#there is no excuse for not having finally sat down and WRITTEN!

[niceutossu]

Serious | Oikawa x Reader

Oikawa doesn’t want to get married until you get hurt and he can’t see you. “Family only,” the nurse tells him coldly. And he tries his best to charm his way through, joking about how you two were even closer than family but the worker doesn’t budge.

“Only blood relatives?” He asks, despite knowing the answer himself.

“Or spouse.” The woman replied, avoiding eye contact as she scribbled down important information and continued ignoring his existence.

“I’m practically-“ Before he could finish, he stopped at the sight of her hand raising.

“Are you legally married?” She interjected, clearly having gone through this conversation dozens of times before. Oikawa couldn’t even blame her for the annoyance, as much as he couldn’t blame himself for trying.

“No.” He says dejectedly, shoulders falling with a deep sigh.

“Then please just wait until actual family gets here.” She states, motioning towards the waiting room as he did his best not to scowl.

Instead, he offered her a forced but friendly smile, retreating towards the uncomfortable hospital chairs. As he sat down the plastic squeaked: loud and jarring, and he grimaced. There was no point in arguing but it didn’t ease the nervousness crawling under his skin. How long had you been here? How long before he could see you? He began tapping his foot restlessly, only serving to amplify the ache in his chest.

You two were family, practically at least. You both lived together. You shared meals, inside jokes, and the kind of silence that only happens between people who really get each other. He knew how you liked your tea, the temperature you liked to have bath drawn to. Was that not family-like?

He clenched his hands, feeling his fingernails dig into his palms as memories started to surface, further sharpening the ache. He’d never bothered to bring up marriage, and you never asked. You both knew—knew what being a pro-athlete entailed. Time off spent planning was time he lost playing. He thought he had made it clear he was still yours and you were his. But now, as he sits helplessly outside your hospital room, he regrets never saying anything.

If you were really his he’d be able to see you, and if he was really yours then he’d be willing to settle down and take things seriously. He feels himself cringe as he remembers similar words Iwaizumi had spoken to him the night you two had first met.

After introductions and hours of chatting, the three of you finally settled into a comfortable rhythm. You and Iwaizumi were a surprise match—though Oikawa teased that it shouldn’t be that surprising given that he had good taste, earning him a synchronized glare from the two of you.

He felt his heart flip in his chest—he really did have good taste (and maybe a type). Later, during a moment of quiet, Oikawa excused himself to the bathroom. When he returned, he found the two of you sitting in a mutual silence.

“Hey I was gone for just a second now, what happened to all the good times?” He joked, his signature smirk only lasting a moment before being startled by the sound of the restaurant staff singing happy birthday behind him.

Turning around, he watched as they brought out a small cake with candles. His name written out in chocolate syrup and topped off with powdered sugar in the shape of his jersey number.

“I told her you weren’t worth it but she insisted.” Iwaizumi deadpanned, but the softness in his eyes betrayed him. Oikawa felt a lump form in his throat at the sight of your warm smile. The glow from the candles were nothing compared to the light in your eyes when you looked at him.

“Happy birthday Tooru.” You spoke gently, contrasting the loud cheers behind him. He felt a weird weakness wash over him, one that scared him more than the surprise singing.

You’d already celebrated with him that morning—and afternoon. He’d never thought you’d extend it to dinner. He was known to be a dramatic guy, extravagant even, but being celebrated for those things felt foreign.

Later, as you took a call nearby and he and Iwaizumi argued over the bill, his friend placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi asked, his voice softer than usual, “you’re serious about this, right?” He didn’t need to specify; his question hung in the air, pressing gently but firmly on Oikawa’s usual bravado.

Caught off guard, Oikawa searched for a lighthearted response, but Iwaizumi’s hand didn’t move. He hesitated, then admitted quietly, “I’ve never been celebrated like this before.” He felt small under the weight of his best friend’s discerning gaze.

In all his previous relationships, he had failed to feel true intimacy, always keeping partners at an arms-length. He thought your relationship would be no different, that it’d still be on his terms albeit a bit toxic.

Except it was not like that at all.

You were like a whirlwind in his life, at first catching him off guard but now helping him build solid foundations. Between the two of you, he was definitely more needy. In the past, he would’ve said it was the other way around but you had your own undeniable magnetism. Anyone with eyes would be sure to see it too, and see right through him at the same time.

The feminine niceties he thought he had grown accustomed to had him giddy and unable to keep his hands off you. Everything you did had his heart racing and for the first time in his life, he was nervous to lose someone.

His suave streak had been brutally ended by your presence alone, having made him feel like he was worth loving again and again without even knowing. His own sweet and cheeky angel.

“If it feels good, then take it seriously.” Iwaizumi replied, his words simple but earnest. Before Oikawa could respond, you returned, bringing back your carefree nature he always craved, the same one he was starting to feel like he didn’t deserve.

Despite it being his birthday, despite feeling a certain question rise behind the heaviness in his throat after his exchange with Iwaizumi, he stayed quiet. He could’ve at least made a joke about it then, but he didn’t.

He’d told himself he was taking it, you, seriously—that you would understand without him saying it out loud. You knew him and he knew you, was that not enough? Maybe not to Iwaizumi, who also knew him maybe a bit better than he knew himself sometimes. The thought of losing you the same way he’d lost others left a knot in his stomach.

He had tried to ignore this truth: that you meant something more—not just to him, but to the people he loved. Yet every now and then, there would be reminders of just how deeply you’d embedded yourself into his life.

He started to reminisce on how he’d found out how you kept visiting his nephew after he’d left for Argentina. He’d received a photo out of the blue: you and Takeru, cheek-to-cheek, grinning at the zoo. His younger self would’ve called it impossible—Takeru, in a picture? Smiling? But there it was.

He quickly replied back with a like to the photo and a teasing message along the lines of ‘huh why what’. He’d barely hit send before you replied with another picture. This time it was of you and his older sister pressed cheek to cheek, her eyes shining with the same warmth he felt every time he looked at you.

“Sponsored trip by my favorite Oikawa <3,” you’d written.

As much as he wanted to text back a cheeky remark he felt himself falter, too focused on the way his sisters eyes shined with the same affection he felt for you. It made him feel a little funny, a little weak. The same way he felt when Iwaizumi prodded him. This was family and something else he couldn’t name quite yet.

Without even thinking he called you, needing to hear your voice and feel like he was there with you (and, of course, remind you that he’s your favorite). He’d kept his tone light, playful. But there’d been a weight in his chest, the same question hovering unasked. He knew you could tell in the way you asked him things, lingered onto his replies as if to find some deeper meaning.

Again, he could have asked. He could have made you family in name as well as in his heart, so many times. Except now, that same question haunted him, and he wasn’t sure he even deserved to ask anymore.

He shook his head as if to rid himself of any more good memories, not allowing himself to relish in you with all the regret that gnawed at him. He was so good at not biting his tongue except when it came to things that mattered. Because nothing was serious to Oikawa until it was, for better or for worse.

And he didn’t know exactly when you had become serious to him, but you had. He felt a tremor pass through him at the thought of seeing you look anything less than alive. Or not being able to make you laugh when you come home sullen anymore.

He moved around restlessly at that thought of not seeing you again. It felt wrong—horribly wrong. He took in a deep breath to calm his ragged nerves. He would see you again, even if it meant seeing you at your worst.

You had seen him at his most selfish and prideful and yet, you still reached out to him, unafraid. He wanted, no, needed to show you that he loved every single part of you the same, no matter how overwhelming because no one could be as much as he is sometimes.

All the relationships he had in high school, college, and the flings in-between had felt so stifling. The thought of making a legal commitment had always made Oikawa’s skin crawl. Except now, sitting under the sterile white lights and thinking of just how much you meant to him feels even more suffocating. You weren’t a high school girl or a fling, you were you.

And then the realization hits him hard: maybe he does wants all of it, as long as it’s with you—the highs, the lows, the commitment he once ran from. For there to never be any more regrets, to love and to cherish, all of it as long as it was with you.

But what if he was too late again?

“Tooru?” The soft sound of your voice pulls him from his spiraling thoughts. His head snaps up, eyes wide as he sees you standing there, in a hospital gown, looking a bit pale but alive. Your face is a little worn, eyes sunken in but you’re still here. You’re still you. Relief floods him, so overwhelming he barely notices the creak of the plastic chair as he rises, taking long and purposeful strides towards you.

If it feels good then take it seriously.

He stands in front of you for a moment, not knowing where to place his hands as familiar words gather in his throat the way they had so many times before. Except he doesn’t let himself hold back—not this time. He’d held onto these words for too long, out of fear or pride, whatever it was, it didn’t matter now.

Everything is clear as he sinks down on one knee, eyes locked on yours as he finally gives in to what he’s always wanted: you.

[hannieboyd]

ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ & ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ.

pairings: tutor!jisung x fem!reader | collage au

contains: +18, unprotected sex (be safe!!), Sub!jisung, slight mommy kink (used once), dom!reader like wow WE NEED MORE DOM READERS, dry humping, strangers to lovers(?) , real nerdy jisung with a big N, perverted on both sides lowkey (mostly Han), college sex

word count: 3,329

extras: first attempt of a full english fic, I procrastinated and crammed it into one night aswell lol.. please excuse any mistakes!

Tutor!jisung who’d never go out of his way to talk to girls, hell, he barely even left his dorm. but when he saw you enter the class, rolled up sleeves, nearly see through top and a short uniform skirt he wasn’t sure where to look. it was even worse when he saw how your thighs slowly press down against the chair as you sat down, wishing it was him instead. His eyes trailed you down as you sat in front of him, whether it was just writing your name down or checking your phone to see if your boyfriend texted you, he was watching. He already had a hard time paying attention in this class, and now it became impossible with you there.

Even when the teacher called on him he stared at you.

He’d actually known of you for a while. You guys even went to high school together but you knew his friends more than you knew of him. In all honesty you thought he hated women the way you never saw him with them. He was always so quiet, pushing his glasses up to see better, usually on his phone even if he was with his friends, he was kind of..a dork. In a cute way though. Sure he might’ve been an anime nerd…and a gaming nerd..and well, a nerd. He was actually really attractive. Many people tend to see through that though because of his shy nature which was pretty unfortunate. Despite that, you found him pretty Intriguing.

So when you saw him in your class in the beginning of the semester you were pretty excited to see a familiar face. However it was different, it had only been a couple months and something about him had changed. It seemed he grew into his features overtime and surprisingly looked pretty attractive, But you had a boyfriend, Not to mention he seemed so infatuated with his studies and his own self it was dumb to get involved with him at all.

The weeks seemed to pass by fast.

Slowly but surely he found himself growing a crush on you—just alittle one though. Yeah he only started showing up to see you, but the class was hard to get through so a little pick me up was needed regardless. Eventually he even started to wonder how you were, what you did before coming and what you were going to do after the class was done. It was confusing on why. He’s had crushes in the past, yeah, but for some reason it’s like somethings drawing him to you. He was so fixated on you he even knew that during the time you’d been in the class, you have actually had quite a hard time. When you had gotten your first exam back last week with a 20/60 and a big red circle written on it he went home later and fisted himself to the thought of you on your knees, blouse open ever so slightly but still enough to show a bit of your pink bra peaking out, sucking his dick, while thanking him for tutoring you over his moans. So when Professor Lee suggested him tutor you he was quick to agree.

And when you came up to him smiling, holding your phone out to him to put his number into while also thanking him for agreeing to tutor you he couldn’t move. not a muscle. It was until you asked if he was okay he snapped back into reality.

“oh, sorry.. i’m okay. and your welcome..” he said quietly while holding eye contact with the floor.

you chuckled at his nervousness

“I’ll see you later then, jisung!” you said while waving goodbye. “yeah..later.”

It had been a couple days since your guys last encounter and since then Han had checked his phone about 5 times per minute. It was until he finally got a text he let out a sigh. not a bad sigh, but it wasn’t necessarily a good one either. “Hey, i know it’s been a couple days but I’m available around 6 if that works for you 🙂” The text was simple, but Han was unsure how to respond. He’s never texted a girl before, other than his mom and sister, he was basically a shut in. women repellent if you will.

After a quick exchange with his friends he decided to go he decided on a casual response that said, “sure. that works fine for me”

“cool! see you then jisung”

He nearly threw his phone across the room. he probably would of if he didn’t have expensive figures all over it. He eventually calmed himself down and decided to tidy up around the dorm. after all, sharing with 2 other men was, to put this bluntly, fucking disgusting. To go boxes everywhere, dirty clothes, and it didn’t help that Jeongin and Felix liked to bring their one night stands there because now he was stuck picking up condoms with rubber gloves on.

when he finished 6pm had already rolled around so now all he waited to do was wait, so he did. He fidgeted with his fingers as he did so nervously looking around the room. Was the tv too dusty? the window too dirty? Maybe the looked disorganized.. would you even talk to him? All this thought came to an end when he heard the doorbell ring. He walked towards the door and opened it for you.

And there you were.

Standing at his doorstep Smiling innocently as you thanked him for agreeing to tutor you. It was just as he imagined. You wearing your school uniform, with that short skirt and a hint of pink lace showing through your shirt. “Thank you so much, i hope it wasn’t any trouble..” For a second he couldn’t move. You were here, in front of him, thanking him even. Snapping out of it he shuffled himself aside, letting you in. “ah.. it’s no problem..”

his eyes trailed over you.

You stepped inside, eyes scanning the small place. Surprisingly, It seemed pretty clean for a dorm shared by 4 boys. “uh—this way,” he mumbled before leading you down the short hallway to his room. Walking behind him you saw a peak of his room. Figures from multiple shows, games, and movies appeared, aswell as what seemed to be a poster from who knows where. “sorry, it’s kind of a mess.” He said while leading you inside the room, knowing it really wasn’t. He lowered himself onto a cushion sitting on the floor next to a table. He had already set the materials on the table for you, incase you might have forgotten something, he didn’t want you to leave. After briefly scanning the room you joined him on the pillow next to him.

