#there are definitely others too but these were the first to come to mind

[pkmnprofaspen]

Aqua's probably my second or third pick for teams I'd join if I had to pick one.

The good half of Team Plasma would be my first choice since they're the best from a moral standpoint. Sure, they were misguided before the Neo split but the ones that sided with N are genuinely good people and have learned from their mistakes. But, they aren't really considered a "team" anymore and are more of just a charity, so they might not count.

My second pick is Team Skull. They do their thing not out of a desire to cause harm to others or drastically change how the world works, they're just upset the trials were too hard and are being rebellious. I hear their leader, Guzma, was in a bad situation growing up and that might be a reason they're more aggressive than the usual rebellious teens, but they're generally good people overall and they got a lot nicer after the Alolan Champion spoke with them. They weren't causing much trouble, just putting graffiti on an abandoned town and dancing at people. Plus, they have the best uniforms of any team IMO.

Aqua's third because they're generally chill people. They had much more justification for not realizing awakening Kyogre might be a bad idea than Magma did with Groudon, (Come on, you're a team of SCIENTISTS and you can't figure out that awakening the ancient deity known to cause major droughts might not be the best idea? Also, why did they assume the Blue Orb with the Alpha symbol on it would be the one that controls the red Pokémon associated with the Omega symbol when there was also a Red Orb with the Omega symbol right next to it? I get why the people who just really like fish might be confused there, but actual scientists with actual degrees should understand these things.) they support gay rights and gay wrongs as stated above, and their uniforms are cool and actually appropriate for the place, time, and situation.

Compare that to team uniforms like Magma, which were were DEFINITELY not designed with practicality in mind (What sane person wears a hoodie on top of a sweater while inside a volcano?), Flare's (absolute fashion disaster, also tf was that plan?) or god forbid whatever old tapestry Ghetsis stole from an antiques shop and decided would make a good outfit.

Finally, they're one of the few teams whose names actually make sense. Like, Team Rocket and Team Galactic aren't really doing anything in terms of space travel, (No, Palkia doesn't count. Cyrus wanted to make a new space, not explore the one we already have, and it didn't have anything to do with galaxies.) Team Plasma isn't doing anything plasma-related, (what would that even mean if it was accurate? Would they be doing, like, evil blood plasma donations?) Team Flare is only accurate because they like Fire-type Pokémon and has nothing to do with their actual plans whatsoever, Team Skull doesn't have anything to do with skulls, and Team Star doesn't have anything to do with stars. The only ones that make sense are Team Aqua, who wants more water AKA Aqua, Team Magma who want more volcano eruptions for more land which would make Magma, and Team Yell, who makes the most sense because they absolutely do yell. They yell a lot. Gotta respect those Galarians for putting up with that much noise, couldn't be me.

[kurooh]

★ 02. MORNING ROUTINE !

☆ after filming your first scene and talking it over with your agent, you’re off to your second . . in a maid costume!? once filming is over, you’re roped into an interesting conversation regarding a few other stars.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, everyone is over 21, oral (f receiving), cum eating, maids, awkwardness, creampie, unprotected sex. | 4.9K words

xoxo, juno. SHES BACKKKKK! comment & rb if you enjoyed! thank u to wolfy anon for proofreading ily ♡

SHOWTIME MLIST.

“hey, good morning,” shinsou rushes up to you at the doors, lightly grabbing onto your shoulder before you can walk into the studio. “how’d yesterday’s shoot go for you?”

“good morning!” you reply happily, lighting up as you turn to face your agent. “let’s get some coffee from the place across the street, and i can tell you while we walk?”

“sounds good,” he exhales, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. “it’s definitely getting colder, god. i could seriously use some coffee.”

“ah, it is. anyway, filming wasn’t too bad. i had director iida, i believe? yeah, he was pretty alright.” you and shinsou walk side by side, stopping to hit the button and waiting for the lights to change.

shinsou gives a small smile, crossing the street with you. “how’d it go with your co-star? i figured he’d be a good introduction for you.”

“shōto was nice,” you say, warmth rising to your cheeks. the memory of being pressed against him and fucking is a little blurry, but just thinking about it has your pussy clenching around nothing. the faint feeling of his touch ghosts across your skin, and you clear your throat awkwardly. “um . . i think we ended up doing well together.”

shinsou’s not surprised. after all, he pulled the strings behind the scenes to get you with him.

“that’s good! i’ve been meaning to ask you about what you’re interested to do today,” shinsou holds the door of the coffee shop open for you and follows you inside. “i’ll get you up to speed after we order, alright? and don’t worry, i’ll just cover your drink.”

“oh,” you’re in the middle of unzipping your purse, “you really don’t have to, shinsou! i’ve got it.”

“i insist, it’s my treat.” he leaves no room for you to fight him any further, and you place the order together once it’s your turn.

“what were you saying about filming today?” you draw his attention back to the aforementioned topic as you sit down at a table together to wait for your drinks.

“oh, that’s right. you’ve been booked by a lot of different people, so you’ve gotta choose who you want to film with today. personally, i think you’ve got some decent options.”

“is that so?” you exhale, wondering if anyone else could possibly top your experience with shōto. but of course, you’re employed at a pornography studio, where dreams become reality and anything is possible.

shinsou’s voice drops to a low whisper, his words meant for your ears only. “well, there’s this . . maid thing, or some kind of bdsm shoot.”

“those are not good options,” you groan, closing your eyes briefly in disgust. “who’re the people booking? anyone important?”

“obviously, the maid film is from denki kaminari. the bdsm is—”

you’ve seen denki kaminari’s videos before. he seems to be energetic and also a little pervy, but he’s good looking and you’re not in the mood to be tied up in ropes or chains.

“i’ll go with the maid film. is he offering a lot?”

“kaminari’s a bit . . eccentric,” shinsou offers, waving his hand dismissively. “he doesn’t usually book with a set amount in mind like everyone else does. he prefers to shoot the film and then pay based off of what it makes.”

so, there are a few financial risks when it comes to choosing denki kaminari, but you sigh and bite the bullet. “that’s not ideal, but i’ll take it. when’s it scheduled?”

shinsou looks over at a mounted clock behind you, “if you’re going for this, you’re supposed to be over there in an hour.”

the barista calls out shinsou’s name, and you pick up the coffees while he sends a confirmation email to kaminari’s agent.

your arrival to shinsou’s office is met with an assistant of some kind dropping off a garment bag. through the fabric, you can see big frills and bows that most definitely will be itchy when you’re going around in it.

shinsou takes the bag with a sigh, and the assistant presses a yellow sticky note to the side of it before scurrying off quickly. you pick up the yellow paper and read the messy writing scrawled onto it.

hey! please change into this before arriving to set, director’s orders. we hope the dress is comfortable, even though it doesn’t look like it.

“i assume this is from kaminari?” you say flatly, tugging the sticky note off the bag.

“of course it is,” shinsou replies, holding the door open for you, “you can change in here before you head over. by the way, you’re heading to the fourth floor and turning to the left.”

“thanks, shinsou.”

unzipping the garment bag yields a frilly black and white dress decked out with bows and all kinds of lace. tucked in neatly beside the dress is a folded set of thigh high socks and a prop duster that looks as though it’s never been used. you pull off your clothes and change into the provided ones with little excitement. at the very least, you’ll get paid well and then end up filming something better, hopefully again with shōto.

shinsou nearly drops his phone when you step out of his office in that ridiculous dress—it looks so good on you, accentuating your chest and complimenting your figure beautifully. you fiddle with the bow necktie, fingers tangling in the black fabric. his mouth goes dry when you look up at him shyly, gesturing toward the necktie as best you can.

“could you help me tie this, shinsou?”

“of course,” he nods politely, snapping out of his daze. his nimble fingers undo the knots you’ve created and he ties it easily for you, pulling it into a snug bow. “you look great, by the way.” immediately after the words leave his mouth, he regrets having added that bit, but you smile at him and give him a spin, letting your skirt fan out.

“thanks. wish me luck?”

“good luck,” shinsou laughs dryly, turning away quickly before you can notice the redness blooming on his cheeks. “remember, fourth floor and to the left. there’ll be a sign or something on the door.”

you wave, thanking him again, and you both go your separate ways. the elevator comes quickly, and you go upwards silently, until the elevator stops a floor too early.

“there’s my pretty co-star!” an energetic voice exclaims, and the owner of it steps onto the elevator, practically buzzing with excitement. “come on, we can head up together!”

you recognize him easily; denki kaminari’s signature blond hair has a streak of black through it, and he’s got a winning smile playing on his lips, showcasing his nice teeth.

“it’s nice to meet you,” you say, offering a hand in his direction. his energy isn’t off putting, just a little . . much for the first film of the day. kaminari instead wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you a warm hug as though you’re a long lost friend of his.

the elevator’s chugging upwards slowly, and kaminari’s still wrapped around you. well, okay. this is slightly weird; you’re going to be all over each other in less than twenty minutes and he’s already this friendly? something about him already has you on edge, necktie suddenly feeling like a noose.

you cough, pulling away and practically skittering into the corner of the elevator. he looks at you weirdly, confusion written all over his face, but you straighten and smooth out the ruffles on your dress.

“i’m sorry, it’s—we just met,” you utter, at a loss for words. maybe this is just how he is, but now you’re starting to worry if you’ve jeopardized your dynamic on set with him.

kaminari’s features soften with embarrassment, cheeks growing pink. then he very obviously panics internally, voice frantic and high as he tries to explain himself.

“oh my god! you’re right, i’m so sorry!” he stumbles over his words, and you wonder if the elevator is stuck with how long it’s taking. “i’m sorry, i really . . i’ve wanted to meet you for the longest time, and now you must think i’m a dumbass—ah, sorry!”

at last, the elevator finally comes to a halt. its doors open and you dash out, kaminari following with his head hanging. before you can open the door, he stops you with a sigh.

“wait, i—i want to redo our first meeting.”

you turn, gracing him with your attention and patience. “and how exactly do you plan to redo it?”

“with a proper introduction and handshake. no hugs, i promise.” he seems genuine, and your shoulders start to relax. kaminari extends his hand, a truce, and envelops yours once you reach out too.

“well, you already know me. just call me denki, though, okay? no kaminari or anything.”

“understood, denki.”

the door is thrown open and director yaoyorozu pops her head out, looking left and right.

“there you two are! goodness, i was about to send out a search party.”

“it’s nice to meet you,” you say, shaking her hand and stepping inside behind her. “in the email, you didn’t have any kind of script . . is this some kind of freestyle thing?”

“i am so glad you asked,” she sighs, pulling the sharpened pencil from behind her ear. “i’ve got a simple idea to go off of, but the rest of it is up to you.”

“up to us?” denki chokes out, sounding shocked.

“um, yes?” the director sniffs, confused. “remember, you came to me with all of this.”

“director yaomomo, i thought you’d come up with a script!” he whines lamely, and she only rolls her eyes.

“kaminari, please. next time you’re booking a set, director, and supplies last minute, make sure you’ve got something for them to work with besides a generic concept.”

“director, the pancakes are finished and the set is ready.” a member of the film crew flashes her a double thumbs up and a smile.

“great, thanks so much,” yaoyorozu gushes before turning back toward you and denki. “so, the theme here is maids, of course. in this film, she’ll be waiting on you and waking you up with breakfast while you’re fake sleeping. obviously, you’re aware of what takes place next.”

“so, minimal dialogue?” you ask, folding your arms as you listen closely.

“the scene may have as much dialogue as you want it to. i’ll let you two head off and prep before we get started, okay?”

director yaoyorozu’s dark ponytail swings behind her as she saunters off toward the set to make a few more adjustments. denki waves at you, then heads off toward the changing area while you sigh.

—

“is everyone entirely ready and in position?”

a few stage crew members adjust the lighting and some microphones before giving yaoyorozu confirmation through raised thumbs. she nods toward you, just as someone places a hefty tray into your hands. the silver platter carries a plate stacked high with blueberry pancakes, drizzled in syrup, and a tall glass of orange juice beside it. matching silverware sits neatly beside the plate, atop a folded napkin.

yaoyorozu crosses her legs in her director’s chair, while you try not to shake with the heavy breakfast platter in your hands. orange juice lurches from side to side in the glass, threatening to spill over if you don’t remain steady.

“action!”

you smile when you step through the doorway, sweat beading along your forehead as you try to mask the nervousness. denki’s shirtless and on his stomach in the bed, a mess of sheets and blankets covering his lower half. trembling, you finally set the breakfast platter down on the bedside table, taking a seat on the bed.

denki’s getting hard just from feeling the shift of your weight on the mattress. the director might have to end filming early with the way his breath hitches at the touch of your palm to his back. slowly, you rub his skin in small circles, encouraging him to wake up. is it possible to be aroused from an almost entirely innocent gesture coming from someone you don’t know?

he stirs with a groan, turning over with a yawn. denki looks up at you through hooded eyes, his lower half still tangled in the bedsheets.

“good morning, sleepyhead,” you sigh, a lot less nervous now that you’re no longer holding onto that damn tray. “i made you breakfast and cleaned around the house. gently dusted your figure collection too.”

“t-thank you,” denki smiles, sitting up. “uh, what’s for breakfast?”

“blueberry pancakes and OJ,” you say automatically, cutting a piece off the sticky pastries with the fork. “i think you’ll love it.”

there’s something too intimate about the way you feed him the piece of the pancake, your eyes on his as he swallows it.

“well?” you breathe expectantly, lifting his chin and tilting it toward you when he shyly averts his eyes. the simple gesture startles him, sends his heart into quite the flurry, and denki finds himself fighting to get a grip. really, he’s never been this awkward on set in all his years as a pornstar—in fact, a film like this would be the easiest for him . . so why’s it so difficult?

a few sparks fly between you when denki grabs your chin in return, tugging you into a kiss. you gasp, startled, and he licks into your mouth, letting you taste the sweetness of the pancakes for yourself. seriously, whoever made them deserves head; they’re sweet and fruity, but maybe they just taste better on denki’s tongue.

he moans deeply against your lips, and you swallow the low sound with one of your own. beneath all the frills and lacy ruffles, sticky arousal begins to pool in your panties, soaking through the fabric far too easily. meanwhile, denki’s trepidation melts away fully; he grows more absorbed in the kiss, until he regretfully pulls away for breath.

you look at him through your lashes, nodding blissfully when he looks toward your skirt. denki slowly slips a hand beneath all the fabric and groans loudly, his fingers swiping at your damp panties before moving past the fabric to stroke your slick folds.

before you can move into another kiss, the director lets out a peeved sigh and shakes her head, “cut!”

denki pushes a finger inside of you, savoring the gasp you let out like a piece of specialty candy. “listen to yaomomo for both of us, ‘kay?”

“b-but they’re not rolling,” you protest in a whisper shout, although your hips jerk toward him when he sinks in all the way to his knuckle.

“no rules against it, baby.” the once anxious denki you met thirty minutes ago is gone, replaced with the confident pornstar you’ve come to know through years of watching UA’s videos.

yaoyorozu claps her hands together, facing you and denki but not noticing anything going on beneath the umbrella-like cover of your skirt.

“you’re both doing well so far, but when i said the amount of dialogue was up to you, i didn’t mean no talking at all.”

“do we have to reshoot what we’ve done so far?” you gasp out when denki curls his finger right against your g-spot, sending shockwaves of heat throughout your entire body.

nobody seems to notice the inflection in your voice, and the director offers a small smile.

“no, it’s alright, we’ll just edit everything together before it goes out. you’re both doing great, by the way!” her praise is reassuring, and she hops up onto her chair again, then gestures for the crew members to position the cameras.

“action.”

denki’s lips find yours in a bruising kiss, tongue swiping against your lower lip impatiently. he’s quick to pull you on top of him too, wet fingers tugging up your skirt to give the camera a full view of your soaked panties and ass.

“what about the pancakes?” you ask, remembering the director’s tip about the dialogue. if she were to call cut again, the interruption would surely drive you insane.

“what pancakes?”

“the ones i made for you,” you breathe against his lips, eyes flicking to the bedside table. “over there, with the—”

he takes your distraction as an opportunity to press his face into your neck, taking in the smell of your perfume and the softness of your skin. low and quiet, he whispers into your ear, “fuck, you’ve got no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this—for you.”

you whine as he kicks the bedsheets off his body, firmly placing you atop his hard cock. through your panties and his boxers, you can feel the ridges of his tip and the heat of his body.

“how do you want it?” denki purrs, hands settled on your hips. “from the back . . bent over?”

the options he gives you only ignite the arousal burning in your core further; you move off of him, settling on all fours. the wild look you toss him from over your shoulder makes him groan, and he yanks his underwear and pajama pants off as quickly as he can, hurling them into a corner of the set.

“fuckin’ soaked, baby,” he coos, flipping up your skirt and slipping a few fingers beneath the crotch of your panties. your cunt flutters around nothing as he pulls the underwear off, with enough force for the microphones to pick up the ripping sound that follows. “is this all for me?”

he flings the torn garment off the bed carelessly, and it silently lands somewhere on the carpet.

“o-only for you.”

denki chuckles, and guides his cock toward your entrance, but doesn’t push it in just yet. instead, he strokes the tip up and down, gathering your wetness to provide extra lubrication. the tease has your toes curling and your eyes rolling back; denki gifts your ass with a slap, letting out a low whistle.

“you’ll get what you want soon enough, baby. i just . . feel like something’s missing.”

you look over your shoulder when the bed creaks, your co star’s weight leaving the mattress. he grabs at the drawer of the bedside table, and the glass of orange juice rattles against the silver platter from the movement. even director yaoyorozu looks a little lost for words, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

the drawer slams shut and denki returns to the bed behind you in a flash, a miniature black and white vibrator between his fingers. yaoyorozu settles back into her chair with a contented expression, signaling for the cameraman to zoom in between your bodies.

the soft, rubbery head of the vibrator nudges against your clit and you gasp. denki slants his body over yours, pushing his cock inside of you shallowly.

“i—i don’t think i can t-take all of it,” you swallow nervously, inhaling sharply when he bucks his hips forward and plunges inside you, bottoming out easily.

“that’s fuckin’ nonsense,” he groans, pushing a hand through his blond hair to get it away from his eyes. then it wraps loosely around your throat before you can protest any further. “‘course my girl can take it.”

my girl?

denki startles even himself. but this is the magic of being a pornstar and filming around the clock. he’s built up a persona for himself that he always seems to slip into no matter how he’s feeling. he’s thankful for this; otherwise, he’d be a bumbling fool who’d accidentally fuck your thighs, too caught up with excitement to get it together.

his teeth sink into his lower lip hard, scraping against the skin rather roughly as the words burst from his lips uncontrollably.

“g-god, you’ve got no idea how damn long i’ve been waiting to fuck this pretty pussy,” the vibrator turns on and presses flush against your clit, already at the highest setting. “ngh, you’re so tight, baby—got me all worked up with the little maid dress, heh. you look beautiful in it, i swear.”

his babbling soon falls on deaf ears, and you unintentionally tune him out, unable to hear him clearly over your ragged moans and cries. denki’s hips set a somewhat even pace, skin smacking into skin while the vibrator seems to only get more intense.

“c’mon, babe, arch a lil more for me,” he huffs, his palm nudging against the middle of your back.

with a whine, you do as he instructs, burying your face in the sheets.

“aw, i still wanna hear you clearly.” denki clicks his tongue, his fingers leaving the sides of your throat and instead tugging on your necktie. he turns it backwards and pulls your head back so you’re not muffled any longer.

“f-fuck, you’re so deep,” you sob, his strokes growing faster and rougher. the bed creaks beneath you, shaking loudly, and despite his panting, denki’s determined to give you the best sex you’ll ever have at UA studios.

“yeah, babe? feel my cock right here in your tummy?” denki’s voice is strained, his free hand wandering to the plush skin above your pelvis. he presses down experimentally, and he swears you get tighter.

it’s only a little pressure, but it sends shockwaves of something intense throughout your body and knocks the breath from your lungs.

“ooh, you’re squeezin’ me real tight,” denki comments breathily, “i want you to cum for me, got that?”

“‘m so close,” you sob, tossing your ass back onto his cock. “wanna—wanna cum on your cock!”

this is it. this is the big moment where he makes you cum twice on camera and shows all his friends who can fuck you the best. his mouth feels dry and he’s unable to say much of anything to spur you on, talk you through it.

the noisy metal bedframe squeaks louder, the mattress sliding side to side from all the movement. denki doesn’t let up, biting down on his lip so hard he draws some blood while he fucks you through the exhaustion and pain in his sides.

at last, highly anticipated euphoria courses through your bodies at the same time, and his cock begins to twitch against your cervix. a whiny moan tears from his lips as he spills deep inside you, trembling hands grabbing at your waist for purchase. the vibrator maintains its high setting, not letting up even once—in the moment, it’s amazing to ride the waves as you cum, but as you’re coming down, you begin to shudder away from it.

“hah—ah, shit,” you cry, voice pitching. denki pulls out of you, eyes widening in delight as he looks over your sloppy cunt, drooling with a mixture of your cum and his own. glossy strings of white leak from your hole, sticking to your thighs every time you jerk away from the vibrator. “i-it’s too much.”

“oh, ‘m sorry babe,” the words roll off his tongue, each syllable oozing with faux sympathy. lucky for you, denki clicks the vibrator off and tosses it somewhere in the sheets. you don’t notice him moving to lay on his stomach, too busy trying to catch your breath. “she’s looking messy down there, hm?”

denki’s breath now fans over your wet pussy, his words low and sultry. you look over your shoulder in confusion, sweat shining on your forehead, bitten lips parting to ask a question, but he interrupts.

“i can clean her up for you.”

with that final statement, denki’s tongue presses flat against your slit and he moans, tasting the evidence of what seems to be his best porno yet. he slurps up the mess eagerly, holding you in place by your hips whenever you try to squirm away.

it’s bittersweet, slick pouring down his chin and making his skin shine while his own cum colors his lips white. you can’t do anything but whimper, looking back at him through hooded eyes that well with tears of overstimulation.

“i know, i know,” he mumbles into you when your body jolts, and you suck in a sharp breath. “i jus’ want to make sure you can’t move after this.”

a thorough pussy pounding and now this? there’s no way you’ll be able to stop shaking.

nimble fingers find your swollen clit and give it a light pinch, then gently stroke over it; he thinks the reaction it elicits from you is absolutely delicious—your expression crumbles and you rock your hips back against his face, dragging your cunt all over him.

he’s drunk on your scent and taste, taking as much of you in as he can. director yaoyorozu looks pleased as she whispers something to a member of the film crew, but you don’t even notice her through the sweltering haze of arousal. denki pushes the skirt further up your body, and the resounding sob that leaves your lips has him smiling against your cunt.

against your slit, his silky tongue paints peculiar patterns that your dizzy brain manages to register as the letters of his name. “fuck, ‘m gonna c-cum, ‘s coming—” your fingers tangle in his blonde hair, yanking him into your cunt as the high hits you, toes curling and teeth chattering together.

denki’s eyes roll back as you cum on his face, but then you’re trembling and moving away when the sensitivity finally sets in. your pussy is puffy and twitching, entirely spent for the day.

