notices us, then we walk out and hope he takes the bait. Okay?” You were so caught up in your thoughts that it took a second for the sound of his voice register. What didn’t need time to sink in was the feeling of his breath, hot on your skin.

“I know the plan.” You rolled your eyes, tensing as he slipped his arm out of yours, wrapping it around your waist, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt, “Dick.”

“Time to head inside. Remember, this unsub needs more from a couple than just a younger woman, he needs you to be physically affectionate.” The disembodied voice of your Unit Chief filled your ears, and Spencer gave you a look that had to be designed entirely to piss you off. It was working.

“We can do that, Prentiss.” Spencer said, the smile barely hidden in his voice, his thumb rubbing over one of your ribs.

“Let’s go.” You stepped out of his reach, grabbing his hand and dragging him with you into the club. The moment you were inside he pulled you closer to him, keeping you glued to his side as he steered you towards the bar. The way he took charge of the situation shouldn’t have been nearly as attractive as it was, a cruel reminder of what you had been. The awkward, nerdy Spencer Reid was gone, replaced by a version that even you had only seen a few times. It was a side of him that only came out on days – well, nights – when he needed to take control after a bad day.

Or, apparently, whenever he wanted it to.

As you sat at the bar, he seemed to decide the small gap the stools put between you was too much, shuffling to the edge of his and leaning in as far as he could. It was a precarious position, and if you hadn’t been undercover, you would have given him a shove and watched him scramble for the seat. That was what you would have done a few months ago, and he would have scowled, and you would have laughed until his pride gave up and he joined in. Instead, you mirrored him, leaning in until you could hear his hushed words in your ear.

“Can you see him?” You pulled back a bit, giving yourself a wider view of the crowded room as you searched for the suspect. Not that he was really a ‘suspect’ anymore, the profile and every single piece of evidence pointed to him. All that was left for you to do was get him out of the club and into a location where he would be of no danger to the public when your team apprehended him.

And you would, because there he was, near the wall at the back of the room, concealed in the crowd. Your eyes flashed back to Spencer’s immediately, you couldn’t risk blowing your cover because the unsub caught you staring.

“In the corner of the room, to your left.”

“Well then,” The momentary professionalism was gone from his voice, replaced by that infuriating, seductive, punchable smugness, “I guess all we have left to do is wait.”

Waiting was the last thing either of you would be doing. An unsub like this needed to be constantly entertained, like a cat distracted by the nearest movement. The job was to draw and keep his attention, and to be honest, that was the last thing you wanted to do with Spencer. It was also the only thing you had ever wanted in your entire life, which was why you were not giving your hormones an ounce of attention.

“Okay, but right now he hasn’t looked our way once, so either we get moving, or we might as well pack up and leave.” You hissed under your breath, the tone of your voice harsher than you had intended.

“He's not going to take the bait if you keep glaring at me like that, we're supposed to be a couple, remember?” He might have been the most infuriating person whose presence you had ever been subjected to, but he was right. You contorted your face into a smile, waving the bartender over and ordering the first non alcoholic drink that came to mind. 

“I really don't like you, you know that right?” You ran your hand over his chest, fingers toying with the collar of his shirt. 

“I know.”

You didn’t respond, opting instead to take a small sip from your glass, carefully ignoring the man beside you. Everything these days had to be careful. Answering the team's questions as to why you two had gone from best friends to barely talking, avoiding all of your old haunts, prying the remnants of him out of your life. You were tired of it.

“So, how are we supposed to draw his attention?” You sighed, placing your drink down as you glanced at the unsub, not at all surprised to see him looking in the opposite direction to the two of you.

“Come here.” He wasn’t even looking at you as he tapped his thigh, barely sparing you an ounce of his attention as he looked around the room.

“Fuck you.” 

“That was my plan B.” If you weren’t already rolling your eyes, you would have then. Still, there was something about hearing the immature, juvenile jabs from Spencer Reid, the man who was known for his grasp of language that was almost – almost – endearing.

“You’re disgusting.”

“You’re still sitting on your stool.”

“I’m not going to sit anywhere else.” You flinched when you felt his hands make contact with your waist.

“And how do you expect the unsub to target us when you won’t let me touch you?”

“Fine.” You slid off the seat, allowing his hands on your waist to help pull you up the extra distance, bringing you to perch on his lap. It made it worse that you had to face him to keep eyes on the unsub, meaning that your lips were only a few inches apart.

“How easy was that?”

“I don’t care about this,” you gestured to the space—or lack thereof—between you, “I care about how smug you’re being.”

“Why?”

“Because you didn't want me here in the first place, and now you're trying to punish me in some weird, sick game of yours.”

“I'm not trying to punish you, and the only reason I didn’t want you here was how dangerous this is.” You tried to focus on the anger you felt at him thinking you couldn’t handle yourself, rather than the part of you that revelled in how protective he could be.

“Then why have you been like this all night? All annoying and flirty?”

“I'm not sure about the annoying part, but do you expect me not to flirt with the beautiful woman on my arm?” He took a glance at where you were perched on his knee before correcting himself, “In my lap?”

You weren't sure how you were planning on responding to him, but luckily you didn't have to, catching the unsub’s gaze on the two of you out of the corner of your eye. He seemed mildly interested, not overly intrigued by the display, but enough to have marked you down as a possibility. 

“He's looking at us.” You murmured to Spencer, resting your head on his shoulder, the position designed to force you to keep your eyes off the unsub, no matter how tempting it was to steal a glance.

“When you’re sure you have his attention, walk out and go to the alley behind the building.” Emily’s voice in your ear felt like a slap to the face, a nice reminder that you and Spencer were under constant surveillance, and that you were at risk of a stern conversation after this was over. Inappropriate workplace conduct, probably. You mentally thanked Garcia and Morgan for greasing the wheels.

“Yes, ma’am.” 

A jolt ran through you when Spencer’s fingers dug into the flesh of your thigh, the sensation so deeply entwined with good memories that it was almost nostalgic. You ran a hand down his arm slowly, almost sensually, a romantic gesture to anyone that saw, unaware of the subtle pinch you gave his wrist. You held back a snicker when he hissed under his breath and loosened his harsh grip, but refused to move his hand from its new resting place.

“What was that for?” His voice went all high pitched and whiny, the cute annoying way that it always did when he complained.

“Don’t act dumb, Spence, it doesn’t suit you.” The nickname slipped out absentmindedly, it didn’t cross your mind that you hadn’t even called him by anything but his last name in months. His breath hitched, and you lifted your head from his shoulder to see what was going on, to make sure that he was okay. 

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, slack jawed and gazing at you like you were the only being in the universe. It was the way he used to look at you when you were curled up on his couch, when you were writhing underneath him, when he whispered ‘good morning’ with a soft kiss to your shoulder. When you were his. It might as well have been another one of his miraculous magic tricks, the way it made every sane thought in your head disappear.

Which was probably why you made no move to stop him when his lips crashed into yours, hands cupping your cheeks with a familiar intensity. You melted into his touch, almost forgetting why you were there in the first place. Your hands roamed all over him, frustrated at the inability to be everywhere at once, eventually settling for tangling in his hair. A small cough from the bartender separated you, Spencer holding your bottom lip for a moment too long as he pulled back. It was hard to tell how long the kiss lasted, only that you were so oxygen deprived by the end of it that your head spun. Or that was just a side effect of him. Probably. 

Reality sunk in, and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet Spencer’s eyes again, keeping your focus on his messier-than-usual hair. That you had caused. 

Fuck.

“That was…” His breathless voice was almost too much, like he had just come up for air after being underwater. 

“Nothing, Reid.” If he had been holding his breath, you had been drowning.

“Say it again,” He tilted your head with the hands that were still holding your face like it was made of porcelain, forcing you to meet his gaze. Dark eyes bore into your own as you let go of his hair, hands falling numbly to your sides, “my name.”

“We’re at work.” 

Although the reminder had been intended for him, saying the words prompted you to direct your focus back to the case. You glanced subtly in the direction of the unsub, hoping to find him fixated on your display, only to discover that he wasn’t there. Panic rose in your chest at the thought your momentary distraction had allowed him to get away, follow some other couple out. If new victims popped up the next day it would be your fault.

And then you saw him, significantly closer with his eyes locked on you both, and you were sure that you had never been so relieved to be the target of a serial killer. Unfortunately, he wasn’t caught yet, and it was still up to you and Spencer to lure him out of there. Which meant more touching, more talking, more him. 

“Baby, let’s get out of here.” You made sure to speak loud enough for the unsub to hear, and gave the bartender a look of annoyance, as if he was being an imposition by asking you to not rip the clothes off of each other in public. You might have felt a bit guilty if lives weren’t at stake.

Spencer nodded, keeping his hands firmly on your waist even after he had helped you get down from his lap. He leant down to press another kiss to your lips, and you forced yourself to keep your head on straight, giggling as he pulled back, chasing his lips playfully. Up on your tiptoes, you kissed his jaw lightly. The whole walk out of the club was spent all over each other, like you couldn’t get enough, one of you was always touching the other.

As you meandered onto the street, you spotted a statue of a little cherub angel, saying something cheesy and romantic. Spencer leaned down, breath hot on your ear as he whispered in an exaggerated sensual tone, “Don’t even blink. Blink and you’re dead. They’re fast, faster than you could believe.”

That time, you couldn’t tell yourself the laugh that fell from your lips wasn’t real, it was so Spencer to make a joke about Doctor Who while you were actively being stalked by a serial killer. You took advantage of his proximity to pull him into another kiss, stumbling into the alley where the ambush was to take place. He pushed you against the wall, peppering your face and neck with kisses, his hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise. You heard a shuffle in the alley, the cock of a gun, and the rest was a blur as the two of you were knocked to the ground, just as a gunshot rang out.

.*☆¸•

When everything was over, when the unsub had been apprehended and the team was back at the local police station, you couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. Not that the unsub had been caught, of course, but at the fact that was most definitely the last time you would get to touch Spencer like that.

You hadn’t expected him to show up at the door of your hotel room at two in the morning, about an hour after you had made it back from the police station.

“What are you doing here.” It wasn’t a question, it was a polite way of telling him to go away before you did something stupid, like slap him. Or kiss him. Or both.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” He ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair as he stepped forwards, the fire with which he looked at you bordering on a glare. Every second he spent in the room with you was clouding your thoughts, at least the sensible ones that were reminding you of every reason why you shouldn’t just drag him over to the ran through hotel bed.

“Get out.”

“Tell me that it wasn’t real.” In a few short steps he was standing right before you—fuck, his legs were long, which shouldn’t have been as hot as it was—with those brown eyes staring into your soul.

“You know I can’t.” You wished you had more control over what you said, and you wished that he had more self restraint when it came to his actions.

Neither of you did, however, and you had always been weak when it came to him, too weak to care when he leant down and pressed his lips to yours. It wasn’t soft, it was restrained, as if it was taking everything in him to hold back. You didn’t want him to hold back, even if it was out of respect for you, impatience was your vice. Grabbing the collar of his stupidly sexy sleep shirt, you pulled him in deeper, hoping the sensation of his tongue could lick away the bitter taste in your mouth. 

This time, when you separated, he was the one to pull back, his breathing heavy and a feral glint in his eyes that were otherwise filled with sorrow.

“I’m sorry.” Neither of you needed to clarify what he was referring to, and neither of you wanted to. The few months after he was released from prison were Hell for both of you, for entirely different reasons.

“I don’t care about that, we’re okay.” It was only half a lie, murmured against his neck as you pressed desperate, sloppy kisses to his skin. Of course you cared, but that care was being swiftly overridden by much more single-minded feelings. You weren’t okay, but maybe you could be.

He looked right through you in that way only Spencer Reid ever could, and he knew just as well as you did that you were lying. You both needed to talk, and you would, at least that’s what you told yourselves. 

Not that night, though.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

tysm for reading!!

Tags: @reidmoony-toast + a little dedicatory tag for @darkmatilda ty for being like the entire reason I finished this

[cbeargyu]

heh... boypussy!beomgyu

don't hide from me

summary: after two months of dating beomgyu, you always felt there was something delicate and elusive about him—his frame too petite, his skin too soft, his reactions too sensitive. tonight, you finally learn his secret...

pairing: beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: smut, soft dom!reader, emotional intensity, boypussy beomgyu, heavy kink content, comfort smut.

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ only), boypussy, rubbing (clit-to-clit), fingering, scissoring, pussy worship, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, crying from pleasure, intense eye contact, spit, cum play, body worship, messy/wet sex, slight degradation mixed with praise, aftercare, emotional vulnerability, mentions of shame, comfort and acceptance, couch sex, dominant reader, riding, possessive language, filthy dirty talk, soft angst and heavy tenderness, detailed anatomical descriptions (afab).

wc: 3k

notes: hi anon! i really hope you enjoy this fic 🩷 i poured a lot of love and care into it🫶🏻it's actually my first time writing something with this kind of theme, so i hope it hits just right hehe~ honestly, i love sub!beomgyu’s dynamic sooo much lmao and i couldn’t resist putting him in this kind of situation... buajajaja >:)

your fingers are soaked with him.

his thighs are trembling, pressed tightly against yours as you rock your hips in a slow, grinding rhythm, dragging your folds against the slick heat of his pussy, rubbing, scissoring, letting your clits kiss and catch with every needy rut of your body. he moans into your mouth, soft and high-pitched, his voice cracking every time you press harder, every time your wetness mixes messily with his. it’s raw, slippery, hot as hell. you can’t stop panting against his lips, can’t stop gripping his hips and pulling him closer like you want to drown in the feel of him.

you didn’t think this would be the night.

his hands claw weakly at your back, nails barely scratching, too overwhelmed to hold you properly. you’re on your couch, his legs wide around you, back half-slumped against the cushions as you fuck him slow, deep, precise. the angle lets you rub perfectly against his clit and you can feel every twitch, every quiver of pleasure that shakes through him when your body slides just right.

"fuck, gyu," you whisper, lips brushing his flushed cheek, your voice heavy, hungry. "you’re so wet—so fucking wet for me."

he whines, his eyes fluttering shut as his head tilts back, throat exposed, glistening with sweat. “i–i c-can’t,” he stutters, breath catching on a sob. “you’re making me—fuck—”

you don’t let him finish.

your hand trails down between your bodies, fingers quick to find his dripping slit. you rub tight circles around his clit with two fingers while your hips keep grinding into him, wet against wet, your bodies slipping and sliding in a mess of slick and sweat and heat. his pussy clenches with every touch, every kiss of pressure, and when you press two fingers in—slow and gentle—his body jerks.

"so tight," you breathe, watching his face twist in pleasure. "you feel so good around my fingers, baby."

his legs shake harder, his voice cracking as he tries to hold in his cries. “n-no, wait—i’m—i’m gonna—”

and then he does.

his pussy flutters around your fingers, then clamps down, hard. his whole body arches and he lets out the most desperate moan, his voice breaking into a sob as he squirts all over your hand, soaking your fingers, your thighs, the cushion under him. it’s messy, intense, overwhelming—and so fucking beautiful.

you keep going, gentle now, fingers moving slowly inside him, helping him ride it out, your lips kissing his jaw, whispering praise into his skin as he trembles beneath you.

it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

you’d only been dating for two months—two months of slow kisses, awkward touches, the kind of nervousness that came with something new and precious. but there was always something different about beomgyu. the way he moved, the softness of his skin, the way his hips fit perfectly under your hands. he was delicate, lean, almost too pretty to be real. you never questioned it, but something in the back of your mind always told you he wasn’t like other boys.

tonight, when you’d pushed him onto your bed and slipped your hand between his legs, you’d felt it. not the hard bulge you were expecting—but warmth. softness. wetness.

he’d panicked, tried to hide himself, eyes wide and tearful, babbling apologies and shame like he thought you’d leave. he looked so small, curled up, trying to cover himself with trembling hands. but all you could think was how badly you wanted to taste him.

you’d never imagined this. never even considered it. but now that you’d seen him, felt him—this soft, sweet boy with the pussy of your dreams—you knew you couldn’t stop.

not now. not ever.

you pull your fingers out slowly, lifting your hand to your mouth, sucking his taste from your fingers while you watch his dazed eyes follow every move. he’s panting, chest heaving, his pussy still twitching, swollen and messy between his thighs.