“So, what are you struggling with?”

“Basically everything.” you said trying to bring some humor into the room. “ah.. i see..” he chuckled weakly, lowering his head to the table. “well calculus can be hard for some people, especially since the class isn’t exactly.. exciting.”

you nodded in agreement, “I know, right?” he looked up at you, eyes flicking up and then quickly away again. “w-well let’s just start with the basics then, is that alright?”

You hummed in approval, grabbing your notebook from your bag as he adjusted his posture to look more put together than he felt.

still, could see it all over him. How his face flushed and avoided contact from yours. How his pen seemed to stay touched even when he wasn’t using it. He’d clearly never had anyone else here before, and it was cute.

He cleared his voice— “Okay, so derivatives..”Youd been at the same thing for around 40 minutes and you checked out about 20 minutes ago. Math was never your forte to be fair. And when your tutor clearly cant keep his eyes off from everywhere but your face it was harder. “So what are those?” you blanked out. “Uhh.. equations?..” He blinked like his brain had been frozen.

“wait, seriously?” he asked with a mix of confusion and disbelief in his voice (maybe a little judgement too..) “We’ve been on this subject for like 40 minutes now, y/n” tone slightly raising

“Well it’s not exactly easy to pay attention when my tutor cant even look me in the eyes to teach me-“ you said teasing, but bit back on the last part before it came out to sharp. looking at jisung expecting a laugh or a sarcastic response, Instead his face went pale. You meant it as a joke, but it seemed he didn’t get the jist of it. “W-what” stammering on his words, finally locking eyes for more than a second. “i don’t-” you cut him off with a laugh “lighten up jisung it was only a joke”

He let out a breath, somewhere between relief and panic. As you leaned back on your hands, stretching just enough for your shirt to ride up slightly. You caught him looking.

“Besides,” You added, voice going softer with each word you spoke “you wouldn’t want me here all night?”

Another joke.

He was still in shock, but his gaze dropped—too quick to be casual, too obvious to ignore. You looked back at him with a smug look, and then just like that, flustered, he subtly shifted. bringing his hand over his lap, he tried to play it off.

He cleared his throat. “Not sure what you mean..”

You teased, pushing him a bit harder. “Sure you don’t.” He glared at you. “We should get back to the session.” You groaned. “How if I cant even figure out what a dergabagaba is.” leaning into your hand stubbornly, “A derivative. And maybe we could.. play a game?” you laughed. “A math game, seriously, how fun for us!”

“Don’t laugh, it was just a suggestion..” he looked away in embarrassment. So much for putting ideas out there I guess. “Fine.” you folded, “And if it doesn’t work?” “I fear you’ll have to stay here all night till i make you understand.” you let out a surprised laugh, “Guess who grew a pair”

“I didn’t mean it like that” he rolled his eyes, hand still covering his crotch.

You both decided to play some sort of Guessing game—He’d asked, you’d answered. that was the whole point of it. After about 15 questions (10 of which you actually got right) you started to really like it. For once, you weren’t just staring blankly at a worksheet before giving up and deciding to let it rot in your backpack. Things were clicking, you found yourself actually comprehending what he was teaching you (and liking it?).

He pushed his middle finger up against the bridge of his glasses. sweat trailed down his forehead as doing so. you couldn’t help but smirk.

It had gotten warmer in the room without you realizing, suddenly you could feel the heat on the back of your neck, the air feeling heavier, thicker, however it started to seem to just be from the temperature.

you both kept going with the game, determined to get the last answer right.

“Alright, last one,” He said while adjusting his collar out of warmth, “whats the derivative of 5(x) = 5x³?”

you paused for a moment, then smiled confidently. “That’s 15x².” He blinked, pleasantly surprised. “Correct.” You grinned, feeling a rush of pride. “See? i’m totally not hopeless.” He gave you a smile, clearly impressed. You leaned back, adjusting your collar and noticing how warm it had gotten in the room.

“wow, its like burning in here” fidgeting with your tie, contemplating whether or not to take it off.

“yeah, i guess so, huh.” you both looked around the room. Finally finishing the math game, both unsure what to do now, it fell silent. Seeing as you two warmed up to each other for a bit during then, you stuck a conversation.

“Hey how about we switch it up, truth or dare?” He blinked surprised, but nodded slowly. “Okay..”

you smiled softly, “Okay, truth or dare?” He gave some time to think about it before answering. “Truth..” You leaned in just a little, eyes warm but playful. You knew he was a little shy, but how could you not have a little fun with him, after all its 7pm on a Friday night and your boyfriend didn’t seem to have problems teasing around either other girls either. you let loose. “Have you ever kissed a girl before?” his cheeks flushed with warmth. “No…”

He looked up at you carefully, then asked quietly. “Uh, Truth or dare?” You nodded smiling, “Truth” he rubbed his arm to call him down. He wanted to match your energy, he really did, he was just unsure on how. He swallowed nervously before asking hoping the question wouldn’t chase you away. “What…. whats something you like about me?”

You smiled wider. “Hmm.. your nervousness. It’s kinda cute.”

he laughed softly, easing the tension a bit. “Alright, truth or dare?” He hesitated. “Dare.” You grinned, tilting your head a bit. “I dare you to kiss me on the cheek.” He stiffened once again. “Now?-”

“Well, unless you’re scared.” You shifted towards him. “So, what’ll it be?” He was stuck. He’d never imagine this. not in his wildest dreams would he had thought he’d be here with you clearly pulling yourself onto him. He just stared while the tent in his pants continued to grow, and his mind filled with crazy fantasies. Eventually he pulled your hair behind your ears and leaned in slowly, lips barely brushing your cheek, and over much too quickly. You felt the heat crawl up to your neck, yet you weren’t satisfied. Greediness had taken over and you needed to see him shut down under your touch, completely gone.

He pulled back a little, eyes glistening but nervous, then asked quietly, “Truth or dare?” Caught up in the heat of the moment you grinned. “Dare.” While holding eye contact with him, clearly wanting more out of him.

He felt conflicted. He didn’t know whether to ask you a simple question or not. Either way he knew you were gonna test him until he gave out. But it wasn’t fair—why did you get to say all those things while he basically remained a hermit crab stuck in his shell, unable to say anything outside his usual vocabulary?

starting to grow tension, he finally asked, voice higher than normal, “Okay… kiss me.” you were taken by surprised, your brows lifting slightly as your gaze dropped to his lips. Did he really say that?

A smug smile tugged at your mouth. “But i did so good during the game,” you said, voice dropping playfully, almost like a pout. “shouldn’t i get one from you?”

His face nearly turned the color of the apple on his nightstand, clearly not expecting you to flip that onto him. “I-I mean, you’ve been testing me all night..” he mumbled, barely able to look at you. “Messing with me..” You tilted your head and scooted closer to him, your thigh brushing his. “Mhm. But I think I earned it.” Your hand slid gently onto his leg, fingers barely moving, thumb brushing his inner thigh just enough to make his whole body tense up. “Don’t you?” His breath hitched. He looked down at you, eyes catching the slight pout in your lips along with the soft curve of your expression. Just enough to make his mind fog up.

“..Fine.” he breathed, voice barely holding itself together. But he didn’t move—not right away. The word hung between you guys, unsure of if he even meant to say it. Until he turned over slightly, grabbing the back of ur head. You gasped into the kiss, startled by his sudden movement. He sucked at your lips as if he wanted to inhale you altogether, he was desperate, like he’d been holding this in for years. and honestly, maybe he had. You matched him his energy, laying your arms onto his shoulder as you snuck your tongue into his mouth, making his breath stutter, his body jult, and a soft, choked up whimper escaped him. “f-fuck..” his hips started to roll against yours,

you couldn’t take it.

The way he fell apart under your touch, nearly crumbling like stone under your lips, you needed more. You needed to see him beg under you, pleading for you, crying that you’ll be a good boy for him if he let you do what you wanted to him. anything.

Then your hand drifted lower, fingers brushing against the bulge in his jeans in circular motion. This time, he didn’t flinch away,

Didn’t stop you,

Didn’t even breathe.

Your palm pressed down, grazing the length of him through the sweats, and you felt his whole body tense up. He pulled back from the kiss, panting against your mouth, eyes wide and glassy.

“You’re such a-” he started, but didn’t get the chance to finish.

Because your hand began fisting him through his pants, dragging the pressure along the shape of him until his hips twitched up into your palm. A low moan spilled from his throat, he was ashamed of how easy he fell for you.

His hands gripped your hips, fingers tightening like he needed something to hold onto before he lost it completely. And then he pulled you onto his lap, fast and a little clumsy, like if he didn’t do it now, he would’ve gone crazy

You didn’t fight it. You just sank into him, thighs straddling his, the heat between you unbearable now. The second you ground your hips into his, he gasped. “s-shit”

You rolled your hips down against him, with just enough pressure to make him jolt beneath you. His head fell back against the bed behind him, mouth parted, eyes shut and biting his bottom lip.

“F-fuck,” he breathed, barely audible.

Your hands were planted on his chest, steadying yourself as you moved faster. You could feel how hard he was. straining against the fabric, twitching every time you rolled your hips just right. His hands had slipped under your shirt now, trembling slightly, but too caught up in the moment to stop him. To stop anything. Your lips made its way to his ear. “You like that, ji?” He let out a broken moan. “Y-yeah—making me feel so good mo...-” he stopped before he could finish that sentence. his face heated up. He tried to cover it up with added groans but you knew what he wanted to say, and who were you to deny him that? so you inched closer to his face “its okay, let it out ji.”

His eyes rolled at the words. “Fuck.. y-yes mommy..”

You rocked your hips again. He bucked up into you, completely helpless with his hands gripping your waist like you were gonna run away. His breath hitched, eyes half open and glassy like he was seconds from breaking apart right under you. you pushed his limit.

“w-wait, I—”

But you didn’t. You leaned in, lips brushing against his again,

“Let it out, Ji.”

That did it.

His whole body tensed—fingers gripping to your hips so hard you were positive it would leave a mark. He gasped, choked on a moan, and stilled underneath you, eyes rolling back just the slightest bit.

“shit..—” he stuttered, hips bucking once, twice before falling still again. his face flushed deep pink as you felt the warmth spread between you. You watched him come undone in front of you. His lips trembled, fingers twitching like he didn’t know where to put them. Like he couldn’t believe what just happened, moaning your name like it was a spell. A soft laugh escaped your lips as you brushed some hair out of his face. “Already?”

He looked done, completely out of it. attempting to blink himself back into existence. “Im sorry.. I didn’t mean to—”

You kissed the corner of his mouth.

“I was just joking, ji”.

AN: Hii, thank you so much for reading my first fic on this account! I apologize it’s so disorganized, english isn’t my first language so there is probably many mistakes. Also had mad writers block during this, haha. reqs are open 24/7:)

[entitled-fangirl]

Sweet nephew.

Gwayne Hightower x wife!reader; One-sided love from Aemond

Summary: Gwayne's wife is the epitome of everything Aemond was never given as a child- a sweet voice, a caring hand, and a comforting presence. He grows a love for her, and Gwayne's pissed.

A/n: This is unlike anything I've ever written and I have mixed emotions but oh well. It's the forced smile in the Gwayne gif for me

Masterlist

............................................

"Hello, sweet nephew."

Aemond's attention immediately shifted to his aunt. 

Y/n stepped into the library, moving to Aemond's side. Her hand reached out and ran through his hair, "What are you reading?"

"Mere histories, dear aunt."

"You've always been well studied, my prince."

He leaned back to look at her. "Did mother send you?"

She let out a playful scoff, "Am I just a mere raven to you?"

"No," he quickly defended. 

"No," she smiled. "Your mother did not send me. I came to borrow a book."

He stood, "Allow me to help you."

"No need, Aemond. I can find it," she offered.

"Please, Lady Hightower. Let me do this."

She nodded, "That would be nice."

As he stood and walked around one of the many shelves. "Tell me about Old Town."

"It is without change. Your brother has been wonderful."

"And Gwayne?"

She smiled, "Gwayne has always been wonderful."

He didn't miss the light in her eyes, "And how long do you plan to stay?"

She shrugged lightly, "As long as my husband needs me here."

"The war could last years. Old Town will suffer without you two."

"He may send me home before then. My father-by-law, excuse me, your grandsire, should be there by now for Daeron."

Aemond reached up, grabbing one of the books for his aunt, handing it to her, "Hopefully so."

She took it, opening the cover to the first page, "This will do. Thank you, nephew."

"Of course."

She closed the book and held it in the crook of her arm, "I shall see you at supper then?"

Aemond hummed, "Yes."

She smiled and pushed herself to her tip-toes, kissing his forehead.

The prince watched her walk away, a curious look coming across his face.

…

"Ser Gwayne," a steady voice uttered over the courtyard.

Gwayne turned, seeing the Prince confidently moving towards him. "My prince. How many I be of assistance?"

Aemond walked up to his uncle, "I dare ask for a bit of your wisdom."

Gwayne's brow quirked up in surprise, "I see."

He watched as Aemond's eye moved to the other side of the courtyard, admiring Gwayne's wife.

There she sat on her knees, playing with her and Gwayne's young son.

A protective feeling came over the man and he was eager to get the attention away from her, "What was it you needed exactly, my prince?"

Aemond's eye slowly snapped back to Gwayne. "How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

The two men looked back to the woman.

Y/n let out a laugh as her son jumped into her arms, knocking her over. 

"You're happily married, dear uncle."

"I am."

Aemond shifted his weight to his other leg, "How?"

Gwayne's brows lifted as he considers the man's question, "My wife is a copy of the Mother. I have been truly blessed to have her at my side."

He noticed how his nephew's confusion never lifted, so he continued to speak. "I married for love, my prince. Not all men have that honor."

"No, they don't," Aemond said. "However, it was no disgrace for you to marry her."