“woah,” he catches you with an arm when you drop flat on the bed, shuddering with the aftershocks of it all. “you good, baby?”

his lips press into your temple and you nod, huffing as you try to catch your breath. unconsciously, you start to cuddle into him, arms wrapping shakily around his torso.

it’s hard to remember where you are, stars swirling in your vision, but the sight of the microphone a few meters away snaps you back into professional mode. god, you haven’t been this dazed since your early days at shiketsu, where you’d been booking with some of the biggest men at the studio.

“i-i wish i didn’t have to, but,” you huff quietly, slowly raising from the bed to smooth out your dress and then look for your panties. you make a big show of bending over, giving the camera a great view of your quivering, dripping cunt. you swipe the underwear from the carpet with a relieved sigh, turning to face denki, who’s nibbling at his lower lip, already hard again. “i’m not finished cleaning the house yet. maybe i can make you some lunch later, when i’m done?”

the cheeky suggestion has an unintentional effect, denki’s cheeks darkening perfectly for the scene. he nods slowly, caught in a stupor. you blow a kiss toward him, stepping through the fake doorway and off the set.

after a beat of silence, director yaoyorozu calls for a cut. she hops off her tall chair and claps excitedly, while crew members rush to strip the bed and clean up the set. on jelly-like legs, you wobble over to her, standing beside denki with a small smile.

“excellent, the two of you,” she praises, ponytail swishing as she nods. “i’ll update both of your agents once we get this to the editors. hehe, my intuition tells me this’ll do very well.”

you thank her together, before parting your separate ways toward the dressing areas—at least you try to, but denki trails behind you quietly, cheeks still blazing pink.

“kaminari, is everything alright?” you step behind the shoji screen, the makeshift dressing room. without needing to be asked, his fingers find the zipper at your back and he loosens the maid dress for you.

“denki,” he corrects you with an embarrassed laugh, leaning his body against the shoji in an attempt to come across as relaxed. “i wanted to ask you about—”

the shoji screen topples over the moment his weight rests against it, smashing to the floor with a loud bang! you shriek, gathering the dress up around your chest as your co-star rushes to pick it up before anyone can look over. he is unsuccessful, much to your chagrin.

“oh my fucking—i’m so sorry, shit.”

“what is it you wanted to ask, denki?” you ask, embarrassed. it’s like you’re back to square one again, as if you weren’t just doing the nastiest things together less than ten minutes ago. he throws a hand behind his neck, awkwardly scratching the skin as he tries to calm his nerves.

“okay, look. me and a few friends of mine—UA stars—” he adds in that bit in case you need some extra convincing, “are hosting a little get together. i’m thinking maybe you can come and hang out for a little while? i can pick you up, if you—”

“that’s very nice of you.”

the interruption makes his heart drop straight into his ass, and he immediately looks down at his bare feet. but then you speak up, and he feels a spark of hope in his chest. after all, he did promise his friends that he’d introduce you to them.

“i live nearby, i moved apartments to be closer to the studio,” you admit, fingers loosening on the dress. “what time is it? i’d be willing to meet some other stars, get acquainted with everyone.”

denki looks at you, joy written all over his face. he flashes you a bright smile, nodding as he collects his thoughts. “everything starts at eight. i can just pick you up, ‘kay? here, i’ve gotta give you my number.”

you laugh, pushing him back. “i’ve gotta change first, the dress is really itchy. we’ll work it out when i’m done, sound good?”

he steps out from behind the shoji screen after nodding, gold eyes shining. before he can walk away toward his own makeshift dressing room, you stop him, smiling in a way that makes his heart flutter in his chest.

“hey, denki? by the way, i’m really looking forward to tonight.”

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 24

masterpost

“We should make H— Jason spend some time in here,” Danny said. He was good with the rest of the name now, but he still struggled with with Jason. He was trying. “He could use the reason to relax.”

“I do not believe that Todd is capable of relaxing,” Damian said with a little frown and Danny was pretty sure meant Damian was uncertain, but other people tended to think that it meant Damian was judging them.

“Sure he can. He makes a great pillow too,” Danny said. He leaned over and bumped his shoulders against Damian’s. “Totally bet if you just just sat down and leaned against him, he wouldn’t do anything.”

“Tch.”

“Okay, sure, half of that would be because he’d be too shocked, but really. He’s secretly a cuddler but, like, in a totally different way than Dick. Jason is more like Cass is.”

Damian’s brows were knitted together, but he gave a considering little nod at that.

Danny was glad that Damian went through the door to the hall first. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, exactly, but being out of the apartment now felt wrong and bad and… scary. Danny knew that had delayed them taking him to the Manor and was making some of them anxious, but Danny just couldn’t… it was hard to shake, even if everywhere they went had been safe.

“How were the kittens, Dandelion?” Jason asked. He was leaning against one wall and Lacey stood next to him, looking at something on her phone.

“Pointy,” Danny said with a little smile, “and very cute.”

“We are going to go see the dogs now instead,” Damian said.

“Okay,” Lacey said with a smile. “Your brother and I were talking about what might work for you. I think we have a few options, but I actually have someone in mind for you to meet first of the bunch. She might not work at all but… I have a hunch.”

“As ludicrous as it sounds, Ms. Lacey’s hunches do often play out,” Damian said. “Which dog are we going to see?”

“You haven’t met her yet. She just came here from another shelter because the last one didn’t have the space for her. Before that she was out in the suburbs where she had been adopted, but she kept trying to herd all the other animals and children. They got her from a shelter where she had been surrendered by her owners because they moved to a new apartment that wouldn’t let a dog like her in.”

Danny frown grew as Lacey talked. “Oh, wow… she’s been through a lot of homes, hasn’t she?”

“She has, and it’s really not her fault. She’s only a year and a half old, so she’s still a bit of a puppy and will need training, but she’s a real sweetheart and I think she just needs the right person to love her back.” Lacey paused in front of a door and opened it to some sort of waiting room. “Now, she is a large dog, so I’ll keep her on a harness when I bring him in and you let me know when you’re comfortable for her to come close, okay?”

“Okay,” Danny agreed. He knew he had told Damian not small, but he was suddenly a little concerned by how large was large.

Jason must have been able to tell, because he led Danny over to the small couch to sit down with him while Damian scooted the chair he chose closer to Danny’s open side.

Very, was the answer to how large was large a few minutes later when Lacey brought in a huge dog. The bright red harness barely visible through the mass of black fur that seemed to stand straight out from the dog in a massive mane.

“Okay, come on girl, down,” Lacey said, drawing out the words.

When the large, deep black eyes turned to her, she pointed purposefully at the ground. The dog huffed and settled on the floor looking like some avant guard throw pillow. She snuffed curiously at the group and shuffled forward a few inches on her belly before peering up at Lacey to see if she was noticed.

“Stay. Like I said, still a puppy,” Lacey said fondly.

“What breeds do we suspect she is?” Damian asked.

“She’s definitely a large part chow,” Lacey answered. “She has the black mouth and everything. We’re guessing black lab maybe as some of the rest or some other sporting dog. From those breeds, and her behavior so far, she’s going to be loyal and protective. She will need to be exercised as specially at this age she’ll have a lot of energy, but I know you have the yard to let her run. Fetch or retrieval games will be great stimulation for her and walks can probably be kept pretty short, but I know that Damian could help you train her. Do you want to come over here and let her smell your hand? Or we could just let her settle in and wander the room.”

“I’ll, um…” Danny trailed off as he moved to sit down on the ground at Jason’s feet. He leaned forward and offered his hand, stretching out as far as he could.

The mass of fluff crept forward a few inches, then a few more, and the last few to where she was close enough to sniff at Danny’s hand. The curly tail started to wag before the dog gave Danny’s hand a lick.

A small smile lit up Danny’s face. “Oh, you’re just a big fluffy sweetheart, aren’t you?”

“She really is. She gives me the biggest puppy dog eyes every time someone passes her and doesn’t give her attention. She really wants nothing more than to be with people or other pets and part of a family,” Lacey said.

Danny watched the dog snuff at Danny’s hand before he decided that it was probably okay to move forward a little more so that he could pet the dog. His fingers sank into the thick black fur and the curly tail started to wag.

“She’s kinda like a big teddy bear,” Danny said, completely missing the look that Damian and Jason exchanged behind his back at that statement.

“Chows are like that.,” Lacey agreed. “They get a bad rep because they can be really protective of their owners, so if she’s the dog you go with, you will need to work on socializing her. Taking her to the dog park or things like that would be a good step.”

“It will help that there is such a large amount of family and acquaintances coming and going from the manor,” Damian added. “But if she is the dog that will be yours, we can easily set up a plan for socialization.”

“I, um, I’ve never adopted a pet before. How do I know if she’s the right one?” Danny asked.

“Seeing if you get a long is a good start. With a big dog like her, I think you should walk him a little and play some. We can try some tricks too and see how she listens to you,” Lacey said. “We have a two week trial window where if you think she’s the right dog, she’ll go home with you and you can see how it all works out. If it doesn’t, she comes back here no issues.”

Danny took in a calming breath and let it out. “Okay, let’s see how it goes.”

The dog was a lot. There was no doubt about that what with her size, but she did seem very eager to listen. She apparently walked very well with Danny, even if that was almost sandwiched up against Danny’s side between him and the road. It reminded him of how Jason always walked, as if guarding Danny from the world.

There back at the shelter now. Danny buried his fingers in the dog’s thick fur, ruffling it idly.

“What do you guys think?” he asked his brothers.

“I think that she will be a loyal dog for you,” Damian said, “and that training her may also be beneficial for you.”

“That,” Jason said, “and that she likes you already just like you like her already. I think the only real question is what’s her name going to be?”

Danny looked down at the almost bottomless seeming brown eyes that were staring adoringly back up at him. “Ursa. Her name’s Ursa.”

-

Ursa took to the Manor immediately— or at least took next to being by Danny’s side in the manor. His bed seemed much smaller with her laying next to him, but he had a feeling it he woke up that night with a nightmare that it wouldn’t last long.

His fingers tightened in her mane as he took a breath and hit send on the text message to Babs.

Her name is Jasmine Fenton.

[kamiversee]

˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

10 | I know that's

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | language, tension, flirting, mention of drugs & alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, taunting, etc.

❧ Word Count | 7.2k (phew.)

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——Back in your room, you wasted no time calling Gojo back. That whole… thing with Choso is something you’ll save your worrying for another day. As of right now, Gojo should be your main focus since you have a Halloween party to attend with him tonight.

Laying stomach first across your surprisingly neatly made bed, your feet dance back and forth in the air as you hold your cellphone to your ear and listen to Gojo ramble to you about his day. He didn’t address the phone hanging up at all or the way he definitely heard Choso’s voice before the line disconnected earlier—he just got on the phone, asked if you were alright, and then when back to what he’d been telling you before.

Which brings a nice smile to your face. It’s refreshing to have someone like Gojo to talk to, honestly. Not only do you really enjoy conversing with him or listening to him talk but, you also like how he didn’t question you like crazy. That simple act alone took some weight off of your shoulders because it meant you didn’t have to lie again. God knows you hate lying to the guy. 

But you’re not gonna tell him the truth either because the truth is terrible. How do you even being to explain to your crush that you almost fucked your best friend again in the short amount of time you were off of the phone with him?

“So,” Gojo continues, clearing his throat a bit between words. “Aside from tonight’s party, you don’t have any plans for today, right?”

Your head tilts further against the phone as you release a gentle sigh, “To my knowledge, no I don’t have any other plans. Why?”

He yawns softly, “Because, that gives us enough time to go last-minute costume shopping, remember?”

Chuckling into the phone, your lips curve into a smile. “Don’t you have work?” You ask.

You can’t see it of course but, Gojo rolls his eyes at that, “I mean, yeah… But I’m sure my boss won’t mind if I close up a bit early. It’s Halloween.”

“If you say so,” You comment. “I’m assuming you want me to meet you at the cafe in a few hours then?”

“Yup,” Gojo hums with a sassy lil pop of the ‘p’ at the end there. “Til’ then, I’ll have to drown myself in work. My break’s about to be over.”

You click your tongue and frown a bit, “Aw, well hopefully time flies by fast.”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Once off of the phone with Gojo, you spend your day holing yourself up in your bedroom in an honest attempt of avoiding Choso. Luckily for you, at no point did he come knocking on your door trying to gain a bit of your attention. This provided you with a rather relaxing morning and afternoon of bedrotting.

Not the most productive thing to do but, hey, at least time flew by pretty fast. After lazying around for hours waiting for the right time, you ended up rolling out of bed and throwing on something cozy to go out in—you’d be changing into a costume in an hour so there was no point in dressing up too cute or anything. 

You end up exiting you apartment wearing something easy to get in and out of so that when you do find your costume, and in the event that it later gets uncomfortable, you have something else to throw back on. 

Taking a walk all the way throughout your campus just to reach that cute lil’ cafe you’ve grown to love and adore, you felt the season of fall brushing all against your skin as you walked. It’s as if that hectic morning of yours never even took place with how peaceful this part of your day was. For just a moment, it was only you and your thoughts. No horny Choso humping against you like a dog in heat, no anxiety induced thoughts screaming at you everytime Gojo talks to you… just, tranquility.

And when you finally arrive at the designated coffeehouse you’ve been to time and time again, a smile is painted across your face before you even push past the front doors. The sun is making it’s set so the sky is all pretty with different hues of oranges and reds—something you took a few pictures of on your way here.

Grabbing a hold of the warm metal door handles, you give it a light push and that homey smell of coffee rushes into your nose. A smell in which you’ve grown quite fond of given what follows shortly after…

No one is inside except for Gojo so the smile on your face merely brightens as you meet eyes with him. Almost like a damn puppy, his entire demeanor lightens up at your presence, pretty dimples peaking out in his cheeks as he reciprocates your happy expression.

You’re approaching the counter and he’s making his way around it, all too quick to embrace you by wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and pulling you in close. Gojo lets out a long sigh, “Been’ waiting all day to do this, y’know.” He tells you, voice muffled slightly with the way his face slowly barries itself into the crook of your neck.

You hug him back with the same amount of passion he’d approached you with and then smile. “Do what? Hug me?” Your voice is gentle against his ears and unbeknownst to you, his heart feels all weird in his chest. Then there’s these flutters your feel in your stomach at how good he smells and how stupidly clingy he seems to be today.

It’s this strange mix of coffee beans and his cologne that seeps into your nose now, making you hug him just a bit tighter to simmer into the scent some more. He smells like a hard working man and you simply love that for whatever reason. You suppose that thing people say about a man in uniform is true after all…

“Yeah,” Gojo soon answers your question whilst lifting his face from your neck and meeting your eyes again. His gaze stays put for barely even a second before he’s cracking a smirk and leaning in to kiss you. 

A brief grin ghosts your lips as he kisses you. Your arms firmly wrap around his neck and you push up on your toes a bit to deepen the connection of your mouths. Gojo’s lips feel like comfort against your own, almost as if you were ice and he the sun—his every touch melting you in his hands. You let out a small hum in between the kiss as he slots his lips against yours further, steadily drawing your bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it.

His tongue dances against the plump skin for only a moment before he pries himself away and you both ease out a small breath of air. “And that,” Gojo says, “I swear you’re on my mind all day.”

Such a soft admission spoken to you so suddenly makes you gulp. “Am I now?” You whisper, noticing how he’s leaning back in for another kiss already.

Gojo wets his lips and smiles. “Yeah,” He utters back just as softly, skin brushing over yours, and eyes narrowing, “Jus’ can’t get enough of you.” Is the last thing he tells you before he’s ridding himself of all the space between you two again.

No one else is in the establishment, so you kiss for a hot minute. It’s soft at first, like always, but then it gradually heats up. His hands move to your waist and his head tilts further while his tongue makes its journey into the wet caverns of your mouth. Groaning at the sweet taste resting there, Gojo unconsciously steps forward with you. You naturally follow his lead and he ends up kissing you until your lower back meets the counter.

Not sparing you the chance to break the kiss, Gojo bends down a little and swiftly lifts you up onto the counter—his lips never once leaving yours. He feels starved as he makes out with you right in the middle of where he works. Hushing out a simple, “Taste s’sweet,” In between your lips.

You mutter his name somewhere throughout the kissing and one of your hands ends up on his chest, very faintly pushing him. As the kiss is severed, Gojo has this needy expression all over his face and his cheeks are reddened. He’s so pretty that it genuinely hurts to look at. It almost isn’t fair.

“Don’t we have some shopping to do?” You remind the man in a slightly breathless tone. 

Gojo bats his lashes at you almost innocently. “Yeahh, but we have time, don’t we?” As the words roll off of his tongue, his lips are curving into that taunting little smile again, and then his dimples are making yet another appearance.

His hands, which are so stupidly soft, trace the outskirts of your thighs upon the counter. Those almost beryl-blue eyes of his scan over your face, taking in every inch and curve, studying you, and getting mesmerized by you. If you looked way too closely into it all, you’d almost asume the guy was in lo—

You clear your own throat to cut that thought off. “No, it’s Halloween, silly.” You remind him with a smile, glancing down to your hands on his chest and moving your fingertips to trace what you can feel beneath his clothes. “There’s barely gonna be costumes as is, the later we go, the less there’ll be.”

Gojo sighs while he thinks for a moment. His bottom lip protrudes as he pouts and you can’t help the way you chuckle at that. “S’not funny. I really did miss you,” He tells you again, tipping his head down into your neck and pressing his lips against your skin, “But you’re right, we probably should head out now.” He’s agreeing with you with his words but the way he’s planting these soft pecks against your neck is saying something else entirely.

His kisses tickle and you end up holding onto his shirt a bit and letting out a giggle, “Satoru,” You call out once, receiving no sign of him stopping his ticklish kisses. Then you squirm and he smiles against you. “‘Toru,” You say, to which his teeth graze you.

“Such a tease,” Gojo simmered into your skin hotly. “Callin’ me that nickname like you don’t know what it does t’me…”

Full on smiling now, you angle your head to look at him and he pulls away from your neck to meet that incoming gaze. His pupils seem to expand ever so slightly as they’re met with yours but, you may have imagined that. “It does something to you?” You ask innocently as you push forward to slide off of the counter, “I had no idea…!”

That cheery faux innocence in your tone makes Gojo’s smile expand before his eyes roll. He watches the way you step aside and straighten up your clothes before sending him one last glance. Something about you really keeps his mind at this mushy state because every time his eyes lock with yours it’s like he can’t form a single thought in his brain that doesn’t involve you.

Staring, letting a small moment of the eye contact pass by, Gojo scoffs softly. “Riight, sure you didn’t.” He replies to your last comment sarcastically.

After that brief conversation, which could’ve easily progressed into something more if you didn’t stop him, you assist Gojo in cleaning up the cafe so he can leave with you. All you had to do was wipe a few tables off and then you watched him sweep and mop. It seemed like not many people had come in today given the state of the kitchen and how clean it was (you’d picked up on how messy it gets when Gojo is swamped with customers a while back).

Small talk is held almost the entire time up until he finally closes up and walks you to his car. It’s then that silence is welcomed back into your space and even as you walk with him, you still feel this comforting air wrapping around you. Especially when Gojo throws an arm over your shoulder and soon opens his car door for you. He’s so strangely perfect that you can’t help the way you feel for him.

Even throughout the car ride to… the nearest costume shop? He plays a bunch of Halloween songs and throughout Micheal Jackson’s ‘Thriller’, you notice that even Gojo’s singing is perfect. Hence why by the time you two make it to your destination your cheeks hurt from how hard you’d been smiling and you can hardly remember the last time a guy, aside from Choso, has made you laugh this much.

The shop he takes you to is rather… pricey, you note as the two of you stroll through together. And yeah, most of the shelves are cleared off and whatever’s left isn’t anything super creative. Gojo guides you to the back of the store though and you swear he had this all planned out in his head with the way he leads you straight to a particularly cute couples costume. 

“Y’know,” You start off, picking up the clearly designated costume that stands out in contrast to the other last-minute options left on the surrounding shelves. “If you wanted us to wear matching costumes, you could’ve jus’ said something.” 

When you glance back to Gojo, you notice the way he’s got a hand scratching the back of his neck and is looking off to the side nonchalauntly. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, sweets…” He hums, that faint pigment of pink coating his cheeks yet again.

You snort, “Really? So how is it that you’ve led me all the way back here and straight to the only decent costumes left in this store?” As you speak, you lift the two costume packages up and hold them out to showcase them to him. “Not to mention, they just so happen to be the only matching ones too.” 

Gojo redirects his eyes to the items in your hand and he grins innocently. “This is a coincidence, really.” He chuckles, “I mean why would I—“ He stops himself mid-sentence at the look you’re giving him and just ends up sighing in defeat. “Okay, okay, fine,” His hands went up, “Ya’ caught me.”

You smile, “Mhm, I know. Now, are you gonna go ahead ‘n ask me to match with you orr…?”

His shoulders sink a bit, “Do I have tooo? You’re already holding the costumes, are you really gonna make me ask—“

“Yep,” You hum in response with a mocking pop of the ‘p’.

Gojo scoffs playfully. “Fine.” He starts, stepping closer to you, “Do you wanna be the cowgirl to my cowboy and y’know, ride throughout this Halloween night with me?”

There’s half a beat of silence that passes after the cheesiness that just left his lips before you burst out laughing. “You’re so corny, oh my God.” You snicker out in an airy tone.

He joins your giggling with his own and then tips his head to the side, “So is that a yes orrrr…?”

Rolling your eyes, you nod. “Yeah, I’ll be the cowgirl to your cowboy tonight, Satoru.” Then you hand him his designated costume and brush past him.

Gojo clenches his fist and brings it down to himself in celebration, whispering a little, “Yess.” To himself childishly while you make your way to the nearby dressing room.

There were other last minute costumes that’d caught your eye on your way to the back of the store but, you think you’re pretty content with the cowgirl costume you end up putting on. Sure, you passed the classics like witches, cheerleaders, vampires, ghosts, etc… but this costume fits you so well that it’s almost as if it were made for you.

It fits your body almost like a leather glove but without being too uncomfortable or tight. It’s a top and bottom set—mostly consisting of black and an accenting hint of red here and there. 

Once you get it on, your body is quickly flattered by the fabric. The top is long sleeved, cropped up high, and has a knot that ties right in the lower center of your chest with a vest that has these sparkly red stars on it. Then there’s the sorry excuse for shorts accompanying the top, that’s decorated with this semi-chunky belt with matching sparkly red stars. Lastly were the boots and hat, both black with hints of red, that completed the look.

And once you got a glance of yourself in the nearby mirror, you were gagged by how good you look. You spun around to get a full view of yourself, noticing the hug that the shorts have on your ass, shaping you perfectly. Hell, you almost never wanna take this damn thing off. And contrastingly enough, part of you is a bit self-conscious to actually go out like this.

It’s not until you take a deep breath and step out of the dressing room that your confidence returns to you with the wolf-whistle you recieve from Gojo. Your eyes had been somewhere on the floor until you heard the sound he let out, lifting your gaze to find him slouching back against some chair he managed to find and pull up. He’s got his legs all spread like some slut (not that you’d ever say this aloud, of course) and you don’t think there’s a single thought of innocence in your head as you take in the sight of him.