“you’re perfect,” you murmur, kissing his cheek. “you don’t ever have to hide from me, okay?”

he nods weakly, and when you lower your head between his legs to eat him out, his shaky moan tells you everything you need to hear.

you don’t rush.

you kiss your way down his trembling body, mouthing at the soft skin of his stomach, the sharp dip of his waist, the faint trail of sweat that glistens under the dim lights of your apartment. his hands are in your hair before you even reach his thighs, fingers curling, tugging weakly like he can’t decide if he wants to pull you closer or stop you from seeing him like this again.

but it’s too late for modesty now.

his pussy’s still twitching from the last orgasm, slick and swollen and so fucking beautiful that your mouth waters at the sight. he’s laid out open for you, legs spread, his inner thighs glistening with wetness and the faintest tremor running through him every time you so much as breathe against him.

“look at you,” you whisper, hot breath brushing his folds. “so messy already, baby. can’t believe you were hiding this from me.”

he whimpers, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling in quick little pants. “i was scared…”

you kiss the inside of his thigh, slow and soft.

“don’t be,” you murmur. “you’re the sexiest thing i’ve ever seen.”

and then you bury your mouth in him.

the first lick makes him sob, hands flying to cover his face as your tongue parts his folds, tasting the mess he made, lapping it up like you’ve been starving for it. he’s salty-sweet, warm and wet and addicting. you groan into his cunt, dragging your tongue from his leaking hole to his clit, sucking it gently, then flicking it with the flat of your tongue just to feel the way he jolts under you.

“f-fuck, it’s—too much,” he cries out, thighs closing around your head, but you’re already grabbing his hips, holding him down, not letting him run. he’s shaking so hard now, tiny hiccuped gasps leaving his lips with every movement of your tongue.

you tease your way back down, slipping your tongue into him, fucking him slowly with it as your nose brushes his clit, letting him feel everything all at once.

his legs start to shake again.

“you’re gonna cum again, huh?” you murmur, pulling back just long enough to kiss his puffy lips before diving back in. “give it to me, baby. wanna taste you.”

you bring your fingers back, two sliding in without resistance now, and when they curl inside him and your tongue finds his clit again, he screams.

it’s a full-body collapse.

his back arches clean off the couch, his pussy clenching tight around your fingers, fluttering wildly as he squirts again, harder this time, soaking your face, your chin, your tongue. it’s all over your mouth and you moan into it, drinking it down, not stopping even as he cries out your name in a broken, ragged voice that sounds like he’s falling apart just for you.

his body doesn’t stop shaking.

you lick him clean slowly, gently, kissing his inner thighs as his legs twitch, brushing your lips over his overstimulated clit until he begs you to stop, voice hoarse and tear-streaked.

you pull back, face soaked, heart thudding in your chest.

he looks ruined. spread open, pretty pink pussy glistening, lips red and swollen, eyes glassy and wet. his whole body is flushed and trembling, hands curled into weak fists on the cushions, and he’s looking at you like he doesn’t understand what just happened—but that he wants more.

you crawl back up over him, licking his taste off your lips, and kiss him softly.

he moans into your mouth, shy but hungry, arms wrapping around your shoulders like he never wants to let go.

you don’t move right away.

your body is draped over his, lips ghosting along the curve of his jaw as he tries to come back to himself, chest still heaving like he just ran a marathon. you can feel his heart racing against yours, his pussy twitching beneath you, the slick warmth of him pressed between your thighs like a secret you never knew you needed to have.

he’s quiet now. not trembling the way he was before, but soft, pliant, his hands curled around your arms like he needs you close just to remember where he is.

“still with me?” you whisper, lips brushing against the shell of his ear.

he nods, slow, dazed.

you press a gentle kiss to his temple. “i want more,” you admit, your voice low, almost reverent. “i don’t wanna stop touching you. i can’t.”

his breath hitches. “but… i already—”

“i know,” you murmur, sliding your hand down his side, cupping his waist, loving the way he arches instinctively into your palm. “but i can feel how wet you still are. your pussy’s still pulsing, baby. you need more, don’t you?”

he doesn’t say anything. but his hips move.

barely—a twitch, a shy roll upward, grinding the swollen mess of his cunt against your thigh.

you smile.

“that’s what i thought.”

you shift, settling between his legs again, and this time, you take your time. your fingers trail down slowly, tracing the slick folds, watching the way his lips part, eyes fluttering closed when you tease his clit with the lightest brush of your thumb. his whole body jerks, breath catching in his throat.

“you’re so sensitive,” you coo, dipping one finger into his soaked heat. “but still so hungry.”

he whimpers, legs spreading wider for you without even realizing, like his body is begging for more even if his mouth is too shy to say it.

so you give it to him.

two fingers, slow and deep, curling up into the softest part of him, feeling the way his walls squeeze around you like they never want to let go. he’s tight, warm, absolutely soaked—your palm slippery from how much he’s already given you. and still, he clenches down with every movement, his back arching when you press in deeper, hitting that spot inside him that makes him gasp like he’s drowning.

you keep your thumb on his clit, rubbing in lazy circles, not too hard—but enough to keep him teetering, right there on the edge.

“that’s it,” you whisper. “you’re doing so good for me, baby. taking it so well.”

his hips start to roll against your hand, chasing the friction, little moans slipping from his lips without shame now. he’s lost in it—completely, entirely yours.

and then you feel it.

that sharp little flutter in his pussy, the way his clit starts to throb under your thumb, his whole body tensing all at once like he’s holding something in that’s about to break free.

“let go,” you murmur, pressing your mouth to his trembling thigh. “let me see you again. i wanna feel you cum all over my hand.”

his cry is louder this time.

his pussy spasms around your fingers, his whole body convulsing as he squirts again, wetter than before, his arousal soaking your palm, dripping down his thighs, pooling onto the cushion beneath him. he’s crying now—not from pain, but from how intense it is, how full, how much. it’s overwhelming and beautiful and you can’t stop watching him fall apart.

you keep your fingers inside him, gentle, grounding, helping him through it, whispering sweet filth into his skin.

“so good, gyu. so fucking pretty when you cum. you were made for this, weren’t you? made for me.”

when his body finally goes still, you pull your hand away and lick him off your fingers again, slow and filthy, watching the way his eyes follow your mouth like he’s hypnotized. you lean over him, brushing his damp hair back, kissing his forehead, then his cheek, then finally his lips.

he kisses you back like he’s never been kissed before.

and you kiss him.

slow and deep, tasting the aftershocks still clinging to his breath, feeling the way his fingers twitch against your bare back as he melts into you again. his lips part for you like instinct, like need, like he’s forgotten how to breathe unless it’s through your mouth.

you shift in his lap, one knee on either side of his hips, and the sound he makes when he feels your cunt rub down against his is fucking filthy. it’s wet, so wet—his pussy still gushing from the last orgasm, yours slick with heat and aching, throbbing with how bad you need to feel him again.

your clits brush, and his back arches.

“nghh—f-fuck, wait—” his voice is cracked, high-pitched, trembling with too much sensation—but you can tell he doesn’t want to stop. his hands are clutching at your thighs, your waist, anything he can hold as you rock your hips slowly, sliding your folds against his in a perfect, wet grind that makes both of you moan into each other’s mouths.

“look at us,” you whisper, forehead pressed to his, your lips brushing as you speak. “so wet, so messy... you feel that, gyu?”

you shift again, angling your hips until your pussies are flush—wet lips parting, sliding together in a rhythm that makes your stomach tighten. and when your clits line up, and you press down hard—it’s over for him.

he throws his head back, eyes wide and glassy, mouth falling open in a silent cry.

“fuckfuckfuck—!” his whole body trembles beneath you as you start to grind down in earnest, slow and deep, dragging your cunt against his with steady pressure. the mess between your bodies grows louder, wetter, filthier with every pass of your slicks—your clits swollen and raw, folds soaked, juices mixing until it’s impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins.

he’s babbling now, incoherent, pleading.

“please—i can’t—feels s-so good, too good—!”

you reach down, take his wrists, and pin them above his head as you lean in closer, grinding even harder, deeper, the friction like molten heat between you. your tits brush his chest, your nose nudging against his, and you keep your eyes locked on his face, drinking in every reaction, every tremble, every cry.

“yes, you can,” you whisper, breath hot against his lips. “you can take it, baby. you were made for this.”

and it’s true—he was made for this. for the way your cunt presses into his, for the obscene wet sounds of your bodies sliding together, for the flush spreading down his chest and the tears spilling from the corners of his eyes.

you start rocking faster.

your hips rolling in tight, messy circles, the pressure building so fast it makes your legs shake. beomgyu is clenching his fists, tears running down his cheeks, completely overwhelmed and wide open beneath you—and you’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

“i’m gonna cum,” you breathe, forehead to his, lips trembling. “fuck, baby, i’m gonna cum just like this. right on your pussy.”

he chokes on a sob. “me too—i-i’m gonna—fuck, i’m cumming—!”

and then it happens.

his pussy spasms under you, and yours goes tight right after—clit throbbing, body locking up as the orgasm hits you both like a wave. you grind through it, crying out into each other’s mouths, the slick mess between you growing hotter, wetter, until you’re both shaking, panting, completely wrecked and still pressed together, cunt to cunt, heartbeat to heartbeat.

you collapse over him, bodies fused, sweat and slick and tears between you, and for a long moment, neither of you move.

you just feel—the twitch of his pussy, the aftershocks in your thighs, the way your hearts beat in sync.

and then you kiss him again.

slow. sweet. like worship.

you hold him like that for a while.

his body curled into yours on the couch, still bare, still warm, still soft and wet where your thighs press together. you cradle his head against your chest, fingers tracing idle lines along his spine, and he doesn’t speak. he just breathes, slow and steady, like being in your arms is the only thing keeping him whole.

and maybe it is.

because something did shift tonight.

you didn’t expect this. didn’t expect beomgyu’s secret, didn’t expect your reaction to it. you should’ve been shocked, maybe confused. but all you felt—when you saw the truth, when he tried to hide himself in shame, when you reached between his legs and felt the heat and slickness and softness of him—was this sharp, aching hunger. this pull that made your whole body go tight with want.

and now that you’ve had it, now that you’ve tasted him, felt him, seen the way his body breaks for you—there’s no going back.

you don’t just want beomgyu.

you crave him.

you tilt his chin up gently, looking into his eyes. they’re puffy, red from tears and pleasure, but there’s something raw in them too. something scared.

“hey,” you say softly. “you okay?”

he nods, silent, but his lip trembles a little.

“talk to me.”

his voice is barely there. “i didn’t know if you’d want me after… after you saw.”

you swallow hard, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“baby,” you whisper, “i’ve never wanted you more.”

and it’s true.

his voice is a whisper. “i thought you’d freak out.”

you tilt your head, stroking his cheek. “why?”

he shrugs, looking away. “girls don’t usually want someone like me. they get weird. they get mean.”

you stare at him. at the softness of his lashes, the pink flush still on his cheeks, the way his lips tremble when he’s scared but trying not to be.

“they’re fucking idiots,” you say quietly.

he looks back at you, eyes wide.

“you’re the hottest, sweetest thing i’ve ever touched,” you continue, voice shaking just a little. “and you trusted me. that means more than anything.”

he blinks. his eyes fill again.

“you don’t think it’s weird?”

you lean in, kiss him like a promise.

“i think it’s fucking perfect.”

his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you down until your face is against his neck, and you feel his breath catch again, little hitching sobs that aren’t sad this time.

you hold him tighter.

because tonight, in your apartment, on your couch, with the boy who has the softest pussy you’ve ever touched, you’ve discovered something you didn’t know you needed.

[eden031]

First meetings

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Pairing: Jack Abbot x intern!f!reader

Warnings: Jack POV, age gap, voilence against healthcare workers, violence against violent patients, talks of murder, trauma response, Jack is working through his emotional constipation, realisation of feelings, angst, Jack Abbot it down baaaaaad.

Summary: After his intern is attacked by a patient Jack Abbot has to face the fact that pushing people away might not always lead to the best outcome.

A/N: Okay, so this is lowkey a miracle…I don‘t know how I was able to write it this quickly, but here is the Jack POV companion chapter to Part 5, also we get some insight into things reader did not know about. Sooo, there will be two more chapters, mabye more, I don‘t know, I just love them your honor. Also I feel like I could also write this entire series from Jack‘s POV for a second time because it was so fun to work through how he feels about this situation and how he handles it. Hope you enjoy this :)

Shift change had gone smoothly for once, a relief if he was honest with himself. Though there was a small voice in the back of his head telling him not to trust the calm. Shaking his head he tried to get rid of the feeling that had attached itself to his mind like a tick, looking over at one of the work stations he saw his intern standing there. A chart clutched in her hands, her brows furrowed while she read through it.

Suppressing a smile at her expression he glanced at the chart in his hands. It was strangely empty for a Friday afternoon, usually it would be flooded with people that had done something stupid to start off the weekend. He hoped for the best regarding traumas, he was not sure if she could handle another day where people died like flies. The deaths had not hurt him, not really, he had gotten used to it by now, of course they stung, but that pain he had seen in her eyes was long gone from his mind. Still, when he had seen her empty stare and seen the tears he had felt so helpless. It was something he hated more than anything, he was usually in control, usually in charge of the situations he was in, but at that moment he felt like he had lost all sense of control.

He simply couldn’t resist anymore, comforting her, checking in on her, it had taken all the will he could gather in his bones not to call her back then. Too young, too bright, too much goodness ahead in her life to waste time and energy on someone like him. That was what he had told himself for almost a month, but the moment he had seen her in the Pitt it had started to crack, that wall he had built, the excuses stacked on top of each other began to fade away.

Every time half a granola bar was pressed in his hand by her his walls cracked further. There was no point in denying it anymore, especially not now.

In his peripheral he saw someone move, though did not think anything of it until a screech cut through the air. His head snapped up and he saw the figure of a large man shoving Princess to the ground, continuing his way towards someone, he started moving quickly. The only person that might have gone in that direction was his intern.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!” The guy hollered at the person he seemed to be stalking towards, suddenly cold sweat began to trickle down his spine, he moved quicker, but it was already too late. The guy grabbed his intern, a hand around her throat was all he could see. “YOU FUCKING SLUT! YOU THINK YOU ARE BETTER THAN ME! I WILL KILL YOU!”

"Security!" he shouted as he moved in closer, terror pumping through his system like he was the one under attack, his movements seemed to slow down as his mind singled in on the image of the large hand wrapped around her throat. The shouting from security began, but he couldn’t reach her, it was too far, he was too slow. Suddenly a sharp movement, he had not seen what it had been, but the guy let go of her, stumbled backwards hollering in pain and then he saw her swing. Her fist connected with the guy’s face, an almost thundering crack sounded through the ED. He stumbled backwards, crumbling to the ground. Jack saw the way his head hit the ground, another cracking sound, blood began to pool underneath the man’s head.

Worry seeped into his mind as he moved quickly, he called her name, but her eyes were fixed on the crumpled form of the man on the ground. Again he called her name, this time she looked up at him.

“Are you okay? Can you take a deep breath for me?” he asked, still she simply stared at him, that empty look in her eyes he had seen countless times in the heat of battle.