"Never," he agreed. "She's from a noble house."

"She loves you greatly."

Gwayne nodded, "Indeed." He finally had enough, "You wish to marry for love, Prince Aemond? Is that it?"

Aemond hummed, "Something of that sort."

"Gwayne?" Her voice interrupted.

The two men turned to her as she approached them. 

Gwayne smiled and reached out to take his son in his arms, "What timing, dear wife. The prince was asking how I've gotten you all to myself." He leaned down at kissed her cheek before turning his attention to his son. "You've been good for your mother, yes?"

Their son giggled and shook his head.

Gwayne feigned shock. "No? Well, we cannot have that. Your mother is a saint." 

She held her arms out, "It's time for his studies."

Gwayne held his son close. "I'll take him myself. Perhaps you can keep the Prince company until I return, hmm?"

Her eyes flickered between the two men. "Oh. Of course. If… If that is alright with our nephew."

Both Hightowers stared at him.

Aemond tilted his head side to side before a smirk came across his face. "I believe that shall be just fine."

Gwayne reached his free hand out to his wife's chin, forcing her to look up at him. "I'll return in a matter of minutes, dear wife."

With that, he let go of her and began to walk his son into the Keep.

They watched him disappear and an awkward silence permeated the air.

"I imagine," she finally said, "that this war has been unkind to you thus far."

Aemond was a bit thrown off by her kind thought but he couldn't help the scoff under his breath, "They seem to blame me for its beginning."

Her brows came together, "Yes, I heard of what happened. I can't imagine the guilt you felt…" she paused. "Still feel, I assume."

Aemond's expression grew to confusion. "You don't seem angry."

She shrugged and looked up at him sweetly. "I know you, Aemond. You wouldn't do that. You didn't mean to."

That look in her eyes broke something in him. The tough swordsman felt an oncoming of tears pricking at his eye.

She was understanding a part of him that no one else had dared try to.

"Oh, Aemond," she cooed at the sight of his watery eye. She reached up and caressed his cheek. "Every great warrior must have emotion. That's all that differentiates them from animals. And you, Aemond Targaryen," she spoke with assurance, "Are no animal. Let your tears fall, for I hold no judgment of you."

When they indeed began to fall, she noticed the deep blush in his cheeks due to the embarrassment of crying in the courtyard. She looked around and tugged his hand, pulling him to a corner more hidden away from prying eyes.

Once there, he pulled her against him and weeped into her shoulder. It was a strange sight to see the tall stern prince weep against his small aunt.

But regardless, she held him steadfast, softly cooing and running her hands through his hair as you would a child.

He clawed at the fabric of her dress, and soon his weeping finally coming to a stop.

He sniffled at the two dared not move.

She was worried of what he would do next. Would he push her away and reclaim his harsh exterior or would he let it fade into the background?

His head lifted just barely and a tension rose. Their faces were now inches apart.

She was just now aware of the implications of their position and a worried expression crossed her face. 

She took a step back just as Aemond leaned further in to try to kiss her, resulting in the gap staying between them.

They both paused with surprised expressions. "Aemond, I'm not-"

"-Why?"

She hummed, a pattern that Aemond has picked up from her. "You're my nephew. I love you, yes, but not in that way."

His jaw set harshly. "Is that not what love is?"

"No. No, no, no. It's not always, Aemond. You're a wonderful nephew, but that is what you'll stay. I am beyond content with my husband."

His voice rose, "Then why do all of this? Why make me vulnerable? Does it make you feel powerful?" He scoffed.

Gwayne returned just then, with worse timing than ever. In all honestly, he had been standing in the courtyard for a while, witnessing with a cautious eye. He could read the silver-haired dragon rider better than most. 

But only when Aemond made a move on his wife, did Gwayne interfere, running across the yard with a fierce anger as red as his hair.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, "Dear nephew, you've kept her safe for me, I see." The smile on his face was very forced, but he was good at hiding it.

Aemond's eye looked between the two. "I did."

"Wonderful. Let us go, woman."

Gwayne practically drug her from the courtyard. 

Once through the doors, he hissed. "What happened out there?"

She was still dumbfounded by the entire situation. "I… I'm not sure. I didn't mean to, I promise you."

He rubbed his hands up and down her biceps as a sigh fell from his lips. "I know," he spoke softly. "I shouldn't be angry with you. I just… I can't stand seeing the way he was looking at you."

"The way he looked at me…?"

"It's the way I look at you. I don't want another man to ever look at you that way. I'm a jealous creature, my love."

"I am truly sorry, Gwayne. I'll fix this."

He shook his head, "You have no faults in this. Perhaps a talk with his uncle would help."

She shook her head and gripped his tunic. "No, no. That might anger him more."

Gwayne sighed again. "We'll handle it together. Yes?"

She nodded. "Yes. That's generous." She kissed his cheek. "Thank you, my love."

…

He tried to stay true to that promise until he saw his sister. 

"You must control your own son!" He sneered through his teeth as he slammed the door behind him. "I'm tired of the rest of us being trotted upon like shit in a barn!"

"Gwayne, please," Alicent sighed. He hated how calm she was, but that was always her demeanor. She held a hand to her forehead. "Whatever Aegon has done, I can fix. Just let-"

"Not that one." He wanted to tear his hair out in frustration but he knew his wife would scold him for doing so. She loved his hair so much.

A bit of relief flooded over Alicent. "Oh." That then turned to more panic, realizing that while Aegon's problems were often, foolish, and naive, Aemond's were few, calculated, and always had dire effects. 

"Your son has a love for my wife," Gwayne explained. "And I won't stand for it."

"What are you talking about?" Alicent asked in confusion.

"Aemond has taken advantage of my wife's kindness. He practically forced himself upon her in the courtyard after manipulating her into comforting him." He ran a hand through his hair. "It disgusts me."

"Gwayne, I'm sure this is a misunderstanding," she said with a forced smile. "Perhaps Y/n… led him on a bit."

His eyes almost came out of his head. For being a relatively calm man, he was growing angrier by the moment. "Do not say that again. My wife is a saint. You'll do well to remember that. If another move is made to her, you'll have no help in battle from this Hightower."

His words were final, a full threat she knew he'd hold to. Gwayne had a flair for dramatics, but threats and promises, no matter how outlandish, he stayed true to. 

"What would you have me do?" Alicent asked him. Having a queen ask for council from a knight was a rare sight.

"Just…" He cursed under his breath and placed his hands on his hips. "Maybe ask yourself why he'd do such a thing."

"What are you implying, Gwayne?"

"My wife would not raise our son to do such a thing to a woman. Makes me wonder what you've done all these years."

Gwayne was a fierce protector, often doing so for his sister. But this was his last straw, and everyone was on the metaphorical chopping block in his mind.

…

During Gwayne's talk with his dear sister, Y/n had crept up to Aemond's chambers in hopes of apologizing. 

She knocked thrice and heard nothing. 

Pushing the door firmly, she saw Aemond curled up on his bed, still in his riding gear and his hair messy against the furs.

"Nephew?"

He shot up, his eye wide in realization, though puffy from tears that no one was supposed to see. Immediately embarrassment flooded his entire soul. "Come to gloat?" His hoarse voice echoed through the room.

"Hardly. I feel awful."

"I thought you'd be like her. Better, even," he whispered, though she was sure it was meant to be kept to himself, "but you're not like her at all."

 "Who, sweet nephew?"

His eye widened once again, his entire body seemingly caving in on itself like a defense. He was running out of ways to shut her out. He said nothing.

"My mother was the most caring woman I knew," she began to explain in the silence. "She only wanted the best for her children, and she always had such a steady hand. It was so comforting." She picked at her nails, a habit she caught from one of the Hightowers. "I told myself I wanted to be just like her. Forgive me if my efforts to be comforting came across in a misleading fashion."

"Is that not what a wife does for her husband, though?" His vulnerable voice asked.

"Well, yes. But it's different," she explained. "I treat my husband and my son very differently."

"How?"

"Uh," she was unprepared to answer this question. "I'm responsible for teaching my son the right ways to live. To have him grow to be a great Hightower. But Gwayne is a man grown. I can't teach him things that he already knows. Nor should I have to."

"But you don't tell your son what to do," he pointed out.

"No," she said as if ridiculous. "He should get to explore the world and find things for himself. I only help him when he needs it."

"Mother has never done that."

Y/n's face paled. Suddenly everything was clicking into place.

"Aemond, your mother is surrounded by Targaryens with great dragons as a queen with no power. It's a scary thought for her. She doesn't know how to help you."

"But she does not try!" He exclaimed in frustration. 

She let out a breath. "Perhaps so. But she does love you. In her own strange way." She brushes over his cheek. "You are a strong man yet, Aemond. And you'll have a wife soon enough."

"Just not you," he manages through a teary eye.

"No," she gives a small smile. "Not me."

He takes her hand from his cheek, giving a kiss to her knuckles. He took his time, truly savoring the soft skin of his dearest aunt. "May you and my uncle live full lives, by the will of the Seven."

…

She moved from the room, shutting the door behind her. She stepped down the corridor, almost running into her husband.

Gwayne grabbed her waist. "I've decided to speak to the prince."

Her hands rested on his chest. "There's no need. It has been handled."

"Handled?" He questioned. "How so?"

She shrugged lightly. "He... apologized."

Gwayne's brow furrowed. "Did he? That's… kind."

"Like a true gentleman," she added. No one really needed to know of his tears. "Where's our boy?" 

"Should be done with his studies soon. We still have time though."

"Time for what?"

He tipped her head up to look at him. "I fear I don't admire my wife as much as I should."

"You know you do."

"No," he bent down and kissed her. "If I worshipped you every day, it still would not be enough. You're sought after by many in the Realm, it seems." He brushed her hair behind her ear. "But me, most of all."

"And you have me."

"Aye. That I do."

……………………………………………

[fireinmoonshot]

keep your secrets | robert reynolds x reader

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x Reader Summary: Bob is in love with you. He just doesn't know it yet. Warnings: Mention of drugs in Bob's past. Word Count: 1.1k A/N: I haven't written for Bob in about a week, I think, and I just randomly sat down tonight and wrote this. I think it actually turned out very sweet, so I'm just posting it as is. Only proof read once, so I hope it's all right. I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you for all the love on my Bob fics so far. It means a lot! 💗

Bob is in love, but he doesn’t realise it yet. He’s pretty certain that the feelings he’s feeling are normal. He’s felt all of them before at various points in his life – happiness, sadness, joy, affection and many others, most of which he can’t even name unless he thinks hard. 

He’s watching you from across the room, trying not to come across as creepy, though being entirely aware that if you spotted him now, leaning against the wall in the corner, you would likely turn around and walk the other way. He wouldn’t blame you. It’s just hard for him to take his eyes off of you when every time you laugh at something your friend says, your entire face lights up and fills him with so much joy that he starts smiling too.

He knows that you’d find that strange, too.

Because friends don’t look at friends the way Bob looks at you. 

He’s not even sure that he can call the two of you friends – more like acquaintances, really.  He’d met you through Mel, Valentina’s assistant. You and Mel were close, meaning you spent a lot of time around Bob, and he around you. It made it easy for him to start to fall for you.

Especially when he’d catch onto the small things that you do. The way you tuck your hair behind your ear, the way your nose scrunches when you’re frustrated, the way you tap your fingers on your trousers when you’re trying to focus on something. The small things that he’s certain no one else but him has noticed about you, because he notices everything about you. 

The fact that he has barely spoken to you doesn’t bother him. People have created friendships and started relationships off less. He’s done the same in the past, on those drug-fuelled benders that he really can’t remember, but he still knows about even without the memories. If Bob did speak to you more, though, he knows he’d admire you even more. 

In the few small conversations you’ve had, he’s barely managed to keep his admiration for you below the surface. He can be confident when he wants to be, and around you he does want to be. He wants to be the kind of man you can rely on, someone you can trust with everything. Even if he’s not sure he’s the kind of man that even he can rely on himself. He’d never come clean to you about that, though. 

No, Bob can have his secrets. 

He’s so caught up thinking about those secrets that he doesn’t realise when you notice him across the room, watching you. You can see from the glazed over look in his eyes that he’s not really watching you though. He’s deep in thought about something.

You excuse yourself from your conversation with your friend and meander across the room towards him, your suspicions being confirmed as you get closer and Bob continues staring at the place you had been standing by the pool table. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” You ask, finally reaching his side.

Bob blinks, knocked out of his thoughts by your voice, and realises that you’re no longer where he’s staring. He blinks again, trying to clear his head, and when he opens his eyes, they fall on you, standing in front of him, a small smile on your lips.

“Sorry, what?” He murmurs, running a hand over his face to shake himself out of the trance he’d been in before you interrupted him. He’d been thinking about you, and here you were. Almost as if he’d summoned you.

“I asked what you were thinking,” you repeat, leaning up against the wall and crossing your arms over your chest. “You were staring pretty intently. Must be something on your mind.”

Bob looks at you again, taking in your words, and nods slowly. His confidence slowly sinks away the longer he stays silent. “You were watching me?” is all he can come up with.

You laugh softly, one of the laughs that manages to bring a small smile to Bob’s own face. “I should as you the same question,” you hum. “I thought you were watching me when I first saw you, until I saw that look in your eye that made me realise you were just staring into space, and that I just happened to be in the way.”

He shakes his head, instantly wanting to prove you wrong. You weren’t in the way of him staring into space – you were the whole galaxy, there in front of his eyes. You were the stars and the planets and the damn milky way. Staring at the actual night sky wouldn’t even come close to how it feels to look at you. 

But they’re all words he can’t say.

He clears his throat. “No, I… uh, I was just thinking.”

“Hence the reason why I asked what you were thinking, Reynolds.”

Bob is certain that if he could disappear right now, he would.

He lets out a sheepish laugh and nods. “Yeah, right… uh… y’know, it was nothing.”