His costume is matching yours but, there’s a lot less skin showing, obviously. The shirt he has on is rolled up to his elbows and he’s got a teasing amount of his chest revealed—matching you with that low v-cut top you have, except his shirt is just a bunch of buttons undone.

His lower half is your typical pair of cowboy pants, all snug against his thighs, fabric straining over his muscles, and—

“Eyes up here sweets’,” Gojo says with a snap of his fingers. You flinch and revert your gaze to his face, gulping at the way he’d caught your gaze trailing elsewhere. “There she is,” He purrs, motioning with two fingers for you to walk toward him, “C’mere. Lemme get a better look at’cha.”

You almost awkwardly shuffle over to him, shyly covering your exposed midsection and trying to calm the pounding of your heart with each step you take. “Satoru, d-don’t you think this is a bit…” You hate how nervous you are right now, as if he hasn’t seen you with less clothes before.

Once you find yourself standing right in between his legs, he peers up at you with that ridiculously handsome smile of his. “A bit what?” Gojo hushes out as he reaches forward and moves your arms out the way to expose all of you to his greedy eyes. “I think you look perfect, like always.” He practically whispers, leaning forward and planting an all too affectionate kiss onto your stomach.

You flinch again and instinctively move your hand to his shoulder to push him back a bit, “Thank you but, I feel exposed.”

He acts as though you shoved him back, slumping into the chair like he was before and giving you this lovestruck expression as he meets your eyes. “S’okay,” Gojo tells you, “I’m sure there’ll be a lot more people wearing a lot less tonight so, you’ll feel more comfortable once we’re there.”

You give him a little nod in response and he moves his hands to trace your hips, feeling the tight fabric of your shorts beneath his fingertips and taking a deep breath. 

“And if not,” He moves to stand up and you’re reminded of the height difference between you two all over again. “I’ll give you my jacket or something, okay?”

Nodding again, you feel so safe beneath his gaze—almost like nothing else really matters when you’re around him. 

Once that’s all been settled, you and Gojo leave the costume shop. You forget to question him about how the hell you two were able to leave without paying for anything but, the rest of the night takes over all those questions you love asking him so much.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Before you even know it, you’re pulling up to this huge house, distant thumping sounds of music and giggles heard throughout the air as Gojo parks his car not too far off. There’s vehicles placed all down the street, people all over the front yard, some just hanging out and others taking pictures or even making out.

It’s been a while since you last attended a party but, the sight of multiple skimpy outfits brings you a sense of comfort as soon as you step out of the car. The music from the house is so loud that you can’t even make out what song is playing right now due to the bass. Even so, Gojo quickly approaches your side and rightfully places his arm over your shoulder like he did earlier, keeping you nice and close to him while the two of you make way for the entrance.

The atmosphere is overly lively. You can hear and see people laughing, talking, dancing, drinking, etc. The music vibrates off of the house walls as you and Gojo walk in, shuffling past hella people just to make it fully inside. The house-, mansion, really, is packed with semi-drunk college students and you’re quickly reminded why you don’t surround yourself with party goers almost every weekend like you used to. 

There’s definitely heads turning as you and Gojo navigate through the crowd of people but, you can’t really tell if that’s because of him or you.

You would’ve loved to say that Gojo was the most attractive man there but… it’s really hard to say that when you’re quickly stopped by some tall polished blonde man wearing a priest costume. Ignoring the way Gojo’s got an arm around your shoulder entirely, this guy grins at you kindly and he’s got the prettiest honey brown eyes taking in all of you as he leans toward you to voice a compliment.

“Beautiful costume,” The man says to you simply. From where you and Gojo had made it to, the music wasn’t overwhelming and you could actually talk to someone without yelling or leaning in too close.

Naturally, you smile in thanks and give him a little nod. “Thank you, I like yours as well. You’re a priest, right—“

“Nanami!” Gojo beams beside you, unconsciously telling you the name of the blonde man you were seconds away from making casual conversation with. “The hell are you doin’ here?” He asks in a taunting tone.

Nanami’s face flicks into something tired at the mere sound of Gojo’s voice. “I should be asking you that, Gojo. You’re supposed to be at work right now.” He says sternly.

Gojo chuckles lightly, “Oh don’t be like that, boss.” He says, taking his arm from around you and moving to tap Nanami on his arm, “It’s Halloween!”

Nanami sighs. “Yes, yes, I know. That’s why I’m not upset or anything but, you could’ve sent a text. I’d like to be aware of whether or not my cafe’s closing early.”

It suddenly clicks for you that Nanami owns that beloved cafe you visit practically everyday—something which, getting a good look at his chiseled face, just fits him. Nanami is exactly what you imagined Gojo’s boss looking like, honestly. The only thing surprising you here is the fact that he’s around the same age.

You’re about to say something to insert yourself back into the conversation but you’re interrupted by a familiar voice. “Oh my God, Satoru! You made it!!” Hori says overly cheerful.

By the time you turn your head to spot her, her arms are wrapping around Gojo’s waist and she’s hugging him tightly. Gojo hugs her back with one arm and forces a friendly smile onto his face.

“Hey Hori,” Gojo greets rather plainly. “Are you dressed as a… bunny?” He asks as he looks down at her within his grasp. You couldn’t really see her because of the way she was hugging Gojo but that didn’t bother you too much when Nanami steals your attention away with a light tap.

“I didn’t get your name,” He says to you, having leaned in a bit so that you could hear him clearly.

“Oh,” You chirp before extending a hand out and voicing your name to him. Nanami nods as he shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Nanami.” You greet officially.

He grins kindheartedly, “The pleasure is all mine, honestly.”

There’s a moment of prolonged handshaking before someone bumps into Nanami’s arm and your hands disconnect. You both look to see who it is and you’re met with this brown haired guy dressed as some kind of criminal (?). Tugging the skimask up off of his face, your eyes are greeted with a very contrasting face. He’s got these big doe-like eyes and his features scream innocence in a way.

“Woah, you’re pretty,” He chuckles, clearly tipsy off of whatever drink seems to be held in his left hand. “Y’Mind if I get your number?”

Your eyes go wide at his straightforwardness and all you do is smile at first. “Uh, I’m actually…” You slowly glance to where Gojo is, only to find that he’s been dragged elsewhere with Hori. You see his a peek of his snowy white hair amid the crowd and your shoulders slump a bit at how quickly he just left your side. Turning back to the brunette male, you nod, “Y’know what, yeah, sure.”

Nanami clears his throat and his phone is held out soon, “Me too actually,” He chimes in.

With that, you're entering your number into the two guy’s phones and then handing their devices back to them. The brunette soon informs you that his name is Ino and the three of you stand there making small talk for a bit.

It’s mildly concerning that Gojo just left you like that but you distract yourself with the two men talking to you at the moment. 

After chatting with them for a bit, they eventually part ways with you and you navigate your way through the sea of party people alone. There’s not a single familiar face throughout the crowd and it’s not until you notice you’re getting stares from people that you start feeling self conscious again. 

You thought that maybe if you made your way to the dance floor and vibed by yourself for a bit, you’d be fine. But, you don’t even make it that far because somewhere throughout your shuffling through people, someone grabs a light hold of your arm and pulls you out of the crowd.

You stumble into step to see who the hell decided to grab you like that. It wasn’t aggressive or anything but it was concerning since you’ve only seen unrecognizable people thus far.

“Finally a familiar face,” The sound of Utahime’s voice hits your ears and she’s turning to face you after pulling you far away enough to talk to you. “Y’know how long I was in that damn crowd looking for literally anyone I knew? I’m so glad I found you.” She says with a sigh.

Your chest feels light as you drink in her wearing a cheerleader costume. “I’m glad you found me too, I was walking around here for maybe ten minutes or so.” You explain.

She rolls her eyes, “I thought you came here with Gojo? Did that asshole ditch you?”

You’re quick to shake your head. “Nono, he didn’t ditch me! I think Hori pulled him off earlier and I was talking with these other guys so we just got separated. Any longer in that crowd and I would’ve called him.”

Utahime pauses for a second while she gathers your words. Then, her expression changes and she smiles at you. “Oh, okay. I was just making sure because Gojo can be a real dickhead sometimes.”

“Think so?” You end up asking. This was the first time you’d heard anything remotely negative about him so, of course your curiosity is piqued.

“Yeah.” She replies, clearly having no intention of going further into an explanation at the moment. Then, with a sigh, she allows her eyes to drop down along your figure. Utahime lets out a small up and her head tilts, “Anyway, you look good—love the costume.” She compliments, her tone light and almost flirtatious.

Though, you could totally be misinterpreting things. “Oh, thank you! I love yours too, it fits you nicely.” Your returned compliment makes her smile and she allows her arms to fold beneath her chest.

“Aww, thanks. I think I—“

“Utahime!!” And there she is again… Hori. Cutting off yet another conversation and spawning into the scene out of seemingly nowhere, dressed as Regina George’s sorry excuse of a bunny from Mean Girls 1 (which is fitting since she’s blonde as well), Hori’s all smiley and her cheeks are lightly flushed. “I was looking for you everywhere. Where’d you run off to?!” She huffs as her arms wrap around Utahime’s singular arm and her head comes to rest on her shoulder.

Utahime says something to respond but all words and sound practically dies out in your ears as a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind and a fluffy head of hair rests on your left shoulder. Flinching at the sudden contact, you don’t even get the chance to say anything before lips are grazing your ear and a familiar spread of warmth is brushing at your skin.

“Was lookin’ for ya’ everywhere, sweets.” Gojo hushes out into your ear. “God, you smell so good,” His voice lowers and the arms around your waist begin to shift along with his head. The tip of his nose is soon felt burying itself into the crook of your neck and he inhales sharply while his slender fingers smooth over the exposed skin of your waist.

Your body tenses up due to all the sudden touches but, a smile is sparking across your lips before you even realize it. “Thank you, Satoru. And, I was looking for you too… for like, ten minutes actually.” You inform him, earning a gruff little hum in response. “You invited me here ‘n then left me in less than five minutes…”

Gojo grimaces once the mentioning of his departure hits his ears. He sighs into your skin before pressing a small kiss at it, “M’sorry. First Hori pulled me away to find Suguru, and then some other people came pulling me along… I should’ve come back for ya’, my bad.”

You lean back against his touch a bit and your back becomes flush with his chest, “It’s okay, I’m glad you found me.”

“Yeahhh,” He sighs. For a second, you begin to wonder if he’s drunk with how sly his words seem to fall off of his tongue. “To make up for it though.. We could go—“

“Lemme guess, dance?” You cut off, recalling the last party you went to with him and how the same exact thing happened then. He really was a people magnet all around, huh?

Chuckling, Gojo gives your body a small tug and your ass is brought back toward his crotch. “You know it,” He says cheekily as he lifts his head from your neck and then drops his hands to your hips. It’s swift the way he spins you around to face him, your hands soon finding place on his chest and your eyes meeting his pretty blue ones. After which, he allows his hands to sneak behind you and grab a nice handful of your ass within his palm.

Ultimately, you were left looking up at him all surprised and confused. Gojo is touchy, sure. He always has been but… he doesn’t normally touch you so intimately out in the open like this. It was different. Not that you minded it but, it left you to wonder who or what he wanted to showcase these touches off to…

His cheeks were similarly flushed to how Hori’s were when you last looked at her, again leading you to wonder if he’d dranken anything. “Satoru,” You call out gently, moving your hands to cup his cheek and lull his expression a bit closer to your own for better study. “Have you been drinking?”

Gojo’s eyes take a second to actually focus on you, which silently tells you all you need to know. “Juuuust a lil’, yeah.” He admits to you.

To which you frown, “You went off and drank without me too? Wowww.” Your voice is clearly dramatic but Gojo seems to pout anyway.

Leaning in to you, he rests his forehead against yours and his arms circulate your waist again as he hugs you properly. “I jus’ had like, one cup of somethin’.” Gojo explains, his voice softening whilst his lashes bat in an innocent manner.

You stare at him. “One cup and you’re tipsy already?” You say, releasing a soft fit of laughter.

Gojo scrunches up his face a bit and you feel like it’s just you and him in the room right now, despite sounds of people laughing and talking all loud surrounding the two of you. “Mhmm. I don’t drink too often ‘cause I can't really handle alcohol too well,” He explains to you with a slight clearing of his throat.

The distant sound of Tory Lanez’s ‘The Color Violet’ can be heard and it makes Gojo lift his head and glance back toward where most people are dancing and the music is at its loudest.

Your eyes remain up on the man, “Should I be worried?”

He looks at you again and smiles, his brows tweezing together. “What? No. I’ve been told I get clingy when I’m drunk but aside from that, I’ve never done anything… stupid, I guess.” You hum in acknowledgement and Gojo starts backing away, tugging you along with him before he motions toward the dance floor. “Now c’mon, I owe you a dance, don’t I?”

It takes you a second or two to allow your body to be pulled properly with him but after that, your hand ends up in his and he soon pulls you through the crowd of people. 

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

The music gradually gets louder and louder until it consumes the entirety of your senses. You could feel the vibrations of the bass within each step you took, the music blurred throughout your ears, and all the dancing and lingering smell of marijuana and alcohol truly gave you that party atmosphere you’d forgotten about over the years. Before you even realize it, Gojo’s got you somewhere lost amid groups and groups of people dancing, trailing you closest to him using the grasp he had on your hand until you were able to dance right with him.

In contrast to dancing at that gala with him, you feel a lot more at ease here (surprisingly). Instead of gentle sways and intimate slow dancing, it’s more of sensual rolling of bodies against one another and long lasting glances all up and down your body that make you feel warmer than you should be. 

Gojo’s got his hands everywhere with little care as to who sees what. From your hips, following their structure and the way you sway them around and against him, to your waist, twirling you around so that your back is facing him one moment and then vice versa so he can gather all of your neon illuminated features.

His favorite bit of the dancing is very obviously when your back is facing him and you dance against him. It’s in the smooth rock of your hips against him that he gets lost in, eyes all casted downward on your lower half, watching the way you dance back against him. One moment he’s smiling and the next he’s genuinely dazed by you. Then again, it could’ve been the alcohol in his system that made all his senses feel heightened like that.

Gojo felt like he was high simply from dancing with you. So much so that at some point he had to ask you if he could go sit down for a bit because you were uh… causing a bit of stiffening to stir up in between his legs. Part of you wanted to tease him about how just a bit of grinding back on him had turned him on but, another part of you was ready to loosen up a bit and partake in some drinking of your own.

Nothing crazy of course but, you felt like you would be a little stiff in the crowd without Gojo by your side and if he wanted to go sit down but you wanted to continue dancing, you’d have to get some alcohol in you to lessen the tension in your body. As such, a small conversation between you and Gojo took place and he ended up pointing you toward the kitchen before letting you know he wouldn’t be too far off.

The house was huge but with the directions he gave you, you figured you’d be fine.

And honestly? You were fine navigating through people on your own this time. But just in case, Gojo did take it a step further and message you the same thing he’d told you (just in case you didn’t hear him perfectly enough over the music). 

How considerate of him. You thought to yourself as you made your way down a hallway and toward the far off kitchen.

Upon entering the space, you spot a few people making their own drinks, smoking, or talking with a friend but ultimately it’s a lot more laid back in comparison to the dance floor you’d previously been on. This allows you a moment to breathe, exhaling softly as you make way for the first stack of red plastic cups you find.

As you find a decent space on the counter to prepare your stuff, you begin to replay the small events from this party in your head. Smiling, you realize how wonderful everything’s been going for you thus far. You met two guys who were really nice, one of whom seemed to be acquainted with Gojo, Utahime was really friendly with you, and then dancing with Gojo just felt… nice. It was almost like things had gone too good for you tonight. Well, safe for Hori repeatedly interrupting something for you and failing to even say hi to you.

It’s not like you were expecting her to but, it would’ve been nice. She was standing right in front of you. Twice.

But hey, maybe she didn’t even remember you and the small convo you had with her. After all, this is her party and she clearly knows a lot of people so there’s probably a million and one things occupying that brain of hers. Speaking of which, that small conversation you had with her reminds you… didn’t you invite—

“How much for a ride, princess?” Choso’s voice suddenly hits your ears and you practically flinch out of your skin.

Your elbow instinctively shoots back and you nudge him right in his stomach with a loud yelp, “Jesus-, fuck, Choso!” You spew out before clasping your hands over your mouth in response to the sound of surprise you’d let out. “Scared the hell outta’ me.”

He lets out a laugh in between some sort of cough, probably one provoked from your strike against him just now. Slowly, his coughing fades into a full on chuckle and you move your eyes to gather the sight of him behind you. He’s wearing red and black, his hair tied up into two messy pigtails using these red hair ties, and—holy shit. Choso’s dressed up as Garu from Pucca. 

The realization makes you gasp dramatically as you turn around to face him fully. “Oh my God? Are you… Is that a Garu costume?!” You exclaim, moving your hands to his shirt and tugging him a bit close as you study the big red heart imprinted on the center of it.

Choso finally clears his throat and drops his eyes down to the way you’re pinching the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, “Uh, obviously?” He remarks sassily before lifting his gaze to your costume and cocking his head to the side. “And what are you supposed to be? A cowgirl?”

“Obviously,” You say mockingly. “Didn’t you just ask me how much for a ride like twenty seconds ago??”

His red gloved hand moves to brush your touch off of his shirt and then he smirks. “Yeah, ‘n you didn’t even answer, jus’ gave me a mean nudge to the gut…”

“You scared me!” You huff out to him.

Choso’s eyes settle firmly on the cleavage of your tits, not making any sort of attempt to avert his gaze as he talks to you, “I know.” His tone makes it seem as though he did that on purpose. “But I had to get back at you somehow. Who the hell invites their friend to a party and then makes no attempt to see if they’re still coming or if they even made it?”

Oh damn. You did kinda forget about him as soon as you got around Gojo… You don’t think Choso’s even crossed your mind again since earlier that morning. “Ohh uhm, sorry about that.” You say, a slight awkwardness drafting by mere seconds afterwards.

Choso gives you this loose nod of his head before stepping past you. “Yeah uhuh,” He hums casually whilst taking two of those red cups out from their stack. “Too distracted dancin’ with your partner to think about me, right?”

Your eyes follow him as he moves and you watch the way he fixes two drinks—one of them clearly for you. “He… He’s not my partner, Cho. I just—“

“No? But you two are matching,” He points out as he interrupts your next sentence. “Cowboy and Cowgirl too, how cute,” Then, Choso’s turning his head to look at you with this expression you can’t quite read as the next words leave his lips lowly. “Wonder if you’ll ride him the same way you did me.”

“What—“

He scoffs, “Yeah, y’gonna show him all the things you showed me?” He presses even further, taking a step away from preparing those drinks and toward you. Your body seems to not want to listen to you because you remain still and don’t even try to step back. Choso leans in close and angles his head to the side as his eyes remain dead set on yours, “Hm? Are you gonna beg him to fuck you the same way you begged for my cock that night?”

You’re left staring at him all speechless and dumbfounded, no sharp remarks to throw back at him, no attempts at arguing with him, just… nothing. 

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[peppermintquartz]

Hello! ❤️ For the prompts - not v original but I would love something with them running into each other on a job and one of them getting injured? If it sparks joy (not that there’s much of it to spark atm) ❤️

Tommy can be professional. That's what he tells himself as he half-slides carefully down the steep slope to the two men sitting on the narrow strip of flat geound.

Howie sees him first and his face twitches in a mix of complicated emotions. "Hey Tommy." It's too casual and Howie winces.

Even so, Tommy manages a smile. "Hey Howie." He takes the opening and drops to a crouch, coming face to face with his now ex-boyfriend. "Hey."

"Hey," says Evan, face tight with something other than physical pain. "I didn't know... Didn't know you're working today."

"Changed shifts," Tommy says. To reduce the chances of seeing you at work is what he doesn't say. "What happened?"

They're on a hiking trail. Howie has a few scrapes over his forearms and elbows, and a shallow cut over his brow that's already scabbing over. Evan is the one with the injured ankle - it's his left leg, the bad leg - and Tommy's brow creases.

"I've secured it with what I had," Howie says. "But there's no way he's gonna make it up the slope and I can't carry him up there either."

"That's what I'm here for," Tommy says, not meeting Evan's eyes. He hands the spare harness to Howie. "Gus and Samuels up there are waiting for you. Then Gus will come down for Ev- for Buck."

Evan glares at him, but says nothing other than "Go, Chimney."

With Howie working his way up the slope, it's just Tommy and Evan now, and the silence is so awkward that Tommy almost wishes he had just been on flight duty today. But he had a migraine attack the day before and told Samuels to swap pilot duty for the shift.

"How have you been?" Tommy eventually asks. "Other than, you know, falling down a hiking trail and getting hurt."

"Chimney was trying to take my mind off the breakup, so I suppose I'm doing super," Evan says, sarcasm in every word. It feels wrong, coming from him.

Tommy wants to hold him and tell him how much Tommy has missed him. He settles for a deep breath and a sharp nod. Still, he can't help replying, "Guess we're both doing super then."

"You're such a dick." Evan stares at him, and God, the red-rimmed eyes are as beautiful now as they were the night Tommy ran away like the coward he was. Is.

"I'm sorry." It's a weak reply to this, to everything he's done.

They both hear Gus coming down the slope. Just as Tommy's about to stand, Evan grabs his arm and says, "I want you to visit me, do you understand? Come to the loft with my favorite poke bowl for lunch. I'll definitely be home for this week, and I want you to bring me lunch, and I want you to listen to my side of things. You had your say and you didn't let me have my say and it's not fair."

Tommy can't breathe. The touch of Evan's hand feels like it's burning into his skin. He can only nod mutely in promise and step back slightly for Gus to take charge, securing Evan to be hoisted up the steep slope.

--

Three days after that shift, he shows up with Evan's poke bowl.

--

Three weeks after that lunch, Evan moves into Tommy's place.

--

Three months after moving into Tommy's place, Evan becomes Tommy's fiancé.

[maybejj]

The Beginning of Us.

Part 2

babydaddy!Rafe x sweetheart!reader

summary: You and Rafe were high school sweethearts that continued into college however Rafe went down the wrong path and you found out you were pregnant. 3 years later finds you and Rafe trying to navigate co-parenting your 2 year old son while overcoming life’s obstacles and past experiences.

warnings: swearing, rafe checking out reader

word count: 1.5k

You had just put Asher down for a nap, quickly getting your stuff together by the door. Your best friend, Ashton, was opening her own bakery store today and you promised her that you would be there to help. You had called Rafe earlier in the week to make sure he was available to watch Asher while you were gone, you both had trust issues when it came to having anyone else watch your son after what happened the last time.

When you had called Rafe, he said he was free to watch Asher, that he didn’t have anything else going on. That wasn’t the case. After you got off the phone, he immediately rescheduled all his meetings that fell on that Friday morning. His Dad was pissed off with him because of it but he couldn’t care less. His family, his son, came first. He would always be there for his son and you, if you’d let him.

Ever since Asher was born, he made a promise to himself that he would clean up his act and make up for how he treated you while you were pregnant with his son. He had a long way to go but he was trying.