Gently he said her name again, his hands twitched as he carefully took her face in his hands. Guilt and regret washing over him as he spoke again. He should have paid more attention, he should have been quicker.

“Hey,” he gently squeezed her face, “Are you okay?” he felt his brows furrowing, gentle relief came of him as he saw her eyes regain focus.

“What?” she whispered, hot tears running down her cheeks, brushing past his thumbs. His heart clenched, from the corner of his eye he could see a few nurses and Robby crouched around the man. Robby looked up at him, giving him a soft nod, telling him to take care of her. He could feel her trying to turn her head back towards where the man was laying, but he tightened his grip. It would only make things worse if she would panic about the asshole’s state of well being.

“Don’t look there,” he tried to be as gentle as possible while he spoke, still cradling her face in his hands like it was the most precious thing he had ever held. A few shuddering breaths came from her, with every single one he could feel his heart crack a little.

“I think I need to sit down,” she spoke so softly that it was almost impossible to hear her over the commotion, but he just nodded. Not wanting to let go he moved his hand between her shoulderblades, the other one he rested on her shoulder, gently guiding her towards the nearest chair in the nurses’ station. The empty look had returned to her eyes, a look he knew he never wanted to see again. He should have been quicker, shaking his head slightly he tried to get rid of those thoughts, he could sulk when she was alright. Crouching down in front of her he took her hand, first tapping it, though when her eyes did not seem to come into focus from that he tapped her thigh, his heart clenched as her eyes still did not come into focus. He repeated those actions, trying to get her attention, then finally her eyes seemed to focus and she looked down at him.

“Alright, listen,” he tapped her hand and thigh again, he did not know why, but it seemed like she could lose focus again at any given moment. “I am going to put you in line for an x-ray and a CT for now, just to make sure that nothing is broken or damaged otherwise.” he could barely hang on to his composure, feeling like he might snap at any given moment. His eyes found the bruise, the deep purple handprint around her neck, it made his stomach churn as he thought that this could have turned out so much worse. “While we wait for an x-ray we are going to ice your hand, okay?”

She nodded, slowly he got up from the awkward crouching position he had been sitting in. He was about to walk away to get the ice pack when he felt her grip on his hand tighten slightly. Stopping, he tilted his head in her direction, thinking that maybe she would want him to get something else along with the ice pack. Though then she looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy, lower lip trembling as she looked at him.

“Please don’t leave me,” her voice was so soft, a crack in her words. He felt his heart shatter, his sweet intern, she should never have had to experience this.

“Alright,” he nodded, stopping in his tracks, then looking around, spotting Mateo standing near them. Quickly he waved him over.

“Could you get her an ice pack? And call radiology for that x-ray and CT scan,” he had spoken softly to the nurse, but his focus was back on her quickly. Slowly crouching down again he felt her clinging to his hand like it was the only thing keeping her in the moment. He squeezed back, trying to give her some kind of comfort but that empty look on her face returned, the tear stains were enough to break his heart, to make him want to pull her close and tell her that everything would be okay.

“I treated him,” she whispered, her voice breaking again. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” This time her voice was shaking more violently. Tears began to run down her cheeks again. A quiet sob, then it happened quickly, loud sobs and more hot tears, quiet croaks. His heart shattered as he tried to comfort her. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” She repeated it like it was a mantra, like she was trying to find something that could explain what had happened. His stomach churned as she sobbed softly. Slowly he moved to stand, panic flashed over her face, but dissipated as he pulled her into a hug. It was an odd angle and his back would hate him for it the moment he was able to stand straight again, but right now it was what felt right. Not caring about the way Dana glanced over at him with an amused smile or how Mateo seemed mildly flustered as he brought him the ice pack, telling him that they had bumped her up as best as they could. He could feel the snot and tears seeping into his shirt as one hand found its way into her hair, gently brushing through it, his chin resting on top of her head.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, you did everything right,” he whispered, “You did so well,” he gently rubbed her scalp, trying to get her to calm down a little, “You did so well,”

He remained in that position for what felt like hours until Mateo came back to get her for the x-ray. As he pulled away he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, her eyes were glazed over at this point and her hand easily slipped from his.

Nausea settled in his stomach as he helped Mateo transfer her into a wheelchair, she didn’t really protest as she was wheeled away. Though he could see her head twitching to look around. It was almost like she didn’t really realise what had happened right now, like her mind had gone into a complete shutdown.

Leaning against a table he pressed the heels of his palms into his eye sockets, letting out a long sigh. Guilt and worry weighed heavy on him. He should have been faster, he should have reacted quicker, hell he should have known something was up the moment the damn shift transfer had gone without a hitch.

“You okay, brother?” Robby spoke softly from beside him. Crossing his arms over his chest he looked at his long time friend.

“Yeah,” he nodded, though his voice sounded rough, like he was about to start crying. He cleared his throat, trying to get his usual tone back.

“You sure about that?” Robby looked at him with that really worried expression, usually only reserved for when he was standing on the ledge of the roof.

“Fucking hell, Robby,” he muttered, looking around the nurses’ station was relatively empty, barely anyone there, “He attacked my intern,” it sounded a lot more possessive than he had wanted it to sound, though right now he did not really care.

“He did,” Robby nodded, “Though she got him pretty good,” Robby spoke softly, “Hit him so hard that some of the bone fragments were shoved towards his brain,” a moment of silence, “And he also has a skull fracture from falling,”

“Serves him right,” Jack spoke, the anger in his voice now less controlled than before, Robby glanced at him for a moment, worry evident in his eyes, but a certain curiosity seemed to linger there as well.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Robby sounded more concerned about his well being at the moment than the well being of his intern and for some reason that made him furious.

“I am not the one that needs to talk right now,” he snapped at Robby, which made a few people turn their heads. Robby raised an eyebrow, then his hands.

“Alright, if you say so,” he nodded, though their conversation was disturbed by Dana calling out.

“Gloria incoming,” the charge nurse sounded almost as pleased as if someone had told her that all of the staff had called in sick half an hour before shift started.

“Great,” Robby muttered, “I will do the talking,” he gave Jack a warning glare as he saw Gloria marching towards them.

“I heard an intern of yours punched a patient?” she sounded angry, which made Jack’s blood boil. As he was about to open his mouth Robby put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a warning glare.

“Yes, but it was in self defence. He was choking her and threatening to kill her,” Robby sounded so calm about this. Jack tried to see the rational side to this, tried to tell himself that yelling at Gloria was not going to change what had happened.

“If you wait another ten minutes you might see her and her neck with a bruise in the shape of a fucking hand on it,” Jack spoke in a tone as measured as he could. Though he was pretty sure that he still sounded very angry, especially since Gloria looked at him like he was insane.

“Alright,” she nodded, “Have you asked her if she wants to press charges?” she crossed her arms in front of her chest. A snort came from both Jack and Robby at the same time.

“She was practically catatonic when they took her up to radiology,” Robby said in a quiet tone.

“The only thing she said for the past,” Jack looked at his watch, “forty five minutes was various variations of ‘I didn’t do anything wrong’ and ‘He was just a mean patient’” Jack gave Gloria a long, hard stare. The anger slowly ebbing away again, it was replaced by worry again, the worry that she wouldn’t be okay again. That this incident would make her unable to work in this ED ever again.

“She treated him a few weeks ago,” Robby elaborated, “From what some other staff said he was being incredibly rude to the female workers,”

“Gosh,” Gloria rubbed her face, Jack suppressed a snarky comment about Robby having told her multiple times already that shit like this happens when she continues to cut budget on the ED.

“Radiology just called, Mateo is bringing her down again, results should be here within twenty minutes max, you want me to call Tommy to pick her up?” Dana chimed in from the side. Both Jack and Robby nodded at that.

——————

Tommy had picked her up shortly after the results from radiology had come in, nothing was broken, no serious tissue damage. She had still been in that state of dissociation when Tommy had taken her home with care instructions given by Jack and Robby.

He had stayed in the hospital for the rest of day shift, he couldn’t go home. It didn’t feel right, he just couldn’t bring himself to go home.

Leaning against the railing of the roof he looked down on the streets below, the buzz of people below making him less agitated. Still even as he looked down he was wondering what he could have done, if he could have been quicker. It felt like his brain was playing that moment in a loop, if he had looked up when he had seen the movement from the corner of his eye and realised that it was a patient he could have been fast enough. Though at that moment it had not seemed to be an issue.

He should have been quicker, he should have been able to do something, not just move too slowly when her life was in danger. That expression on her face haunted him, that emptiness, the usual kind and gentle features just completely blank. The way she had clung to him like he was the only thing keeping her in this reality had shattered something in him. Shattered these walls he had been trying to keep up. Hell he knew the moment that he wouldn’t be able to keep them up when he had felt that burning hot rage in his stomach when she had joked around with Tommy for the first time.

From the moment she had stumbled in the Pitt he knew that the work he had been putting in keeping away from her for over a month would be for nothing. If he had never seen her again it might have worked, but the moment she had looked at him, eyes wide with shock, he knew that he had already lost. Running his hands through his hair he let out a long sigh. Maybe he had been too pig headed to admit that to himself until now, he probably had been. It had been there from the moment they had first met. He still remembered her appearing beside him, ordering him a refill for his drink. He still remembered thinking that she would leave again if he acted grumpy enough, but he couldn’t, not with those eyes staring right into his very being.

“Not thinking of jumping today?” Robby’s voice sounded tight, he knew that his friend was trying to joke, but both of them knew that this was not why Robby was on the roof.

“No,” Jack paused, “Thinking about the least suspicious way to kill that guy,” he grumbled under his breath as he continued to wring his hands together, like it might give him some peace of mind.

“Don’t think you are the only one trying to figure that out. So, are you going to tell me what that was back down there?” Robby leaned against the railing beside him.

“What do you mean?” At least he could pretend to play dumb for a little while. He knew Robby had sniffed out something was wrong the second he had cradled her face in his hands like it was the most precious thing he had ever held.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Robby gave him that kind of look that he would give patients if he knew they were not telling the entire truth.

“Robby,” Jack sighed deeply, running a hand over his face, a low groan escaped his lips. He knew that he would have to come clean with someone at some point. He had heard the rumours, the bets, he knew that people suspected things about them and he had not made it any better with the way he had acted today. In his inner eye he could already see money being handed around.

“Fuck,” he drew out the u so long that it felt silly to some degree. He knew Robby was probably the safest person to talk to, but hell, he hadn’t even talked to his therapist about it. He hadn’t told anyone about it except for the ceiling of his bedroom.

“That does not sound good,” Robby sounded amused, like he was curious about the entire situation.

“Robby…” Jack turned his head to look at his friend, he was not even sure how to start explaining this, how does one tell another person that they met a subordinate at a bar before ever interacting with them in a professional setting and that said meeting did not only involve talking.

“I care about her,” was all that came out of his mouth. He knew that Robby would want more information than that, though he also knew that Robby would have to pry certain parts of his feelings out of his cold, dead hands if he wanted to have them.

“That much is obvious,” Robby sounded like he wanted to grab him by the scrubs and shake him.

“Jesus fucking christ, Robby,” Jack sighed, rubbing his face again. The guilt, anger, worry and all the emotions of the past day and weeks started to accumulate, they all started to build up and he knew that he needed to do something. He had wanted to keep her out, wanted to make sure that she didn’t get too close, but now he realised that it was too late, he really was a stubborn old man, just like she had said.

“I really got soft, didn’t I?” he laughed as he shook his head. He knew Robby would immediately pick up on the fact that he was trying to steer the conversation away from her. The next words coming from his friend’s mouth felt like a punch to the gut.

“No, you didn’t get soft.” there was a short pause, “You were always soft for her,”

He felt like a cornered animal, he knew he could just tell Robby everything, tell Robby the truth, but he knew that if he did, there was no coming back. It felt like it was the last piece of the wall that had been chipped away, like this would be the last stone that could fall before she could just step right into his most guarded of places. Shaking his head he realised that it had already happened, he just didn’t want to accept it. She had not taken that wall down bit by bit from the outside, no she had climbed over it the first time they had met and began to chip away at it from the inside.

“Yeah, you are right,” he nodded, wringing with his hands, “You know when I first saw her in the ED, I thought, what is she doing here?” a laugh escaped him. Taking a long breath he shook his head, he was really going to tell Robby about this. Though it felt right, to do it on the roof, it was almost like ‘what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas’.

“When we first met she told me that she just finished med school, but did you think in that first second of seeing her I connected the dots?” Robby didn’t say anything. He simply listened, Jack ran his hand over his face.

“It’s weird, you know, I was trying so hard to leave her behind, leave the memory of her in the past, but she haunted me, so when I saw her in the Pitt at first I thought I was slowly losing it. Not the war, not the pain and suffering I saw, no a woman was making me lose my mind,” a snort came from him.

“Oh, but she was real,” he shook his head, it was like all that what he had wanted to tell someone was now beginning to flow.

“I really thought I could avoid it. I really thought that pushing her away in the first place wasn’t going to come back to bite me in the ass down the road.”

At that comment Robby laughed.

“So what happened down there? I think I realised that trying to keep her out was pointless because she had slipped in far too long ago,”

He remembered her hand on his face when they laid in his bed, the blanket wrapped around them, their legs tangled together, how beautifully she had smiled at him and told him that she wanted to freeze the moment in time. At that moment he had wanted nothing else, he had wanted nothing more than to keep her there with him, never let her leave. He hadn’t known why exactly and even now he didn’t really understand it, but it had been so easy then and it still was.

Now it was all he craved, to have her by his side, never having to let go of her ever again. Being able to see that smile every time he went to bed and every time he woke up.

A warm hand landed on his shoulder, Robby gave him a smile, a smile that showed that he understood. Hell, Robby was probably the person that would understand this situation the most, the person that might actually be able to say something that made it less painful.

“I think I don’t have to tell you what you should do,” Robby simply patted him on the shoulder again, slowly walking away from the railing. Leaving him standing there, knowing that that he had lost the battle with himself long ago.

—————

Tags: @antisocialfiore @fudosl @smileykiddie08 @darksparklesficrecs @tommosgirl06 @rosieposie88

[jweekgoji]

Yandere!Five/Reader.

wow how long has it been? two years since I wrote something for TUA? I still haven't rewatched it since I'm finally catching up with breaking bad but I hope I'll rewatch TUA next week or so. for some strange reason I feel that weird feeling like I need to come back to my fav fictional family with bread and milk and concentrate on it ughhh. when I rewatch it I will check that requests I had before for TUA and will finish them!

tw: yandere Five, unhealthy obsession, mentions of the reader's death, Five has ZERO moments of peace here, angst, controlling Five, mentions of Five's childhood, sort of happy ending?

I'm probably describing my thoughts sooo bad don't be mad please

Like we know, Reginald wasn't afraid to use his own «children» for every heroic mission. Bank robbery? He'll make a 14 year old kids deal with it. Some villains are trying to cause problems? Well, another time to test Number 1's leadership skills, no time for a happy childhood, kiddos! And that is basically what their life is.

Basically, the only source from which they can get the feeling of being needed, loved by the public, and recognized, if not by their father but by the citizens. Reginald trained them well, as long as there are 6 of them, they can deal with any kind of problem. I mean, come on, they're THE Hargreeves, one of the strongest people in the world who have unique superpowers, it's not like something might go wrong one day.

Five was always the most compatible member of the team, always trying to be the best. Despite only being the fifth in the ranking, it doesn't stop him from showing off every time he taunts another criminal, making them lose their minds in attempts to catch him.