You watch him carefully, trying to read his face and failing miserably. Bob gives away nothing except the soft and kind nature that you’ve grown used to while spending time around him. Even though you’re certain he’d been thinking about something serious when you’d caught him zoning out, there’s no way to prove it, especially if he’s not willing to admit it to you – and why would he? Who are you to him other than a friend of a friend?

“Okay,” you nod, giving him a tight-lipped smile and taking a step back. “You can keep your secrets for tonight, Robert. I’ll try and pry them out of you some other night.”

“Bob,” he cuts in, the word out of his mouth before he can stop himself. “Call me Bob.”

You raise your eyebrows, a little surprised by the confidence in his tone. It’s the most bold you’ve seen him since you met him. Its not a please call me Bob or a I’d like to be called Bob. It’s a command. Your lips twitch up a little at the realisation.

“Okay, Bob,” you reply. “You enjoy the rest of your night, yeah? I’ll see you around.”

Bob watches as you walk away, heading back over to the friend you’d been with before, and desperately tries to calm down his heart, which feels as though it’s about to beat out of his chest. He can still hear you saying his name, like a constant ringing in his ears that’s pleasant rather than irritating.

You can keep your secrets for tonight, you’d said. Bob is certain that the next time you ask him to share his secrets with you, he’s going to tell you every last one of them without even really meaning to. He smiles at the thought. It doesn’t bother him as much as he’d expected.

[lokileaf]

Hi! Do you write requests? If so, I just need like a lokixreader fic where they’re having an arranged marriage but they don’t know that they’re soulmates. For context, soulmates in this universe have half a quote written somewhere on them that is important to their relationship. Bonus points if it’s enemies to lovers, with the reader also being witty and having the ability to keep Loki on his toes.

Yes, I love requests! Thank you for submitting! 💚

Tradition

Loki x f!Reader

It was a silly tradition. Nonsensical, honestly. The idea that the Norns could shape his destiny was ridiculous. Fate was a thing for mortals to find comfort in or blame for their bad fortune.

Not determine who he was permitted to marry.

Even prior to the script making its appearance on his skin, he had come to a decision. He would not share it with anyone. His mother and father would never know. After all, it was not unheard of for the tattoos to fail to appear for certain individuals. Surely no one would question his particular lack of writing.

Unfortunately, no amount of planning or plotting could prevent his heart from sinking as the sentence looped its way across the pale skin of his collarbone on that fateful day.

…but it was love eventually.

Loki did his best to prevent himself from attempting to derive any meaning from the unfinished quote. After all, he had already decided it was meaningless. What use was speculation when he had already made up his mind?

A celebration was customary upon the appearance of one’s soul mark. Your parents were elated when yours materialized, inking itself across your ribcage.

It wasn’t love at first sight…

Your heart soared at the potential the incomplete sentence held.

As high-ranking members of the Allfather’s court, it was thrilling news. Lords and ladies made their appearances at the ball put on in your honor, taking the opportunity to consult your parents accordingly. The event buzzed with nobles hoping their son or daughter would be the fortunate individual to complete your soul mark, thus securing an advantageous betrothal.

However, no such arrangement presented itself. As time went on, you began to resent the script. Your continued lack of apparent soulmate became the talk of the court, a stain upon your marriage prospects.

And oh how Loki loved to remind you of this particular shortcoming.

It began with snide comments at your soul mark celebration. Having been raised with one another, you were quite used to his sharp tongue and merciless teasing. You brushed him off at first, sure that your soul mate would would make themselves known before the evening’s end.

By the time your guests had begun to filter their way out of your family’s manor, tears were pricking your eyes with their sharp sting. Loki’s words were needling their way under your skin, taking up residence in the back of your mind.

You sat with your back against the wall of an abandoned hallway, the light dimming as tears forced their way through your closed lids. Your legs were folded up against your chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, head bowed to prevent any potential passersby from seeing your now puffy face.

You had finally run out of tears when you heard footsteps making their way down the hall. You jumped, hastily wiping your face as you stumbled up to your feet, your mind scrambling to find an adequate excuse for your distraught state. You had barely situated yourself upright before realizing the footsteps belonged to the younger prince.

“Ah, it’s only you,” you huffed, straightening the rumpled fabric of your formal attire.

“You would do well to address your prince appropriately,” Loki replied pompously, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked you up and down.

“My prince would do well to not stick his royal nose where it does not belong,” you shot back, clearly not in the mood for his attitude.

You caught a glimpse of a smirk making its way across his lips as you self-consciously attempted to smooth your hair back down.

“A bit sensitive this evening, are we? Disappointed with that frivolous little tradition, perhaps?”

You ignored the barb and began to make your way back to the great hall, your solitude thoroughly ruined by the God of Mischief. Your agitation only grew as he followed closely behind, clearly having chosen you as his evening entertainment.

“Surely you can’t be shocked,” he stated plainly, as if it were obvious.

You paused mid stride, turning to face him. Your emotions had already been chaffed raw, leaving you with little patience for mincing words.

“And what exactly do you mean by that, Your Highness,” you snapped. You hated to give in to his ruse but you were in no mood for his backhanded comments at the moment.

“Well, my lady,” he started, “one should not be so surprised that an individual as foolhardy as yourself would not be granted a soulmate of noble standing.”

Your face began to heat with indignation, a flourish of nasty insults rising to your tongue. You glared at him, forcing yourself to retain a semblance of self control.

Despite his endless capacity to annoy you, he really was unfairly handsome. His sharp cheekbones, angular jawline, his pale skin contrasting with his raven hair. And not to mention his substantial height and devastatingly blue eyes.

It was truly unfortunate that he maintained an insatiable need to ruin it all with his loud mouth.

“I supposed one should also not be surprised to learn that an individual as ill-mannered as yourself would have no soulmate at all”, you finally shot back before storming off to your chambers.

He watched you go, rooted to the spot by your quick jab. He would have been impressed had the retort not stung him so unexpectedly. He felt his brow furrow as your fleeing form rounded a corner, disappearing from view.

Is that how his people viewed his alleged lack of a soul mark? As a direct result of his prickly personality? A personal failing?

He supposed he should not have been as offended by this notion as he was. After all, had he not just insinuated the same toward you?

Best not to think about it, he determined.

This mutual irritation continued on throughout your… relationship. If one could even call it that. The years continued to pass and your soulmate had failed to manifest themselves. Additionally, Loki’s soul mark had continued in its failure to appear.

Or so he had you believe.

With Thor earning himself a full fledged banishment from Asgard, the throne found itself with one heir remaining.

One heir with no marriage prospects.

Amidst swirling rumors, the Allfather had summoned your family to the palace to discuss “a matter of utmost importance”, though your father had neglected to inform you of exactly what this meeting entailed.

You waited silently just outside of the throne room, wishing you could be anywhere else. You truly adored the king and queen, but Loki had taken to roaming the palace more freely in his brother’s absence, leaving you subject to his comings and goings.

You jumped as his green and gold clad figure appeared next to you, seemingly out of nowhere, a smirk on his lips.

“Do you ever tire of your juvenile magic tricks?” you snapped at him, your irritation evident. He placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt.

“As I recall, my lady, you quite enjoyed my magic tricks in our youth.”

You ignored his comment, instead focusing on your attempt to eavesdrop on your parents and the Allfather and -mother. Loki watched in silence as you pressed your ear to the throne room door, your face screwed up in concentration.

He threaded a hand behind your head, cupping it with his palm before you flinched away from the contact, a bewildered expression on your face.

“Relax, my lady, I am only trying to assist you,” he muttered.

He reached his hand out once more, waiting for you grant him permission to touch you. You nodded slowly, allowing him to lace his fingers through the back of your hair, cupping your jaw. He pressed his other hand to the door, using his seiðir to amplify the conversation and direct it straight into your mind. The two of you waited in concentrated silence, anxious to hear what was being discussed.

“-believe this arrangement would be advantageous to both our families. Our children are of marrying age, after all, and the throne requires an heir be betrothed.”

“We quite agree, Your Majesty. I speak for our entire family when I say that we would be delighted to have our daughter betrothed to Prince Loki.

You could no longer hear the exchange over the pounding of your heart in your ears. You stumbled away from the door in shock. Loki released you from his grasp, his eyes wide and staring at the door in front of him. You took a moment to compose yourself before turning on your heel to face him, rage boiling in your blood.

“If this is one of your tricks, Odinson, it is not amusing,” you snapped at him accusingly.

“I assure you, my lady, this development is completely free of my influence.”

Hearing footsteps approaching, Loki darted toward you, swiftly taking you in his arms and spinning you around so your back was pressed against his chest. You thrashed against his hold, your agitation having reached its peak.

“Be still. Someone is coming,” he whispered hurriedly, his lips brushing ever so slightly against the shell of your ear as he pressed himself back against the palace wall. His arms held you firmly in place against him and you looked down to see that your bodies had completely disappeared.

“What is this?” you asked accusingly, voice just above a whisper. An invisible hand shot up to clamp over your mouth, irritating you further. You felt Loki duck his head down to whisper in your ear once more.

“I am preventing us from being discovered in a rather compromising position. And you’re quite loud,” he replied.

Despite your annoyance with the prince, a warmth settled low in your abdomen as his breath caressed the skin behind your ear. Before you could give much thought to your body’s reaction, the throne room door opened, revealing each of your parents.

You felt Loki’s arms tighten around you, pressing you further into him as the Allfather came dangerously close to brushing against your hidden form.

“I supposed we should inform our children of the arrangement?” Frigga proposed to the group, placing a hand on her husband’s arm.

“Indeed… over a feast, perhaps?” Odin suggested, leading the group down the palace hall and away from your current position.

You didn’t bother listening for your parents’ reply, ripping yourself from Loki’s grasp before storming off toward the guest chambers.

“My lady, wait…” Loki started, following closely behind.

You burst through your chamber doors rather unceremoniously, throwing yourself onto the settee at the foot of your temporary bed. You covered your face with your hands, frustrated tears forcing their way out.

“You know, you could have procured a significantly worse betrothal,” Loki stated, breaking the tension.

“Not now, Loki…” you sighed, sounded defeated.

He let the silence continue for a few moments, unsure of how to balance his desire to comfort you and his own shock at the impending betrothal. He quietly lowered himself next to you on the settee, placing a slightly awkward hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him, slightly confused by the uncharacteristic gesture.

“Surely being my bride-to-be is not as devastating as you believe,” he teased gently, his eyes softening as they met yours. You couldn’t help the slight smile that broke across your lips.

“As aggravating as you are, my prince, it’s not that. I simply feel… like a failure, I suppose,”

“Do tell.”

You hesitated ever so slightly, unsure if bearing your soul to the trickster would end well for you.

“My soul mark was supposed to determine who I am to marry. And I cannot find them. I suppose I did not realize how right you were that night when you said I shouldn’t be surprised someone like me would not find their soulmate.”

His chest ached at the sentiment, regret stinging like a blow. He hadn’t thought about your little exchange since that night, didn’t think you would have remembered. Despite the enjoyment he derived from teasing and baiting you, he had never intended to cause you any actual harm.

“I suppose I should consider myself lucky, then,” he said quietly.

There was not much in the Nine Realms that could make his heart race, but this rare moment of vulnerability was enough to send his pulse pounding in his ears.

You looked up at him, clearly confused by the earnest tone in his voice.

“If I am to inherit the throne, I will require a wife. And I suppose you will do,” he deadpanned. You couldn’t help the laugh that burst from your chest, your previous distress completely forgotten.

To his utter confusion, Loki couldn't help but feel his heart soar at the sound of your laughter echoing through the guest chambers.

“I suppose I could do a lot worse for myself than a prince,” you conceded, looking down at your hands folded in your lap. “I just can’t help but feel like I’ve disappointed my parents.”

He nearly laughed aloud at the statement. From his perspective, there was no bigger disappointment than himself.

I could tell her, he thought to himself.

Surely there was no use hiding his soul mark any longer. If you were to be wed, you would discover the truth eventually.

“If that were true, my lady, you would be in good company,” he said quietly, heart beginning to race at the prospect of revealing his long kept secret. Your brow furrowed as you looked up at him in confusion.

“How do you figure?”

A moment of hesitation before his fingers made their way to the collar of his tunic, tentatively pulling the deep green fabric away from his collarbone to expose the thin lettering looping across his pale skin.

The deafening silence rang in his ears as he waited for you to react in some capacity, unsure of what you would say. After a few heartbeats had passed, you cautiously raised your hand to run your fingers over his skin.

…but it was love eventually.

“I thought you didn’t receive a soul mark,” you mumbled, transfixed by the ink.

He sighed softly, unsure if you would understand his quandary with the idea of fated mates.

“I merely… kept the occurrence private. Too many fawning suitors… you understand,” he replied sheepishly, fighting the blush that was making its way across his cheeks. An exasperated laugh escaped your lips, Loki’s revelation easing your prior distress.

“I see… I supposed we are more alike than I thought, my prince,” you sighed, looking down at your hands clasped in your lap.

A moment of silence passed before he gently took your hands in his, your eyes snapping up to meet his blue ones. You felt your heart begin to race at the contact, surprising yourself with the reaction.

"My lady..." he trailed off, letting hesitation get the better of him for a moment. His gaze dropped to your lips for a fraction of a second.

"Yes, Loki?"

"Tell me to stop," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper as he began to close the gap between your lips.

"And if I don't want you to?" you muttered breathlessly.

A mischievous smirk flashes across his face before his lips claimed yours, your eyes closing as you surrendered control over to him. His hands slid up your body to cup your face, pulling you closer as he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently. You gasped slightly into his mouth, your stomach erupting with butterflies.

What are we doing? you thought silently to yourself. Can a lifetime of annoyance and irritation be erased by a single intimate moment?

You trailed a hand up his chest and around the back of his neck, sliding your fingers into his hair. You tighten your grip on his raven curls, eliciting a slight groan from the god. Liquid heat began to pool at your center.