You were putting your earrings on in the bathroom when you heard him come in. You could hear him set his stuff down on the counter in the kitchen before coming to find you.

Rafe came into view of the bathroom doorway, looming over you. He couldn’t help himself, his eyes traveled your figure. You were wearing a baby blue sundress that came down to your knees. The top half was tighter than the bottom, making your breasts sit very nicely, snug. The v-neck wasn’t too deep, just enough to leave your imagination running wild and his definitely was. You were beautiful, that was the simplest way to put it. Your figure had changed since you were together in high school and college but damn, you never looked better. If anything, he found you more attractive after birthing his son.

“Again, I’m sorry this is kinda late notice. I only told you about it a couple days ago. It completely slipped my mind until Ashton called me the other day and that’s when I called you-” You continued to ramble on until Rafe’s deep voice stopped you mid sentence.

“Don’t have to apologize, you’re allowed to have a life. Besides, this gives me an excuse to show Asher some new tractor catalogs I got in the mail the other day.” Rafe smiled at you, leaning against the doorway, “Little man asleep?”

You nodded while fluffing your hair and giving yourself one more glance over in the mirror. You were about to leave the bathroom but when you turned you noticed some of your hair sticking out of place.

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself. You turned back to the mirror and picked up your comb. Your hair was curled lightly but it had been giving you trouble all morning.

“You look good, stop stressing. You’re going to be late.” Rafe murmured, rolling his eyes half heartedly. You stopped with the comb halfway to your hair, slightly blushing after his comment.

Your relationship with Rafe was complicated. You were together for three years before you broke it off. You were done watching him waste his life away with drugs and alcohol in college but shortly after you ended things, you found out you were pregnant. To put it nicely, he was a complete asshole while you were pregnant. He wasn’t there for the appointments, the cravings, the hormones, the complications towards the end. The drugs took over his life and he took it out on you while you were the most vulnerable you had ever been.

Once Asher was born though, that’s when it changed. Rafe barely made it to the hospital when you went into labor but once he was allowed to see Asher for the first time? You swear you watched something switch in him. You didn’t even have to say anything to him, he said it for you.

He had tears in his eyes while holding his son for the first time, Asher was sleeping with his head resting on Rafe’s chest. You were watching them closely. You didn’t know if Rafe was currently high or not but you wanted him to at least see his son for the first time.

With silent tears running down his face, Rafe turned to you in the hospital bed, “I’m going to get better. For him. For you. I’m done. I don’t want my son growing up and seeing his father like this. He deserves better and so do you. I’m going to prove it to you.”

After he left the hospital that night, he checked himself into a six week rehab facility and stuck to his word. He hadn’t drank or done drugs since. He was slowly restoring your faith in him. It took a while to get where you were today but he was still determined to prove himself to you and Asher, he never stopped. While he was a good dad and a better person today, it was still hard to forget how he treated you while you were pregnant with his son. You tell yourself that’s why you weren’t together now. You had convinced yourself you both were better off just co-parenting.

Your phone ringing in the other room caught both of your attention, both of your heads snapping in the direction of the living room.

You excused yourself from the bathroom, brushing against Rafe as you made your way to your phone. You smiled as you answered, “I swear I’m about to leave.”

“You better be, I’m stressing out over here and I need my best friend ASAP!” Ashton’s hurried voice came across the phone.

“Deep breaths, I’m saying goodbye to Asher and then I’m heading your way. You’re going to do great.” You grabbed your purse as you put your phone against your ear and shoulder, sliding your sandals on at the same time.

“Give my namesake a hug and kiss for me! See you soon babe.” Ashton quickly said before hanging up. You had name your son after Ashton. You had been friends with her since you were 10 years old. You did everything together, including going to the same college. She was also there the entire time you were pregnant, taking you to every appointment and drying your tears.

You laughed before shoving your phone in your purse. Rafe had taken a spot on the couch and was trying to find a good channel to settle on. He raised his eyebrows in your direction when he saw you walking towards Asher’s room.

“I’m just going to poke my head into his room and give him a kiss. Thats all.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

Rafe snorted, “If you’re in a hurry, I wouldn’t do that. You know it’ll wake him up.”

“Maybe but I have to say goodbye to my baby. And we both know you’re just as excited as him, if not more, to show him the tractor magazines.” You turned around and faced him while you talked, still walking backwards to your son’s room.

Rafes loud laugh followed you into Asher’s room as you opened the door. The room was painted red and blue, his favorite colors due to Spider-Man being his favorite superhero. You walked over to his bed, crouching down to his height. He was laying on his stomach, his arms and legs flopped crazily. You brushed his blonde hair away from his face and kissed his cheek.

“Mommy loves you so big baby.” You murmured. While he hadn’t been a planned baby, he was the best thing that ever happened to you.

Asher stirred gently at your hand against his face, his bright green eyes looking up at you. He instantly started waking up, a sleepy smile forming on his face. You smirked, Rafe was going to have so much fun chasing him around the apartment.

“Hi mommy,” Asher took one of his chubby hands and put it against your cheek. You turned your head and kissed the inside of his hand.

“Guess who’s here?”

Asher shot up so fast it nearly gave you whiplash.

“Daddy?!”

Before you could reply, Asher was running out of the room. You heard Rafe grunt from the living room while you started making your way back to them. When you got to the living room, you saw Rafe being smothered in a bear hug by Asher. Rafe just gave you a look that said, ‘I told you so’ while hugging Asher back.

“Alright I’m heading out now. Be good for daddy, Asher.” You blew Asher a kiss from the front door.

Rafe and Asher stopped what they were doing and looked your way. Rafe had a slight blush to his cheeks he was praying you couldn’t see and Asher was scrambling off the couch to get to you.

Asher barreled into your leg, “Bye Mommy!”

You ruffled his hair and hugged him back as best you could while he was hanging onto your leg, “See you later, baby.”

You sent Rafe a smirk. Asher was awake and full of energy now, he was going to have his hands full.

“Good luck.” You glanced at Rafe while he gave you a flat look. You laughed while you double checked one last time to make sure you had everything and stepped out the door.

[ruewrote]

𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑦.

PAIRING: josh washington x actress!reader WARNINGS: no use of y/n GENRE: angst / fluff SONG INSPIRATION: i love you, im sorry by gracie abrams WORD COUNT: 9.7k REQUESTED: yes NOTE: does this make up for me being gone?

navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist

you had been waiting anxiously for a callback for the big film you’d auditioned for.

it was the kind of audition you left feeling half giddy, half sick to your stomach, replaying every line in your head like you were your own worst critic. was it good enough? did they notice the slight crack in your voice during the emotional scene? and why did you nervously laugh when they said, “thank you for coming in”?

every message and call since had you hurtling towards your phone. it was becoming a bit ridiculous, really. the first couple of days, it was exciting. you’d get a text notification and scramble to check it, only to be greeted by spam.

you’d sigh, deleting it quickly, before going back to refreshing your email.

this was a recurring thing, it was starting to piss you off.

the moment your phone buzzed, you almost tripped over your own feet to grab it. but there it was: the dreaded unknown number you’d seen three times today. you stared at the screen, feeling your heart deflate. “i don’t want to renew my car’s extended warranty!” you groaned into your pillow.

by day four, you were convinced your phone was mocking you. it sat there, silent, while you tried to distract yourself with literally anything. you started scrolling through social media, but every post was about someone else’s big break, and you found yourself glaring at your screen.

“oh, of course, you booked a role,” you muttered, jealously eyeing a friend’s celebratory post about a commercial gig. “good for you, toothpaste ad girl.”

you even tried taking a walk, thinking the universe might be kinder if you weren’t obsessing over it. the park definitely slowed your mind as you watched the ducks, glancing over to the family happily laughing about anything and everything.

it’s crazy the difference in your lives, but even though you didn’t know them, you wished for them to keep their happiness even with how you were feeling right now.

by the end of the week, you were practically glued to your phone, sitting at the edge of your couch. you’d made yourself a cup of tea to calm your nerves, but it had gone cold hours ago, untouched.

and then it happened.

your phone lit up, and this time, it wasn’t your mom or a scam call or a text about household essentials. it was your manager’s number flashing on the screen. you grabbed the phone, nearly dropping it in your haste.

“hello?!” you answered, a little too loudly. you winced, immediately trying to play it cool. “oh, i mean, hey! what’s up?”

there was a pause on the other end, the kind that had you holding your breath. then your manager’s voice crackled through, sounding oddly chipper.

“guess who just booked the role?”

you let out a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a squeak. “are you serious?! i got it?!”

“you got it!” your manager confirmed, laughing. “they loved your audition. said you brought a lot of… unique energy to the role.”

you frowned for a split second. unique energy? what did that even mean? but you didn’t have time to dwell on it because the excitement bubbling up inside you was too overwhelming. you started pacing back and forth, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“oh my god, oh my god!” you shouted, completely losing any semblance of chill. “this is huge! this is– wait, you’re not messing with me, right? because if this is a prank, i swear i will–”

“relax,” your manager interrupted, sounding amused. “i promise, it’s the real deal. bob washington’s production company called me directly. they want you on set next week.”

“bob washington?” you echoed, your eyes widening. “like… the bob washington? he’s producing it?”

your heart was thudding harshly in your chest. you nearly dropped the phone, switching it to your other hand as you ran a nervous hand through your hair. bob washington. legendary producer, hollywood royalty, and a man known for creating some of the most iconic films of the last decade.

“yup,” your manager confirmed, clearly revelling in your reaction. “they’re calling it his biggest project in years. high budget, a-list cast, the works. they wanted someone fresh and dynamic for your role, and, well... you knocked it out of the park.”

“oh my god,” you breathed out, sinking onto your couch. your legs felt like jelly, and you were pretty sure your pulse was now audible. “i can’t believe this is happening. i can’t– this is insane!”

“i know, right?” your manager agreed, sounding almost as excited as you. “this is the kind of project that could change everything for you. it’s going to be intense, but it’s exactly the opportunity you’ve been waiting for.”

you could hardly sit still, feeling like you might burst out of your skin from the rush of adrenaline. “okay, so… what happens next? do i need to do anything? when do i start?”

“calm down,” your manager laughed. “i’ll send over all the paperwork today, and you’ll need to sign off on it. but you’re officially set to start next week. first day is monday. they want you on set early for wardrobe and a quick read through.”

“monday?” you echoed, eyes widening. “that’s in, like, three days!”

“yup,” they replied casually. “showbiz waits for no one, especially when bob washington is at the helm. so take the weekend to get your head straight and be ready. oh, and maybe do some research on the other cast members. you’re going to be working with some big names.”

you nodded, even though they couldn’t see you, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “okay. okay, i can do this.”

“that’s the spirit,” your manager said, their tone turning a bit softer. “this is your big break. you’ve earned it. go get ready to blow everyone away.”

“thank you,” you managed to say, voice thick with emotion. “seriously. for everything.”

“don’t thank me yet,” your manager teased. “save it for after you’ve made it through the first week without fainting.”

you hung up, staring at your phone in disbelief. for a moment, you just sat there, letting the reality of it all sink in. you’d gotten the call. the role you’d dreamed of was yours and in a few short days, you’d be stepping onto a set unlike any you’d been on before.

your first day on set was a whirlwind, and calling it crazy would be a massive understatement.

you were beyond nervous, practically buzzing with a mix of excitement and fear. you’d changed your outfit at least five times that morning, scrutinising every detail as if your career depended on whether your shirt said “professional” or “i have no idea what i’m doing.” by the time you arrived, you were convinced they could see the nerves shaking through you.

but all your worries melted away the moment you stepped onto the lot. instead of the cold, judgmental stares you’d been bracing for, you were met with warm smiles and friendly greetings. the crew bustled around you, nodding and waving, making you feel like you were already part of the family. it was as if everyone had collectively decided that you belonged here, no questions asked.

“hey, you must be the new star!” a woman in a headset called out, grinning as she approached. “i’m sara, assistant director. welcome to the madness!”

you laughed, the tension easing just a bit. “that obvious, huh?”

“well, we did hear about you,” she replied with a wink. “bob’s been talking you up since the casting decision. he’s really excited about you joining the team.”

your stomach fluttered at the mention of bob washington. it felt surreal, knowing that a man of his status had taken notice of you. “i’m just hoping i don’t mess it up,” you admitted, trying to keep your smile steady.

“you won’t,” she said simply, squeezing your shoulder. “c’mon, let’s get you over to wardrobe. they want to do a final fitting before we start blocking your first scene.”

you nodded, following her through the maze of trailers and equipment. as you walked, you couldn’t help but take it all in. the towering sets, the clamour of voices, the scent of fresh coffee and sawdust hanging in the air. it felt like stepping into another world, one you’d only ever dreamed of being part of.

wardrobe was a flurry of fabric and pins, the team immediately setting upon you with expert hands, adjusting and perfecting your look. they chatted as they worked, making you laugh with their behind the scenes stories and gossip about past productions.

it was impossible not to feel at ease around them, and by the time they were done, you felt like you’d already made a few new friends.

stepping out of the trailer in your costume with a newfound confidence. taking a breath before meeting up with sara.

“looking good,” sara called over, giving you a thumbs-up. “ready for your first scene?”

you took a deep breath, the nerves settling into something steadier, like anticipation. “ready as i’ll ever be.”

“great! we’ll do a quick run through on set, and then we’ll start filming.”

you followed her to the soundstage, where the set was already in full swing. cameras were being adjusted, lights were positioned just so, and the director was deep in conversation with the cinematographer. the air buzzed with energy, and for a moment, you felt like a small cog in a very big machine.

but then bob washington himself appeared, striding across the set with purpose. he looked exactly as you’d imagined. a tall, silver-haired man with an aura of calm confidence, like he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it.

he spotted you instantly, breaking into a broad smile as he approached. “there she is!” he said warmly, extending a hand. “our newest star. i’m so glad you could join us.”

you shook his hand, hoping he couldn’t feel the slight tremble in your fingers. “thank you, mr. washington. this is… incredible. i’m really honoured to be here.”

“please, call me bob,” he insisted, waving away the formality. “and the honour is ours. i’ve got a good feeling about you, you’re exactly what this film needs.”

the praise made your cheeks heat up, and you couldn’t help but smile back. “i’ll do my best to live up to it.”

“i know you will,” he said confidently. “now, let’s get you into position. i want you to feel comfortable, so if you need anything, just let us know..”

as bob walked away to speak with the director, you took your place in front of the camera for the first time. the lights were hot, the crew was watching, and the nerves threatened to bubble up again. but then you remembered the way everyone had welcomed you, the genuine smiles, and bob’s encouraging words. you took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders back, settling into the moment.

“all right, everyone, quiet on set!” the director called out. “we’re ready for the first take.”

the set fell silent, and you felt the weight of it, the anticipation hanging in the air. you were about to speak your first line, to step into this role that you’d fought so hard for.

and for the first time all day, you didn’t feel nervous. you felt ready.

“action!” the director shouted.

it was the second week of filming when you first met josh. he strolled onto set with his dad, cutting through the chaos of cameras and crew with an easy confidence, like he’d done this a million times before. you hadn’t known what to expect, you’d heard people whisper. the washington name came with a lot of preconceived notions, but when he flashed that wide, boyish grin at you, all your assumptions melted away.

josh was nothing but lovely from the start. he introduced himself with a playful smirk and a handshake that lingered just a moment longer than necessary. “and you are?” he asked, his eyes bright with curiosity, like he already knew your name but wanted to hear you say it.

you gave it, trying to keep your own smile polite and professional, but it was hard not to be charmed by the way he looked at you. “nice to meet you, josh.”

“trust me,” he replied, leaning in slightly, voice dropping to a low whisper, “the pleasure’s all mine.”

from that moment on, josh was a regular presence on set, always finding his way over to where you were between takes. he’d crack jokes, compliment your performance, and offer you his hoodie whenever the chilly air left you shivering. 

it wasn’t exactly a secret that he liked you. it was there in the way he lit up when you entered a room, the way he leaned closer when he talked to you. he was flirty, sure, but never in a sleazy way. it was sweet, almost shy at times, like he couldn’t quite believe his luck that you just might be interested in him too.

one afternoon, you found yourself sitting together at the edge of the set, the sun dipping low behind the trees. most of the crew had wrapped for the day, the noise dying down to a soft murmur as everyone packed up. josh sat close enough that your knees were almost touching, a faint smirk on his lips as he handed you a coffee he’d picked up from the food truck.

“figured you might need a pick me up,” he said, eyes glinting with amusement. “you looked like you were about to fall asleep standing up during that last scene.”

you laughed, taking the cup from him gratefully. “wow, so i’m that obvious, huh?”

“only to someone who’s paying attention,” he teased, nudging your shoulder with his. he took a sip of his own drink, then glanced sideways at you, his expression softening. “you’ve been killing it, by the way. i know everyones been super impressed.”

you felt a blush rise to your cheeks, caught off guard by the compliment. “thanks, josh. that means a lot.”

he was quiet for a moment, watching you with a soft look in eyes. “you know,” he said slowly, like he was testing the waters, “i’ve never really seen someone fit in so quickly. it’s like you’ve been a part of this cast forever.”

“i could say the same about you,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “you’ve practically become one of us, and you’re not even in the movie.”

he chuckled, the sound low and warm. “yeah, well, maybe i just like hanging around you.”

there it was. that flirty charm that made your pulse quicken every time. you tried to play it cool, leaning back and giving him a teasing smile. “is that so?”

josh’s grin widened, but then he looked down, almost sheepish. “yeah,” he admitted softly, and for once, he didn’t sound like he was trying to impress you. it was just honest. “you’re different, you know? in a good way.”

you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, a loud voice called out from across the set. “josh! we need you over here for a second!”

he sighed, rolling his eyes but standing up anyway. “duty calls,” he said, but before he walked away, he turned back to you, taking a small step closer. “let’s hang out after this. just us,” he suggested, his tone hopeful.

you couldn’t help but smile. “yeah,” you agreed, feeling a jolt of excitement you hadn’t felt in a long time. “i’d like that.”

josh’s smile was all teeth as he jogged off, giving you a quick wave before disappearing into the crowd. you watched him go. it was impossible not to feel something for him, the way he made you feel seen, special. you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too, or if it was just his natural charm.

by the time shooting was nearing its end, you’d formed the softest spot for josh. it wasn’t just the way he made you laugh or how he seemed to know exactly what to say to put you at ease.

it was the little routines you’d fallen into together, the kind that made it hard to imagine your days without him.

every morning, without fail, josh would show up at your trailer with your favourite drink in hand. he’d knock once and then let himself in with a bright, teasing grin. “good morning, beautiful,” 

it didn’t matter how tired you were or how early the call time was. he'd always bring a bit of sunshine with him, and you’d find yourself smiling back even on your worst days.

it started with his playful affection. at first, his hands would land on your shoulders as a joke, squeezing them dramatically like he was an over the top masseuse. “rough night?” he’d ask with a wink, his fingers digging into the knots from the long hours on set. 

but as the weeks went by, those joking massages turned into something more real. he’d work out the tension in your neck and back while the makeup artists did their work, his touch firm but gentle, the kind of attention that made you melt.

“careful, you’re going to put me out of a job,” one of the makeup artists would joke, glancing between the two of you with a knowing smile.

josh would just chuckle, his hands lingering a bit longer than necessary before he’d sigh dramatically when it was time for them to move on to your hair. “fine, fine,” he’d say, stepping back like he was truly reluctant to let you go. but then he’d slide into the chair beside you, threading his fingers through yours without a second thought, as if holding your hand was the most natural thing in the world.

he’d sit there contentedly, scrolling through his phone with his free hand, occasionally showing you a funny meme or a video he thought you’d like. he always had that wide smile on his lips, the kind that made it clear just how happy he was to be there with you. it was a kind of peace, a quiet connection that neither of you had to put into words.

you knew people noticed, and you didn’t mind. it was hard not to smile at the way he looked at you. the playful flirting had given way to something tender, something that felt a lot like the start of a relationship neither of you had fully acknowledged yet.

as your makeup artist stepped back and declared you camera ready, josh gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “you look amazing,” he said quietly, his voice low and sincere, all the teasing gone from his tone.

you turned to him, meeting his eyes. “thanks, josh,”

“i couldn’t have done it without my personal masseuse.”

he laughed, leaning closer so no one else could hear. “anytime,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “but, you know, you don’t have to wait until we’re on set for this kind of attention. we could... make it a regular thing.”

your eyes flicked up to meet his, and you saw it there. the unspoken question, the hope he was trying to play off as casual. you bit your lip to hide your smile, giving his hand one last squeeze before letting go.

“yeah,” you said softly, feeling the warmth bloom in your chest. “i’d like that.”

the last weeks of filming flew by in a blur, each day bleeding into the next. if you weren’t on set, you were out grabbing late night drinks and dinners with the cast or rehearsing lines together. it felt like you were constantly moving, your days filled with laughter. just pure fun with all your new friends..

well, most of them, anyway.

then there was olivia.

no matter how friendly you tried to be, it was like talking to a mirror. everything bounced back at you with a reflection of fake smiles and hollow laughter. she was sweet and bubbly when others were around, playing the role of best friend like it was written into her script. but the second you were alone, her expression would shift. like she couldn’t drop the mask fast enough.

you were in the middle of reapplying your lip gloss in the bathroom when the door swung open with a bang. olivia stormed in, her heels clicking sharply against the tile. she came to a stop beside you at the sink, her gaze briefly meeting yours in the mirror before she looked away, pulling out her compact and patted at her makeup.

for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of her rummaging through her purse and the muted thump of music coming from outside. you kept your focus on your own reflection, but you could feel her presence next to you, heavy and expectant, like she was waiting for something.

finally, jessica let out a huff, a tight, forced laugh that seemed to come out of nowhere. “you know,” she said, her tone as sugary as ever but dripping with something darker, “it’s funny.”

“what is?” you asked, capping your lip gloss and glancing over at her.

she leaned in closer, the smile on her lips so thin it looked painful. “how everyone is obsessed with you.” her voice was sharp, each word pointed like the edge of a knife. “it’s almost impressive, the way you’ve got them all wrapped around your finger. i mean, what’s your secret?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in her tone. “olivia, i’m not–”

“oh, spare me,” she snapped, dropping the sweet act entirely. her eyes narrowed, the fake friendliness dissolving. “don’t play innocent. you know exactly what you’re doing.”

a frown tugged at your lips, confusion mixing with a flicker of irritation. “i’m just here to do my job,” you said, trying to keep your voice even. “if i’ve upset you somehow–”

“upset me?” jessica cut you off with a dry laugh, tilting her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “god, you really think you’re above it all, don’t you? just because everyone likes you right now doesn’t mean they always will.”

you took a step back, feeling the heat of her words. there it was. the real olivia, finally showing through the cracks of her perfect persona. “i’m not trying to compete with you, liv,” you said quietly. “we’re supposed to be a team.”

she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “oh, please. we both know this industry isn’t about teams. it’s about who shines the brightest. and right now, that’s you.” she snapped her compact shut and shoved it back into her bag with a sharp motion. “but don’t get too comfortable. you’re just the flavour of the month.”