It was another day when he and his siblings would find a criminal to deal with. Everything went smoothly, as Luther would discuss the plan with everyone. Klaus and Ben would be outside waiting for the signal, Allison and Luther would be the ones to distract the criminals from the hostages and Diego should disarm them before causing any serious trouble. Five would be the one who would save the hostages.

I think his abilities help the most in such situations. He can teleport any person away in just seconds and lead them into safety, no one would even notice. And if something happens, Five is capable enough to fight by himself.

You are the last hostage he protects now. He had already saved more than 10 people non-stop before, and for some reason, his powers refused to work. It's not like he is weak or something, no, no, just give him some time to catch his breath, and he will continue in a moment! He can't let someone see him like this, let alone let his father find out about this little problem.

He would huff and puff about it, probably imagining how Diego or Klaus were teasing him, how Five was losing his cool and accidentally forgetting how his own powers were working due to what a pretty little hostage Five talked to! And they're close to his age too, so it would be natural for his age to get shy and awkward in front of someone cute he found~! Well, at least it's exactly what he imagines hearing from Klaus after the mission.

Five wasn't quiet around people, usually. He enjoys talking with his siblings, well, with some of them—and he finds it amusing to toy with criminals.

For some reason, he is quiet around you.

Of course, he would try to reassure you that everything is fine, he is a good guy here, and soon enough, you would be safe. The only thing you have to do is just listen to him and follow his lead.

He didn't suspect everything, of course, and was so full of himself even at such an age, thinking nothing would go wrong. You were around his age, and naturally, despite being an arrogant little brat, he did find you quite cute. Maybe, if he had a different life, he would have approached you in different circumstances.

But Five learned the hard way that he's not the strongest and could never be the number one. He would never be able to save everyone. He just stopped paying attention for a one damn second, and the next thing he heard, was a gunshot. Five could feel your hand slipping away from his own, and he would look back just in time to see you almost stumbling, only to catch you in his own arms. Blood painted his dark blue uniform in red.

After that incident, Five became more obsessed with the idea of time travelling. If at first he wanted to prove to his father that he is capable of much more, to show that he's actually much better than everyone, this idea also feeds off his guilt. His first mistake, the only time he failed to do his task. And he just can't let go of it, no matter how much Viktor tries to tell him that it's really not his fault, that he couldn't predict it.

And then, during dinner, he runs away, despite Viktor silently begging him not to do it. Then he blinks again, again, and again, until it's nothing but ruins surrounding him. Until The Handler decides to pay him a visit, expect that he will probably be much more calculative and controlling. 40 years of being alone did it's horrible job on his mind, every day trying to survive while thinking about a possible way out of this situation. Maybe, if he makes much better calculations, he will actually succeed. But being away from humanity for so long makes him crave human contact, he already had that mannequin, Dolores, he could find, talking every day to her about how he actually missed his family, how he wants at least some kind of sick normalcy he had back in the academy. At least he had a place to live without worrying every day about his own survival.

During these moments, where he actually gives himself some time to be weak, he wonders would he still do this if you were still alive? Would he still risk everything just to make his father proud?

He didn't know much about you before. The police shortly said that day that one of the employees had a child in the building, and they were taken hostages by the villains. You were around his age, a young, probably promising student in your normal school, with caring parents and friends who worried about you. Something he craved deeply, even though he would have never admitted it.

When he couldn't have teleported you away safely, he led you through the second way out. He can tell you were scared. Of course, who wouldn't be? It's not like you were used to it. He isn't the gentlest person, more like focused on the business and how to end it all as fast as possible. But you were shaking mess, asking from time to time if it's safe or is actually everything okay? Five, in his some kind of nonchalant and gruff manner, would only nod, reassuring you that his siblings probably dealt with the villains by that time.

You looked so normal for him. You had no powers, no one made you train every day just to bend you into their high expectations, you didn't have to compete for someone's love and approval. You acted like he's just a normal person too, never bothering him with questions about his brothers or a sister, not trying to peek into some secret life of the Hargreeves family. Do you even know who he is?

Eventually, he can't remember who exactly started the dialogue. Was it you, who just wanted to talk about something so boring like your school life, or like that you probably skipped a few classes and missed a math test? Or was it him, remembering his trainings how he should try to make the worried and scared hostage less afraid by making a small talk with them? He's too old to remember every single detail. But he certainly remembered that he at least listened to what you said to him. That he was actually looking at you, giving you his full attention.

Maybe if he was born into a normal family, he would have had a chance to live that normal life with you. But that would be too kind to wish for, wasn't it? Now, that his hands are covered in blood of so many innocent people he had to kill, asking for a normal life is impossible. Even after taking hundreds of lives, he still can't understand why is the sight of yours in his hands any different? He thought he would be used to it by now. What kind of evil God makes him see it over and over again, in every goddamn timeline?

First, it was a villain killing you right in front of him. Second, it was the Swedes who killed you the next day they saw Five trying to talk to you. He almost lost his mind when he spotted you living near the same hotel where his siblings and he decided to stay. But once again, the more problems just followed, leading to another damn disaster to take you away.

When he lost his powers, he didn't know if he should feel relieved or more concerned about it. Of course, that means that he probably has to find Reginald, to get more answers about what the hell happened in this new universe. But that also meant that he finally has a chance to live like a normal person too. Like you did.

He was unfamiliar with this world. He felt lost, humiliated most of the time now that everyone treat him like he's actually younger than he is. At least people stopped treating him like a child, yet he still has to deal with someone underestimating him. He has to find a job, a place to live, for God's sake, how the hell is he going to live without any documents here?

The fate seemed to be connecting you two once again, as it seemed. You would meet him accidentally, one time you just saw him visiting a café you were working for and the same process would repeat again. This time, he would actually remember every single little detail. He would approach you first, carefully and as politely as he could. He still thinks that if he makes even the smallest mistake, he would experience your loss once again. This time he won't screw up, he would plan everything strictly to his scenario. Your meeting, your first date, your first 'I love you'. You might think he's just the most perfect guy you ever met, which actually... would not be so far from the truth? ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

[spacebaby1]

hiyaaa

Can I ask Rindou's reaction to the fact that his partner is expecting his child?

and for more drama (I'm a dramatic girl and I love drama) you could have Rindou's partner hide the situation from him

drama, angst but happy ending 😝

Hiii! Bestie, I got you! One thing about me is that I live for drama in writing 🎀😌🫱🏻‍🫲🏼 let's start!

You and Rindou never had an argument because he always listened to you, but that didn't last long. You couldn't even remember what escalated the whole conversation into an argument, which led to Rindou slamming the door behind him as he left you'd house last night. The whole night you couldn't sleep not until the sun was out and your eyes gave up from all the crying; you weren't even sure why you were feeling emotional usually it's hard to make you cry. Anyways, you fell asleep around the early hours of the day after shutting your phone completely.

All the crying tired your body to no end that you ended up sleeping until late afternoon. Around four in the afternoon you woke up with a painful headache and aching in your abdomen and before you could grab your phone you felt your stomach turned and you ran to the bathroom, throwing up for a good half an hour before you sat on the bathroom floor.

The memories of yesterday's argument came rushing to you after you were back in your room sitting on your bed with your head in your hands. You weren't feeling well at all and thought the argument took a toll on you so bad that you were about to get sick. You didn't question the vomiting because it was how you'd react if you had a heated argument; it was natural body response to you. Finally, picking up your phone, you turned it on only for Rindou's texts. Fill your screen, followed by numerous of missed calls:

My love: Baby are you okay?

Look, I'm really sorry for shouting at you. I just lost control. But it wasn't your fault. It was me. Please forgive me?

My love:Darling? Can I call you?

*missed call*

*missed call*

My love: baby please answer me, at least end the ringing so I'll know you can see my calls.

My love: I'm so soo sooo sorry

My love: I can't sleep after I made you upset, I'm an idiot! I wish I can hold you right now...

My love: Are you sleeping, sweetie? Good night, my beautiful baby.

12:23 P.M

My love: baby? Sweetheart? Please text back.

My love: at least tell me you're not hurt I'm fucking going insane!

My love: y/n! Baby, I'm sorry!

3:50 P.M

My love: I'm worried about you angel, text me! It's not your usual self to sleep this much.

My love: Can I come by? I'm sorry baby, please don't give me the silent treatment. I'm so sorry, and i would apologize a thousand times if it means you'll forgive me the thousandth time."

He must've seen you reading the texts, and before you could reply, he called you. You sighed and answered, "Baby? Baby, are you okay?" You heard his tired voice. It wasn't until you answered that you realised how sore your throat was, "hi," it came out almost as a whisper before your cough holding the phone away a bit. Rindou panicked at the sound of your tired voice and coughing, "I'm coming over-"

"No, please not now," you replied in a low voice, "I'm not feeling well, just-just- I nee-" you were crying again, he heard you snuffling. "D-dont cry," now he was crying, You shook your head as if he could see you, "I'm so sorry, I hurt you. "I'm so sorry and i would apologize a thousand times if it means you'll forgive me the thousandth time. Just let me see you."

"Please, Rindou. I need space."

"You're not breaking up with me, are you?" He asked with a shaking voice. "No, Rin, I just need to be alone now." You heard his little sigh, "Okay, baby. Did you just wake up? You sound tired, let me order you some food-"

"No, Rin. I can-"

"No, please. At least let me do what I'm supposed to do as your boyfriend. Let me take care of you?" He sounded defeated, but you loved how he always took care of you No matter where he was. "Okay, I love you." You could almost hear his smile when you said that, "I love you more baby, call me if you need anything." You hung up and rubbed your forehead. The next two days were blurry because of how exhausted and sick you were. Usually, you'd let the fever go away, but it kept getting worse to the point that you couldn't put food down in your stomach.

On the third day you decided to visit the doctors and run some blood test to make sure it isn't anything serious and you wish it wasn't what you heard. "Miss Y/n? The blood test shows that everything is fine, just a slight changes in BP but it's normal at this stage."

"Huh? What do you mean at this stage?" You asked the doctor, and she looked at you confused then back at the chart that she was holding. "The pregnancy, you are three months pregnant, Y/n. Did you not know that?" Your eyes widened, and you could barely hear anything after that. Suddenly, it hit you. You were late, and you've been feeling so much different.

"I'm pregnant? Three mo-month?" You whispered more to yourself than a question to your doctor. The doctor nodded, "it explains that vomiting and the abdominal pain, are you okay?"

You got up, " Can you do an ultrasound? Can i see it?"

The doctor nodded, "Sure, if you'd want to."

You almost cried when you saw the screen of your ultrasound, "This is the baby." She pointed at the screen, and you smiled, forgetting the whole world the moment you saw your baby, "do you want the prints?" You nodded, whipping your happy tears away. It wasn't until you got home and saw the picture of you and Rindou on your phone screen is when your smile dropped; Rindou will not take the news well, you thought to yourself and you thought you were doing a good job at avoiding his texts and calls; it was a bad idea because he only grew more concerned about your relationship.

It was another day of you feeling absolutely horrible and vomiting all morning until your stomach was in knots. You heard the frantic bell ringing, followed by knocking on the front door. Groaning you got up holding your stomach with one hand as to you made your way towards the front door without asking who it was you opend the door slowly only to find Rindou standing there with tired eyes and looking panicked. He immediately gathered you in his arms making you yelp in surprise of how hard he was holding you; one of his hands on the back of your head and the other hilding you by the shoulder, "how could you avoid me for two weeks? I'm going insane thinking about you, baby. Why do you hate me so much? Fuck! I missed you." You gasped for air, "Ri, you are c-cruching me, I'm in pain-" He immediately let go and you almost fell on the ground passing out but he held you to his chest as you caught your breath, "you gonna crush me to death?" You asked in a low voice and groaned in pain holding your stomach. "Did I hurt you? I am so sorry, baby." He picked you up bridle style and headed towards your room, carefully placing you on your bed before sitting beside you and checking your forehead, "baby? You're burning." You shook your head, holding his hand in yours, "it's nothing, just an upset stomach. W-what are you doing here?" You asked, feeling yourself drifting to sleep. He sat on the floor next to the bed, kissed your hand, "you haven't text back for two weeks. I was worried, and you're sick yet you didn't call me?"

You shook your head, "I went to the doctors, it's nothing just a stomachache, it'll go by it's own." Rindou shook his head, "No, let me take care of you, do you wanna eat something?"

"I can't, I'll throw up, and it only hurt my stomach more, I just need to lay down." You said almost in a whisper before eventually falling back asleep, still holding Rindou's hands. "My baby," he kissed your forehead before running to get some cold cloth and place it on your forehead. Since you were sleeping, he decided to tide up your vanity a bit since you couldn't do it, and he noticed your things everywhere.

Rindou picked your make-up and placed them to the side, then your accessories which he put away in the box, and he grabbed your other things and opend the drawer to put them away only to find the ultrasound prints next to the results. His heart started beating fast as he took the picture in hand, eyes wide open he read it again and again making sure what he was looking at was indeed a baby and the test had your name on it. You were pregnant, and he felt his eyes blurred when he saw the date; it was a two and half week old test. He could hold back his sobs as he looked at the ultrasound prints. He was trying not to wake you up with his sobbing and he was shaking so hard that he had to sit down on the floor because he didn't trust his knees to hold him standing; he's gonna be a father? Did you even want the baby? Why didn't you tell him?

He sobbed for an hour before making his way towards you and softly kissing your forehead which made you wake up, and you blinked at him. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand with tears falling from his eyes which made you immediately sit on your bed, "Rinny? Wh-why are you crying? What's wrong?" You cupped his puffy face in your weak hands as your eyes met with his hand holding the ultrasound prints in his hands as more tears fell from his beautiful eyes, "Why didn't you tell me? I'm I not en-" you hugged him closer feeling yourself about to cry, "Don't say that, please." You whispered and he hugged you.

You both stayed like that for minutes and on until Rindou whipped his tears and sat beside you on the bed, with you covered with the blanket and head resting on his chest while he couldn't stop smiling at the picture of your baby. "I'm sorry I wasn’t there for this." You shook your head cuddling closer, "you seem happy." He looked down at you and wrapped his arms around you, "I'm gonna be a dad, of course I'm happy. I can't believe it. I'm gonna be a dad. There's gonna be a mini version of our love? I hope it's a girl, then she'll look as beautiful as you. Did you check? Is it a girl? Or boy?"

You chuckled at his excitement, "No, I didn't. I was just terrified and happy to see the baby." He hugged you closer, "you don't need to be terrified. We'll be great, Mama and dada. I promise."

[consistentlyguessing]

Cool about it

Summary: Dating an assassin isn’t easy, especially not when she begins closing herself off after each mission.

WARNINGS: angst, fluff if ya squint, sad Yelena, fem!reader, she/her pronouns, y/n used, alcoholism, not proof read, idk prolly more doc

A/N: hi I’m back again cos I love her sooo much. This is very long so hopefully it’s good..this is my first time writing angst so bear with me

You and Yelena have been together for a little over a year. One year, 210 days, and 20 seconds but who’s counting?

You had stuck by her side after each and every mission, ensuring her that you didn’t think any less of her, and always preparing a requested meal for her. (Most of the time, it was Mac and cheese.)

She would come up behind you whilst you cooked, wrap her arms around your waist, kiss your neck, and tell you how grateful she was for you. You would giggle and blush, waving her off and telling her to go sit down while you cooked.

You two lived in a secluded place, just off the shore of New Hampshire. She made it a point to keep you away from her mission areas. Her top priority was always to keep you safe, away from any possible danger.

The house was small, but loved. It had one bathroom, two bedrooms— if you ever wanted a guest over, a nice kitchen and a small living room. When she bought it, she made sure to buy a house with a large kitchen. She knew cooking had been one of your passions for a while, and she wouldn’t have you settling for any less. Whenever she was gone, you’d go out and buy decorations for the house. It always surprised her when she got back. New signs, a few posters, maybe even a new couch if you were feeling rambunctious.