Yes it can, you decided.

Loki's tongue trailed the length of your bottom lip in a silent question, his hands dropping to your hips. You granted him access, fighting back a moan as he effortlessly shifted your body onto his lap. Straddling his hips, you pressed your chest against his as his lips made their way across your jaw and down your neck.

His hands found the laces of your corset and he pulled away slightly, looking up at you for permission. You nodded eagerly, catching his lips in another kiss as he skillfully unlaced the constricting garment before pulling it over your head along with your gown.

You became acutely aware of Loki's state of overdress, his tunic remaining in place while you were left in only your thin cotton shift. Without saying a word, you began working on the buttons on the emerald green fabric, exposing his pale chest.

His hands slowly slid up your thighs, pushing the fabric of your shift up dangerously high before settling on your hips. You pushed his tunic back over his shoulders, leaving him shirtless before you. You paused, taking a moment to appreciate his bare upper body. Your eyes made their way down from his collarbones to his stomach, admiring the lean muscle and V-lines leading lower and lower.

He broke you out of your reverie by grabbing the bottom of your shift, pulling it over your head. You let him do so, too lost in the feeling of his body under yours to care about being exposed to him.

You made to lean back down to kiss him when you noticed that his gaze was glued to the spot on your ribcage where you knew your soul mark was located. A shiver raced down your spine as Loki gently traced over it with his fingertips.

"It wasn't love at first sight..." he read aloud, his dark brow furrowed.

"...but it was love eventually," you finished for him, eyes wide in realization. He stared up at you silently, clearly unsure of how to proceed.

"Does the god of mischief have nothing to say?" you asked quietly, attempting to break the tension and settle your nerves.

"Well, my lady, it's not every day that a god finds his soulmate," he replied before pulling your face down to kiss him. He hooked his hands under your thighs, wrapping your legs around his hips and he stands and walks you over to the guest bed.

You smiled into his mouth as he gently lowered you onto the plush duvet. You slid your hands down his torso to his belt, clumsily undoing the buckle before starting on the button of his pants. He chuckled in your kiss and slid out of the remainder of his clothing, pressing himself against your body.

A moan escaped you at the feeling of his hot erection pressing against your inner thigh. You arched your back, pressing your bare chest into his and relishing in the friction of his skin against yours.

Loki trailed his lips down your chest, taking a hardened nipple into his mouth. You involuntarily ground yourself against him as his tongue made slow circles around the sensitive skin, soft sighs leaving your lips.

"Loki," you whined desperately, rubbing your wet heat against his thigh.

"I'm here, darling," he mumbled against your skin, "tell me what you need."

"I need you."

"Where do you need me?"

He smiled up at you as he lowered himself between your thighs, his breath on your heat making you clench around nothing. You slipped a hand to the back of his head, trying to push his mouth down to grant you the relief you needed.

"Ah ah, darling. Say it for me."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, slightly irritated with the prince.

"I need you to make me cum, Loki," you admitted, lifting your hips slightly off the mattress in an attempt to make contact. He firmly pressed you back down, a smug look on his gorgeous face.

"Patience, my love," he mumbled, pressing hot, openmouthed kisses to your thighs. He continued his ministrations until he reached your soaked center. Your jaw fell open as his tongue licked a fat stripe over your clit, spreading your wetness across the sensitive apex.

"Oh fuck..." you gasped, your hands shooting down to the back of his head and threading your fingers through his hair. His wrapped around your thighs, pulling you closer as his tongue teased your entrance. Letting go of your left thigh, he trailed his hand down to where his mouth met your body, sliding two fingers through your folds.

His tongue made tight circles over your clit as he slipped his digits inside, giving you a few seconds to adjust before slowly pumping them in and out. You gripped the sheets, clenching your thighs around his head as the pressure in your abdomen began to build.

"Loki!" you keened, back arching once again.

He groaned into your cunt, too lost in the pleasure he was giving you to provide a real reply. The vibrations of his voice on your core sent you over the edge, undulating your hips into his face. He continued to make quick, punishing circles on your clit, helping you ride it out as your core clenched around his fingers.

You panted, letting your thighs fall limp to either side of Loki's head. He stood, taking his place on top of you. He gently brushed your hair from your eyes before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, the taste of your own slick invading your mouth.

Before the kiss could develop into anything more, a knock at the door startled both of you.

"Darling?" your mother's muffled voice came through the locked door.

Your heart lurched, panic quickly setting in. Loki jumped up from the bed, scrambling to dress himself.

"Yes?" you shouted back, scooping your discarded shift off the floor and hastily throwing it on. You grabbed your dressing robe from a hook near the vanity and swiftly wrapped it around you, tying the knot as glanced over your shoulder to tell Loki to hide in your bathroom but was nowhere in sight.

He had completely vanished.

Your mother knocked on your door, pulling you from your thoughts. Undoing the lock, you opened it to see both of your parents standing excitedly in the hallway.

"Yes, what is it?" you asked, trying to smooth your sex-mussed hair down.

"We have a family matter to discuss and we wanted to- dear, are you alright? You look flushed," your mother interrupted herself, pressing the back of a hand to your forehead. You gently brushed her off, fighting the blush rising to your cheeks.

"Yes, I'm fine!" you replied a tad too eagerly. "What is it, what's the matter?"

Your parents shared a suspicious look before your father spoke.

"We have something to discuss. Family meeting in our chambers in fifteen minutes?" he asked plainly.

“Yes, just give me a moment to ah… freshen myself up,” you stuttered. Your mother smiled at you before turning to leave, your father following suit. You closed your door quietly, letting yourself fall back against it and pressing a hand to your face in embarrassment.

You gathered your composer and began making your way to the vanity to assess the state of your hair. As you turned, Loki’s towering figure appeared directly in front of you, causing you to yelp in fear. You lightly slapped his chest as he placed his hands on your hips

“Don’t do that!” you scolded him before allowing him to draw you into a kiss.

“You know you always enjoyed my little tricks, darling,” he replied, leading you back to the bed.

[ratatoastwrites]

Victoria’s secret

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

nsfw, 18+ MDNI

a/n: munch spencer, we all say in unison 😫 i wrote this cuz i was bored at the mall lol, does that count as public indecency? haha jk, but that is lowkey what this blurb is about ✨😮‍💨 also special challenge, take a shot every time i use the word lace lol

cw: oral (f receiving), tiny bit of fingering, bit of rough kissing yum, lingerie (obvi), umm kinda public indecency tbh lol, borderline exhibitionism ig but it isn’t really mentioned just subtext ig, uhhh what else, oh yea friends to lovers kinda (or fwb if u fancy, it is kinda vague), no written aftercare cuz again i just couldn’t be bothered, also this is an unedited & no beta & english is my second language mess as per usual mwah 🧚‍♀️

also also special shout out to @apple-pie-and-impala for never getting annoyed with me about the way that 90% of our text msgs revolve around this man 🤭 love ya, my little enabler 🫶

When you first asked Spencer to go lingerie shopping with you, he didn’t think much of it

He honestly believed that it was just going to be a normal hangout between two friends, because really, there wasn’t anything inherently sexual about the prospect of an adult person wearing underwear

Well, that thought lasted until about five seconds after he stepped into the store with you

It was hard not to let his thoughts wander as he watched you running your fingers across the lace fabric of a matching lilac set, his breath catching in his throat as he imagined you actually wearing it

He watched you pick out a few sets, his heart hammering in his chest as his head filled with more and more sinful thoughts

So when you coyly asked him if he wanted to accompany you to the back (your excuse being that you didn’t want to get bored all alone back there), he didn’t even hesitate before nodding vigorously

As he sat in one of the chairs just outside the fitting room you were in, he contemplated that this might be his purgatory

He could hear the rustling of your clothes, and he knew that you were wearing those torturous sets of lace, and yet he couldn’t do anything about it, forced to sit tight and listen to your chatter through the curtain, trying to will away the painful hardness in his pants

“Spence, could you come in here for a second? The straps are a little loose, and I can’t quite reach the clips.”

He froze for a moment at your seemingly innocent request, before standing up on shaky legs and pulling the curtain to the side just enough for him to slip inside the small, closed space next to you

When he finally turned to look at you, he almost collapsed on the spot

You were wearing a white set with intricate lacing that left hardly anything to the imagination, your hands cupping your breasts to keep the bralette from slipping down, the straps hanging loosely over your shoulders

As soon as your eyes locked together, the air seemed to crackle between you, and he wasted no time pushing you against the nearest wall and kissing you like his life depended on it

He was a needy mess in just a few seconds as his hands glided across your skin, mapping every inch of your body that he could reach, while he familiarised himself with your taste

Your hands pulled on his hair as he sunk to his knees in front of you, and you had to bite down on your bottom lip as you watched him pull the dainty panties you were wearing to the side, his puppy eyed gaze making you weak in the knees

You gasped as you felt him press a tentative kiss on your clit, having to slap a hand over your mouth as he immediately followed it up by lapping at your wet folds enthusiastically

He had you shaking in a matter of minutes, eating you out like your pussy was his ambrosia and he had been starving for years

You had to balance yourself on the wall as he put one of your legs over his shoulder, his tongue exploring your insides, the new angle making his nose nudge against your clit with every move

He replaced his tongue with two of his fingers, his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking on it like it was his favourite dessert in the world

You gripped his hair tightly as you came with a loud gasp of his name, rutting against his face, the vibrations of his whimpers making your eyes roll back in immense pleasure

His tongue worked you through it all, licking up your juices languidly, until you had to push his head away when your eyes started tearing up from overstimulation

It was safe to say that you ended up buying that set, walking out of the store hand in hand with Spencer, before leaving the mall to go back to his place, eager to return the favour

[kusanagi-haruno]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ NIGHTS LIKE THIS !

ఌ sum: Ever since Gojo saw you, he’s been nothing but love struck. And as time passes, you find yourself feeling the same.

wc: 3.2K

Warnings: Fem!reader, Gojo is basically obsessed with you, Uni AU, Modern AU, Eventual smut, Porn w plot, Making out, Oral (F receiving), P in V sex, Light choking, Praising, Pet names: Pretty girl, beautiful, sweet girl.

a/n: originally this was written for my friend with a different character, but I decided to change it to gojo so I can post it here for you lovelies :)!!!!

Lovestruck Gojo! who forgot how to breathe when he first saw you enter the lecture the first day. His eyes raked over your form, taking in every detail from when you first entered through the door to when you sat down. He bit the inside of his cheek when he saw you sit a few rows in front of him. He ignored the stinging pain that followed after biting the wall of his mouth, too entranced by you to even care.

Lovestruck Gojo! who grew more frustrated as the weeks passed. He cursed his inability to go up to you and just talk. The way your lips seemed to shine every time he looked at them, how the outsides of your eyes creased when you smiled just made him so nervous.

Lovestruck Gojo! who swears his prayers finally have been answered when you two were paired up for a project. He sat up a little bit straighter when the professor announced your name next to his. He swore the sun shined a little bit brighter that day.

Lovestruck Gojo! who’s heart raced when he noticed you make your way towards him at the end of the lecture. He pretended not to notice you, which was hard because he knows he’s noticed just about everything you had to offer. His heart raced when he heard your voice speak to him, in his head was a million thoughts scrambling through his mind.

Lovestruck Gojo! who’s voice cracked when he spoke his first words to you. “I’m sorry?” He questioned when he realized he didn’t respond to you. “Want to exchange contacts? It’ll be easier to keep in touch this way,” he heard you ask. It felt like his breath got caught in his throat, the softness, the perfection of your voice paralyzed him. He knew he had to answer this time, he had to make a good first impression.

Lovestruck Gojo! who hurriedly agreed to give you his number. After that brief conversation, he watched you walk away. He swore his heart would jump out of his chest any moment now, however he wouldn’t even be mad, not when the reason his heart was beating was because of you.

Lovestruck Gojo! who swears he’s on cloud nine. Ever since the both of you have been partnered up for that project, the both of you have slowly gotten closer and closer. Everyday he would wake up with one thought in his mind, you. When he got ready for your guys’ daily meet up to slowly progress on the project, he made sure to look his very best. He always double checked to see if his hair was laid correctly, that his teeth looked white as ever, and that his clothes smelled perfect.

Lovestruck Gojo! who silently congratulated himself every time he made you laugh. Sometimes you would catch him staring, but you found yourself not being bothered by it one bit. You couldn’t deny that you undoubtedly caught feelings for the man in front of you during the time you guys spent together. You found yourself blushing everytime he remembered your coffee order, even more so when he paid for it everytime.

Lovestruck Gojo! who felt like his world was destroyed when the project came to an end. He should’ve felt any form of happiness, but he couldn’t. Not when he had no excuse to see you anymore. When he rolled over in his bed, he felt like sinking into it just to never come out again.

Lovestruck Gojo! who groaned when he heard his phone buzz signaling he got a notification. He silently debated on ignoring it, almost positive it was a random notification from a random app. Although he twisted and turned, soon facing his phone on the nightstand beside him with a small hope that maybe, maybe, you texted him.

Lovestruck Gojo! whose heart went from 0 to 100 the moment he saw it was you who texted him. He immediately opened the notification and read your text, he smiled so hard that it hurt. “Party tn, wanna come? We can let loose a little as a little celebration for finishing that stupid project :).”

Lovestruck Gojo! who never got ready so fast in his life before. He made sure to reply to your text before doing so, he’d rather die than have you think he purposefully ignored you.

Lovestruck Gojo! who had no idea just how fast your heart was beating. Your friends pressured you into texting him, knowing just how much you liked him. You didn’t know whether to curse them out or hug them, but the thought diminished as soon as you saw he replied to you, agreeing to come.

Lovestruck Gojo! who felt the same as he first did the very first second he saw you when he saw you tonight, in front of him. He clenched his fists when he took note just how many other men were in the same building as you, almost hard enough to draw blood. All negative feelings vanished when he locked eyes with you, and instead new ones blossomed. He took note how you styled your hair, and wore a little more makeup than usual. His eyebrows furrowed when he thought that you wanted to look good for somebody else.