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. it would’ve been easy to snap back, to throw her own words in her face, but you knew that was exactly what she wanted. instead, you offered her a small, tight smile. “if that’s how you feel, then i’m sorry.”

her eyes flicked up to yours, a flicker of surprise flashing across her face before she quickly masked it. it was almost like she hadn’t expected you to be so calm, like she’d been gearing up for a fight you weren’t going to give her.

“whatever,” she muttered, but her voice was sharper now, laced with something bitter. she turned on her heel, strutting towards the door with a slow, almost mocking glance back over her shoulder. “enjoy this little fling with josh while you can,” she added, her tone practically dripping with disdain.

her smirk widening as she continued, voice dripping with bitterness. “he’s just being nice to you. it’s what he does– flirts a little, makes you feel good about yourself. you’re not the first girl to fall for it, and you definitely won’t be the last.”

you swallowed hard, but the sting was already spreading through your chest. it felt like she’d reached right in and found the one spot where you weren’t sure of yourself, digging her nails in just to see how much it would hurt.

“i give it a few weeks before he moves on to someone else,” jessica added, her tone almost singing now, like she was savouring the taste of the words. “i’m sure he’ll find another little pet project soon enough.”

she turned and strutted out, the door slamming shut behind her, leaving you standing there in the echoing silence. you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your hands gripping the edge of the sink so tightly your knuckles turned white. you tried to shake it off, to tell yourself that she was just being petty, but her words had landed right where they were meant to.

you couldn’t help but wonder if she was right. maybe you weren’t special. maybe you were just another girl caught up in josh’s charm, another temporary distraction for him to play with before he got bored.

as you walked back out to rejoin the others, you felt the sliver of doubt she’d planted start to grow, worming its way deeper into your mind. you couldn’t shake it, her words playing on a loop, biting and bitter. 

you’re not the first girl to fall for it, and you definitely won’t be the last.

you stepped onto set and josh looked up immediately, his grin spreading across his face as soon as he caught your eye. it was like the whole room disappeared for him, like you were the only person he wanted to see. for a split second, you felt the warmth of it wash over you, the easy comfort you’d come to crave.

and then that sliver of doubt dug deeper, twisting painfully. you frowned, forcing yourself to look away as you made your way to where you were supposed to be, brushing him off without a word. you could feel his gaze follow you, his smile faltering, slipping away like he couldn’t quite understand what had changed.

i give it a few weeks before he moves on to someone else. 

olivia’s voice echoed in your mind, harsher now, louder. you clenched your jaw, eyes fixed on the ground as you took your mark. you didn’t dare look back at him, even as the silence stretched on and you knew he was still watching, trying to catch your eye.

you distanced yourself from him for the last few days of filming. it wasn’t something you planned, but every time you saw him, olivia’s words clawed their way back to the surface, sharp and jagged, cutting into whatever fragile hope you had left. 

you started to lock your trailer door in the mornings, sitting in the too quiet space with your heart pounding in your chest. your stylist team exchanged concerned looks behind your back, their hands moving a little more gently through your hair, as if they could sense the storm you were holding in.

the pain gnawed at you, raw and relentless. how could you be so stupid? you thought. of course this was how it would end. he was josh washington, the son of a hollywood icon, used to getting whatever he wanted. he could have anyone, and you’d been foolish enough to think you were different. that you were something more than a temporary distraction.

you were angry, but mostly at yourself. angry for letting your guard down, for believing that the way he treated you meant something real. it hurt in a way you hadn’t expected, a dull ache that pulsed through your chest every time you saw him across the room.

and when you did see him, he looked just as lost. his usual bright smile had dimmed, replaced with a soft, uncertain look that he reserved only for you, like he didn’t quite know what he’d done wrong but was desperate to fix it. you tried to avoid his eyes, but it was impossible. they always found you, pleading silently for you to come back, to talk to him, to let him in.

but you couldn’t. not now. not when you were convinced it had all been a lie.

on the final day of shooting, you pulled away from your friends as they gathered for one last photo, your throat tight with the effort of holding back tears. you forced yourself to look up, and there he was, standing across the room, watching you. the look on his face broke you a little more. a mixture of confusion, sadness, and something you couldn’t quite place, something that made you want to run to him and pull him close, even now.

he tried to give you a small, sad smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. it was like he was holding out an olive branch, unsure if you’d take it. your heart twisted painfully, the urge to just say screw it almost overwhelming.

you debated for a second, the weight of it all crashing down on you. then, you managed the briefest of smiles, a tiny, strained thing that faded almost as soon as it appeared. it was all you could give him. and when you turned to leave, there was a tug, a pull from you to him.

the door closed behind you, and you didn’t look back.

a year passed, and life moved on. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. you stayed in touch with the friends you’d made on set, the group chat still active. but it wasn’t the same, not without him.

you’d started to make a name for yourself in the industry, your social media blowing up when the announcement came that you’d be starring in a new film. the feedback was overwhelmingly positive, fans excited to see you. it should’ve felt like a triumph, something to celebrate, but every time you saw the comments or got a congratulatory message, there was a hollow ache you couldn’t shake. 

you tried to fill the void with dates. new people, new places. but none of them went past the first dinner or drinks. you laughed and made small talk, but it always felt forced, like you were going through the motions. you kept telling yourself it was because you were busy, too focused on your career to make time for anything serious.

but that wasn’t the truth, and you knew it. you missed him. you missed josh. the way he’d made you feel, the way you clicked from the very first moment. it was something you’d never had before and hadn’t found since, and it haunted you more than you wanted to admit. you hated how you left things, but the thought of facing him, of looking him in the eyes and seeing what hurt you caused. it terrified you.

you sighed, leaning back in the vanity chair as your makeup artist lined your lips with whatever product she was using. it felt good to be back in the routine of it all. you closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the comfortable rhythm of the brushes, the gentle hum of conversation around you.

your playlist played quietly in the background, filling the silence with a mix of your favourite songs. and then, it shifted to something different, a song that made your chest tighten painfully. 

the one that used to play in his car, the one he’d sing along to, off-key and grinning as he’d turn up the volume just to make you laugh. you opened your eyes, staring at your reflection in the mirror.

the smile you’d been wearing slipped away, replaced by something softer, sadder. the makeup artist paused, noticing the change in your expression.

“you okay?” she asked gently, her hand hovering near your shoulder.

you forced a small, tight smile. “yeah,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m fine.”

but as the song played on, you realised just how untrue that was. you weren’t fine, and you hadn’t been since the moment you walked away from him.

there wasn’t time to dwell on it, not when the makeup artist was stepping back to admire her work, giving you a final nod of approval before you were whisked away to get dressed. you were guided behind a privacy screen where a small army of stylists and assistants waited with your gown. 

it was a process, the kind that required several hands, gentle tugs and tucks, and lots of patience. you held your arms up as they shimmied the dress up your body, the fabric whispering against your skin as it slid into place. it was stunning. a custom made one, of course. 

the bodice was sleek, hugging your curves in deep, midnight blue satin that seemed to shimmer under the light. it had a delicate sweetheart neckline, showing just the right amount of collarbone, and thin, elegant straps that wrapped around your shoulders.

as they adjusted the fit, you glanced down at the intricate beadwork that trailed from your waist, cascading into the full skirt like a waterfall of tiny, sparkling stars. the gown flowed out into a subtle train behind you, the kind that made you feel like you were gliding when you walked. it was a dress designed to make a statement, to turn heads and capture attention the second you stepped into the room.

but as they fluffed the layers and pinned a few final details, your mind drifted back to him. would he be there tonight? you hadn’t asked, too afraid of the answer. if he was there, would he even look at you? did he hate you now for leaving the way you did? and did you even want to see him, knowing it would bring back everything you’d tried so hard to bury?

the stylists stepped back, murmuring their approval, and you turned to face the mirror. for a moment, you barely recognized yourself. you looked beautiful, powerful even, like you belonged in the spotlight that was awaiting you.

you smoothed your hands over the satin fabric, taking a steadying breath. it was showtime. whatever happened tonight, whoever you might see, you needed to keep your head high.

“ready?” one of the assistants asked, offering you a bright smile as they held the door open.

you nodded, forcing a confident smile as you stepped out into the hall. “ready as i’ll ever be.” 

but as you made your way to the venue, the sound of your own heartbeat seemed to drown out everything else, a constant, pounding reminder that no matter how you looked on the outside, you were far from ready.

the second your heels touched the pavement, you were met with an explosion of blinding lights. flashes erupted from every angle, the paparazzi swarming you, desperate for the next big story. voices overlapped in a chaotic frenzy:

“look here! over your shoulder! who are you wearing tonight?”

you forced a smile, dazzling but rehearsed, turning slightly to give them a better angle as you adjusted the skirt of your gown. the cameras loved it, loved you. you could almost hear the clicks getting faster, the flashes coming quicker, and you knew by the looks on their faces that the photos would be everywhere tomorrow.

but your eyes weren’t on them; they were searching the crowd, scanning the sea of faces. you caught sight of your castmates just inside the venue, a familiar group gathered together in the warm light, posing for photos of their own. you watched as they laughed, their smiles wide and genuine. for a moment, you felt a pang of longing, you missed them, missed the easy camaraderie you’d once had.

you took a deep breath, lifting your chin a little higher as you made your way towards the entrance. the red carpet felt like it stretched on forever, every step heavy with the weight of anticipation. you could feel the eyes on you, not just from the photographers but from the crowd gathered behind the barriers. fans calling your name, reaching out with pens and posters. you waved, gave them that same bright smile, even as your stomach twisted into a knot.

you made your way over to the fans lined up along the barricade, the shouts of your name cutting through the noise. you couldn’t help but smile as you leaned in, reaching for the first outstretched poster.

“can you sign this?” a girl asked breathlessly, her eyes wide with excitement.

“of course,” you said warmly, scribbling your signature across the glossy paper before handing it back. you moved down the line, taking your time with each person, pausing to hold their hands and answer their rapid fire questions as best you could.

“what’s your favourite scene in the new movie?” someone yelled.

“can’t spoil it for you!” you teased, giving them a playful wink. “but you’ll love it, i promise.”

you paused when you saw a young teen, her cheeks wet with tears, clutching a phone case with your face on it. you knelt down a little, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with a gentle thumb.

“hey, you alright?” you asked softly, giving her a reassuring smile.

she nodded quickly, wiping her face with her sleeve. “i just… i can’t believe i’m meeting you.”

your heart melted a little at that. “well, i’m so glad you’re here,” you said sincerely. “you’re amazing. don’t forget that, okay?”

you hugged her quickly, the crowd erupting in cheers around you. when you pulled back, she was beaming, and it made the exhaustion you’d felt all day fade away. you moved on, taking selfies with everyone who asked, laughing and chatting. it was honestly one of the best parts of your night.

you took a deep breath, flashing one last smile at the crowd before stepping back. the fans waved and shouted their goodbyes, their faces lit up with joy, and you couldn’t help but feel the same joy in your own chest.

the red carpet felt endless beneath your feet, stretching out in front of you like a vivid trail leading you toward a thousand cameras, all flashing at once. it was chaos, but the good kind. the kind where you could almost feel the excitement buzzing in the air, like a collective anticipation. 

the energy of the crowd was contagious, and you couldn’t help but smile, soaking in the moment as you made your way down the carpet, exchanging waves and greetings with familiar faces. it was all about the premiere, of course, but for you, it felt more like a reunion of sorts. a chance to reconnect with old friends and colleagues you hadn’t seen in a while.

you hadn’t gone more than a few steps when a voice broke through the noise.

“look at you! killing it out here!” 

before you even had time to react, a warm hug pulled you in. ryan. a guy you’d worked with on a previous project, was grinning at you with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. he stepped back to give you a once over, then mock pouted. 

“you’re out here making me look like an amateur. you should’ve warned me.”

you chuckled, adjusting the hem of your dress as if it were the most dramatic thing in the world. “not true. you’re just not bringing enough sparkle to the table,” you teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

he raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down. “i’m just trying to keep up. but i gotta say– mission accomplished. you’re stealing the spotlight tonight.”

the photographer’s call broke through the banter, and with a flash of the cameras, you both struck a pose. you leaned in slightly, offering your best smiles as the clicking of the cameras. you could hear the photographer giving a quiet “perfect!” before they moved on to catch the next moment.

you gave him a quick wave and moved on, weaving through the throng of excited actors and industry folk, all basking in the glamour of the night. there was something intoxicating about it – the shared joy, the excitement, the way everyone seemed to be feeding off each other’s energy.

a few steps down, you spotted someone you didn’t know well but had met at industry events before. a woman whose laugh was as big as her personality. she waved as she caught sight of you, and before you could even offer a word of greeting, you were pulled into a warm, tight hug. 

“is this your first premiere?” she asked, her voice bright with curiosity.

you smiled, shrugging a little. “no, but i’m still kinda freaking out. there’s just something about the flashing lights that makes me feel a little claustrophobic,” you admitted with a laugh.

she grinned, understanding exactly what you meant. “it’s like being in a fishbowl for a night, right? everyone’s looking at you, but you’ve got to own it. let’s have some fun with it!”

the cameras around you both clicked as you posed together, flashes going off so quickly you could hardly keep up. there was no rush, no pressure. just laughter and the easy chemistry that made you feel at home in the chaos. after a few more shots, you thanked her and kept moving.

the next few minutes blurred together, more poses with more familiar faces. a guy you’d met once at a party last year, a rising star in a rom com who was just starting to get their break through, a selfie with someone who had appeared in an indie film you adored. 

it felt like an effortless stream of interactions, as if you were just hanging out with friends instead of being on a giant event.

but then, you noticed something. as you made your way down the carpet, the crowd around you seemed to dissipate. you didn’t know if it was your own sense of space or just the natural ebb of the event, but suddenly you found yourself alone. there was no one nearby, no familiar faces laughing or posing for pictures. just the sharp clicking of cameras and the hum of voices from the crowd. 

the realisation hit you like a wave, and with it came the creeping tide of anxiety. your heart began to beat a little faster, the flashing lights growing brighter, the eyes of the photographers turning into an overwhelming pressure. it wasn’t just the cameras. it was the sheer number of people, all of them looking at you, all of them waiting for something, expecting something. 

you tried to steady your breath, forcing yourself to smile through the nervous tightness that was starting to crawl up your chest. but it wasn’t working. the world seemed to be closing in, the noise around you getting louder, more suffocating. 

and just when you felt like you might lose it, a hand settled firmly on your waist. before you could process what was happening, you were gently spun into someone.

your hands landed against the solid expanse of their chest, you looked up, you met josh’s eyes, his face soft with concern, a quiet understanding in his gaze.

"hey,” he said, his voice low, cutting through the madness. “you okay?”

the world slowed. his presence was the grounding force you needed, the anchor that pulled you back from the edge of panic. you inhaled deeply, feeling your heart rate slowly return to normal, the suffocating weight of the moment lifting. 

“yeah...” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “i think i am now.”

you both turned back to the cameras, the bright flashes momentarily blinding you, but josh’s presence beside you grounded you. his hand, warm and firm around yours, tugged you gently, guiding you into a slow spin. the world around you seemed to slow as you turned, the cacophony of the red carpet fading into the background. 

“isn’t she so beautiful, ladies and gents?” josh’s voice rang out, effortlessly confident, the words slipping out like a natural compliment, as though it was the simplest truth in the world. 

all that was heard were cheers and whistles surrounding you.

you couldn’t help but laugh.  a genuine, startled laugh, the kind that bubbled up from deep inside you. the sound echoed around you, and it felt like the air cleared for just a moment, like the weight of the night lifted. you stumbled slightly, your feet shifting against the plush carpet, and found yourself falling back against him. 

his arms caught you instinctively, pulling you close. the warmth of his chest against your back, the steady pressure of his hand on your waist. you glanced up, meeting his gaze, and suddenly the world didn’t seem so big, it didn't feel so overwhelming. 

but josh’s eyes, dark and intent, told you everything without a single word. there was something there. something unspoken, a silent intensity that left you breathless. it was in the way he looked at you, the way his lips quirked into a small, almost shy smile, and the way his thumb traced slow circles on your skin. his hand never left you, his touch steady, grounding you in the middle of the chaos.

you could feel the pull between you, magnetic, undeniable. the longing was palpable, the unspoken words that hovered between you both. it wasn’t just the physical closeness, the way your bodies fit together so naturally, or the way his hands held you with such ease. it was the way his eyes never strayed from yours, like he was trying to convey everything that words couldn’t. 

in that moment, it was clear — everything you both needed was right here, in the quiet tension between a glance and a breath.

and for a fleeting second, you almost forgot about the cameras, the lights, the flashes. you almost forgot about everything and just stayed in that space, just the two of you, with the unsaid words hanging in the air.

it wasn’t long before you two made your way into the theater.

you followed josh inside. the world outside had momentarily faded away as the two of you found your seats, the lights dimming around you. the film was about to start, but there was no denying the tension between you.

as the opening credits rolled, you tried to focus on the screen, your own face staring back at you larger than life. it was surreal, seeing yourself up there, but despite the excitement, there was something else that kept drawing your attention away. josh. 

you could feel his presence beside you, warm and steady. his leg brushed against yours, sending a small jolt through you. the whole theater could’ve been empty, and you still would’ve been hyper aware of him. 

the movie played on, but you couldn't quite get lost in it. your heart raced, every subtle movement from josh had you second guessing your focus. his hand was now dangerously close to yours, just a few inches away. with every frame, your breath caught a little more, the anticipation mounting. 

ever so slowly, josh’s fingers inched toward yours. you held your breath, hoping it wouldn’t be too obvious. but as he grazed the back of your hand, a little shiver ran through you. you turned your palm up ever so slightly, just enough for him to get the hint. 

his fingers brushed against yours again, this time lingering for just a moment. your heart hammered in your chest, and you couldn't help the sly grin that tugged at the corner of your mouth. his eyes flicked over to you, a mischievous glint in them, before his hand fully settled in yours, fingers intertwining. 

you both glanced at each other, and for a moment, the world outside of that theater vanished. the film could have been playing a thousand scenes, and neither of you would have noticed. the only thing that mattered was the warmth of josh’s hand in yours, the way he squeezed it gently.

by the time the credits rolled and the lights came up, you both were still sitting close, your hands now very obviously intertwined. there was a satisfied, playful grin on both your faces, a mutual understanding of what had just happened between you, and neither of you could stop the little spark of joy that flickered in your chest. 

the crowd outside the theater had thinned, and there were only a few straggling onlookers left. the lack of paparazzi made the air feel lighter, more intimate. the flashing cameras, the constant eyes on you, had disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived, leaving only the steady presence of josh by your side. his hand was still firmly wrapped around yours, and though the world seemed to fall away, you couldn't help but feel the weight of all the whispered glances from the few people still lingering around.

you snuck a glance at him, and he caught it, his eyes meeting yours with a playful smile. you both walked in silence toward the exit, but the tension between you was thick. it wasn’t just the excitement from the night, or the high of seeing yourself on the big screen, it was something else. something you couldn’t quite name yet, but you felt it every time his fingers brushed against yours.

once you reached the parking lot, you turned to him. "do you want to come back to my place?" the words felt sudden, but they were honest. he raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips, but he didn’t hesitate.

"yeah, i'd like that," he said softly, his hand tightening around yours as you made your way to his car.

the drive was quiet but not uncomfortable. the radio hummed quietly in the background, but it was his presence that consumed your attention. every so often, you'd catch his eyes glancing at you, his face softening with a tenderness that made you feel both a little breathless. 

when you reached your apartment, he pulled up to the curb and parked, smoothly shifting into neutral. before you could reach for the door handle, he was already there, opening it for you. his fingers curled around the edge of the door. he offered you his hand, helping you out. it was such a casual thing, but it still managed to pull a smile out of you, the kind that you had to look away to hide.

he walked alongside you to your front door, his presence warm against the cool night air. he waited patiently, a step behind as you fished your keys from your bag. you could feel his eyes on you, attentive but soft, like he was memorising this small moment. the lock clicked, and you pushed the door open, stepping inside and feeling the rush of warmth against your skin.

he stepped inside, his focus shifting to the family photos on the walls as he moved with unhurried steps. the silence felt heavy now, filled only by the click of your heels across the floor as you set your handbag on the counter. you could hear the quiet scuff of his shoes as he followed, moving closer, the distance between you shrinking with every breath.

josh stood in front of you, his eyes softening as he took in the tension on your face. he could see it. the way your brows furrowed slightly, the way your lips were pressed together. the worry was evident, and it made him feel an unfamiliar ache in his chest. 

"hey," he said, his voice low and gentle, "what’s going on? you’ve been quiet ever since we got here." he took a small step closer, his eyes never leaving yours as if he was waiting for you to say something, anything. 

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat, trapped somewhere between confusion and guilt. what could you say? how could you explain the mess inside your head, the things that had been eating away at you for the past year?

you felt his presence growing stronger, like he was waiting for you to reach out, but you couldn’t. you didn’t know how to bridge the distance that had built up between you, even if it was only in your own heart. 

“i– i don’t know how to say this.” your voice cracked slightly, betraying the emotions you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel until now. 

josh tilted his head, concern deepening in his eyes. “you don’t have to explain anything if you’re not ready, but i'm here to listen if you are.” 

his words, that small gesture of understanding, only made the pressure in your chest tighten. the last year had been filled with silence, each day spent wondering if you’d made the wrong choice. and now, standing before him, feeling the warmth of his presence, you were finally forced to confront the truth. 

was it worth it to trust someone else's words over his?

“olivia said... she said some things about you. about us,” you began, your throat tight as you struggled to find the words. “i let her get into my head. and i chose to believe them. since i've seen past tabloids of you, and i just... i don’t know. it made me think maybe i was just another girl to you, josh. that i was nothing special.” the words were difficult to choke out, like each one took something from you.

you took a shaky breath, your voice thick with the emotion you’d been holding back for so long. “i know i should have talked to you, josh. i should’ve just asked you if it was true, if i was just another girl in a long line of flings. but i couldn’t bring myself to do it.” you looked down, your gaze fixed on the floor as you admitted the hardest part. “i was terrified. i was scared that if i asked, on the off chance that it was true, it would hurt even worse than believing the lie.”

josh’s expression shattered, he’d just realised how deep the wound went. he moved even closer, his hands sliding up to gently cradle your face, forcing you to look at him. “god, i hate that you felt that way,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “you should never have had to doubt us. i should’ve made sure you knew how much you meant to me. i’m so sorry.”

your chest tightened, a fresh wave of tears spilling over as you finally let yourself lean into his touch, the warmth of his palms grounding you in the moment. it was like he was trying to hold all the broken pieces of you together, the way his thumbs gently stroked your cheeks.

“i didn’t know,” you whispered, your voice raw. “i didn’t know if it was real, or if i was just something temporary for you.”

“it’s real,” josh said urgently, his forehead pressing against yours. “it’s always been real with you. and i should’ve done more to show you that. i’m here now, and i’m not letting go again.”