Truly, she had domesticated you. It almost made you sick. Almost. Right now, your house was decorated in soft greens and whites. You bought green pillows to match your cream colored couch. You had green curtains for the many windows. Despite your failure to take care of them very well, the house was littered with plants. Succulents, cacti, Venus fly traps, the works.

And she loved it. She loved how willing you were to make light of the poor situation you were in. Dating a trained assassin isn’t easy, but you made sure to show her your love for her.

However, you began to notice a change not too long ago.

The changes started out small. Her coming home, not immediately taking her shoes off like she usually did. She would walk straight to the bathroom and shower before going to bed. No words exchanged between the two of you.

You brushed it off as her being tired because she would always show love to you the next day.

But then, the changes began to grow. She would come home, slam the door, sigh heavily, and shut herself in your shared bedroom. She’d only come out once you knocked and told her dinner was done. Then, she’d make a plate and go sleep in the spare room.

It obviously hurt your feelings, but every time you tried to bring it up, she’d assure you that nothing was wrong. “You are being crazy, милый. Nothing is bothering me,” she’d whisper to you, holding you by your waist closely before kissing you on the cheek, patting your back, and walking off.

You would roll your eyes, clearly not convinced.

You let it slide for a while, until you came home one day to find her in the bathroom, passed out and the smell of vodka on her breath. You stood in the door way, a mix of shock and anger on your face.

“Yelena!” You had shouted, startling her awake. She hurried up off the floor once she made eye contact with you, stumbling over to you. “Baby, you’re home! I’ve missed you,” she slurred. She attempted to wrap herself around you, but you stepped away, shaking your head, causing her to nearly trip and fall.

You were stood in the hallway now, arms crossed, clearly disappointed. She recomposed herself, leaning against the door frame. “What’s your problem? You were gone all day. Can’t I show love to my favorite girl?” She beckoned, waving you towards her.

You kissed your teeth, eyes narrowed at her, “Yelena, you’re drunk.” She gasped, shaking her head. “Me? No- no I am not. I don’t do that stuff anymore, you know me,” she blabbered, clearly lying.

Sighing, you turned on your heel, heading towards the spare bedroom. She trailed behind you like a lost puppy.

Once you entered the room and flicked on the lights, you made your way over to the closet inside the guest room. You grabbed a clean pair of sheets for the bed. She watched you carefully, studying your every movement, causing you to shiver. If this had been different circumstances, you probably would’ve been flush against her chest right now, but you were mad at her. You had to stay focused.

You changed the sheets carefully, once she had realized what you were doing, she ushered up behind you, gripping your waist once more. “No, no, no, Y/n. It was just a few drinks— I am not that drunk, I swear,” she giggled breathily, her eyes glossy.

You grimaced, not turning to face her. “Go away Yelena. We can talk in the morning, I don’t want to be near you right now.” You shook your head, she whined in response, kissing your jaw and muttering soft, drunken, “I‘m sorry’s.”

You pushed her off you, still upset, “No Yelena, go to bed I don’t want to have this conversation with you right now.” She stepped back, her jaw slack. She clenched it and rolled her eyes, closing them and inhaling deeply. She let a few tears roll down her face before walking away to the bedroom.

You both slept alone that night.

The next morning, Yelena was no where to be found. You had originally gotten up and prepared some, “I’m sorry” pancakes. Accompanied by a frowny face made out of chocolate chips, but she wasn’t in the bedroom, or living room, or anywhere. You sighed, calling her phone anxiously. Only to be met with her automated voice mail. You bit your lip, pacing around the house.

Hours had passed and you still hadn’t heard from Yelena. You tried to go check outside, but you didn’t see her in any of her usual spots. You checked bars, restaurants, fast food places, nowhere to be found.

After a few days of non stop calling, and endless searching, you gave up. You were sat on the couch, rewatching whatever crap was on TV, a large glass of wine in your hand. This was around your fifth glass.

You were about to fall asleep when you heard the twisting of the doorknob. You straightened up immediately, twisting your head to see who the unexpected visitor was.

The door opened and quickly shut, you made eye contact with a disheveled Yelena. Your eyes widened, you quickly rushed over to her, hastily forgetting about the TV show and wine.

“Yelena Belova! Where the hell have you been?!” You shouted, your voice cracking, your eyes glossy, remnants of the wine on your breath.

She sniffed at you slightly, not responding, her face contorted into one of disgust. You were surprised, you hadn’t seen her in a week and she was disgusted by you?

“You reek, Y/n,” she spoke truthfully, eyeing your outfit. You had just showered, so you were wrapped in a soft black towel that you had just bought.

You stepped away from her, “What’s your problem, ‘Lena? I don’t see you for..days and the first thing you want to say to me is that I reek?”

“You do. You have been drinking. It stinks.” She deadpanned, her voice faltering slightly. You swallowed hard, clenching your jaw.

“Where have you been, ‘Lena?” You asked, your voice softer than before. She sighed, shaking her head, “I’ve been staying with Natasha. Figured she wanted to see me more than you,” she said, her voice cracking. Her tough exterior faltering.

“Wha- why would you think that?” You breathed, stepping towards her, your arms grabbing her hips. “Becuase of the other night,” she whimpered, her eyes tearing up. She looked away from you, licking her lips anxiously. Her arms by her side, “and these past few weeks.”

You sighed, “Yelena, I was more worried than I was mad. I just want to know what’s going on with you. I’m not a mind reader, but I care.” She looked at you, her nostrils flared as tears ran down her face. You reached up to gently wipe them away, causing her to laugh at you, “you are so cringey,” she grinned, grabbing your wrist.

She walked you over to the kitchen table, sitting in one of the chairs, looking down at the table, her hands clamped together. You sat next to her slowly, your knees touching. She let a few moments of silence pass, gathering her thoughts before she finally looked up at you.

“My missions, I’ve been feeling guilty about them. After I finish them I just imagine how you would see me if…” she swallowed, shaking slightly. You grabbed her hand slowly, urging her to continue. “If you saw what I did…what I do. You’d be disgusted by me, never want to see me again.” She whimpered, her lip quivering. She looked away from you, biting her lip.

You frowned, rubbing her back soothingly. She leaned into your touch, you felt her muscles relax beneath you.

“Yelena, we met after you just got off a mission. You blew up a fucking building. That probably killed like five people, not to mention those who were actually supposed to be taken out on that mission.” You grinned, tightening your grip on her hand

She chuckled, nodding her head, listening to you as you spoke. “I fell in love with you then, you can guarantee I’m going to keep loving you like this.” You promised, leaning your chin on her shoulder.

She let your words sink in momentarily before looking over at you, you straightened up, removing your chin and arm from her body. She smiled at you, her eyes still glossy and her cheeks still stained from tears. The sight of her like this broke your heart.

“I love you,” she whispered, before kissing you softly. You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around her waist lazily. Once she broke the kiss, she stood up slowly, the table creaking under her weight.

“I’m going to go shower” She said, walking away towards the bathroom. You grinned at her, following behind her closely, “Room for another?” You asked, she looked over her shoulder before speaking up, “always,”

[cozzzynook]

Okay okay idea time, Rodimus running away from home after Optimus finds out he's sparked with Megatron's sparklings.

While Optimus isn't a cruel or sparkless mech Rodimus knew his carrier would be more then mad when he was found in the med-bay. He was holding a scan with the photo of a large sparkling with a tank Alt-Mode, It didn't take a genius to figure out who the Sire was. After arguing with Optimus for 2 hours straight Rodimus knew he couldn't remain as a Auto-Bot as it was far too risky, He couldn't risk his sparkling getting taken away or worse so he packed a bag and just left.

The only bots who knew where Roddy had vanished too was Kup, Ratchet and Bee, all three refused to talk with Optimus for months after Rodimus left. Maybe once the war is over or his carrier has come to his senses he'll allow Optimus to see his sparkling when they arrive but for now Roddy is content to leave him in the dark.

Hope you enjoyed, I guess this could be classed as angst or hurt/comfort

I love this idea!!!

Its not even that Roddy is worried about Optimus hurting him or the bitty its just he knows other bots will and his carrier will be so focused on anger and disappointment and leading the autobots he won’t notice or have time to help.

Plus he’d stress Roddy out the entire time and Roddy knows it’s not a good thing to be sparked by a warlord but it happened and instead of using this as a treaty opportunity Optimus is not at all thinking about that.

But roddy is when the few who know agree with Prowl and Jazz who bring it up. The two find out on accident really and Roddy is certain Prowl and Jazz would do something to his bitty or him for being a traitor to the cause but they don’t. In face they’re offended by his beliefs and propose the idea of treaty through spark bonding and the bitty.

Roddy agrees to the bitty part but he’s very surprised when Megs agrees to the spark bonding part.

Roddy…isn’t on board with that part and Megs isn’t about to let the opportunity to conjunx Roddy go away sooooo he agrees to the treaty because their bitty truly is enough of a cause every bot can get behind since bitties were the only thing left unscathed during the war. But the treaty will only be signed if he’s allowed to conjunx Roddy.

Roddy agrees to everyone’s complete surprise and its only after all is signed and his carrier is still upset at him mind you, that Roddy says, “I agreed to conjunx you,” he rubs his tanks feeling the nausea roll with all the smells in the air and his nerves bad because of the situation and his carrier.

“But the treaty nor I ever said when.”

And..He’s got a point.

So he stands and turns to leave with Megatron ready to follow but Bee and Kup are keeping them distanced with Bee following giving their carrier a disappointed look and Kup gives the warlord some advice.

“Do the ritual right. My grandsparkling always did like his and Kaonian customs.”

Idk where my brain went but i like both these ideas and I can see a lot of secret bitties popping up all over on both sides. Same faction bitties and a lot of cross faction bitties.

Starscream is quick to move Bee and their bitty into their new home and Optimus is just..shocked he didn’t know both his bitties were seeing cons and he actually had a grandsparkling already.

“Get yer helm out of yer aft,” is Ratchets non too friendly advice to Optimus as he holds his and Drifts newest sparkling while their oldest sparkling First aid is standing next to his sire nodding before bounding off to now freely cling to his carrier Drift.

“He’s got a point boss,” Jazz is now openly holding his bitty while the sire just stands next to him. Okay so Optimus knew Jazz and Soundwave had a long thing going. He just kept his intake shut like he did with Prowl and Tarantulas who had a pretty complicated but loving relationship going on.

Sooo he does the next best thing which is sigh and apologize to both his friends and bitties.

He forgot how much he misses having them both in his arms snuggled up to him.

He’s very happy holding his grandsparkling and watching Megatron suffer his awkward attempts at courting Rodimus who actually enjoys them since its spark felt.

But he absolutely draws the line when Shockwave comes back. Because his bitties and long time friends can just see the intentions Shockwave has for him and man Optimus does not want to be sparked again.

“Our youngest bitty is and will stay Bumblebee, Shockwave. Get away from me.”

Starscream does not make things better, “Oh great, so you, your brother and carrier will all be sparked at the same time?”

Aaannnd thats not how Bee wanted others finding out he’s sparked again but Star just ruins things with that intake of his and he’s long learned to accept it.

Optimus manages not to kill Starscream and he manages to keep Shockwave at arms length for all of a hundred years before waking in berth with the cuddly mech who rubs his still flat tank.

“Not happening,” Optimus grumbles trying to turn away.

“Denial has never been suitable on you. Adorable nonetheless,” Shockwave simply states.

-

Idk what i did but i like it and thank you for submitting this story because i really like it and it made my brain do this.

[sweetbutpsychobutsweet]

Knock Before Entering

Chapter 13

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Thorin will have to exercise a great amount of restraint to not maim Kili and Fili, and when it comes time to grace the Wandering Widow with an encore performance you will have to find a way to take the stage with the rest of the company being none the wiser.

Warnings: no use of y/n, angst, 18+, NSFW, minors do not interact, brief descriptions of bloody wounds/injuries, mentions of sex work if you squint

Author's Note: This chapter ended up being waaaaaay longer than anticipated so I've broken it up into multiple sections. Which means the next one is already mostly done🥳 Thank you all so much for the love for the previous chapters and the cockblocking nephews😂

Word count: 2505

“Sooo,” Kili tries to suppress a smile as you pull the last shards of glass from the cut on his hand. “How long has this been going on?” He looks over his shoulder at his uncle, who is sitting in a chair across the room. Arms crossed over his chest and a scowl etched on his face, Thorin hasn’t said a word since you were cock blocked by his nephews. Instead, he elected to just pull his shirt back on and remain in the room, brooding in the corner while you patched up Kili.

Fili still remains in the doorway, refusing to step foot in the room as if that will help save him from his uncle’s simmering rage.

“You know I have some sewing supplies,” you remind Kili. “If you irritate me enough I could decide this wound is in dire need of stitches.”

“He only wants to know whether we won the bet or not,” Fili sighs from the doorway.

You lift a brow in question, not lifting your gaze as you continue cleaning his brother’s wound. “The entire company placed bets on how long it would take the two of you to jump into bed together.”

Your head snaps up, immediately looking over at Thorin. He doesn’t meet your gaze, he just tips his head back to the ceiling with a heavy sigh.

“When did this happen?” you scoff.

“In Bag-end,” Kili winces when you start to apply the salve to his palm. “The others will be relieved to hear the wait is over.”

“The others don’t need to know,” you warn him as you reach for the roll of gauze beside you. As you do you catch Thorin’s gaze. Finally falling back on you, his eyes are filled with an emotion you can’t quite place.

You had expected him to agree with you. But instead, he looks…surprised. Like he hadn’t expected you to be so adamant about hiding your complicated relationship from the others.

Everything is still so messy and new. You don’t even know what you would call it yet.

You’re certainly not courting. Thorin could never be formally involved with someone from your background. He is a king. And a king is meant to marry a proper lady of good standing. Not a rebellious half-dwarf such as yourself. If there’s one you know, it’s that you are not meant to be his queen.

So does that make you… lovers? The term makes you cringe. It implies a much longer relationship than the situation will allow. This will only last as long as the journey to Erebor. Thorin will marry another and you will be on your way with the mountain at your back once again. This is all meant to be a temporary arrangement. If anything, it feels more like you have stumbled across an alternative way to tolerate each other’s presence.

These days it feels like the two of you only get along when you have your limbs are tangled together in secret.

And Thorin hasn’t exactly gone out of his way to make your relationship known to the others. He isn’t the kind of person to indulge in any kind of public displays of affection or to insist on putting a label on whatever it is the two of you have. Perhaps you misinterpreted his desire for privacy as an agreement to keep your relationship a secret.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost say Thorin looks hurt that you want to hide it. The look he gives you brings a stab of guilt into your chest. Tearing your gaze from him, you busy yourself with binding Kili’s hand. Whether you misread things or not, Thorin still takes your side regardless.

“What either of us do behind closed doors is no one else’s business,” he grumbles at his nephews. “Let this be a lesson to the both of you on the courtesy of knocking before entering.”

“Did uncle knock before entering you?” Kili whispers with a smirk and Thorin jumps from the chair so quickly it clatters to the floor. Fili leaps from his place in the doorway fast enough to block his path to Kili.

You quickly tie off the bandage and rise to your feet, inserting yourself between Fili and Thorin before they can start throwing punches.

“That’s enough,” you hiss at the both of them. Thorin still has murder in his eyes as he towers over you, glaring at his nephews.

“He was only joking,” Fili defends his brother, who’s now come to stand at his shoulder.

“I don’t want to hear either of you speak about her in such a manner again,” Thorin growls at them.

“Please forgive me,” Kili looks at you with a genuine nod of remorse, before stifling a laugh when he whispers “auntie” under his breath.