Lovestruck Gojo! who slowly lost himself in your eyes. The both of you agreed to dance with each other, mirroring each other's smiles. He lost track of time, not that he cared though. The only thing he cared about was the feeling of your arms around his neck, your eyes looking right at him and fuck the glossiness of your lips. Everything about you was perfect, and he wanted to kill every man who looked at you tonight.

Lovestruck Gojo! whose body felt like it was on fire right now. He doesn’t know who leaned first, but he couldn’t give a fuck about that. Not when the feeling over your soft, plushy lips against his sent his mind, body, and soul to heaven and back. He could only focus on the small, shaky breaths that escaped your lips when he sucked particularly hard, and fuck he loved it more than he should. What’s new though, he always loved you way more than the normal amount.

Lovestruck Gojo! who almost whined when you finally broke the kiss, but what you said after instantly made up for it. “Wanna get out of here?” He didn’t know how a person could be so fucking adorable, but you break his expectations everyday.

His silently nodded, little pants escape his lips as you take his hand and lead him out of the party.

As soon as the two of you barely make it to your dorm, you’re pushed up against the door. You let out a gasp when your head meets the firmness of your dorm door, but quickly the pain turns into pleasure when he takes the opportunity of your opened mouth to slide his tongue into your mouth.

You feel his hands touch every part of your body, trying to memorize every part of you. You hear him chuckle against your lips when you let out soft whines when he touches a particularly sensitive spot, and fuck did that make you wet.

“Such a fucking pretty girl,” he mumbles into your mouth. You let out a whine at the praise, your hands resting against his firm chest. His hands rest on your hips, squeezing them whenever he finds himself feeling too much of everything.

He often found himself denying that you were real, but you were here, under his touch, kissing him. Him, of all people. If he told his past self that he’d up like this with you, his past self would laugh, or faint, either or.

You find yourself slowly backing up until you hit your bed with him looming over you. The both of you take a second to just look at each other, a million things spoken with just one look. Both of your eyes gazing at each other full of lust and love before leaning back into each other with more passion than before.

“G-Gojo..fuck,” you moan out as you arch your back. The man on top of you started to slowly roll his hips against yours, the feeling making pleasure flow through the entirety of your body, no area left untouched. “I- ah..I know baby I know”, he coos, feeling the same if not more.

You feel his big hands tug at your shirt, a silent demand to take it off, and you do with no hesitation. Gojo is awestruck, absolutely entranced with how beautiful you look. Every part of you is absolutely perfect, fuck he feels like the luckiest man alive right now.

He detaches his lips from yours, a small string of spit hangs between the both of you. His hands move from the side of your face to your chest, then slowly down to your hips before resting on the side of your stomach. He leaves soft kisses against different areas of your stomach as his hands roam your torso, silently worshiping your body.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful,” he praises, his thumbs stroking the sides of your torso. You let out soft airy breaths in response to his delicate touches, each kiss igniting a small flame in the same area he kissed you.

When he finally makes your way down to your waist, he looks up at you, silently asking for permission. You give him a slight nod and lift your hips to help him remove your pants. Once Gojo throws your bottoms on the floor somewhere you start to get flustered. Almost your whole body is exposed while he’s still fully dressed. Guess you’re going to have to change that.

You softly call out his name, to which he answers with a small hum. His face is near your clothed pussy, so when he hummed you felt every little bit of it. You subconsciously opened your legs to the feeling of pleasure that sparked through your body as, and let out a squeak when he places a small kiss to your clothed pussy.

“Gojo..” you whine. “Y-you’re still dressed,” you pant out. You feel him chuckle from in between your legs and you let out another small moan in response. “Aww, is my poor baby embarrassed?” He mocks, a small smirk gracing his features.

“N-no..” You mumble with a small pout, but the both of you know otherwise. Gojo quickly rids of his shirt and leans down to give you a quick peck before moving down to your pussy.

You feel your panties are wet, and he sees that they’re wet, and you should feel embarrassed but you don’t.

Gojo tears off your panties and before you can complain, he licks a long stripe from your pussy to your clit. You buck up in response to which his hands fly to your hips to hold them down. After that he makes quick work of making a mess out of you.

You release moan after moan when he repeatedly laps your clit, showing no sign of stopping. The lewd noises of your wet squelches and his sucking fill the room, along with your whimpers and his groans.

As he eats you out the small praises he drunkenly says are lost on your ears. The only thing you can focus on, can even comprehend, was the feeling of his tongue against your wet pussy and oh, the finger he slipped in your poor little pussy.

“Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well,” he praises when he sees you take his finger with no struggle. When your legs twitch he knows you're close and speeds up the thrusting of his one finger and the speed of his tongue against your clit.

“Ah, ah fuck! G-Gojo,” you scream out, so close, just one more second and…

You let out a sob when you feel his finger quickly slip out of your sobbing pussy, and the feeling of his tongue no longer working on your clit. You could almost cry at the lost orgasm.

“Y-you’re so mean,” you sniffle out. “Can’t have you cummin yet baby,” he says shakily. His breaths come out in pants, his thoughts all over the place but the only constant is you.

He leaves a trail of kisses along the inside of your thigh, sucking on them every few kisses. He mumbles soft praises in between, “You're so beautiful, my pretty girl, doing so well.”

When he decides your thighs are littered with enough marks, he moves up your body coming face to face with you. His two fingers prod at your mouth, silently telling you to open your mouth. You obey, your tongue swirling around his thick fingers, tears threatening to spill your eyes.

While you’re working on his two fingers he took the liberty of slowly rolling his hips against yours. He kisses your cheek when he removes his fingers from your mouth, and slowly trails them along your body till he reaches your pussy.

The both of your lips connect when he slowly drags his fingers lightly down your body till they stop at your entrance. He coaxes you to breathe, staring into your eyes as he teases your clit.

He starts to pump his fingers into you, your juices coating his fingers. As you start to loosen up even more he slides another finger into you. The feeling of his thick hands inside of you make you feel impossibly stretched. It feels so good, everything feels so good fuck.

As you near your orgasm you pull him close to you, whimpering and panting wanting, needing to finish as his fingers ruthlessly attack the spongy spot inside your pussy.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you whine fucked out on his fingers. “Please Gojo let me cum,” you lean in to kiss him but he pulls back, teasing you. He pretends to think, already knowing the answer. “You’ve been such a good girl,” he growls out. Matching his thrusts with his words. “Guess I should let you,” he finishes and kisses you.

His fingers speed up making your legs twitch as you reach your climax. Your moans are beautiful against his ears, he can never get enough of you. You’re so perfect.

You call out his name when you cum, your juices spraying out and coating his fingers. He slows down his tempo to help you ride through your orgasm, swallowing your cute little pants and whines.

“How’s my sweet girl doing?” He coos, cupping your cheek and using his thumb to caress the side of your face. You lean into his touch, still blissfully fucked out on his fingers. You let out a hum to signal you’re still with him.

Red coats your cheeks when you hear him say that you taste so fucking good. You use both of your hands to grasp on his forearm that’s attached to the hand on your cheek. “Mm Gojo,” you softly whisper out his name, not completely sure what the real goal was. You just wanted to say his name.

“I know baby, I know,” he quickly places a peck on your forehead before leaning back and quickly undoing his belt and jeans, leaving him in his boxers. Still in your fucked out state you don’t notice just how big he is.

He makes quick work of his boxers, throwing them in a random corner of the room before leaning down over you. “Is this okay? Are you okay with this?” He asks, and you could almost laugh if you weren’t out of breath. Of course you were okay with this, more than okay. “Yesyesyes, just let me feel you. I want you. Please,” you breathe out, looking straight into his eyes.

And something in him just snaps.

Hearing you beg for him, how utterly desperate you sound, it’s too much, you’re too much. His feelings for you are too much. He drags you to the end of the bed and places your legs over his shoulders. He shoves your full length inside of your pussy and you cry out. He’s so big…

You barely have time to adjust before he pulls back out and slams back into you. You grip onto his back, nails scratching down the entirety of his backside. “‘Ts too much- Ah!” moan after moan fills the room, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each other is basically drowned out by both your cries and his grunts.

The ruthless pace he sets makes your tits bounce against his chest, and he doesn’t fail to notice. His mouth greedily sucks on one while his hand fondles the other. “Oh my god! You feel so good ah..,” the sound of your cute little moans do downright dirty things to him. It makes him want to fucking ruin you.

When he decides your right boob is marked up enough he moves to your other, spitting on it before continuing his same merciless treatment on it.

You feel like your soul left your body when one of his hands lifted your hips a bit so he could thrust deeper into you. His cock is filling every single bit of you, and your pussy is greedily sucking him in.

“Ngh..Gojo feels so good. Your cock is filling me ah! so well,” you chant out his name like a prayer.

Once he declares both of your pretty tits taken care of he wraps a hand around your throat and makes eye contact with you. “Beautiful girl..taking me so well. Perfect, you’re fucking perfect,” he praises against your lips.

Both of you are near, you can feel his cock twitching inside of you and Gojo can feel how your pretty pussy is gripping him even more tight. It’s basically calling out his name, pulsing around his dick like a needy little thing.

“Gojo!” You scream out when you cum for the second time that night. Just a few more thrusts and he releases inside of you as well, spilling his warm cum inside of you.

His pace slows as he rides out his orgasm while also helping you ride out yours. “So perfect..did so well, pretty girl, did so fucking good,” he whispers. He continues to let out sweet praises as both of you continue to catch your breath.

You weren’t sure when you closed your eyes, but when you reopened them you were now in the bath against a firm, hard chest. You close your eyes again, relishing the feeling of being relaxed against him.

Gojo on the other hand is still in awe, he can’t, will not believe that you’re here with him. Leaning against him like this has been routine for years, like you guys have been together.

He rests his cheek against your head and you softly hum. His hands gently rub incoherent shapes against your hips as the two of you seek comfort against the both of each other.

Lovestruck!Gojo who kisses the crown of your head as his arms snake around your waist. His hold tightens, and you let it.

Lovestruck! Gojo who promises himself to keep holding you like this now, and in the future. Who promises to never let you go, and you’d never dream of letting him.

[umikawa]

a/n: shout out to the song I was listening to, you a real one.

senku ishigami x gn!reader | 1.3k wc, not proofread (thoroughly) | warnings: sen thinks dumbass and idiot are romantic nicknames, lot of intimate touching (not sexual) a sex joke (I find them funny) a bit ooc unfortunately. I love dialogue.

♫ a starry night in apollo bay / rini

“Hey, genius.”

Senku doesn’t turn at the sound of your voice, he’d already deduced it was you the second he heard your footsteps sink into the sand. “Hey, dumbass.”

A light chuckle follows his sentimental nickname for you (he swears by it) and he finds his body relaxing just from hearing it. He watches you from the corner of his eyes, how you hesitate slightly to sit next to him, measuring the distance between the both of you by your hand– he’s sure you’re worrying if it’s too close.

“Hurry up and sit.” He says, looking unbothered per usual. When you don’t, he casts a lazy look in your direction, you know the exasperation is faux to an extent, but the way his brow twitches slightly shows you genuine concern. “You’re worried for no reason whatsoever, idiot.”

“Sorry.” The soft apology makes him scoff, and then in an unexpected move (from Senku, at least) he tugs you down by the hand, huffing when you fall into his side. “You could be gentle, you know?”

He shrugs the shoulder you lay on, a sliver of a frown on his lips when you scoot away. “You could’ve just sat down. But you didn't, so I had to take the initiative.”

“Yeah and practically pulled me into your lap.” You scoff, flicking sand at his leg.

“Bet you’d like that.” He grins, mischief written all over his face. Your hand comes up to his face, shoving his head backward gently, but the act alone is enough to irritate him. “Idiot.” He scoffs, brushing the sand off his face.

“You love me.” The statement rolled off your tongue as a joke, embedded with playfulness because Senku was not the sentimental type. “I’m your best asset.”

“You’re a damn leech is what you are.” You frown— Senku knows you’re faking it.

“You don’t want me to say the insinuation that popped into my head, do you.” The warning left your mouth with a laugh, bumping your shoulder into his.

Senku chortles, returning your action twice as hard. “Oh, I already know it. You know why?” You raise a brow, urging him to continue. “Because I know you.”

Silence followed his words, it hung heavy over your heads, but it wasn’t tense. His eyes are on you, but yours are set on the night sky twinkling above you. Senku takes you in bit by bit, charting every new mark on your face and neck.

A new scar by your eye, that came after you’d exhausted yourself and fell face first into his baskets.

A few new moles and freckles, likely from the sun, he’d have to figure out sunscreen next. He doubts you’d want to put mud on your face willingly.

The feeling of his cold fingers on your chin finally tears your eyes away from the starry night, your lips parting as you look at him. “Senku?”

He shakes his head, laying his palm flat against your cheek. “Just examining.” You nod slowly, eyes darting over his face– he’s not lying but there’s another reason, you’re sure of it. “You’ve got a few blemishes here and there.”

“Gee, thanks. You’re pretty too.” Your words come out with a scoff, and Senku laughs in response. His palm shifts on your cheek, but he doesn’t pull away, instead his thumb begins to brush under your eye, pulling lightly at the skin. “Senku.”

“Just checking. Remember you had exceptionally bad dry eyes?” You hum. “Though I’m sure it was the result of you staring at your phone all night.”

“You wanted someone to talk to at two in the morning, I was there.”

Senku feels his chest tighten. He dismisses it. “Sure, use me as your excuse.”

His fingers travel to your temples, squeezing lightly until you groan and drop your head. “Huh, that’s new.”

“Don’t go acting like you know how my body reacts to things.” You say, slapping his leg. “I get endless headaches from your long, boring speeches about Neanderthals and the Stone Age.”