“i should’ve trusted you,” you whispered, the guilt bubbling to the surface. "but the way she said it, the way it all just seemed to line up... i thought maybe she was right. i thought maybe you were just... playing around." you swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. “i didn’t know what to think anymore. and i pushed you away.”

josh’s hands slid to your shoulders, his grip gentle but firm. “i get why you felt that way, but i’m not like that. i never have been with you.” his voice dropped, becoming more vulnerable. “i’ve been falling for you this whole time. and i know i messed up.

i didn’t fight hard enough for us when i should’ve.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i should’ve told you how i felt. i shouldn’t have let you think i was anything like those guys. i’m not.”

you stood there, trying to process everything he was saying, the rawness in his words hitting you. the walls you had built around yourself started to crack, the defences you’d spent a year erecting finally starting to crumble in the face of his honesty. 

“i don’t want to be just another fling, josh,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “i need to know i mean something to you.”

“you do,” he said, his voice almost pleading now. “you mean everything to me.” his hands slid down your arms, holding onto you with a desperate kind of tenderness. “i’ve been stupid, letting this distance grow between us. i never stopped caring about you. and i’m sorry for not saying it sooner. i can’t keep pretending i don’t feel this way.” 

the air between you was thick, almost stifling, as if every unsaid word hung there, waiting. your chest rose and fell, breaths coming a little faster than they should. he looked at you, searching your face like he was trying to find the right thing to say, but couldn’t.

for a second, you just stood there, both caught in that in between place, uncertain, but wanting more than you were willing to admit. you could see the way his gaze flickered, the way his hands hovered by his sides, like he was debating whether to reach for you.

you took the leap first, stepping into him and pressing your lips to his. the kiss was simple but real, like a question and an answer all at once. he exhaled against your mouth, almost a sigh of relief, and his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, like he’d been waiting for this as long as you had.

when you pulled back, the tension melted away, replaced by something softer, almost gentle. he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a quiet laugh, almost like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “i’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered.

you smiled, feeling the weight of everything you’d been carrying start to lift. “me too,” you admitted. “but no more excuses, okay?”

he nodded, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “no more excuses,” he promised.

and with that, you kissed him again, letting yourself fall into it.

trusting that this time, you’d both make it count.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[mins-fins]

˖﹙💌﹚DARLIN'

｡｡｡ silly little mark lee, well of course you're in love with him!

P ─  mark lee x m!rdr. G ─ fluff, university au, sleepover, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, self indulgent. W ─ swearing, mentions of drinking, depressive nightmares. WC ─ 2.1k.

mark is afraid he has some sort of psychic connection with you, he turns and creates contact with the wooden post of a bed frame.

he replies in a grunt, head beginning to pound with an indecipherable extent of pain. he bites back a wince, teeth about to sink into his tongue as a typical response, eyes struggling open as he observes his surroundings.

jeno has an arm thrown over his back, his snoring elevated as his proximity is much too adjacent, his nose scrunches up in irritation, the touch irking him. he’s just barely able to throw the arm off of him without causing a disturbance, fortunately jeno’s a heavy sleeper.

he’s unaware of why he’s awaken exactly, or how he even ended up on the floor with tangled blankets surrounding the circle of.. everyone. of course chenle decided to take the bed, he’s selfish like that (well mark guesses it’s his huge ass house after all, yet he left them to sleep on blankets? or did they fall asleep on the floor without realizing? he can’t remember). jisung’s crazily long legs tangle with donghyuck’s, no use in attempting any escape that way.

jeno rolls over and unconsciously begins cuddling jaemin, well of course, how cute.

renjun is the only one who appears comfortable enough, graciously embezzling everybody else’s blankets in order to create his own makeshift sleeping bag.

he squints, as if striving to capture a semblance of sight in the darkness, the door is cracked open, a crack of light permeating the small space. his back emits a tiny crack, he ignores it as he somehow stands on his two feet.

mark wobbles in the manner of a child taking their first steps, much too groggy, hands coming to rub at his eyes despite light being naught. he blinks down at his feet, narrowly avoiding his foot coming in contact with donghyuck’s heat, he trips over the uneven carpeting and stumbles himself out of the frankly claustrophobic room.

mark didn’t fret, he easily noticed the lack of your presence, he recalls you falling asleep right beside him, even with the muddled memories of the past few hours. he finally did wince once his eyes met the piercing lights of the extensive hallway, what was the point of even keeping them on?

either way, that happens to contain the least of mark’s concerns, he thinks he has a good idea of why you suddenly disappeared from the group you had fallen asleep with. he knows you well enough to scope out a definite answer.

and it’s exactly how it appears in his mind, you just so happen to be downstairs, fidgeting with a cup that contains nothing. mark blinks, catching your attention immediately. “y/n?”

“can you believe even his water tastes expensive?”

the question is passive, mark’s aware of the kinds that exist with you. it’s a cover up for something more, a bit of concern hidden behind the usually playful gleam of your eyes.

he’ll entertain you for a moment.

“really?”

you hum, clearly put off by the lack of an immediate inquiry,

because for as much as mark’s knowledge of you presides, your knowledge of him exists in the same boat. he surmises it’s a bit of a double edged sword, but then again, he guesses your friendship is an example of that very phenomenon.

yet the fondness he retains could never be replicated with one other person. “yeah, typical rich people bullshit”.

there remains a collection of cups clattered in the kitchen sink, unwashed, reeking alcohol just barely fluttering its way up into the air. mark has half a mind to scrunch his nose, and if the dishes were the main focus, he would’ve fully grimaced.

good thing they aren’t the main focus.

he slips by your side easily, yearning to grab ahold of your hand, but afraid of irking you when you already appear so skittish. he somehow crams the desire downward, instead gazing upon your trembling fingertips. “why’d you get up?”

he just barely deciphers the underlying whine in addition to the clearly desperate question, his eyes probably gleam with rashness, as if he’s your lover complaining about your decision to get out of bed.

well it is always warmer with you around, though mark lee cannot admit that to any person, not even you yourself.

you contemplate, mark notices the shift of your expression. a drop to his stomach, if you do feel the need to lie, then it’s possibly something worse than what he originally thought, unlike your typical streak of insomnia, it has to be something.. more.

and he’s just the slightest bit afraid.

“water”.

“really?”

your right eye twitches, mark fears the impending irritation upcoming. “yeah” you breath, averting your gaze as your fingertips circle the curvatures of this fancy looking glass, the reflection of your dark eyes visible in the silica sand.

he sucks his teeth.

the resounding action offends you, if the corresponding look mark glimpses once you whip your head is enough. “what?”

“what?”

your face falls flat. “why are you looking at me like that?”

“why are you lying?” mark rebuts, attempting his best shot at forbearance despite how bothered he is by your indignation. “it’s just me..”

your go to response is a dry chuckle. “i know that, it’s not like i’m scared of you or anything, it’s just..”

it’s just..

nothing.

because mark knows you won’t tell him, the pertinacity of your character consistently permeates no matter what, and mark loves you, so so much, but he can’t help his elevated apprehension. his fingers drum onto the porcelain counter before him, contemplation behind his eyes.

“it’s obvious something’s wrong”.

and from your corresponding look, you’re practically placing a curse on mark’s whole entire bloodline. he supposes certain things never really do change, even if that includes obstinacy.

mark adjusts his bracelet, stepping closer as he swipes one of your fallen eyelashes from your cheek. “you could make a wish..”

he’s stalling, stalling much more than you typically do, but he can’t exactly help it, if you don’t want to confess the deepest anxieties which make you awake at night, does he really have any right to dig deeper despite his clear intrigue? you’ve never been that kind of person, his intention is to always seek your comfortability, even if it slowly kills him inside.

you stare, tilting your head and blinking at his pointer where a fallen piece of your eyelash rests. “do you really believe in that shit?”

“i enjoy tradition”.

that earns a shy smile, you’re very aware of that one, it seems that you simply relish in the manner of mark’s reply. you remain silent, again focused on your very eyelash resting atop his fingertip. “okay, i made my wish”.

mark is staggered for a moment. “what? what do you mean?”

“i made the wish in my head”.

mark uncharacteristically pouts, now that is unfair. “you can’t just do that!”

you shrug. “it’s a secret”.

the whisper causes the click of his tongue, he presses his pointer finger to his thumb in a gentle action of getting rid of your eyelash. “fine, keep your secrets..”

he doesn’t exactly realize the double sided nature of that reply, and despite his disquietude in your displayed fits of seclusion, he keeps silent on the issue he has nothing of a bearable thought on.

still, your amusement prevails.

“you know, i think—”

well mark has no time to dwell on the end of his sentence, because you step forward and pull him into a staggering embrace. it isn’t staggering in an emotional manner, you typically enjoy hugs, it’s simply.. unexpected.

your arms practically cradling his upper body, you tuck the side of your face into his neck, as if striving for a degree of comfort only he could grant you. you take in a deep breath, yet you keep silent either way.

while he is stunned, his arms consciously squeezing around your waist, well now how can he not worry? you don’t just hug out of nowhere, especially if mark is talking first.

“hey, is everything okay?”

nothing of a verbal reply, you merely nod.

how you two end up on the couch? mark barely remembers.

there isn’t a lack of space, mark is sure this one is actually a pull out, but you two decide to squeeze onto it anyway, something of a natural warmth emanating from the embrace you so dearly cherish. mark doesn’t mind, it’d be worse if you were just avoiding him.

so really, this is the best case scenario.

“you know, you have to tell me when.. this happens”.

this could equate to several things, sleepwalking, nightmares, spontaneous depressive episodes, on an especially terrible level it could be all three, but he’s simply throwing darts at a board and hoping one of them sticks. “what is this?”

“whatever has you awake tonight”.

you have that puzzled expression on your face, an expression mark questions more than anything, now replicating it on his own features. you then quickly avert your eyes, which is difficult considering you find yourself pressed into him. “i know it’s just— i don’t know, i’m scared..”

and of course, honesty includes the scratching of your nails against any surface in immediate reach. mark can’t exactly stare elsewhere, you appear to fear even the slightest corners of this huge room. “of?”

you don’t answer that one.

so mark won’t press further, that’s enough of divulging for tonight he supposes..

“you don’t want a blanket?”

“it’s warm enough” in tandem with your response, you nuzzle into the side of mark’s neck. he can’t exactly disagree, and you obviously observe that part. “besides, we know you aren’t getting up any time soon”.

“you’re technically crushing me so what could i even do?” he inquires, lips taking an upturn at the glare you pair with a glare as your soundless reply. he winces at the pinch you decide as your go to, nose scrunched up in irritation.

“i could kill you”.

“sure”.

though you’re typically numbing, mark doesn’t want to let go, it’s as if you encapsulate the feeling of alleviation with just your arms around him alone. you two are lying together on a couch you could only ever dream of buying, somewhat chilly yet aided by the mellowness of your embrace.

usually the close proximity would irk mark, the affection would be so.. out of place if it wasn’t you. he guesses that the ‘favoritism’ donghyuck goes on about isn’t all a fallacy, but he isn’t all for admitting that.

mark gazes upward at the ceiling, crinkling his nose at the shade it’s painted. your reticence endures, not yet asleep, mark can still feel your fingertips scratching at the seams of his oversized shirt, you never sleep easily.

it occurs to mark that you probably have a few more things left to mutter, your tense, fingers trembling against the ends of this couch. “what’s on your mind?” he whispers, lips pursued.

you contemplate, clear distinguishing naught. for the first time in a while, you ponder with confusion written all over your features, a battle of your conscience and your heart, anxiety manifesting in the picking of your nails.

“don’t know why i let myself get scared of things like this anymore..”

“well you aren’t used to it” he runs a finger through your hair, an act which typically calms you down. “everyone is scared of something, it doesn’t just go away with age unfortunately”.

you manage to hide your smile, but mark can make it out the stretch pleading for you to just stop being stubborn for once. you again glance away, conflicted. “fucking hate nightmares”.

you then look up, and mark wants to fall. you stare into his eyes, mark maintains eye contact though he knows it’ll be bad for his heart, yet he does so anyway, egotism carrying his movements.

mark really wants to kiss you, it would be a perfect moment too. you stare with such a gentle manner, as if mark laid his life out for you instead of just offering a regular seam of comfort, and he wants to die a little.

well he could do that, and he does,

just not on the lips.. not yet..

he leans forward, lips pressing to your forehead. your eyes flutter closed, and whilst you don’t verbally react, mark is aware of how you feel.

“think you could go to sleep like this?”

you take in a deep breath, making yourself content on the couch with mark beside you. the hug keeps mark on his feet, he doesn’t want for you to let go, you don’t either, it’s as if you’re a perfect fit for each other.

your adjacent breathing steadily comes to a close, not sleep just yet, but mark is determined to make it happen. his hand rests on your back, warm and inviting. “thank you..”

it’s alright, it’s nothing, mark would do anything for you, the sight of your own contentment joys him to no end.

“it’s nothing..”

it isn’t, feelings can await the aftermath, he’s happy now, perhaps a bit in love as well.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Mockingjay - Part 8

Hi guys!

I'm sorry for the wait, I know that usually I give you the chapter on Friday, but I wasn't able to yesterday.

This one is a little darker, please be aware of that while reading it.

TW : Death, blood, injuries, grief.

Chapter before

Ona wakes up abruptly, a hand coming suddenly on her mouth to prevent her from shouting. She still is in the tree where she fell asleep a little earlier, while Teagan was supposed to stand guard. But it’s not him who is looking at Ona with undisguised anger.

It’s Lucy.

Eyes widened; Ona tries to move but Lucy doesn’t let her.

“What’s happening?” Ona whispers, Lucy’s hand always on her mouth.

“Did you kill him?” Lucy whispers-shout.

“What?”

Lucy’s voice is low, full of an anger that Ona doesn’t understand. Just like she doesn’t understand why Lucy is talking about. Ona tries to read more in Lucy’s eyes, but she can’t.

“What are you talking about?” the younger one finally says.

“Declan. Did you kill him?”

“What?” Ona frowns. “No, of course not.”

Lucy is still looking at her, but she finally removes her hand from Ona’s mouth. The latter takes advantage of it to look around them, looking for Teagan. But the young boy is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Teagan?” Ona asks.

But it doesn’t seem to be Lucy’s first interest. She seems so angry; Ona never saw her like this. She won’t say that she’s scared, but she’s definitely impressive like that. The situation is really mind blowing for Ona. She wanted so much to see Lucy one more time, but not like this.

“At the place where the Games began, there is a scoreboard. It says that you killed someone. If it wasn’t Declan, who was it?”

“The boy from the 5” Ona mumbles, not really wanting to remember that awful moment. “He was chasing Teagan at first and then he came back for us. I – I didn’t have any choice.”

Ona shivers and it has nothing to do with the cold. It is cold actually, but with the hoodie she’s wearing and the habit of the temperature, she was okay like this.

Lucy seems to think about Ona’s answer, looking at her while squinting her eyes. She seems furious. Ona can understand because she was pretty close to Declan, but there is no world where Ona could kill him.

“If it’s not you, who was it?”

Ona rolls her eyes and crosses her arms on her chest. Now that the surprise is passed, she has trouble keeping up with the way Lucy is talking to her.

“Your two girlfriends. He was with them at the lake, right? They pushed him in the water. I don’t know what is really inside the water, but he died almost immediately. Then there was this strange fog coming from the lake and I think it’s what killed Lilith too. I was in a house in the city with Teagan, we had time to run away. They were closer to the lake; Lilith didn’t get that chance. I guess Kayla didn’t explain things like this?”

When Lucy always seems to hesitate, Ona stands up a little bit more to face her. She doesn’t know what happened to Lucy for her to have doubts about her like that, but Ona doesn’t like it.

“If you don’t believe me, why don’t you look at the scoreboard? I’m pretty sure you know everything your friends do, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t show the score from the death’s people.”

“How convenient” Ona snorts.

They look at each other for several seconds. Ona feels sad and angry at the same time. She wanted to see Lucy one more time to have a good memory of her, not a fight about something like this.

“Who told you I killed Declan?” Ona asks finally.

“Kayla” Lucy answers only.

Kayla, or the only one of the trios from the lake who survived. It made Ona roll her eyes at the thought. Of course, it’s easier to accuse someone else of her betrayal. It makes Ona sick that Lucy chose to believe Kayla and not her.

She doesn’t know why Kayla was accusing her, though.

“Why would she say that?” Ona frowns softly.

“That is exactly my point.”

That icy tone, again. Ona bites her lips, not knowing what to answer to that. But she doesn’t look away when Lucy looks at her right in the eyes.

“Where is Teagan?” Ona asks again.

“He went to the river for some water. He’s not a very good guard if you want my opinion.”

“At least he believes me” Ona points out.

Lucy opens her mouth to answer but that is at this very moment that they hear someone walking in their direction. Ona could now recognize Teagan’s footsteps easily. She wanted to tell Lucy that it was him, but the older girl hurries to get out of her tree.

“Lucy!” Ona whispers.

She doesn’t hear Lucy’s answer or if she does, she even can’t see her since she jumps off the tree. Ona feels her heart breaking. This talk was worse than anything else in the world. She just has time to recompose her poker face when Teagan arrives.

“Where were you?” Ona asks him.

“I was thirsty. I didn’t think you’d wake up”

“You can’t leave like that” Ona answers maybe a little too harshly. “What if something happens to you and I’m not here?”

“I’m sorry?”

He seems a little surprised by Ona outburst, and the brunette takes a deep breath to calm herself. Teagan isn’t the reason for her fight with Lucy, he doesn’t have to deal with Ona’s bad mood.

“No, I’m sorry” Ona sighs softly. “Just tell me when you leave, okay?”

The young boy nods softly, smiling shyly at Ona. The girl smiles back at him, before looking at the sky. She is bored sitting on that tree to be honest, even if she knows it was what they decided with Alexia. But she doesn’t even know all the arena, even if Teagan gave her some information about it.

“I was thinking that we can make a reserve of food and water and go to the desert, what do you think? They won’t come to look for us there.”

After all, who can say to Ona that Lucy won’t come back with the other tributes? She’s not sure about anything anymore. She doesn’t want to explain to Teagan why she proposes that, but the boy seems happy about that idea. He proposes to go pick up some fruits while Ona goes for more water.

They even take some wood, with the lighter they found and the pan, they are even able to boil some water just in case. Without a second thought, they leave their tree to start walking towards the desert.

“I’m not sure that the starting point will be safe” Ona thinks out loud after several minutes. “Maybe we should take a detour”

Teagan doesn’t discuss this and follows Ona when she decides to stay close to the river during the walk. Lucy went to the starting point; she told her some hours before. Maybe it’s where she is now staying with her teammates. She wonders how many people Seth and Camden have killed since the beginning of the Games.

“Have you heard that?”

Ona frowns and turns in Teagan’s direction. She stops walking, trying to hear what Tegan might have heard.

“Wolves” she whispers after having heard them. “Let’s not stay here, come on.”

Even if she would rather cross the path of a wolf than Camden, she still wants to live as long as possible. They are not close to the mountain or even the snow, but after all no one can force wolves to stay where they are supposed to be. Plus, they might be hungry after several days.

“They seem close” Teagan mumbles, saying out loud what Ona didn’t want to think about.

“It’s okay. When we will be in the desert, they won’t follow us.”

She still walks a little faster though, her ears are attentive to any suspicious noise. Now she’s careful about human and animal sounds. Ona just really hopes that she won’t have to fight against snake or aggressive camels in the desert.

They were out of the forest now. Ona can see the buildings where they start the Games several days before from here. It’s just a long plain now, grass as far as the eye can see. Until she’s finally able to see what looks like some sand after. The bad news is that there is a big land dip between the grass and the sand.

The river falls into it, but Ona can’t hear the sound of the water falling in a lake below or even on the ground. The height must be appalling.

“We need to find a way to cross it” Teagan says.

Ona nods and looks around, but she doesn’t see anything who might help them. No bridge, no branch long enough to go on the other side.

“How deep is that hole?” Teagan asks, leaning a little to have a better view.

“Want to go see it by yourself?”

The male’s voice makes them both turn around and Ona feels her stomach drop. Camden and Seth are in front of them, both looking very scary. Camden has one of his knees hidden behind a big home-made bandage. It’s bloody. Ona doesn’t know who hurt him, but it doesn’t look good.

Just like their life right now.

In an instinctive way, Ona puts her arm in front of Tegan to make him go behind her. She knows it will be hard for her to protect him. Unlike last time, there isn’t any tree for her to hide him.

“Who hurted you, Sweetheart?” Seth asks, coming closer to Ona acting like he wants to touch her face.

“Go away” Ona grumbles, making a move to avoid his touch.

She looks for the knife attached to her backpack, taking it in her hand. She still knows she doesn’t have any chance, especially with two of them in front of her. But she still can hurt them too, making it easier for anyone else to kill them.

Maybe Lucy. By the way, where is she now? Did they kill her?

Her panic quickly goes down again when she reminds herself that she hasn’t heard any canon for a long time now. The last time it was when she killed that boy. She probably is alright.

“Are you really getting ready to fight?” Camden chuckles.

But Ona doesn’t answer. She looks at them with attention, ready to fight the first one who will try his chance. The worst possibility is that they both attack her at the same time, she doesn’t know she’s supposed to escape them in that case.

Unfortunately, that is exactly what happened. They just share a look at one point and run towards Ona and Teagan. It’s the kind of move and understanding coming after having trained it several times.

Teagan screams but Ona doesn’t say anything. Both men are fighting with their bare hands, even if Ona saw that they have weapons. Apparently, they don’t seem to think that they will need it to fight.

She’s not afraid about using her knife herself, protecting Teagan and herself as much as she can. She knows she can’t kill them, but if she hurts them enough, maybe they will have time to run away. Camden is the weaker one because of his injury, so Ona concentrates her attacks on him.

At some point, Teagan manages to escape the brawl, crawling to the backpacks Seth and Camden left on the floor.

But Seth sees him.

“Hey! He’s taking your hammer!” he shouts to Camden.

The boy turns around to look and Ona takes advantage of it to hit him on his injured knee with her knife. Hard.

“Teagan, run!” Ona shouts to the boy, over Camden’s howling of pain.

The hammer makes a metallic sound when Teagan lets it fall on the ground. It must be heavy. Enraged, Camden gives her a massive kick in her stomach while Seth chases Teagan. The hit cuts off Ona’s breath, preventing her from getting up.

Between Camden’s legs, she can see Teagan running, but it looks like he’s coming closer to them again. Ona doesn’t understand his move, until she sees him jumping on Camden’s back. He manages to make him fall, sadly on Ona. Ona can’t retain a whimper of pain.

“Enough! Throw them on the cliff!”

Seth is near them again. He seems to have had enough of this fight, maybe a little ashamed to have been threatened by a girl and a child.

After that, this is a mess of arms, kicks and shouts. Ona and Teagan are fighting for their life.

“Ona!”

Ona can hear Lucy’s voice and her head turns in the direction of the sound automatically. She’s even able to see her for half of a second before being thrown into the void, Teagan next to her.

“No!”

Lucy’s scream would probably have emotionalized every single person on earth, but it’s not Ona’s important point for now.

Ona managed to clutch at a root, several metres from the surface. Teagan didn’t have that chance. Grief burns her throat, and she has tears in her eyes, preventing her from seeing properly.

Her arms are burning too. After all those days without having eaten and slept enough, she doesn’t have the same strength as before.