Thorin goes to take another step towards him as the two start to snicker. You bring a firm hand to his chest before he can make it past you. “Quit it,” you hiss as you shoot a warning look his way. You can feel the barely suppressed growl in his chest beneath your fingertips, but he does as you say and remains planted firmly in place. Keeping your hand on his chest, you turn to look over your shoulder at the boys.

“We’re done here, so you’re both going to go back to your room and go to bed.” You instruct. “And neither of you will breathe a word of this to anyone. Otherwise, those eagles will send you back to your mother in pieces. Understand?”

They both nod their heads grimly. Knowing better than to test you when you’re this close to resorting to violence. They silently turn to leave.

You walk them out. Latching the door firmly closed behind them and sliding the lock in place.

Letting your hand linger on the rusted metal, you dread turning to face Thorin now that it’s just the two of you again.

This time being alone together doesn’t carry the same implication. The moment has officially passed. The previous mood dead and buried.

With a steadying breath, you turn to face him. And just as you predicted Thorin is looking at you with an expression you’re all too familiar with lately.

“Care to explain what that was about?” he crosses his arms over his chest again.

“You’re the one who didn’t lock the door,” you deflect as you brush past him to the bed. Beginning to pick up the discarded supplies and tossing them back into your bag.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he grumbles. “Why didn’t you want them to tell the others?”

“Why is that so wrong?” you turn to face him again, a hand on your hip. “Are you obligated to keep the company informed on everyone you sleep with?”

“No, but I don’t feel the need to go out of my way to hide it.”

“If you want to be the one to answer the endless tirade of questions about us, be my guest Thorin,” you roll your eyes. “Questions that I’m not sure either of us even have the answer to.”

“Only because we haven’t discussed it,” he reminds you.

“Is that really how you want to pass the time now that they’re gone?” you set a hand on your hip with a scoff. “Talking?”

He clenches his jaw, taking a step closer to you.

Your breath catches in your chest as you look up at him towering over you.

“I can’t help how much you infuriate me,” he growls, bringing a hand up to run through your hair. “No one drives me as crazy as you do.” His hand slowly comes to the side of your face, caressing your cheek.

“Every time you open your mouth I lose control.” He starts to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, watching in awe as you wrap your lips around the digit, beginning to suck. He growls as you gently scrape your teeth over his skin.

His other hand wraps around your waist, beginning to pull you in closer to him. You bring your hands to his chest, sliding them up the hard planes of his pectorals.

As your hands slide up, his starts to slide down. He grabs a handful of the soft flesh of your ass, eliciting a moan from you around his thumb.

Knock knock

You both groan and turn to glare at the offending door yet again.

“Not now,” Thorin shouts but the knocking persists.

Reluctantly stepping away from you with a huff, Thorin stalks over to the door. Unlatching it and yanking it open roughly.

Gandalf stands in the doorway. “Apologies for the interruption,” he says. Not looking the least bit sorry as his gaze bounces between the two of you in a knowing look.

“Can this wait?” Thorin grumbles at the wizard.

“I’m afraid not,” he replies, “we need to discuss the path we’re going to take for the journey ahead. The others are already gathered down in the kitchen for supper.”

“Very well,” he huffs, looking over his shoulder at you. “Shall we?”

“Actually,” Gandalf raises a hand to halt you both before you can head out the door. “Your assistance is needed in the tavern.”

He gives you a pointed look and you sneak a glance out the window behind you. The sun is already going down. You had promised Bertram you would put on your encore performance at sunset tonight.

“Ah yes,” you clear your throat, “I…promised one of the barmaids I would help her with some… lady troubles.”

Thorin raises a brow in confusion. “Can’t it wait? You’ll miss supper.”

“Oh, I’m afraid lady troubles never wait. I’ll join you all later.”

You shoulder your way past the two of them, Thorin looking confused at your abrupt departure.

You shoot Gandalf a pointed look as you head for the stairs and he gives you a small nod in understanding. You can only hope that he fulfills his promise to keep the company occupied long enough for you to secure the night's lodgings

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

“You’re late,” Bertram grumbles from behind the bar. “The crowd’s starting to get antsy.” He nods to the restless patrons filling the dimly lit room. The musicians are already tuning their instruments and drunken folk from the nearby towns gather around the stage impatiently.

Considering it was on such short notice, you’re quite impressed word traveled this quickly. You already recognize many regulars in the audience from when you would take to the stage on a nightly basis.

“Apologies,” you mumble while pulling up the sheer fabric at your chest yet again. “I had some wardrobe troubles.”

Either you’re misremembering how uncomfortable the costume was or it’s somehow become tighter and itchier since the last time you wore it.

There are several loose layers of fabric over your hips and chest that are meant to be removed with a flourish throughout the performance. But it’s the pieces underneath that cling tightly to your body. They cover the only parts that will be left to the imagination so you don't want to risk them slipping off.

“Pretty sure this is the only profession where wardrobe malfunctions work to your benefit sweetheart,” he scoffs nodding to the musicians on stage to signal your arrival.

“Now break a leg, and make me some money,” he waves you off and you saunter away towards the stage.

The musicians begin to strum the opening of a familiar melody and the crowd starts to hoot and holler as you slowly climb the steps to center stage.

Blowing a kiss and waving to the crowd your feet tread a familiar path as your hips start to sway, seemingly of their own accord.

Muscle memory kicks in as you let yourself get carried away by the music. Swaying and twirling, smiling and winking as the onlookers cheer.

The music rises to a crescendo and with a roll of your neck and a flip of your hair, you begin to ever so slowly slip the fabric off of your shoulders.

It flutters to the ground, leaving nothing but a long strip of fabric covering your upper body.

Everyone cheers, and you lift your arms above your head with a dazzling smile. Maintaining the pose just long enough for them to drink in the sight.

Continuing your path across the stage, familiar patrons start to clamber closer to the edge of the stage. You’ve done this routine so many times they know the grand finale is drawing near.

With another spin, you quickly slip the tie at your hip free. Holding it taut in your hand your eyes quickly scan for a volunteer.

A big burly man with a long beard calls out your name with a cheer, holding his drink high overhead in a toast. You extend the piece of fabric out to him and he gladly accepts.

“Hold on tight,” you instruct with a wink and he does exactly that. Holding the end of the fabric in place, you begin to twirl away from him in a whirlwind, the skirt unraveling around you as you do so.

The crowd goes wild as the rest of the fabric disappears, sliding down your legs to pool at your feet as you strike another pose showing off your now bare legs.

Gingerly stepping over the pile of fabric you resume your dance, twirling to the other end of the stage.

Your next move is to reverse the movement and travel in the exact opposite direction. But before you can, a strong pair of arms reach around your waist from behind, dragging you backwards off the stage.

With a shout, you are abruptly set on your feet in front of the absolute last person you want to see right now.

“What are you doing?!” Thorin growls, keeping a firm grip on you as his eyes take in the very small amount of fabric in such a public place.

“I’m a little busy right now,” you hiss. The crowd has already started to shout in protest and the musicians have stopped playing, looking at each other in confusion.

You’re more than a little pissed they let someone just grab you from off the stage but that’s a conversation for another time.

You try to pull yourself from his grasp, if you get right back up there and finish the performance you’re sure you can remedy the situation.

Bertram is already pushing through the crowd, red in the face with his sights set on you.

Thorin’s grip only tightens on your arms, a muscle in his jaw tensing. He releases you for a brief second, and you foolishly think he's letting you have your way. But before you can climb back on stage, he is suddenly wrapping his cloak around your bare skin and tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"You and I are going to have a little talk," he growls as he carries you out of the tavern kicking and screaming.

Next

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[lightlycareless]

I’ve yet to finish your main fic so I’m sorry if this has happened there already but it seems Naoya is always the one messing up with Y/N(I mean obvi it’s Naoya lol) but has there been a situation where Y/N was 100% in the wrong and must now get Naoya’s forgiveness? Idk this may sound sadistic or smth but Naoya with his feelings hurt just seems really really cute and I’m curious of the ways Y/N would make it up to him. You don’t have to write out a whole things either, I’m also just curious on your thoughts on it ☺️

Hiii thank you so much for your patience!!

I'm quite glad an ask like this popped up in my ask box because I felt (or more like worried) y'all would start disliking the usual dynamic I present the Naoya/Y/N relationship with lol. However, there's nothing wrong in admitting that Naoya can be quite difficult, even more so considering his family and his upbringing.

Sooo it's quite refreshing to see otherwise :)!!! I ended up writing something because that's just how I be, which I still hope you'll be able to enjoy.

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst. mostly naoya and his insecurities.

Happy reading!

It’s kind of common knowledge at this point that out of the two, Naoya is the most expected to apologize for whatever misunderstanding his actions might evoke, or at least the one to do things that earn such act.

However, it wasn’t realistic to solely expect him to mess up, and honestly? A bit too good to be true.

But if it were up to him, he’d want to keep it that way. The insecure part of him, the one that believed wasn’t deserving of your affection, was willing to turn a blind eye to your mistakes as long as everyone remained happy.

Until a resurfaced, painful wound stopped him from doing so—provoked by you, of all people, when unwittingly comparing him with others.

He never liked experiencing such exposures, circling back to one of his main insecurities, occasionally believing there were people out there that deserved you far more than him; and in some way, personally knew someone who fit the description.

A particularly close friend he still refused to acknowledge as solely a friend (at least on his side)given how the two kept annoyingly close contact even after you moved in with Naoya, and began to plan for a family.

You tried to push away his concerns by reminding him that he was just indeed, that: a friend. Whom you’ve grown to greatly appreciate because of all the things you two went through in jujutsu high, you met him first, after all. And supported you when you began to develop feelings for your now fiancée.

Besides, you chose him as your partner in life, the only man you ever envisioned having children with, or standing by his side when the two eventually become old, unable to do anything but reminisce all you’ve done together.

But this reassurance ceases the moment he accidentally eavesdropped a conversation happening between you and your loyal staff, one that was clearly not intended for everyone to hear, certainly not him when you say the following words.

“—Oh, I can’t believe you’re making me say this! But, well, if I really must… if it weren’t for Naoya, I would’ve married Kento.”

Well, at least you were conscious enough to understand the gravity of your words, how completely insensitive they truly were. And yet, this awareness did nothing to stop his heart from dropping down to the pit forming in his stomach, the weight of his insecurities abruptly falling down at him like a bucketful of ice, rooting him on the spot as he begins to spiral.

Naoya’s head spun, throat tightening and vision blurred as the picture of the perfect, loving marriage he believed had with you shattered at the prospect of your hidden consideration for a man that wasn’t him.

As if his deepest, most intimate fears came to life through some kind of divine retribution, reminding him that all the things he’s done for you, tried to achieve for your wellbeing… meant nothing, because you already knew who to reach for when he ultimately failed and disappointed you once and for all. You were simply there to make the best out of the situation before moving on.

Were you with him because you felt indebted to him? Because you felt forced to do so? Or did his preceding reputation scared you into doing so? Afraid of what he or his family would do if you dared reject him?

He tried proving his past wrong. Convince you that the person he used to be no longer exists, because he loves you and wants to do better—for you, for his future children.

… Did you even mean those words? The ones he’d longed to hear all his life? The same ones he always held so close to his heart, in fear he might never receive them again?

Or were they simply to keep him lenient, unsuspecting of your true devotion?

Naoya doesn’t know how to feel with this newfound piece of information, besides downright miserable; in such degree that he couldn’t even look you in the eye the following hours, or even be in your presence without constantly torturing himself with your fantasy of being in another’s arms, if only he weren’t standing in the way.

And you, of course, don’t take long to know something is up with him. It would be surprising if you didn’t considering how obsessive he was over you, unable to keep his hands to himself whenever you were in the premises—but now… was nothing short of absent, both physically and mentally.

Yet, it’s not after the night comes that he finally unveils the torment that imprisoned his mind, the beginning of a terrible denouement.

“If you’re truly unhappy, you are free to go.” Naoya coldly declares at your prodding. You blink.

“What? What do you mean by that? Where is this coming from?”

“You know damn well where.” He seethes, a reaction that makes you instinctively flinch—and Naoya immediately regrets his demeanor upon your reaction, but he could no longer deny his pain.

“Naoya—please tell me. I… I really don’t know.”

He doesn’t want to; the mere thought of your unfaithfulness is enough to send another sharp pang to his heart. But if he must, if it’s to free you, then he has no other choice.

“…I heard you.” He continues. “How unhappy I make you.”

“You don’t make me unhappy.” You firmly declare. “I’ve never been happier than with you!”

“That’s not what you said—you were clear with your words; if I weren’t on the way, you’d be with someone else.” And just with that, his accusations make sense.

“No, Naoya—I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Then what did you mean?” He murmurs with a frown, his soft voice denoting a heartbreak that just… kills you to hear. Realize you were the culprit behind his sadness, and possible dent in this relationship.

“It was just a foolish thing one of my staff members asked, a hypothetical thing, but… it doesn’t reflect any of my true feelings for you.” You say, eager to amend all the mistakes your careless words caused upon him as seen in the way you attempt to reach his hands.

But it’s simply too late, his pain was far too deep to simply ignore in favor of accepting your gesture and leave all behind. He couldn’t do that while his heart still needed to be mended, to be given closure of this alleged misunderstanding—regardless if fate pushed him away from you.

“Just tell me one thing, Y/N. One thing is all I need to hear from you.” He requests, a part of him still debating whether to leave or remain… but all depending of your answer.

“Anything”

“Has there ever been a moment where you—where you considered leaving me for him?”

“Never.” You answer immediately after. “I could never, I don’t want to. You’re the one I want.”

“Then why did you say that?”

Silence. Long, uncomfortable stillness.

“It was just a question; it didn’t mean anything.” You add. “It was something stupid that Hitomi wanted to know, nothing more.”

Would it be stupid too, if he believed you?

“I need to be alone.”

Whether that being a few hours, or even days… it’s something you no longer decide, forcing you to simply observing him through the sidelines as he further retreated into his thoughts, to the ones many wouldn’t consider encouraging, nor necessary during these miserable moments. But in that moment, he couldn’t muster anything else that wasn’t desecrating all he once thought a reality.

Yet, as much as he wished to keep away from you, and you to respect his wishes… the two inevitably began to long for one another, as it usually goes when two souls are heavily intertwined with one another.

From Naoya occasionally glancing at your direction, hoping to get a glimpse of you as you worked through your duties of the day, to you by making sure he was still well tended even through your imposed distance, delivering snacks and tea every so often to ease his burdens of everyday sorcery, followed by warm meals (a good plate of miso soup could never go wrong), and ending with short letters describing your day, as well as your hopes that he was faring well above anything else.

All whilst the possibility of this relationship ending permanently lingered in the back of your mind. Because after all was said and done, and you’ve come to accept you might no longer have a love in the near future, you’d still want him to be ok. Happy, even if it was without you.

The overall insignificant nature of your previous statements, alongside the ever-growing affection the two harbored for one another eventually paved way for a reunion, made possible through discreet glances that while seemingly insignificant to outsiders, to soulmates it was the clear indication it was time to leave this misunderstanding behind for good.

“I’m sorry.” You say, barely a few words in and your cheeks were already soaked with tears, making it harder to continue without faltering. To profess the universal truth of your feelings in such way he’d believe you. “I—I love you.”

“I know.” He says, finally accepting your nth attempt to reach out to him, and doing what he always desired to the moment you stray away, even for a second: embrace you. “I know you do.”

“Can we— can we start again, please?” you quietly beg, burying your face even deeper into his chest. “It was a stupid thing for me to say, I should’ve never indulged that conversation! Because I—I really love you, like you have no idea… I’d rather die than to live without you!”