He pouts, he looks stupid— cute, even. “Because it applies to this world again, we got sent back in time and now I have to make up for it.”

“We.”

“Sure. We have to make up for it.” You shove him again, and Senku shoves you back. He lets his hands get back to work, tilting and turning your head, the way a kid would with their dolls— you slap him when he tries to turn your head too far to the side.

Then he starts to go down. His fingers leave goosebumps in their wake as they trail down your shoulders to your elbows, you’re watching his hands and Senku’s watching you. Noting every reaction, every twitch of your brows, and every shaky breath that leaves your lips.

He holds your wrist, pausing his movements to count your pulse— it’s fast. “Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles at your honesty, nodding his head. “If I did this to you– would you react the same?”

Senku pauses, actually thinking about it. Then he shrugs, “I don’t know.” He retracts his hand, you mourn the loss of contact. He picks your hand up and rests it against his cheek. It already feels warm against your palm. “Go ahead, examine.”

You hesitate at first, crimson eyes locked on you like a hawk, it felt like he was trying to melt you with his gaze. “Your hands are sweating.”

“Shut it.” Senku nods with a laugh, freezing when your hand starts to move down to his neck. Your fingers brush against the stone still stuck in his hair, lightly tugging at the strands around it. “This doesn’t bother you?”

“Nah, it’s an inconvenience sure but, I’m ten billion percent certain it’ll benefit me in the long run.” He gets an uninterested hum in response before your hands slide back up to his jaw.

He looks calm, but his heartbeat is unsteady, he can feel his palm starting to clam up, and his skin feels abnormally hot where your hands are.

Is this normal?

Every brush of your fingers against his skin left a fire, he tries not to catch your eye when his lips part, you’re too focused on them anyway. A shuddering breath comes out when your fingers stop at the base of his neck, you inch closer, and Senku feels his heart stop.

This wasn’t normal.

“Aren’t you ticklish?” His eyes widened slightly at your words, hands coming up to grab your wrists and pull your hands away from him quickly. “How cute. Are you really that ticklish?”

“Don’t even try it, dumbass.” He warns, holding your hands together and away from him. The heat of the moment dissipated slowly, but the rampant beating in Senku’s chest remained.

The crashing waves in front of you take your attention away from him, but Senku keeps his eyes on you– admiring or calculating, he doesn’t know.

Your eyes close when a breeze blows by, he takes it as a chance to scoot closer to you without notice, but you beat him to it. Your head falls to his shoulder, and though his heartbeat skyrockets once again, he lets the puff of faux annoyance out.

He lowers his head, red-dusted cheeks and ears being hidden by the moonlight– he’s grateful for it. If someone saw him in this state, he’d have to come up with some scientific explanation for it to save his ass, but luckily (as much as he could say) he didn’t have to worry about that.

Because it was just you and him.

For now, at least. He’s sure a certain oaf will wake soon.

A content sigh leaves your mouth, tickling his neck. Your hand finds purchase on his arm, and it takes everything within him to not grab your hand and lace his fingers with yours. Because that’s not like him.

“We should go soon,” he whispers, hand hesitantly creeping up your back. “The tide will wash us out if we don’t.”

You hum, the vibrations swarming through Senku’s chest. “Let’s stay for a little while longer.”

Senku doesn’t protest.

Because he wants to be with you for as long as he can.

[splishfish]

︵‿︵‿୨♡Be Mine!♡୧‿︵‿︵

♡Summary: How MHA men make you theirs!

♡Characters: Tomura Shigaraki, Dabi, Keigo Takami, Aizawa Shouta

♡WC: 1.3k

♡A/N: Pure Fluff, Happy Valentines Day!!

❥ Tomura Shigaraki

If you’re not already Tomura’s lover, you’ll bet your ass he’s gonna spend all day getting there. The moment you wake up, you find a poorly written letter under your door, someone having slit it under the crack of under your door during the night. The letter had blunt yet cute advances written on it, your favorite being… ‘You’re so pretty, and out of everyone here, you’re the most useful one.’

It was very obvious who sent you the letter, but you would be lying if you said you didn���t find it adorable. Just imagining your boss staying up at night to write you a love letter had your cheeks hurting from the giddy smile on your face.

But it didn’t end there. Throughout the day, he had even become more vocal. Every passing glance or conversation, he tried to discreetly compliment you. Of course, it wasn’t discreet at all.

’You smell good today.’ ‘You did really good on that last mission…uh, you look good too.’ ‘Your hair is…pretty. Looks good…today.’

He was oh so sweet, his red eyes landing on you whenever he thought you weren’t looking, his eyes lidded with affection as he watched you interact with everyone. It was nearing night when he finally pulled you aside, scratching his neck as he stared at you, his expression far softer than you’ve ever seen before…

The chilly air pricked at your skin as Tomura dragged you out of the bar and away from everyone else, his excuse being ‘It’s regarding your last mission’...sure. It wasn’t until he turned around to face you, damaged nails idly scratching his neck as his lips pulled into a nervous pout. He grunted as he spoke bluntly.

“It’s Valentine's day.” “Well, it’s the end of Valentin-”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s Valentine's day…So be mine.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

❥ Dabi

Dabi is far less shy about his advances, but he isn’t blunt about it either. Like Tomura, he’s gonna spend the whole day leading up to his confession, starting with handing you a mug of hot chocolate. It was sweet, a little too sweet in your opinion, but it was so easy to look past it the moment you saw his blue eyes glance in your direction for even the smallest semblance of approval.

He stays close to you throughout the day, sliding into the chair next to you at the bar and making idle chatter, plopping himself down on the empty space of the couch besides you and boldly throwing his arm around your shoulders. He even tugs you a little closer despite avoiding eye contact the whole time <3

Typically so confident and arrogant, it nearly gives you whiplash when he starts telling you such sweet compliments and comments with the most nervous and uneven tone. Really, it damn near makes you giggle whenever he starts, but you’re pretty sure he’d burn you into a crisp, no matter his feelings for you.

’You got pretty eyes…keep ‘em on me…?’ ‘You uh…you look good in that outfit…really good.’ ‘You’re cold…i’ll heat you up…if you uh…c’mere…?’

By the time Dabi even asks you to be his Valentine, it’s already past midnight, well past the appropriate time to confess, but it was never his goal to make you his Valentine. No, he wanted you to be his, entirely, and forever. That's why he forced you to stay up, drinks in hand as you both sat in a comfortable silence.

The amber glow of the bar created a warm air around you both, the silence making way for the soft breathing you two shared. His scarred hand held onto an old fashioned bourbon, swirling it as he stared ahead into the wall of drinks. A glass of your preferred drink was sitting idle next to your hand, your eyes lidded as a wave of exhaustion slowly overtook you. It was only when he spoke that you tried to force your eyes to open again.

“Hey.” “Hm?” “You’re all mine, y’know that?”

“Mhm…”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

❥ Shouta Aizawa

Shouta was never one to be ‘sweet’. He’s blunt and apathetic, and he finds the concept of valentines day, to be blunt, stupid. Why should there be a day to show your love for someone, when you could do that any other day of the week? What makes Valentines day so special?

…is what he thought until he met you. Truly, if his past self had met himself now, he was sure he’d try to slap himself straight. Now, however, you had entered his life, ruining all his previous thoughts and theories. Now, he found himself with a handful of your favorite flowers wrapped so pretty, and a heart shaped box of chocolates in his other hand.

Shouta isn’t a shy man, he never has been. So when he makes his way to your apartment this beautiful Valentine's evening, he finds it hard to believe that as he balls his fist to knock on your door, he’s clenching his fist so tightly his knuckles have turned white. He could feel his palms begin to form beads of sweat, and his brows furrow as he takes a deep breath, eyes locking onto yours instantly as you opened the door.

’I got these for you…you told me you liked these flowers a while back…’ ‘I also got these chocolates…they uh…only sold them in these boxes..’ ‘Can I…come inside?’

And when he steps foot into your home, he finally relaxes, finding himself far more comfortable knowing that this was going well. He doesn’t even notice how late it is hours later, the sun slowly lowering past the horizon, causing a pink colored hue to grace the sky. He thinks to himself that now, now is the time.

You sat across from him at your dinner table, your face sore from smiling, his blunt nature far more humorous than intimidating. You don’t even notice the way he’s staring at you until he taps his index finger on the table three times, discreetly calling for your attention. It startles you when your eyes meet, a small smile gracing his typically blank face, and his eyes soft as he murmured.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

“Huh..? Oh, thank you…” “Yeah…I’m glad I spent today with you.”

“Y-Yeah…me too!”

“We could do this more often, if you were mine.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

❥ Keigo Takami

Keigo is bold, that's for sure. He’s not shy about pursuing you, especially during Valentine's day. Your day starts with a burrage of knocks on your door, rustling of feathers just barely audible through the wood. When you open the door, you’re greeted with a wide smile and golden eyes before suddenly a bouquet of flowers is shoved into your face.

And that's not all! No, Keigo takes Valentine's day very seriously. He gently shoves you further into your apartment before plopping you down onto your own couch, his wings fluffed up as sprinted back to your front door. When he comes back, he returns with chocolates, a stuffed toy of your favorite animal, and…a limited edition plushie of himself.

He hands it all to you, sitting down besides you before quickly slinging his arm over you, tugging you closer. Keigo’s not shy about his affection at all, but its no surprise to you. He was always affectionate, always so flirty and casual, you honestly didn’t think much of it until his words began to linger in your brain.

’You’re so pretty y’know? Why don’t you got a partner yet huh? You waitin’ for me?’ ‘Oh c’mon, you know you’re the only one I’m like this with right?’ ‘Hey, you’ll be my Valentines right? I’m already here after all!’

Maybe it was just you, but he felt much more clingy today. His hand holding yours tightly, his wing wrapping around you like a makeshift blanket, and his head leaning against yours affectionately. Now, what was weirder was the chirping he seemed to be letting out, small tweets of affection leaving him. Maybe it was all in your head, but that was quickly thrown out the window as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips.

“Wh-? What was that for?”

“What, I can't kiss my lover~?”

“LOVER??”

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[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Better Job Offer » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky witnesses how horrible your boss is to you so he steps in and stands up for you. He also offers you a better job as his assistant, in which you happily accept.

Warnings: Angst (not you and Bucky), Fluff, language, crying, pet names

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

GIF MADE BY ME!

Bucky was walking down the street to a nearby coffee shop when he heard and seen your boss yelling at you. He stopped in his tracks with a great amount of distance between you and him to watch, just in case things got out of hand.

“What is this?” Your boss asks.

“Ice coffee.” You answered.

“I told you I wanted hot coffee, not ice coffee!” She says loudly.

“You told me you wanted ice coffee.” You say, recalling her words from a few minutes ago.

“I did not say that! Either you weren’t listening or you’re just fucking stupid!” She says loudly.

She took the lid off the cup and threw the ice coffee at you. You gasped at the coldness of the coffee and ice cubes. The coffee got all over your brand new shirt. Bucky’s jaw clenched when he saw that. He walked over to you.

“That was completely uncalled for.” Bucky says to your boss.

“She got my coffee order wrong.” Your boss says.

“So you resorted to throwing it at her?” He asks.

“Yes, because she’s fucking stupid and doesn’t know how to get anything right.” She says.

Your eyes teared up and your bottom lip quivered, a few tears rolled down your cheeks.

“She’s human. Humans make mistakes.” He says.

“Not like her. Besides, she’s barely human. She’s an idiot.” She says, looking at you.

To be honest, you hate your job. You’ve been wanting to quit for a while. You were always scared to speak up to her.

“I quit!” You finally say.

“Excuse me?” Your boss says.

“I quit!” You repeated.

“You can’t quit.” She says.

“Yes she can. She can do whatever the hell she wants.” Bucky says.

Your boss scoffs before approaching you and got in your face.

“I want your shit off your desk today.” She says.

Your boss walked away. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Are you ok, ma’am?” Bucky politely asks.

“Besides being soaked in coffee and being out of a job, I’m ok.” You say.

Bucky went inside of the coffee shop and got some napkins. He gave them to you and you tried to dry the coffee on your shirt.

“What’s your name?” Bucky asks.

“Y/N.” You tell him.

“I’m Bucky.” He introduces himself. “Can I buy you a coffee?” He asks.

“I would like that.” You smiled.

You threw away the coffee soaked napkins and walked inside the coffee shop with Bucky. You ordered your usual coffee and so did he. You and him sat down at a table to talk for a little bit.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do now that I don’t have a job.” You say.

“If you’re up for it, I have a job offer for you.” He says.

“What kind of job?” You asked.

“I need an assistant.” He tells you. “All you have to do is tell me about yourself and the job is yours.” He says.

“Are you sure you want me to be your assistant?” You asked. “You heard what my now old boss said. I’m a stupid fucking idiot that can’t get anything right.” You say, looking down.

“Hey.” He put a comforting hand on your hand, getting you to look at him. “Don’t listen to a word she said. She’s a bitch. In my opinion, I think you have potential to be an amazing assistant.” He says, making you smile.

“When do you want to interview me?” You asked.

“Does tomorrow morning at 9am work for you?” He asks.

“Yes.” You replied.

“Great! I’ll see you tomorrow, doll.” He smiles.

You and Bucky exchanged phone numbers before leaving the coffee shop. You went to your now old job to clean out your desk and went home. You wanted to get out of the coffee soaked shirt. That’s what you exactly did when you got home. You pretreated it before it stained. You made sure to print out your résumé for your job interview with Bucky tomorrow. You also picked out an outfit for your interview with Bucky tomorrow.

———

When you got there, you patiently and nervously waited for Bucky. One of your legs was bouncing up and down while you were fidgeting with your fingers.

“Sergeant Barnes will see you now.” A woman said.

You got up and followed her to Bucky’s office.

“Sergeant Barnes, your 9 o’clock is here.” The woman says to Bucky.