There are grunts and noise of fights under Ona’s head. It seems like Lucy forgot all the thoughts she has about keeping herself safe with her alliance. Ona tries to ease the burning of her arms and shoulders by pushing on her legs, but the walls are dusty and the more she tries, the more pebbles and sand are falling under her.

She doesn’t want to give up though, wanting to catch Lucy when she falls. And maybe help her to reach the surface again.

But it surprisingly isn’t Lucy who falls almost two metres away from her. It’s Seth. Ona froze, looking at his body falling until she couldn’t see him anymore. Soon after, there are two shots of cannon. 

One for Seth. 

One for Teagan.

“Right, run away to your lying bitch, asshole!”

Lucy’s voice is shaking with what Ona thinks is anger. Ona wants to call the other girl, but she doesn’t have the strength to. She’s not even sure that Lucy is still here anyway.

At least she was able to see her one more time, Ona thinks. And she wasn’t angry this time. Closing her eyes, Ona let her forehead go against the wall. She knows she won’t last long. She just wants to visualise Lucy’s face one more time.

Lucy doesn’t know what pushed her to have a look at the cliff. She didn't realise that there were only two shots of cannon, not three. All she knows is that when she sees Ona, she feels like her heart is starting to beat again.

“Ona” she whispers at first, falling on her knees to see her better before getting into action again. “Ona!” she calls a little harder, not wanting to scare the other girl anyway.

They share a look when Ona raises her hand in her direction and Lucy can say that Ona doesn’t have any strength left.

“Okay, hold on. Hold on, please.”

She doesn’t let Ona answer anything before running to Seth and Camden’s backpack. She knows what is inside, but she doesn’t waste any time, she just flips them upside down to grab the rope she was looking for.

Lucy then runs to the cliff, terrified at the idea of Ona being not here anymore. She is barely holding it. But she is.

“Grab it” Lucy instructs, throwing a part of the rope to Ona.

The younger one wraps it around one of her arms, ignoring the burning against her skin. With her other arm, she grabs it and looks up again.

She can’t see Lucy anymore, but she can feel how much strength she’s putting in the effort to take her on the surface again. Ona feels like it’s taking an eternity and she’s pretty sure that she can feel Lucy’s strength getting low. Just when she wanted to tell her to just let her go, Ona can see grass again.

Ona lets go of the rope with one hand, grabbing the grass and the dirt while she pushes on the wall with her legs. The hope gives her suddenly more strength. With a last combined effort, Lucy and Ona manage to put Ona in security again. Or at least on the ground.

Lying on the ground, Ona tries to take her breath. The sky is grey under their head, and she doesn’t know if her breathing is hard because of Teagan’s death or the efforts she just put her body in.

“We need to move” Ona hears Lucy say. “I’m pretty sure Camden will come back with Kayla. I should have killed her earlier, why was I so stupid!”

While Ona sits, Lucy puts all the things she thinks they will need into a backpack. Teagan’s one having fallen with him.

“Can you walk?”

Ona can see Lucy’s concern in her eyes. She feels out of it, like if her head isn’t with her body anymore. Ona gets up, trying to ignore how her head spins at the movement. She doesn’t even realise that she’s falling, until Lucy catches her, passing her arm around her waist.

“Okay, we’re going to do things in another way.”

Ona looks at Lucy putting a bag on her stomach, before putting the other on Ona's back. Then she makes Ona climb on her back and starts to walk.

“Lucy…” Ona whispers, rocked by Lucy's quick walk.

“Sh. Just take deep breaths and don’t fall asleep, okay?”

Ona just hums, letting her head go into Lucy’s neck. Not falling asleep is harder than she thought. She feels lulled by Lucy’s movements and her scent.

At some point, Ona feels better enough to let the guilt be too big to let Lucy carry her like this for any longer. She kisses Lucy’s neck, smiling softly when she feels the goosebumps under her lips.

“I can walk” Ona finally says.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah”

Lucy stops to slowly put Ona on the ground again. She looks at her closely, looking at any sign that Ona wasn’t feeling good. But Ona does, or at least as much as she can with her injuries.

“Where are we going?”

Ona doesn’t recognize that part of the arena, she never came here before.

“To the mountain. If we get higher, we can see them better.”

Ona nods and lets Lucy grab her hand before starting to walk again. She loses track of time, only concentrating on not falling on a rock. And Lucy’s warm hand in hers. At some point, it starts snowing and Lucy takes them into a cave.

“I saw you had wood in your bag, I’m going to make a fire, okay?”

Ona nods. Lucy choses a part of the cave hidden from the enter, to avoid the wind. And Ona realises it a little later, not to be seen by someone else. Ona just stays here, looking at the light from the fire on the walls. She realises that she’s crying only when Lucy sits next to her.

Lucy puts her hand softly on Ona’s back and it’s enough for the younger one to break.

“I wanted to save him. I just couldn’t” she chokes between tears and sobs.

Teagan’s death is hard to reach for Ona. They spend almost all their time together in the arena. She knew they had only little chance, but in her head, Teagan always would outlive her. She imagined that she would give her life for him.

“Hey now, you did everything you could to save him. You saved him several times before today.”

Lucy’s voice is soft, softer than she ever was.

“It wasn’t enough” Ona whispers through her tears.

“It’s okay” Lucy whispers.

Lucy passes both of her arms around Ona waist, taking her against her to rock her softly. Ona doesn’t really understand the sweet nothing Lucy whispers into her ears while comforting her, to be honest. But Lucy’s voice is enough.

“I’m sorry I arrived too late to save you both” Lucy says at some point, when Ona stops crying. “I thought I was too late for you too”

Her voice is only a whisper now, barely stronger than the crackling of the fire in front of them.

“But then I saw you grabbing this root… I was never as relieved as at that moment. I thought I lost you forever.”

Ona sniffles and raises her head to look at Lucy. Until now she had her head on her shoulder, her eyes lost somewhere on the fire. She must look awful but Lucy cups her cheek with the most tender gesture ever and uses her thumb to wipe Ona’s tears.

“Even if I were dead, you wouldn’t have lost me.” Ona whispers.

Into Lucy’s eyes, Ona forgets everything. She forgets her injuries, her stomach who hurts like crazy. The grief of Teagan’s death and the fact that they now have mortal enemies, probably looking for them everywhere.

“My parents aren’t okay with me being gay” Lucy blurts suddenly. “That is why Jorge was the only one who came to say goodbye. They were ashamed of me being their daughter.”

“How can someone be ashamed of you?” Ona thinks out loud, before shaking her head softly. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I’m going to kiss you.”

And she does. They haven’t kissed for days now, the last time it was before the Games. The kiss is tentative, Lucy’s hand always on Ona’s cheek. But it’s enough to make Ona melts.

Ona presses her body against Lucy after several seconds, but the pain of her injuries are waking up. She can’t help but groan in pain, making Lucy let go of her very quickly.

“It’s nothing” Ona assures when she crosses Lucy’s panicked eyes. “I think I have some bruises somewhere.”

After that, Lucy looks closely at Ona for the first time. She already had seen her face and eyes injured earlier, when they talked in the tree. But now she can see the burns on Ona’s arms, where the rope was.

And of course, Ona took some violent kicks from her fight with Camden and Seth.

“I saw that you had some cream in your backpack, could they be used to those injuries?” Lucy asks.

“I don’t know. I received it from the sponsors, after my face’s injury.”

Lucy hums, reaching for it. Ona gives it to her, looking at Lucy who sniffs it.

“Mh. Maybe we will use it just to your face, just in case.”

Ona nods. She doesn’t want to die because she puts the wrong cream at the wrong place on her body. She wanted to take it back from Lucy’s hand, but the dark-haired girl hides it behind her back.

“Close your eyes” she says.

Ona rolls her eyes and obliges, letting Lucy put the cream on her face. She is soft and tender, and Ona feels her body relax a little bit at the touch. She could sleep right now.

“Who hurts you like this?”

It reminds Ona about Seth’s question earlier, but this time there is no fun behind it. It’s just genuine concern.

“The boy from the 5. I can’t remember his name.”

“Is he the one you killed?”

“Yeah”

Lucy stays silent after this, still taking care of Ona. She insists on seeing Ona’s other injuries, making the girl roll her eyes again. Lucy cleans Ona’s burning on her hand and puts some cold water on her stomach, where she got kicked by Camden.

“Now sleep” Lucy finally says when she’s fine with the care she gave to Ona.

Ona frowns and opens her mouth to talk, but Lucy silences her by putting a finger on her lips.

“Sleep. I’ll take care of you.”

“Wake me up in four hours if I’m still asleep” Ona asks.

“Sure” Lucy snorts.

She won’t do it; they both know it already. But Lucy only has to stroke Ona’s hair for two minutes before the girl is out of the world, feeling really safe for the first time since she left her District.

“This is the first time we are sleeping together” Ona mumbles into Lucy’s knee when she snuggles against her.

Lucy hums, still stroking Ona’s hair. She has a lot to ask to Ona, just like Ona probably has a lot to ask at her. They will talk tomorrow. Tomorrow it will be them against the rest of the world, but for now, Ona needs to rest.

[voltaspistol]

There are some leftist spaces that make me, a queer disabled neurodivergent woman living in poverty, feel excluded and hated. I'm gonna be vulnerable for a moment, please don't crucify me, Tumblr. I had dared to say, in a mostly private space online that I thought was full of like-minded individuals who were all very accepting and understanding of the difficulties that come with intersectionality, that I felt guilty I wasn't giving money to Palestinian gofundmes as much anymore because my own financial situation is perilous, and I suspected I'd already given money to one or more scammers, and it had made me hesitate to put my trust in more GoFundMes. When you're living on just SSI? Getting scammed really fucking hurts. Money is always tight and there's not a lot of options for making a little extra. You can't pick up more hours of being disabled, and you try going down to the Social Security Administration and asking for a raise. It ain't happening. I was expecting some kind of, I don't know.... Tips on how to tell if the person saying "verified" wasn't a sock puppet account? Or maybe someone else commiserating that they too felt guilty they couldn't do more? Instead? I got all-caps screamed at by a person who accused me of being a white colonialist Nazi bitch who would suck Netenyahu's cock if it meant being able to keep more money to my greedy little lily white Zionist ass and I could go fuck myself with my buddy Genocide Joe making sport of killing Gazans. And the page owner scolded ME for speaking in a nasty way about Palestinians, not the person screaming profanities in caps lock. I unfriended the page owner without taking a screenshot, I was just so mortified and filled with self-hatred and blinking back tears, I didn't want to stick around for what these people were going to say to me next as I saw ".....someone is typing....." So that was. Um. Unexpected, I guess? But what happened next shook me to my fucking core. My brain all but announced, reflectively, in a voice that was not my own, "See? Fox News was right about these people, they hate you for the color of your skin and expect nothing but endless handouts" before I even knew what was happening. Like I was a fucking sleeper agent Tucker Carlson. And I was SHOCKED that my brain just .... Jumped to being a racist shithead?? Like, shit, I was exposed to Fox News as a teenager because my dad was a fucking racist shithead (may he continue to burn in hell) but if I didn't have the presence of mind to say, "Wait. Wait. Was that my own thought, or was that the racist crap I was exposed to bubbling to the surface????" then what was happening in the heads of people who don't have my years of therapy to make me second guess my first thoughts? I cried for a while, took stock of my beliefs, and realized that, huh, some leftist spaces are full of assholes who just spend all day trying to be the bestest leftist and anyone who isn't trying for that coveted spot as Karl Marx's Presumptive Heir becomes a training dummy for everyone who is jockeying for that position. If the Capital-L Left can make a queer disabled neurodivergent woman living in poverty feel excluded and hated and othered and blamed for all the world's problems, I shudder to think what leftists like that make regular old white men feel like. There are some leftists that are just plain fucking toxic. You are fortunate to have never accidentally found yourself among them, but yes, they definitely exist and they are the stuff of nightmares.

"The left makes white men feel excluded and hated" HOW. Where. By whom. I am a white man and I have never been anywhere that anyone showed any sign of being bothered by that, on or off the internet. Literally what the fuck does that shit mean at all. What in god's name are they blubbering about. Everyone I've ever met on what they consider "the left" has been immediately friendly and open and laid back and never called any attention to our differences at all. It's like they see the mangled pseudoprogressive gibberish of faux-liberal new york times democrats and just assume it accurately represents what any regular person on any known planet believes.

[dookiecurly]

okay dookie.. hear me out on this one,I've been cooking this idea in my mind for far too long, please bring it justice.

sooo- reader is on board the tulpar with the crew, they're a happy-go-lucky cheerful individual with an extremely charismatic personality and are jaw-droppingly attractive. ( Glazing ik forgive me )

here comes the twist,just by pure luck or by some coincidence or the other,the crew finds out that the reader was a very very very popular model in the past.

[ they found some of their old MAGAZINES/PORNOS ]

not just any model- playboy/gravure models who used to be incredibly popular and and a hotshot,but left that career in the past to focus on bigger things in space.

How would the crew react? Or behave towards them after finding out about their past? Would they be attracted towards her? Please I need to know you write so well

Uhhhmmm uhmmmmm. . Ookayyyy..... Okay.

Imagine how Curly felt when he found out the new worker, WHO HE DID NOT LOOK UP AND DOWN BECAUSE I KNOW HE'S NOT A PERVERT BECAUSE HES MY HUSBAND YOU DIPSHIT, was a model! Plus, he can see your tits too. I guess, he came back to Earth and was just browsing around a random shop when he found the magazine. Usually, he doesn't even bat an eye at them because let me say this again HE'S NOT A WEIRDO. Not to say that all people who buy revealing girl magazines are weirdos (they are). But he saw your face and was so shocked. Like, wow! He doesn't confront you about it. The first time he saw you after he saw the magazine, Curly stares you up and down with the image of your bare body with a bikini on. Of course, when you're not looking. This only happened a few times before he got used to it. People change, and he doesn't have the right to pry into their personal life. If you do tell him about your old job, he wouldn't be super... Surprised. I can't tell if he'd tell you that he already knew or he'd just act like he didn't. You choose.

JIMMY, might be ecstatic. First time he saw you, pretty face, pretty body, oh he is PLOTTING. I'm sorry, it's the truth. Now, he's found a magazine of you! YOU! Basically naked. When he found that magazine, he fucking stole it. 1. He doesn't want to be known as those guys, 2. In this economy? For a fancy paged excuse of a book? Yeah, no. Sometimes masturbates to it. Jimmy would definitely use it as blackmail if you don't want people finding out about your old job. Might even use it to get into your pants.

Okay so, I've got two perspectives on this for Swansea. First, you're a young model. Maybe he thought you were a pretty face, but it doesn't affect him that much. Pretty girls are everywhere, he doesn't need to get a boner about. When he saw the magazine, he didn't give a shit. Hes too old to care, but if you tell him, he'll say that he already knew.

Second, if you're around the same age and used to be a model in your 20s but wanted to try out a new job. Swansea thought you were quite youthful and pretty for your age (he's jealous), but still doesn't think much of it until he hears your name. Of course, young Swansea, imo, wasn't into magazines as well. But, he definitely knows the names of a few models. Who says his old friends weren't weirdos? Then he just brushes it off like, "Nah, probably a coincidence. Millions and billions of people are living in the universe, there's bound to be someone with the same name". Then when you tell him, he's like... A little shocked... But goes back to work. Thats all.

Daisuke already knows. DON'T TELL ME THAT HE DIDN'T ALREADY KNOW WHEN YOU CAME IN. I have a feeling that he's either really into the news of celebrities (Oh, no! Y/N quits modeling at age __?!???? Outrageous!!!) or his friends told him. Within a few moments, Daisuke is already up to you, asking if youre Y/N. Gets a pic and an autograph, and now he's happy. Yay >3<!!!

Anya, i think would also kind of know a few models. But only the really popular ones. She strikes me as a person who used to daydream of being as pretty as the girls on the cover, but then grew out of it. I don't think shes an insecure person if we're talking about looks. When she sees you, she definitely notices that you're pretty, but won't say much about it. Maybe a compliment, but that's all. Probably won't notice that you're one of the girls on the cover, but when she does, she kinda just... Doesn't say anything. Again, I don't think she thinks it's her business. If you tell her when she already knows, she'll just calmly say that she knew. If she didn't know until then, she'll probably be a little shocked but thats all. Nothing extravagant.

[silkenedstars]

What HSR men do when they get angry at reader?

Additional Notes: Somewhat edited (don't trust me though I'm doing this at 2am yet again), might make more parts featuring more male characters later idk

Try with all your might, you'll never get Argenti to be truly angry at you. The most you'll get from him is a gentle scolding, but nothing more. If there's a problem, then he'd rather approach it from a place of understanding. You're his beloved after all, you must have a reason for the things you do, be it a good or bad one.

✿❀✿

Aventurine will let a lot of things slide, especially if you're the one saying or doing those things. The only thing he won't, however, is anything relating to Sigonia: specifically his family and that he's the last avgin to survive.

He hates that he's vulnerable. The days of being a slave were long past him, he had all the wealth and power he could imagine now preventing him from being the weak little kid he was back then. But just a mention of his past is enough to bring back that horrible, claustrophobic feeling from back then.

It's still all too much for him, the wounds still painfully fresh in his mind. Despite all the power he held within the palm of his hand, he didn't have enough strength to properly confront those memories.

So won't you give him just a bit more time?

✿❀✿

Boothill doesn't like it if you say anything positive about the IPC, and he certainly won't be happy hearing you talk about them in general.

It hurts to hear their praise coming from you, and it especially hurts if he opened up to you about his past.

He'll distance himself from you, both because he wants time to himself and because he's hoping you'll realize what you did wrong and will apologise to him sooner or later.

But if you don't, then he has no problems cutting you off from his life. He'll miss you for sure, but the wounds of his past are far too deep for him to forgive you.

✿❀✿

The only way that you could ever upset Jiaoqiu, or betray his trust is by putting coriander in any one of his dishes. The moment he finds out? You can expect him to give you the cold shoulder for the rest of the day, muttering and pouting over how he chose to trust the wrong person.

Fortunately, his pouting won't last long and he'll be by your side by sunset; wanting cuddles for the rest of the night.

✿❀✿

The General isn't one to get mad, especially not towards his significant other. If there's a problem, then it's nothing that can't be fixed with a cuddle and a nap.

That said, he's not immune to being disappointed in you if you mess up seriously and cause a lot of problems. But, again, it's nothing that a cuddle and a nap can't solve…

…as well as a good talk after everything calms down and the mess is fixed, but cuddles come first as Jing Yuan requires a good rest before doing anything.

✿❀✿

Moze doesn't get mad per se, but he definitely gets petty; be it over something small like you accidentally adding too much spice to a dish, or something big like landing a hit on Feixiao... that she got on purpose, but neither you nor Moze needed to know that.

It'll be small things that show his pettiness, but nothing beyond what he usually does when he's in stalker mode. That said, while he is petty — and honestly, all too happy to annoy you as payback — he won't do anything that will put you in danger.

Protecting you is part of his job, after all.

✿❀✿

[haveihitanerve]

Had an idea but I forgor it so here's a different one

Bruce Wayne, concussed and on several strong painkillers, socializing with socialites from outside Gotham. They ask him about his kids and joke about how they all look so similar to him.

His brain, moving at about 3mph, does not register that his kids were ADOPTED (safe for one) and answers their questions as if he gave birth to them, forgetting he also doesn't have the facilities for that (unless you want him to- we love old trans people)

"Master Bruce I really must insist-" Alfred tried for the fourth time in seven minutes, Bruce had counted, reaching to push him back to bed and pull off the suit jacket he had only moments before helped Bruce put on.

"'M going Alf." Bruce grumbled back, rubbing a bleary hand over his eyes. "There's no use in putting it off. Don't have a good excuse and.." He grimaced. "They need to see me. It's been a while."

Alfred opened his mouth to protest again, even going so far as to move in front of the door to block his exit. "You are on far too many medications Mr. Wayne, not to mention a concussion! You simply cannot."

Bruce's lips twitched it amusement. It was a rare day when Alfred's composure was rattled to the point of calling him Mr. Wayne, and while Alfred was admittedly very strong, there was no way his physical blockation of Bruce's path would actually stop him.

"Alf." Bruce began gently, and the butler scoffed, rolling his eyes as he moved out of the way, striding down the long hallway. "Well. I see my advice isn't heeded. As always."

Bruce threw him an apologetic smile, heading for the main door. "Love ya Alfie!!" The butler snorted, but Bruce could tell he was softening.

"Call if you need boy." Alfred murmured. Bruce grinned, offering a wink as he pulled the door open. "I will." He promised, sliding into the backseat of his limousine, heading to the Gala.

He hissed as the needle broke his skin, biting his lip to prevent any further sounds as the anti-biotic worked its way into his system. Alfred would most definitely have protested its use, especially as Bruce tossed back a handful of other added painkillers, but if he was being honest, he needed them to get through the night.

"Thanks Hank. Tell your wife I said hi and grab her a bouquet on your way home. On me." He patted his driver's shoulder as he climbed out. Hank grinned, tipping his black cap.

"You always make me seem like such a good husband Mr. Wayne, I appreciate it. Have a good night." Bruce grinned back, stumbling slightly as he moved towards the doors, using the car to stabilize himself.

"You give me too much credit, send your boys some love and you have tomorrow off, try to actually use that baseball glove I gifted you." Hank chortled, setting the car into drive. "Will do sir. Good night." Bruce nodded the same back, watching until the car pulled away fully to stumble up the steps.

"Maybe those pills weren't such a good idea." He mumbled to himself as he made it to the doors, pulling them open to walk inside, heading straight for the table laid out with food. Of course, one couldn't enter a Gala without greeting the hosts, and he barely made it two steps before he was intercepted.

"Mrs. and Mr. Ketch. How lovely to see you." Bruce offered a bow, bending too low before rocking back upwards. Mrs. Ketch was smiling at him, a lovely, true smile that Bruce noticed tended to happen whenever he greeted the woman first instead of the man. Mr. Ketch was frowning, but more at Bruce's bizarre drunken act than any offense towards being placed after his wife.

"Are you alright, Wayne?" He asked, and Bruce hated that he actually liked the Ketch's, because there was genuine concern in the mans voice. Another reason why he had come.

The Ketch's were new money, self made, and trying to blend in with the old elites, though Bruce had to admit they never would, they were just too good, too kind, too sincere.

He wondered, dimly, in the back of his foggy, drug addled mind, if perhaps they'd finally tire of all the snide comments, rude looks, sneers, and give up on their well meaning charity that they had chosen Gotham for. He hoped they wouldn't. He liked having actual good conversation at these dull events.

"M fine, truly." Bruce answered, a few seconds too late, smiling lazily. "Might've had a few." He tried his best imitation at a drunken smile, wincing as he realized it was dangerously close to how he really felt.. tipsy. Off balance.

Robert, because that was his name, he had told Bruce his first name instead of demanding he call him Mr., frowned a little in concern, and before he knew it they had herded him to one of the seating places, settling down by him.