“Y/N…”

“I’m sorry, I… I don’t know what I’d do if you leave me…!” you sob. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…! Please—Please don’t leave me—”

“Y/N!” Naoya interjects, putting a stop to your now senseless rambles. You sniffle. “It took me so much to get you, I’m not letting you go that easily.”

“Does that mean you—” he nods, pressing a kiss against the top of your head.

“It’s ok, my love. I forgive you, if that’s what you want to hear.”

“I love you Naoya, I really mean it, I’m not lying.” Your lip trembles as your embrace tightens, almost as if the slightest hesitation would lead to his disappearance.

“I know.” And all it took to asses said fact was to simply recount your ever-present gestures, how you always looked after him, even when separate—for better, for worse.

Because if you didn’t care for him, you wouldn’t have done such a thing.

You wouldn’t have apologized, waited for him as long as you did, prepare to do go even further, and… still love him.

Love him, above all, and no one else.

No such feelings would exist if he weren’t your first and only option.

Just as you were his.

“I love you too, little mochi.” Naoya professed, placing his fingers underneath your chin and carefully lifting your gaze to his, where he was finally able to place a kiss on your lips: an undeniable declaration of love, forgiveness, and a new beginning.

With remnant of his usual self, of course.

“But… if you really want to make it up to me, there is something we can—"

You don’t let him finish before you’re already pushing him onto the bed, nimble hands undoing his garments and freely allowing you to shower his skin with all of your held-back desire, make up the absence your bodies had been cruelly put through, and rekindle with one another.

Which he wasn’t complaining about, far from it really; though he was considering something a bit more… redundant, perhaps. Like going down to the city and getting something to eat.

But this would do quite nicely as well.

something like this may or may not happen in the main fic. perhaps. maybe. we shall see. i wanna get back to it im sorry :(

Nanami is a sensitive subject, if you don't want to see Naoya sad do not bring him up lol. Poor Naoya, will he ever be freed of such fears?

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this prompt!! I really don't have anything else to say that wasn't stated here hehe (or I might post something later who knows) so, until then... take care and hope to see you soon :) 💖💖💖

[heartforbangtan]

The only exception | 3

Series Summary: What are the consequences of having your first kiss with your best friend?

Pairing: Park Jimin X Female Reader 

Genre:  Dancer AU, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Romance, Mutual Pining 

Chapter Count: 3 /? (ongoing) 

Word count: 6,8k+

Content Warnings: explicit mature content

A/N: sooo sorry for the delay. A lot of things have happened in my life lately, besides a looot of college exams 😭😭 I hope you're still with me 🥺🥺

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I'm sorry that I hurt you It's something I must live with everyday And all the pain I put you through I wish that I could take it all away And be the one who catches all your tears That's why I need you to hear The reason - Hoobastank

Current days 

Seoul, South Korea

The truth is that you have depended emotionally on Jimin for a long time and only now do you realize it. This situation has two sides of the coin: one, you feel happy to have had someone to count on, someone who made the mood less heavy for you; two, you feel guilty for having depended so much on him for so long.

You wonder if maybe that was the reason Jimin left. Maybe he was fed up with your problems and didn't know how to say he didn't want to be a part of it anymore.

As the years passed, with maturity and the search for psychological help, you were able to understand many things.

Today you are no longer bothered by your parents' problems. Living away from home for a few years has helped you to get away from the black hole that was their problems.

Your life took a different direction and, to be honest, it became much lighter. But there was still something inside you that needed to be finished.

You avoided talking about this in therapy, but at times it came to the surface. Another thing that therapy helped you see: despite all the chaos that your life became as a teenager, you managed to find something good in it. Today you can recognize it: you were madly in love with Jimin. But who wouldn't be? He was simply perfect, even at such a young age.

All the fun times you had together, plus the times he helped you so much, couldn't have resulted in anything other than you falling in love with him.

However, now Jimin was on another level and you no longer belonged to his world like before. Despite this, you couldn't help yourself not to think about him most of the time.

And you hate your head for it. How could you keep thinking about him even after he was gone?

Many of your feelings were being revived and turned upside down with this new reality of working side by side with him.

When they say, temporary pleasure helps fuel your loneliness, they’re not lying. 

And that's what you're doing now.

On top of him, with his cock buried inside you, it kind of makes you forget about your whole life. Your eyes are closed, trying to focus on the pleasure you're feeling.

“Y/n, look at me…” Taehyung says, but you ignore him.

Looking at him shatters the illusion, and as fragile as it is, the illusion is all you have.

“Y/n, please.”

You start to ride him harder, stopping him from talking any further. Your pussy contracts, the familiar pleasure building inside your belly.

Taehyung knows what you're thinking. And he doesn't mind being your outlet sometimes. It's not like he has feelings for you like that. But he would like you to at least look at him while you're having sex

He gives up trying to make you look at him. Taehyung grabs your waist and throws your body against the bed. The sudden change in position makes you open your eyes in fright. And for a moment you think that maybe he had had enough of your nonsense.

But he opens your legs and positions himself in the middle again. Adjusting the condom on his member, he directs himself back inside you.

The wonderful feeling of being filled by him in this different position makes you roll your eyes. Taehyung is pleased to know that you are enjoying it. His fingers begin to caress your clit, encouraging you to get closer to orgasm.

His breathing is heavy, slowly releasing hoarse moans. Taehyung can feel you tightening around him and he knows you're close to cumming.

His hips don't stop, slamming into you deliciously while his long fingers don't stop on your clit. Your fingers grip the sheets around you, making your knuckles white as you squeeze tightly. You can no longer control your moans, feeling that you are close to cumming.

“Tae, I'm going to-”

The combination of his moans and the sound of your skin slapping together makes you go crazy, the orgasm hitting you in strong waves.

Your legs tighten around his hips, pressing him against your body to keep him deep inside you.

“Wow…”

Taehyung can't control his moans as he feels you cumming around him. The scene is so erotic for him, that it pushes him to the peak, cumming along with you. The temporary pleasure feels so good that it almost makes everything seem perfect.

He kisses your forehead and gets off, going to discard the used condom.

You're a mess in bed. Your hair is spread out on the pillow and your body is sticky. When Taehyung comes back from your bedroom suite, you look at him with hungry eyes.

“You're so hot.”

He gives you that half-embarrassed, half-smug smile and joins you in bed.

“What were you thinking?”

You cover your body with the blanket and turn to face him in bed. You don’t know exactly what you were thinking. Maybe you were trying to focus solely on what you were doing, instead of getting lost in your thoughts and suddenly losing the mood.

“Nothing, I was trying to focus.”

“Why? Don’t I satisfy you enough?”

You get a little surprised by his words. You go over to him and throw your weight on top of his body.

“Of course you satisfy me. My legs are still shaking from just now.”

Taehyung smiles and he looks cute when he smiles. You can’t help but smile too.

“Then why did you need to focus?” His voice is soft and soothing, making you relax. You lay your head on his chest and breathe deeply in the scent of his masculine skin 

“I don’t know, I’m just really stressed with work. Sorry about that.”

Taehyung starts to play with your hair, running his fingers through the strands and smoothing them.

“You don’t need to apologize, I just want to know what’s going on in that little head of yours.”

Your head hurts a little, thinking about all the things that have happened this week in your life. You consider whether you should tell Taehyung what is stressing you out so much that you can barely focus on having sex with him. You feel bad for him, because sex with him is incredible and you can't complain about the countless times he has made you tremble after several rounds.

But now you are feeling a whirlwind of emotions and it is bothering you, you can’t allow yourself to feel these emotions. An immense dissatisfaction, a desire to go out and shout at everyone for no apparent reason.

“How was your week?” His voice disconnects you from your thoughts.

“I’m working with Jimin”

You close your eyes and wait for him to be surprised or some other reaction you can’t imagine.

“Hm, that’s unexpected. How are you feeling?”

To be honest, Taehyung already kind of knew about the whole situation. Ever since Jimin returned to Seoul after his performance trips, they’ve been talking more regularly. He just doesn’t think it would be ideal to tell you about it now, so he’s hoping you’ll tell him what’s bothering you first.

You lift your head from his chest and study him for a few seconds. He seems to be sincere and your heart softens.

“Strange.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“Not exactly. We agreed to meet today.”

“That’s good.”

You raise an eyebrow doubtfully at Taehyung.

“What? I don’t know what else to say.”

“I don’t know either, honestly.”

You two stay silent for a few seconds, you just listening to his heartbeat with your head resting on his chest.

"Well, what time are you guys meeting?"

Your mind is somewhere else, but when you hear Taehyung's question your eyes widen.

“Oh my god, what time is it?” You get up quickly, not caring that you are naked, and start looking for your cell phone that is somewhere scattered among the clothes you threw on the floor.

You still have about an hour to get ready and leave.

“Thank God, there’s still time.”

“Do you want to take a shower?”

You turn and look at him and Taehyung is giving you a mischievous look. You get the message.

“Round two?” you ask.

And he’s already getting off the bed, heading towards you while you run to your bathroom laughing.

The discomfort between the two of you is noticeable to anyone who looks at you for more than 10 seconds.

Jimin shifts uncomfortably in his chair in front of you. He looks at you, his blond hair falling a little over his eyes.

You hold back the urge to sigh, because it's unbelievable that he could look so handsome with a hair color so different from his real shade. It's almost like he was born to be blond.

This isn't good for your mental health. Having him so close and so irresistibly handsome does things to your head and you have to remember why you're here.

“I didn't know you worked for that advertising company.” Jimin breaks the silence.

It's obvious you don't know. You never spoke to me again.

You think about it, but you don't have the courage to tell him. Not when you need to have a good relationship in order to continue working, for now. So you opt for a softer answer than you would like.

“I've been working with Minah for a few years now.” you try to say it as softly as possible, without letting the anger you're feeling show.

“Oh…”

And the uncomfortable atmosphere is back. In a few seconds a waitress is at your table, checking your orders and you thank God. The atmosphere was too heavy and neither of you knew how to fill that space in any other way.

The elephant in the room was clear and in vivid colors, but you both maneuvered to avoid it at every turn.

Jimin's head is so full that he can't choose the right words to say to you. He wants to tell you so many things but can't formulate any of them, ending up in silence.

“I didn't know you worked for Hybe. It's a pretty big company.” you lie.

You knew Jimin worked for that company, after all, you've never stopped following his work over the years.

A habit that your psychologist told you to eliminate from your routine, and you did. Somehow, eliminating this habit made you feel like you were definitely eliminating him from your life. And you didn't want that, despite everything.

But at some point you had to move on. You just didn't expect him to reappear in your life just when you were starting to move on a little.

“Oh, yeah, it was right after I left that, um, dance school I went to.“ Jimin looks embarrassed and you realize it.

“Ah…”

The mention of the well-known Seoul dance school he attended.

In other circumstances, this might be a reason for praise and all that. But this dance school only reminds you of what it was like to say goodbye to each other. One of your biggest traumas...

You agree with him, not knowing exactly what to say. Jimin knows that bringing up this topic wasn't a good idea and he mentally curses himself for it.

Silence takes over the table again and the only thing left is for you to look at each other.

You look at his hands on the table, playing with his own fingers in an attempt to calm his nervousness. His fingers have some rings adorning them and this doesn't go unnoticed by you.

You've always liked Jimin's hands. Something about their duality of being small and cute, but at the same time sensual and full of veins made you lose your mind.

Your eyes keep going up and you don't even notice that Jimin is doing the same to you. Analyzing your hands, looking for something.

Jimin is dressed all in black and you mentally curse him for it, for the countless time tonight. It should be forbidden for him to be dressed all in black like that and still be blond! It should be a crime for him to appear like that in front of you when all you want is to slap him for abandoning you. And you don't want to get lost in his stunning beauty, not at all.

You can't be weak enough to fall for his charms like that, even if he's not even trying.

When you reach his face, your eyes fall to his lips, the ones you kissed so much throughout your adolescence. The memory is still vivid in your mind.

The admiration lasted a few seconds, but you were late in meeting his eyes, because Jimin was already staring at you when you looked him in the eye. Your face heated up violently when you realized he had caught you staring at his lips.

You shifted in your chair, trying to show that you weren't affected by it, but the movement made you hit your knee and shake the things on the table.

“Shit... “ you curse. holding your knee.

Jimin looks at you worried and scared by the noise.

“Are you okay?”

And there's that concern of his that you really didn't need at that moment.

“Yes, yes, it was nothing.”

You continue massaging your knee as the waitress comes to bring your order to the table.

You realize that enough time has passed for your orders to be taken and brought to your table, but you haven't had a real conversation yet.

“So... What did you want to talk about?” you ask while keeping your eyes on the slice of cake you ordered.

“I think we should talk about us before all this starts.”

You accidentally hit the plate with your cutlery. Us.

“There's no us to talk about.” you don't look at him.

It never existed.

Maybe you were a little harsh.

“We can't keep avoiding each other like this if we're going to work together.” His voice is soft, but it still stresses you out.

“Well, it doesn't look like we're avoiding each other now.”

You point out, petulant, not liking the direction of this conversation.

Jimin maintains his posture, he knew you would be reluctant to talk. But he needed to do it.

“Y/n, you know what I'm talking about. You practically ran away from me on Tuesday.”

Jimin barely touched the food he ordered. And so did you.

His heart is tight in his chest and a lump in his throat as he sees you starting to get defensive with him.

The situation is starting to get to you, your fingers are already starting to tremble.

You stay silent because you don't know what to say to him, because he told the truth.

“I really want us to get along...again.”

Jimin says looking at you, waiting for you to look back. But you don't have the courage to look at him now. Not with him saying this kind of thing to you. After so long...

You almost laugh at what he says. Again?

“Again? So you can fuck me and then leave me like nothing happened?”

Your voice trembles a little and you feel like you've gone back in time, 5 years ago. When he left you without explanation, with your heart in your hand, which you had just ripped out of your chest to give to him.

You look at him with anger in your eyes, because that's what you're feeling right now.

Jimin has a surprised expression on his face at your outburst. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, as if he's trying to stay calm, and then looks at you again.

You couldn't imagine how much pain he was in.

"Don't say things like that." His voice is broken, you can feel it. But you think he doesn't have that right.

“Why not? It's the truth.”

“That's not how things happened and you know it.”

“So tell me how it went.” you're angry and your hands are already shaking. You hide them under the table, giving up on eating your meal. 

Jimin sighs.

“We don't need to talk about it.”

In fact, he himself didn't want to talk about it. You may not know it, but it left as much of an impression on him as it did on you. And he blames himself for it every day.

“Oh, I think we do. “ you challenge him.

Jimin pauses, the memories reliving in his mind, as if he doesn't already blame himself every day thinking about them.

“I needed to go to Seoul if I wanted to keep dancing. You know that, we talked about it.”

That's not what you want to hear. And that's not what Jimin wanted to say. He just can't think straight right now.

And that's not how things happened. You know that, and so does he.

He made that decision for the two of you alone.

"You could have told me earlier... " your voice is tired. You are tired

You have repeated these same lines before.

“I tried to tell you.” 

He really tried. And you don't know how much he suffered to tell you this, knowing that you would hate him forever.

You suppressed an ironic laugh. Jimin is joking today.

“Did you really try? Because to me it seemed like you waited until the last second to tell me.” your eyes don't leave his.

You want to see what face he'll make, what excuse he'll use this time.

Silence again.

You're both hurt too much. And Jimin understands your side, but he wanted you to understand his too.

You feel like you don't need to relive it. It was too much. What happened, happened. And now you need to be adults enough to put it behind you and work together.

You no longer feel like having this conversation anymore. Maybe you’re running away from your problems, but you can’t help it.

“Look, I don't feel like talking about this anymore.” You start to fix your bag. “ You don't have to worry, I won't ruin our working relationship.” You stand up and Jimin follows you with pleading eyes.