"How're the kids?" Mrs. Ketch asked, handing him a glass of water that Bruce gratefully accepted. "Amazing." He answered. "Splendid. They're always doing so well. They don't see it though." He frowned at his glass, wondering why that was.

"They're so amazing though. It just doesn't make any sense," He sat up, leaning forward to look at the couple in front of him intensely. They both had their eyebrows raised in surprise, but leaned forward in tandem, intruiged.

"Because see, they're so brilliant, and lovely, and smart, really I think they're the smartest people in the world- like ever. And Dickie, he's so kind and sweet and nice, and he's got a few problems and I'm sorry about it but he's really just amazing and an all around good person, I really oughtta try and be more like him, and oh he's got my eyes, im so glad he got my eyes, but i love his nose too, its nothing like mine- anyway Jason too- whoo he got my height im so happy for him- he also has my eyes! they all have my eyes actually, except cass, and damian, but like he's so brilliant and smart and he was such a good kid, he is now too- oh he doesn't like me calling him kid, but he'll always be my baby, and oh i cried so much when he died, but he better now, oh and Timmy, oh timmy is so smart. Soooo smart like genuis level, and he's wayy smarter than me, wayyyy smarter, and alfie says he has my hair, but i dont see it- i think he got my jaw though- and then Cass oh Cassandra My baby girl she's lovely and sweet and a charmer, beautiful girl, so is Barbara, but she won't let me say that to her, no no, but she is, she's so pretty and smart and quick, she scares me sometimes but I love her, such a good girl yknow? And Stephanie? Oh she and Tim need to make it official so shes mine. mine mine mine. I need another daughter you know? Too many boys. Equality of men and women at home. I need them home. And then Duke. hes so lovely too. Oh and Damian. Damian took some adjusting but they're all so lovely yknow? I remember the day they were born so vividly. I was so happy. I love them so much. It hurt, of course, but what is that to the joy they bring now yknow?"

Bruce took a sip of his drink, nodding thoughtfully as he leaned back. Mrs. and Mr. Ketch blinked a few times, opened their mouths, closed them again, and leaned back as well, exchanging glances.

"Yes. Well. Quite." Mr. Ketch cleared his throat. "Bruce, perhaps we should call you someone? To take you home?" Mrs. Ketch nodded her agreement.

"Come on sweetheart, let's get you home. You need to go to bed and.. and sleep this off." Bruce nodded, letting them help him stand and guide him to the door as Mr. Ketch called someone.

"Yeah. I like bed. And sleep. Oh- but I can't. Uh-uh, I promised Dickie I'd call him." Bruce nodded, turning to head back inside as though that would help his quest.

Mrs. Ketch grabbed his arm and gently, but firmly, led him back outside. "Rob just called him sweetheart, he's on his way."

"Oh." Bruce nodded. "Oh. Thas good." Mrs. Ketch nodded her agreement, rubbing his back soothingly. "I like that." Bruce hummed, letting his eyes close. "Its like what my mother used to do." Mrs. Ketch looked at him in surprise, hand stilling for a second before resuming.

"Really?" She asked gently. Bruce hummed in confirmation. "Oh yes. Yeah she did. You do it well. You'd make a good mom. Just like me. Well, I don't make a good mom." At that he frowned at the ground, biting his lip. "But I try."

Mrs. Ketch smiled, turning them as a car pulled up. "Yes. You do. And you do it marvelously Bruce, truly. That's all we can ever do. Try." Bruce nodded his agreement as the door opened and his eldest emerged, rushing to his side.

"Bruce!" Dick looked genuinely worried, grabbing his shoulder. "You alright?" His son's eyes were searching, scanning his body.

"Oh hes fine." Mrs. Ketch waved with a smile. "Just a few drinks. I think it'd be best he go home though, sleep it off." Dick nodded his agreement, smiling at her. "Yes. I think thats best. Thank you." She shrugged, waving it off.

"Of course. It's what he would have done for me." Dick lowered Bruce into the passenger seat, heading for the drivers. "Bruce." Ketch tapped the window, leaning down. "Hm?" Bruce tilted his head, rolling it down.

"I'm pregnant." Bruce waited, jaw dropping slowly as the words connected in his brain. "You are?" She nodded, a small smile crossing her face.

"Yes. You're the first person I've told." She glanced nervously over her shoulder, to where her husband was waiting on the steps. Bruce reached for her hand, clasping it in his own.

"You'll make an excellent mother. And he will make an amazing father." He promised. She smiled, biting her lip anxiously. "You think?" Bruce nodded. "I know." At that her smile softened, and she patted his cheek.

"Thank you. And, for what it's worth Bruce," She glanced past him to Dick, who was kindly pretending not to listen. "I think you make an excellent mother."

[weirdsht]

Heya!! Can I request a tcf x reader fic from where the reader is teenager and got teleported there? Somehow they can see the dreams of the future and knew about tcf novel while also being a full on simp for the main characters?(But also the thing that the young reader was someone who has been to various worlds and was in a loop, repeating things but without the memory of them doing so each time. They get glimpses ofcourse but it was just their past self trying to give out signals to not repeat any mistakes)

Definitions - Cale & Teen! Reader

notes: sorry anon i couldn't reflect all of your ideas because i found some of them hard to combine when i started writing. also this plot is better suited for a long fic/series but i don't have that time and energy huhu

tags: gender-neutral reader, mentions of death and dying (can be a little graphic but nothing too bad), teenager reader, nightmares

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome (for a limited time)

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist

“You should be more careful, this is uncharted territory.”

The look-a-like caressed your face softly as they spoke. Eyes filled with concern and uncertainty bore into you.

You may look alike but there’s something different about them.

Maybe it’s their mature aura. Perhaps it could be the tired look in their eyes. As though they have been suffering for eternity and want everything to end.

Whether they long for peace or eternal rest even you do not know.

“Still… this is a good opportunity and something we haven’t tried yet. Maybe you’ll be safer under his watch.”

“What do you mean by that? Who are you?”

You spoke for the first time since being transported in this weird abyss.

Being transmigrated into a novel like a lousy isekai protagonist was already confusing, but now you have to add weird dreams on top of that.

However, it beats trying to survive in that place you used to call home.

Between being endlessly confused and going back there… you’d choose the former any time of the day.

“I am you, well a part of you at least. As for what I mean… let’s just say this is for your own good.”

The supposed “you” paused briefly as they rested their hand on their chin. Probably thinking about how much they can disclose. Once they made up their mind their fingers caressed your head.

You may not know what’s happening, but you can tell they’re trying to provide comfort.

And it’s probably for the arduous path waiting beyond this dream.

“We’ve been through this many times, and each time you forget… I do not know if god has forsaken us or is playing a cruel joke…”

The look-a-like sighed before hugging you tightly. You meant to reciprocate, however, before you could raise your arms a sharp pain went through your neck.

“AGH! IT HURTS!”

It really does. It feels as though someone’s digging a knife through your neck, Trying to separate your head from your body.

When you manage to come back to your senses the other you are gone. The only thing left in the abyss is your and your throbbing neck.

…And wouldn’t you know, the moment you looked at your hands that were previously clutching your neck… all you could see was blood.

“-[me]”

“-[me]!”

“[Name]!”

“[Name] wake up!”

You jolt up as the familiar voice wakes you up from your dream. That’s right, you are currently under Cale Henituse’s wing after being transmigrated inside the novel you were reading. You have momentarily forgotten such a fact.

Clutching your throbbing neck, you tried to look at the redhead through your tears. Not that you are succeeding at the moment. However, you think you could see a slightly startled look on the young master’s usually calm face.

“Young master..?”

You asked, unsure of everything as your mind is still hazy. Still trying to get out of dreamland.

“You were screaming and crying in your sleep.”

Cale stated calmly as if he wasn’t panicking a minute ago. Still, his eyes roamed around you several times to double-check if there was anything wrong.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The redhead asks as he gently wipes your tears and pry your hands away from your neck.

“I’m sorry young master. I don’t think I can for I don’t remember the contents of my dream… All I could remember was that there was a searing pain in my neck. It-it felt so real. As though I was in the middle of the battlefield and someone was sawing their sword back-and-forth on my neck…”

You tried to explain to the best of your abilities. You didn’t want to lie to the man that you considered your saviour.

Both when you were reading the novel and when you transmigrated.

In every form, fictional character or not, Cale Henituse has always been your saviour in one way or another. And thus you hold deep respect for the man.

“Don’t push yourself. Sometimes forgetting and never remembering is better than being reminded constantly.”

Ah, he must be referring to his record ability. A blessing and a curse indeed…

“Still, if you feel unwell or anything come to me. I took a kid like you in so I must take responsibility for you till the very end.”

Cale Henituse probably doesn’t know the impact of his words. Just how much you have longed to hear such things.

No, perhaps he does. Perhaps more than anyone, Kim Rok Soo has been the one longing to hear those words since he was a child.

“I’ll keep that in mind…”

With that, Cale stepped out for a moment to ask a servant to fetch a glass of warm milk. After doing so he returned to your side, sitting on the side of your bed. He looks unwilling to leave you, despite having three younger children waiting for him in his bedroom.

“Don’t hold back, have you seen me holding back from doing and saying whatever I want? You don’t have to push yourself to act like a grownup around me. I’m the adult, those things are for me to bear.”

Cale’s words suddenly found their way to your memory when you were about to urge him to go back to On, Hong, and Raon. That combined with the redhead’s determined gaze to not leave your side has you clamping your mouth shut.

Soon enough a maid delivered the glass of milk to your room and you drank it to your heart’s content. Then the morning after that you could feel the children averaging 7 years old sleeping beside you.

The weeks following that are peaceful. Well as peaceful as Cale’s life could get at least. Not that it says much since he has the tendency to meddle in things that will only jeopardize his slacker life.

Despite that, your days are looking better. After that night you didn’t seem to experience excruciating nightmares anymore. You also seemed to have opened up to the rest of the crew.

Perhaps that’s why Cale became complacent, causing him to lower his guard.

And perhaps that’s also why his face hardens 10x more than it would have weeks ago. His anger soars through the sky, reaching the gods even, as he hears the heartbroken sobs you utter on your lips after waking up from a nightmare.

“Am I such a bad child for the gods to do this to me? Have they forsaken me? What did I do that was so wrong that warrants this kind of suffering?”

You sobbed on the young’s master chest. You look so out of it. Eyes glazed over as if you’re not with Cale despite being in his embrace. You continued to wail, continued to curse the world for putting you in a type of pain that not even Cale can comprehend.

“I’m tired, I’m so tired. How many times has it been? I’ve tried my best… I always did, but I don’t know what the gods want.”

As you looked up at the ceiling, perhaps trying to directly ask the gods, Cale could finally clearly see your eyes.

They were filled with pain and suffering. Such young eyes carry the weight of the world.

It did not belong to the teen who was laughing and playing around with the kids and Choi Han.

It was still you, but it wasn’t the you that Cale is currently raising.

The meddlesome transmigrator couldn’t understand it himself, but he was sure of this feeling that he had about you.

Hence why when you finally passed out he immediately ordered someone to summon Cage and Saint Jack.

Cale Henituse might be a piece of trash but he always sees through his promises.

Even if he has to fight every god out there to fulfil it.

Because for Cale Henituse, that’s what it means to be a guardian.

[forlornmelody]

Icarus & The Sun

Rating: Mature (Things get hot and heavy but no actual smut)

Fandom: Good Omens

Ship: Crowley/Aziraphale

Summary:  My take on the 1941 kiss, or is it?

Note: Mind the tags, will you? This ain't your mum's 1941 kiss.

-----

“There must be something I can do for you in return?” Surely the angel has realized by now how ridiculous he seems when he looks at Crowley like that. 

“Forget it, will you?” If Crowley were any other demon, he’d walk all over him. “Right.” Crowley clears his throat shifting the conversation and the Bentley to safer places. Aziraphale would be scandalized if he had any idea of what he was offering. “Spot of business to do–”

“Have you ever wondered what it was like?”

The Bentley jerks to a stop. A bomb nearly falls on them but Crowley whisks it out of existence with an automatic wave of his hand. He’s too focused on the white knuckles of his other hand to pay attention to much else. ‘Lot going on. That’s why he’s not hearing the angel right. Right? “What?”

Aziraphale giggles girlishly, only to swallow it with a cough. “I mean. They do it all the time. The humans, I mean.”

Bloody hell, Angel. “Do what?” Crowley dares to glance at the angel, praying-well, not praying exactly –that the shadow of his sunglasses hide where his gaze is pointing. No. Aziraphale’s not blushing. It’s the fiery glow of London’s streets. Yeah. That’s it. 

The angel nudges the Bentley into park. And then his fingers ghost across Crowley’s once free hand. “Touch each other.”

Aziraphale’s fingertips are as soft as the whisper of an owl’s feathers. They light a spark on the back of Crowley’s hand–one that travels up his spine and back down. He forgets to breathe. 

“You alright, Crowley?” Aziraphale starts to pull his hand away, before Crowley grabs onto it for dear life. 

“Don’t stop,” Crowley chokes out, squeezing Aziraphale’s fingers between his own. Dear Satan, if the other demons saw him now. 

His angel smiles as bright as the sun. He clears his throat, glancing down at the hand still clutched between Crowley’s and the demon lets go as if he had been holding onto a hot iron. “Thank you,” Aziraphale says with the softest chuckle. With a boldness that always catches Crowley by surprise, he grazes those finger tips across his hand again, but he goes farther this time, letting them fly up inside Crowley’s jacket, stilling as his palm finds his beating heart. The angel lets out a soft gasp, his finger tip matching the rhythm that hammers inside Crowley's chest. His lips stay parted, and Crowley’s tongue darts out of his mouth ever so slightly, as if he could taste the angel from here. “You’re so warm.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Crowley means it as a joke, but it comes out in a desperate rasp. Clearly no one who has touched a demon has ever actually said they were cold hearted. Has…has any other demon been touched like this? 

Aziraphale’s fingers brush the satin of Crowley’s shirt, and one finger grazes the space between two buttons, just barely touching his skin. Something inside Crowley snaps. He scoops up the angel’s hand, drawing it up to his lips to kiss. His eyes watch Aziraphale for a reaction, any reaction. The angel says nothing, though that blush– definitely a blush –spreads across his round cheeks. 

“Angel…” Crowley whispers, half-begging, half-warning.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s bright eyes search his own, his smile growing wider and wider…

The demon feels as if his body is being pulled through the center of the universe. With a trembling hand, Crowley dares to brush his fingers along the angel’s jaw. “Aziraphale,” he whispers.

Crowley isn’t sure who kisses who first—only that he would dare to never breathe again if that meant he could keep kissing him. Aziraphale presses deeper, drinking the demon in the same way he did his first goblet of wine—all haste and hunger, and Crowley can’t bear to tell him to slow down. That angel can’t decide on where to keep his hands, and so they wander from winding underneath Crowley's hat to grasp at his hair–to his shoulders, his back, his arms…Grinning against Crowley’s mouth, Aziraphale runs his fingers innocently…or perhaps not, to Crowley’s belt. 

Finally, Aziraphale pulls away from kissing Crowley, biting his swollen lip. Crowley didn’t even think about biting. Oh how he wants to now….”Is this alright?” The angel tugs on Crowley’s belt ever so slightly. Funny how Crowley hadn’t noticed how tight his pants had become. 

“Yes . ”  

Aziraphale’s fingers fumble as he works on the buckle, and Crowley is half-tempted to wrench his hands out of the way to speed things up but his knuckles feel oh so wonderful against his crotch–the belt gets tossed into the backseat. The angels fingers wander into Crowley’s pants–

Crowley’s eyes fly open. He sits up, shivering in his own sweat. Even the heat of his flat can’t match that of an angel’s touch. Bumping into his desk, Crowley remembers the day he watched the new archangel leave. How he waited for what felt like an eternity for Aziraphale to change his mind-to step out of that elevator with a laugh “Oh, Crowley, I didn’t mean it!” But that moment didn’t come. 

Does Aziraphale dream of him? Does he sleep? Does Aziraphale ever get the chance to sleep? 

Wandering into the atrium, Crowley gazes up at the sky. 

[melanieph321]

Do you have any Josko Gvardiol fanfic coming soon

Of course!

10 DAYS OF REQUESTS

(DAY 5)

Joško Gvardiol - Not Romantic

+18

Summary - Reader wants Joško to be more romantic. Unfortunately, he listens to her.

Enjoy 💞

He wasn't the date night kind. Nor the surprise you with flowers kind. Joško was simply the hug you from behind kind while whispering filthy promises in your ear. But would it really kill him to be a tad more romantic?

"Yes." He answered.

"It would?"

The two of you were just about to go to bed after yet another hectic day, making the timing of your question utterly bizarre to Joško.

"Y/N, what does it even mean to be romantic? Am I not romantic?"

"No Joško, you are not. Slapping me in the ass in the grocery store a mids the dry goods, does not count for romance. I want flowers and perhaps a more gentle approach to our love and affection for one another. Is that too much to ask for?"

Joško seemed puzzled, his bushy eyebrows low on his forhead. "So you want me to be gentle....in bed?"

"Ugh!" You sighed, roughly uncovering the duvet, tucking yourself into bed.

"Oh, come on baby. Don't be like that." Joško went on to dim the lights in your room before joining you in bed. He reached for you under the covers, however you refused him by shifting to lay on your side.

"If romance is too much of an ask and effort for you, I don't really see the point with us being together."

Joško stiffened with your words, the silence that followed a bit nerve-wracking. However, you stood your ground and fell asleep convinced that this was the necessary change that would sustain your relationship.

The next morning you woke up in bed alone. Joško had left for an early training session, however, his early endearments still tickled your ear. "I'm sorry that I'm not enough for you. But don't worry, I'll show you."

It broke your heart that your argument last night resulted in Joško feeling like he wasn't enough for you. That was never your case in point. You were just demanding a bit more sensual awareness from your boyfriend. What else could you have said that would've made him understand?

"Babe, I'm home."

"Joško?"

A whole day had gone by since you last saw your boyfriend, and being off from work definitely didn't mend your anxious mind. You spent the day cleaning your apartment while waiting for him to come home. Seeing Joško standing in the door, flowers in one hand and takeout in the other, instantly melted your heart.

"Oh, baby. Are those for me?" You approached him where he stood, accepting the flowers that were handed to you.

"You told me to be more romantic, didn't you?" He bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. However, a deep growl escaped his mouth as the kiss naturally deepend.

It took Joško everything not to escalate the situation by stripping you of your clothes right then and there.

"Dinner." He drunkenly rumbled, dragging his nose along the skin of your collarbone. "It might get cold."

"Right, dinner." You were slurring on your words, perhaps as infatuated by your boyfriend, who set his pride aside to give you what you wanted.

It turned you on.

Extremely.

"So, how was your day?" You asked, happy to sit across from him, the man of your dreams, sharing takeout dinner from that Croatian restaurant that you both loved.

"It was good baby. How was yours?"

"Good, just good."

"Great." Joško chuckled, returning to the plate on his food.

It dawned on you as silence fell, that your heart was beating fast and your palms were turning clammy with sweat. A fever, first came to your mind. However, as Joško got up to clear your plates, you sat back and watched how his muscles worked when he gloved up to scrub the dishes. His biceps swelled with every movement, slowly fueling your not so romantic thoughts.

"Baby?"

Strucked by how horny you were, you shook your head in hopes of calming your filthy mind that told you to fall down onto your knees and please your man. "Yes, honey?"

"I'm gonna take a quick shower. Do you wanna watch a movie when I return?"

"Erm, sure. Yes. A movie sounds great."

"Great. Pick whatever movie you want." He winked, disappearing into the bathroom.

You fanned yourself at the thought of him naked in a shower. Without you. "God, Y/N. Get yourself together." You were acting like a timid school girl. After the arguments of last night, here you were ready to beg Joško to run you over like a locomotive.

No.

You had to remain resolute. If Joško could make tonight about romance, so could you.

While your boyfriend kept busy in the bathroom you took it upon yourself to light some candles, pop some popcorn and set up the living room for a cozy movie night.

Just as you returned from the kitchen, Joško stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt, rubbing his wet hair with a towel.

"Good, you're ready." You said, setting down the bowl of popcorn.

"I am." He smiled. "Are you?"

"Me?" You followed his gaze set on your body, realizing that Joško was referring to your not so cozy clothes. "Oh, right. I'll be right back."

By the time you returned to the living room, wearing a sweater and shorts, Joško lay on the couch, legs spread and the remote weighing in his hand.

"Are you ready for a movie night?" You smiled.

Joško's arm slumped at the sight of you, his eyes wondering freely to your braless chest and your low cut shorts. By now he should have commented on how hot you looked, or how he wanted you to sit on is lap. Face, if he was feeling kinky. However, Joško said nothing, innocently beaming at you with those dark eyes. "Ready." He smiled, inviting you to join him on the couch. You did so, snuggling up to his warm body where you eventually fell asleep as Batman fought the Joker on TV.

You woke up towards the end of the movie, however, Joško's grainy voice whispering in your ear. "I hope you liked the flowers."

"Mmm. I did baby. I really did." You hymnd. "Remind me to put them in water before we go to bed."

"No need." He said, his hand slowly traveling up and down your back. "I already did it for you."

Your eyes peered open, meeting your boyfriend's loving eyes. His gentle gaze that had no desire to fuck you sensless on this very couch.

God, what have you done to your man.

"Joško?" You raised your head from his shoulder.

"Yes, baby?"

You were lost for words. He was perfect. The man of your dreams. A curly haired beast. He was perfect just the way he was, romantic or not. "I love you." You squealed.

Joško's gaze softened, his eyes searching your face. "I love you too."

"Please, fuck me." You sighed. "Hard, not gentle."

He grinned. "As you wish baby. As you..."

He didn't get to finish that sentence. You were all over his ass before he could open his mouth and utter another word.

You got flipped to lay on your back, Joško's hands roaming freely under your sweater. Your chest arched into his open palms. A loud moan escaping your mouth as Joško went to nibble your ear with a nip of his tounge, the smell of him uncovering your desire for his body, his cock, that should be deep in your mouth by now.

"Calm down baby." He chuckled roughly. "Don't you want me to take my time with you? To be gentle?"

"Fuck, no."

Joško's laughter drummed in your ear. He then lowered himself so that his head was set between your legs.

Your body stirred below him, eager for his hands to get rid of your shorts. Joško did so with the most taunting of smiles, licking his lips once he discovered that you weren't anything underneath, making this so called romance easy for him.

"Fuck Y/N, you taste amazing."

"I do?"

You watched him dip his head back between your legs, tasting you in a way that contracted every muscle in your belly. Your head fell back with the way his tounge circle your clit, playfully yet eager.

"Mmm. So fucking delicious." He groaned, his hands squeezing your ass, raising your hips towards his gaping mouth.

"God, Joško."

It was unbearable.

He was unbearable.

Unbearably romantic in his own way.

As Joško continued to drain you of your senses of the world, you came to the conclusion that romance was indeed an important part of a healthy and sustainable relationship. Your relationship, however, was fine just the way it was, with your boyfriend knowing just the right way to please you.

DON'T MISS - 10 DAYS OF REQUESTS

(DAY 1)

(DAY 2)

(DAY 3)

(DAY 4)