You ignore him.

He calls your name.

“Please, let me explain better.” His hand goes up to the table towards you, as if he were going to hold you.

But he stops halfway and closes it into a fist.

“You already explained.” you give a forced smile.”I'll see you on Monday at work.” and you walk away from him.

Your heart was crushed into a thousand pieces again. Tears wanted to form in the corners of your eyes. But you weren't going to humiliate yourself to the point of crying in front of him. Not again.

You walked to the cashier and paid your bill before leaving the coffee shop.

You practically ran to the parking lot and got into your car. As soon as you sat down, the tears started to fall violently.

You felt like an idiot for your actions. You wished this conversation had gone differently. You wished you had been more mature and not exploded in front of him.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you rested your head on the steering wheel.

This wasn't how things were supposed to be.

Jimin puts both hands on his face, covering his eyes and lowers his head. This was not the direction he expected the conversation to take.

“Stupid.” He says to himself. Because this is how he feels after this conversation.

There was no point in rehearsing this conversation a million times in his head. It didn't go as planned at all.

He had been thinking about explaining everything to you since the beginning. And finally telling you how much he missed you and how his life no longer made sense without you in it.

As soon as Jimin got home, he took off his clothes and threw himself on the bed. His head hurt, along with his entire body.

It's been a while since he's had a full night's rest. And the exhausting routine of rehearsals and performances has drained all the energy from his body, as well as his mind.

He was taken by surprise when he found out that his chief had hired a new advertising company. And he was even more surprised when he found out the name of the person who would be in charge of helping him personally. Jimin thought that life couldn't be more difficult for him. However, he saw a new hope emerge in the darkness that was his life.

He knew you worked for that company. He just didn't have the courage to admit that he was still looking for things about you, after all these years.

Jimin thought that you could finally get along, now that you were going to work together. Maybe he could explain to you everything he felt over the years, how he got lost in this world and doesn't know how to find himself anymore.

Unfortunately, things aren’t that simple.

He really hurt you. And Jimin can’t demand that you forgive him.

His phone vibrates with a message. Taehyung is asking how the date between the two of you went.

Jimin closes his eyes. It was a disaster.

It's been a few days since Jimin and Taehyung started talking more often again. They started chatting until the conversation turned to you. Jimin ended up telling you about the new surprise at work and asked if Taehyung still talked to you. Taehyung said that you were still friends and that you hung out a lot.

Jimin felt sad because honestly, it seems like people kept their bonds despite life, it was only him who had drifted away from almost everyone.

This wasn't right and he knew it. But for today it was enough.

“You need to talk to me.”

Yuna is sitting on the couch at your house after you called her, crying. She knows why and she knows what you went to do today. But since she arrived 30 minutes ago, you haven't said a word other than crying.

Your heart is tight in your chest and you feel a lump in your throat, even after you've cried a lot. Your eyes are already swollen enough to be starting to bother you and your nose is completely blocked.

“I don't know what to say. " Your voice comes out strange through your blocked nose and you almost laugh at how pathetic you sound now.

“Well, start by telling me how your conversation went.”

Yuna is patient and you are eternally grateful for that. It's no wonder she's been your best girl friend since high school when you two met.

You start telling her about your short but torturous conversation. In fact, it can't even be considered a conversation, since you barely talked about what really mattered. You blame yourself for that.

“I think I was very intolerant. I shouldn't have let myself get carried away by emotions.”

You cry a little more, but not as violently as before. Your body is already tired of crying, although you still feel hurt.

“You don't have to blame yourself for feeling things. It's been a long time since you last saw each other.”

Yuna is so good to you. But you feel like you're in the wrong and that you did something wrong.

“Still. I felt so angry at him because-”

“Because you still like him.”

She cut you off mid-sentence and your heart skipped a beat at her words. It made no sense to you after all these years.

“But it's been so many years... I don't even know who he is anymore.”

“Well, it doesn't matter. You're clearly affected by him again.”

Have you ever stopped being affected?

You feel stupid.

And your life feels like a joke. To be more specific, it feels like your life is a circus and you are the clown.

“I feel so stupid for being like this.”

“Don't talk like that. You're not an idiot.”

A few more cold tears fall from your eyes and Yuna gets up to get you a tissue.

"I'm an idiot."

“What kind of person still likes a guy who dumped her? An idiot.”

She sits up straighter and looks at you seriously. Here she comes.

“A person who has feelings so strong that they don't just go away.”

She hands you the tissue with determination and you accept it.

“That's bullshit”

“It's not bullshit. That's what makes you, you. That's one of the reasons people like you so much.”

Maybe she's right, but you're in a wave of self-pity that doesn't allow you to agree with her.

“I don't think so…”

Yuna sighs loudly.

“Ugh, stop being so stubborn. Let's have some wine.”

She's already getting up and walking towards her kitchen counter.

“I can't drink wine.”

“Why not? You don't work tomorrow.”

You realize you don't have a damn excuse not to drink the wine, so you huff and Yuna laughs knowing she's won.

You just feel like a crybaby. You want things to be resolved without having to be in such a painful way.

At least the weekend will be a good time for you to process everything that happened and prepare for another week of work with Jimin.

Clothes. Accessories. Makeup. Photo set.

You run around helping organize everything for the big publicity event that Jimin will be doing this morning. So far, everything is going as planned. And you try at all costs not to be in the same room as him, even though that is an almost impossible task.

Jimin is going to do some photos for this well-known magazine and this will help a lot to promote his image and the upcoming performances he will do. You helped him get this opportunity and set up the whole shoot, along with the photographers. What you don't understand is why Minah sent you with him. Your job was to stay behind the scenes, organize everything and run away from him.

But it seems that Minah has other plans. She has been making you accompany Jimin everywhere she can. Minah is smart, she must have already realized that there is something wrong with the two of you.

You finish eating your lunch with a sigh, checking the time on your cell phone screen. You hurry to brush your teeth and get back to work.

You enter Jimin's dressing room, where the entire team is constantly circulating. But now everything is quiet and you don't see anyone.

“Hey, is anyone here?”

As soon as you finish speaking, Jimin appears with a surprised expression, and without a shirt! He comes out of the bathroom.

You get scared and for a few seconds your eyes roam over his body. You want to kill him. Why is he so handsome and attractive? You can't understand.

“Is everything okay?”

You have to hate him. That's the only way you can handle this. You can't give him the satisfaction of having you drool over him like a teenager. Not again.

“Y-yeah. Everything’s fine.”

Jimin's surprised face has already disappeared and he's acting like nothing happened. You try to ignore him.

You’re looking for your bag to put your toothpaste and toothbrush in, but you can’t find them. You fidget with the couch cushions a little nervously, because you want to get out of there quickly and not be alone with Jimin for too long.

“It's over there.”

His voice comes from behind you. Very close. You get a fright and move away. He's still shirtless and this time you scolded him not only in your head.

You're not thinking straight.

“Why are you naked?”

You sound harsh and Jimin frowns.

“I'm not naked.”

You get mad because there's no real reason for you to be mad with him. Just the fact that you're completely shaken by him being shirtless so close to you.

“Just put on a damn shirt.”

You are not being rational, but your actions are faster than your thoughts.

“Why are you acting like this? It's just a shirt.”

Jimin is slightly stressed and you can tell. You think he has no right to. Not when you can't admit the reason you're so mad: the fact that he's so damn gorgeous like this.

“What's so hard about covering yourself up, Park? I don't want to see you.”

You try to be functional and look for your bag, but your head doesn't seem to work when Jimin is so close.

“Well, you were the one who came in here.”

You look at him again.

You feel like punching him.

“Well, I work here!”

“What will your boss think if she sees you treating the client like that?”

Oh, he doesn't dare.

He's being a scoundrel.

“You want to know the truth? I'd rather not even be working on this with you!”

You spit the words in his face and Jimin stays silent. Maybe you went too far, but it's too late now.

Maybe you were too hasty in saying that you wouldn't ruin your relationship at work. Things were spiraling out of control faster than you had anticipated. It had only been two weeks and this was already happening...

You feel stupid. You told him, to his face, that you wouldn't ruin your work relationship. And now look at it. You've already screwed it up and you've barely gotten started.

His gaze is dead. You feel the sparkle is gone. You feel guilty.

“Okay…”

Jimin walks away from you and goes to the other side of the room, to a clothes rack, to look for the next outfit he's going to wear.

You can tell he's annoyed by the way he forcefully passes each hanger of clothes. His shoulders are tense and it's only now that you've noticed that he has a tattoo of the phases of the moon on his back.

With Jimin far enough away from you that you can't smell his incredible perfume or see his honey skin that drives you crazy, you can think straight. You sigh audibly and try to improve the situation, after all your job depends on it, you can't forget.

“I'm sorry. That was rude.”

He keeps his back to you.

“It's okay. I got the message.”

Now you start to feel guilty about what you said.

Jimin continues to search through the clothes rack and the only thing you can do is stare at his back. You notice the other tattoos he has now, something he didn't have when you were close. You want to know the origin of each one and what they mean to him. You wanted to know all the things about him.

You finally find your bag, which was right in front of your eyes. You feel extremely embarrassed.

When you turn around, Jimin is already wearing a white shirt with a black harness over it. He looks gorgeous.

You hate him even more. Because despite everything, you can't find him ugly. But you wish you could find him ugly and not at all attractive. Things could be easier that way.

The other employees start arriving to organize everything for the photoshoot.

You talk to some people who are responsible for creating the media and give them guidance on what should be done for later divulgation. You already have everything organized in a notebook, how you will divulgate each thing.

You try to focus on that: the professional scheme you've created for Jimin's image. You try to focus on the fact that this is just another job and try to forget who he is.

You are invited to watch the photoshoot and, honestly, you didn't want to. But you had nothing else to do at the moment so it would be a little weird to refuse.

In a separate room, the set is all set up for him. The photographers are already organized in their places. You knew that the theme of this photoshoot would be “the truth untold”, but you didn’t quite understand what that meant.

In the ready-made set, there was something that looked like a cage and Jimin positioned himself in the middle. Jimin is wearing a mask and has ribbons holding his arms, as if he were a puppet. A melody starts playing to guide him in the photos that have already started to be taken.

The melody also has sounds similar to a squirming doll and Jimin follows the rhythm without missing a beat, squirming in the restraints that are holding him.

After a few minutes of this, Jimin finally manages to get rid of the restraints and then he slowly takes off his mask. Several photos are taken at this moment. His face is so different from what you usually see that your heart skips a few beats. He seems very focused on what he is doing and exudes a lot of emotion.

His gaze is heavy and you feel as if he is indeed tied up and finally breaking free. You almost lose your breath as they take pictures of him. And the back of your neck starts to sweat a little despite the air conditioning.

After this part of the photoshoot, everything happens very quickly. The makeup artists come to touch up his makeup while Jimin gets rid of his clothes and puts on another one.

Even though he's not completely naked, it still feels wrong to watch him change like that in front of everyone. You snap out of your trance after watching him and try to get out of Jimin's field of vision.

The next set is called "rebirth" but you can't take it anymore. You catch a glimpse of his outfit, which is a mix of white and black, as if he's slowly being painted white.

You can't help but think that all these sets and clothe have some deeper meaning behind them. And your head is spinning with all the possibilities.

You head to the restroom to get some air, because it's going to be a long day if you keep this up.

A week had passed since that day, and you still hadn't talked.

“Look, I don't want to be mean to you. You know I only want the best for you. “ Minah says.

Sitting at the restaurant table, you can already anticipate what she's going to say.

“But speaking as your boss, I need you to resolve whatever situation is happening between you and Jimin.”

Your heart sinks. You never imagined you would have to hear this from her. Things have gotten so out of hand that even Minah can sense the discomfort between the two of you.

Although she hasn't seen you two interacting in person, someone probably ended up telling her how things are between you. And internally you hate yourself for letting this show so easily, at the same time as you hate your gossipy colleagues.

“I understand…”

“I don't know what happened between you two..., but I really wish you could get along. You are the best employee I have.”

You feel a little uncomfortable with her words, but deep down you understand what she means. Minah is being practical. And what matters now is business, not your personal relationship with Jimin.

“I promise it's not big deal.”

You try to pretend, but Minah has known you for years. She knows you don't talk much about your personal problems, but she can tell by the changes in your mood. And she's definitely noticed the uncomfortable way you've been acting every time you have to interact with Jimin. Or when she asks you to work with him all the time.

She's worried about you.

“I noticed, you know?”

She's still eating her lunch, sitting in front of you.

You listen attentively.

“You two kind of don't know how to act around each other. It's funny to watch from the outside, really.” she giggles, but you can't follow along.

She continues.

“As your friend, I think this is funny and would like to know more. But as your boss, I need this to improve. People will start to notice.”

And you know it's true.

There's no way you can work together several days a week, several hours a day, without someone noticing and commenting on how you're rude to him every time you talk.

Or how you hate being around him because all you've wanted to do is be around him all these years.

“So... are you going to tell me what happened?”she looks deep into your eyes.

You eat your food. Without any desire.

You decide that you are going to tell her. Not everything, but something.

“We kind of had this thing…”

You start, but you don't know how to continue. You don't even know what your relationship really was.

Minah is looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue.

“Were you guys dating?”

“No, I mean- it was complicated.”

She nods and continues eating.

“The point is: things didn't end very well and... we haven't talked about it since.”

You try to chew your food.

“How long has it been?”

“About 5 years.”

She looks at you in surprise.

“Were you really that young?”

You nod and give a humorless laugh.

Yeah, really young...

“Wow... I thought it was something recent.”

You're embarrassed. Any self-respecting adult would have gotten over this nonsense by now. But you can't.

Jimin was too much a part of your life for you to simply forget him as if he were nothing.

“Well, it clearly affected you. I can tell from afar.”

Minah raises her eyebrows a little as she says this.

“Yeah…”

You can't finish your food anymore and she notices. What a bummer, you wish you weren't so transparent.

“Damn, girl. He really messed you up, huh?”

What she said was far from funny, but the tone she used made you laugh somehow, and Minah ended up laughing along with you.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Somehow you feel a little lighter after telling her this. Even though she doesn't know the details, it's enough for her to understand that you two had a complicated relationship and that it's affecting things a little now.

In any case, you can't forget the fact that you urgently need to change your relationship. It is no longer a matter of personal fights, it is a professional matter.

“But…” she pauses a little and chooses her words carefully ”I thought artists like him couldn't date.”

A piece of your heart broke at her words. Is there any part of it still whole?

“He wasn't famous yet.”

Minah looked at you for a few seconds until she understood. Her face became sad.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get into a sensitive topic.”

“It's okay. It's been years anyway.”

It's not okay. But you don't feel comfortable enough to say it. It's best to keep it inside for now.

You feel relieved when you finish lunch and head back to the agency.

But you feel uncomfortable the rest of the day. You can't help but think that everything that's been happening in the last few days just makes you remember more and more what your goodbye was like.

After all these years of suppressing these feelings and trying to move on despite them, it now feels like your life and your sanity are being put to the test. Being constantly reminded of these events, even though almost no one knows about everything that happened, has taken away your peace.

You wonder if this affects Jimin as much as it affects you. You wonder if he thinks about you every time he kisses someone. You wonder if he remembers you two every time he sleeps with someone. Because you think about him every time you do, even if you'd die for it not to happen.

Every time you kiss someone, your mind makes sure to remind you that your first kiss was with him. Every time you have sex with someone, your mind makes even more of a point of reminding you what your first time was like and all the secret places he touched you that night.

Maybe he doesn't know it, but he ruined your life. You couldn't stop thinking about him anymore. And you don't know what you're going to do to make this situation better.

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