“Great! Thank you!” Bucky smiles as he stood up and walked over to you.

The woman gave Bucky a nod before walking out of his office. Bucky closed the door before turning his full attention to you.

“Good morning. How are you?” Bucky smiles, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“Good morning. I actually slept well last night and I don’t know why I just told you that.” You say nervously.

“Are you nervous?” He asks.

You nodded.

“It’s ok. I understand.” He smiles.

Bucky gestures for you to sit down, in which you did. He sat down in his desk chair. You nervously handed him your résumé. He took it and looked at it. You looked at the pictures on his desk, smiling when you seen a picture of him and Steve Rogers.

“Your résumé looks great.” Bucky says.

“Would it help if I said I played sports when I was a teenager?” You asked.

You felt stupid for asking that, but it was just your nerves talking. Literally.

“That’s nice to know, but you won’t be using athletic skills while you’re working for me.” He says with a smile.

“Working for you?” You asked, making sure you heard him right.

“You got the job.” He smiles.

“Oh my god! Really? Thank you so much!” You say happily and excitedly.

“You’re welcome, doll.” He says softly.

Bucky stood up from his desk chair and walked over to you. You stood up from the chair. He held his hand out for you to shake, in which you did.

“How about I show you to your new office?” Bucky suggests.

“I would like that.” You say.

You followed Bucky out of his office and across the hall to an empty office that only has a desk and a chair in there. It’s nice, spacious, and big.

“Holy shit…” You mumbled, looking around the office.

“Do you like it?” He asks. “If not, I can show you another one if you’d like.” He says.

“I like it!” You say fast. “It’s just- it’s way bigger than my old office. My old boss gave me a small supply closet as an office.” You say.

Bucky put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Forget about her. You have a way better job now.” He says softly.

You looked up at him and gave him a smile.

“Do you have any questions?” He asks.

“I have two questions.” You say. “When do I start and am I allowed to decorate my office?” You asked.

“You start tomorrow morning and you can decorate this office any way you want.” He replies.

“Really? Oh, thank you!” You exclaimed happily.

You gave him a hug, catching both of you by surprise.

“Oh god! I’m so sorry! My excitement got away from me!” You apologized profusely.

“It’s ok. I understand.” Bucky says with a smile.

Bucky, being the gentleman he is, walked you to your car after your interview.

“Thank you for the job, Mr. Barnes.” You smiled.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles. “Call me Bucky.” He adds.

“Bucky.” You smiled.

———

The next morning, you made sure to wake up early so you had enough time to get ready. Normally, you’re never excited to go to work, but today you are excited. You think it’s because you have a new and better job. You have a feeling you’re going to love it.

When you got to work, everyone is so welcoming. They smiled at you and said good morning to you. When you opened the door to your new office, you seen a vase of flowers on your desk. You smiled and walked over to your desk, admiring how pretty the flowers are. You were curious to know who got you flowers. That’s when you found a small card in the midst of the flowers. You picked it out of the flowers and read it, smiling when you seen you got you the flowers.

Good luck on your first day of your new job. You’ll do great.

-Bucky

“I see you love the flowers I got you.” Bucky says as he walks in your office.

“You’re so sweet. Thank you, Bucky.” You smiled.

“You’re welcome, doll. I wanted to make you feel welcome.” He says with a smile.

“I do feel welcomed.” You smiled.

“I’ll let you decorate your office to your liking. Let me know if you need anything.” He says.

“I’m the assistant. Shouldn’t I be the one saying that to you?” You playfully joked.

“Good point, doll face.” He chuckles. “I thought you’d like to ease into the job today.” He says sweetly.

“You’re so sweet, Bucky.” You say again and smiled.

“I have a feeling that we’re going to work well together.” He says with a smile.

“Me too.” You say, smiling back.

Bucky gives you a smile before leaving you to decorate your office. You looked around your office with a smile on your face. Even though it’s your first day, you absolutely love this job. You love it more than your old job. You wouldn’t change it for the world.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[crocodile-tears-and-a-dream]

excuses..

summary: the two of you stopped at an inn after a long night of travel, but there was only one room..

pairing: geralt of rivia x gn!reader

warnings: they're stupid, fluff

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i haven't written anything that's not a crack fic or a screenplay in ages. this is my attempt at fixing my bad writing, any constructive feedback is welcome!

it was stupid, borderline pathetic, how the two of you tried to find any reasoning at all that cold winter night.

you and geralt had been traveling for quite some time trying to get to the famous kaer morhen. he needed to gather more elixirs and supplies for future battles and monsters, but the weather became too harsh to keep going up the mountains. tonight seemed particularly frigid, so you both decided to stop at an inn rather than camping outside like usual.

as you walked in, the warmth from the fireplace consumed the small space of the room, a stark contrast from the conditions you came from. a frail-looking old man sat at the counter bored, instantly sitting up as he watched geralt’s large form stomp through the quaint lodge. you followed closely behind as he made his way to the reception desk.

“we need two rooms.” the white wolf grunted tossing a bag of coins on the counter. (haha.. I'm not funny)

“yes of course,” the old man says snapping out of his stupor. he flipped through his log book and lets out a sigh. “unfortunately we only have one room left”

“we’ll take it”

you weren't given much of an option and the innkeeper had already handed you the key. it's not like you were disappointed though. you had developed quite the attraction for the silvered-haired witcher during your travels together. you would never admit it out loud, but the longing gazes and lingering touches the two of you often shared meant something more. at least to you it did.

it was a silent walk up to the room. neither of you knew what the other was thinking, but maybe that was for the better. it was selfish the way you hoped there would be an excuse to hold him close as the night grew colder.

the door creaked open and your heart sunk a little as you took in your surroundings. the room was beautiful, yes. the nicest thing you had stayed in for months but, there was one problem.

there were two beds.

geralt, oblivious to your internal conflict, stepped further into the room and dropped his belongings onto the bed nearest the window. the soft creak of the mattress, as he sat down, snapped you out of your thoughts, and you busied yourself by removing your cloak, shaking off the snow that clung to the edges.

“we should get some rest,” he said, his deep voice breaking the silence. “the snow will calm by morning, and we’ll need to leave early.”

you nodded, avoiding his gaze as you placed your things on the other bed. the room was quiet except for the sound of the wind howling outside and the faint crackle of a small hearth in the corner. the heat was soothing, but it did little to calm the restless energy swirling within you.

as geralt began to undo his armor, his movements slow and deliberate, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at him. the firelight danced across the sharp lines of his face and body, casting shadows that only made him seem more otherworldly. he caught you staring, and for a moment, his golden eyes met yours.

“you’re quiet tonight,” he observed, his tone softer than usual. never in a million years could you have imagined a time where geralt spoke more than you. i guess there's a first time for everything you thought to yourself

“i’m just tired,” you lied, forcing a small smile.

he nodded but didn’t look away, as if he was trying to read something hidden in your expression. the weight of his gaze made your heart race, and you quickly turned back to your belongings, fumbling with your pack.

“get some sleep,” he said finally, his voice low but gentle. “we’ve got a long day of travel tomorrow.”

you nodded again, slipping under the blankets of your bed and turning your back to him. but as you stared at the wall, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was just as restless as you.

a couple of hours passed, and the two of you drifted into a deep slumber. your dreams took you to familiar places—snow-covered trails, battles against monsters, and the quiet moments by the campfire when words weren’t needed. but more than anything, you dreamed of him. his sun kissed eyes, his rare smiles, and his strong presence always keeping you safe.

then the dream shifted. the warmth of the campfire turned into an oppressive heat, the orange glow becoming flames roaring at the edges of your vision. your heart raced as the bed beneath you ignited, the fire consuming the blankets and wood. the panic felt so real, and you jolted awake, gasping for breath.

except it wasn’t just a dream.

flames flickered at the edge of your bed, small but growing, their heat unmistakable. you scrambled out of bed, the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears. the realization hit you like a cold slap: you had caused this. your magic, tied so deeply to your emotions, had manifested the fire from your nightmare.

“geralt!” you called instinctively, but you didn’t wait for him to wake. your hands moved on their own, summoning a stream of water from thin air. the magic poured from your fingertips, dousing the flames before they could spread further. steam rose in a hiss, and the smell of scorched fabric lingered in the air.

geralt sat up abruptly, his sword already in hand, instincts sharp even in the haze of sleep. his eyes darted around the room before settling on you, still standing with trembling hands and remnants of magic fading from your fingertips.

“what happened?” he asked, his voice low but alert, eyes narrowing in concern.

“i—i had a nightmare,” you stammered, your voice shaky. “and I... i think my magic got out of control.”

he stood, crossing the room in a few quick strides clearing some of the smoke with his arms along the way. his gaze flickered between you and the damp, charred edge of the bed, realizing the situation.

“are you hurt?” he asked, his tone softening as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

you shook your head, swallowing hard. “no. i’m fine. i put it out before it got worse.”

he studied you for a moment, his hand lingering as if to steady you. “you should’ve woken me,” he said finally, his voice calm but firm. “fire magic is dangerous if you’re not careful.”

“i didn’t mean to,” you whispered, guilt creeping into your voice.

“i know,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly against your shoulder before he stepped back. “but you handled it well.”

he looked at the scorched bed and then back at you. “you need rest. take mine.”

“what about you?” you asked, still shaken.

“i’ll manage,” he said simply, dragging a chair toward the hearth and settling into it, his sword resting across his lap. “just... sleep. i’ll keep watch.”

you hesitated, the weight of his gaze grounding you. slowly, you nodded and climbed into his bed, the lingering warmth of his presence oddly comforting. his scent lingered on the pillow and you found yourself wanting more.

"wait-" you called, your voice wavering slightly as you sat up in bed, unsure of the words you were about to say.

geralt looked up at you, his honey-dripped eyes still sharp but softer in the dim light. he waited, allowing you to speak, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

"you're going to be tired tomorrow if you don't rest now..." you hesitated for a moment, but the quiet need gnawing at you grew stronger. "we can share the bed, i don’t mind."

you could feel the tension between you two, both of you trying to navigate the line between comfort and something more. geralt's gaze flickered to the bed, and for a moment, you saw a flash of hesitance cross his face. but it was gone in an instant, replaced by that familiar stoicism.

“are you sure?” he asked quietly, his voice low and careful, like he was weighing the words carefully.

you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak again. you didn't need to, though; your eyes, pleading and vulnerable, said enough. there was no turning back now.

geralt gave a soft grunt of acknowledgment, settling back slightly as you climbed into the bed next to him. his body remained rigid, keeping a respectable distance, but the air between you was charged with something unspoken. neither of you said anything, but the shared warmth in the bed was all that mattered. you could feel his presence beside you, close enough to touch, but not quite allowing it. as you lay there, facing your back to him, your heart raced with the knowledge that, despite the stillness of the night, something had shifted.

before long, the warmth and the sound of his breathing lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep. the tension in your body melted away, and the darkness of slumber took over.

but geralt stayed awake a while longer, his gaze never leaving your form. he couldn't help but watch, the softness in his expression betraying his usual guarded demeanor. as the hours passed, something inside him shifted, a quiet longing he’d tried to ignore.

slowly, he moved, as though pulled by some invisible force. he gently shifted closer, his arm slipping around you instinctively. his body molded to yours, and without a second thought, he held you close, his warmth wrapping around you like a shield.

the movement was so subtle, you barely registered it in your sleep. but your body, so attuned to his presence, naturally relaxed against him. his heart beat steadily behind you, his grip possessive but not tight, just enough to keep you there, pressed perfectly against his chest.

and maybe- just maybe, you would never find out that it was him who set your bed ablaze finding it the simplest excuse, in his mind, to hold you close.

[imaluvsj7]

緑 ──── KISS AND MAKE UP ; nishimura riki

SYNOPSIS: riki and reader make up after the argument over text but not only for the argument but also riki learns a little more about relationship PAIRING : idol riki x reader GENRE : fluffy, angst ; WC : 1,379

WARNINGS : to understand the plot better you need to read my riki boyfriend text smau which I have linked here and also all the way down. Not proofread thoroughly, english is not my first language. That's it I don't think there is anything sensitive they have some good talk about relationship.

AUTHORS NOTE : clearly my feminist didn't come over, but honestly to all the girls out there please choose a kind ask generous guy and don't be mother to any guy who takes everything from them I tried to put my message through this fic sorry not sorry if it offends anyone. I hope to make the mother wizard liz girls get it!!! DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

written in second person pov:

It's been two weeks since you have talked with Riki, one of the reasons was obviously you were upset with him but mainly because you don't know what to even talk about.

He has been sending flowers, food, and little gifts to apologize with a note saying he is sorry. Not only that but he is constantly sending you messages and voicemails. First it was explaining himself and apologizing but now it's all about him apologizing and asking to talk to you in person.

Today you finally thought of responding to him and meeting him because soon he has to prepare for their comeback, which also means there will be a tour announcement. You don't want him to go on without solving everything.

Walking towards the park you guys always meet since him being an idol wasn't an easy task to roam with his girlfriend everywhere. Thoughts have filled your brain that desires to turn around and run away but you kept your decision firm.

Walking towards the bench you guys usually sit you find him eagerly waiting because of his bouncing leg. “Hi” he turns his head and looks at you, soon standing up and nervously trying to stabilize himself.

“H-hi ___ you came hah I was waiting for you to arrive you know to talk and make up I know you wanted to talk and we talk but I wanted to talk so much” he shuts up as realized he was rumbling. “Sorry I am just nervous”.

“It's okay riki let's sit and talk please.” Soon you both sat while there was silence for a few seconds but he was the first one to break it. “___ I know it was my mistake,I said in the heat of the moment. I know it's just an excuse but please I'm genuinely sorry I didn't mean to say that.”

“Riki it's not only about part of me going to your company but also how you didn't understand why I took stand for jake, I explained to you but you didn't even once responded to that text or even mentioned it once, talking about me understanding your idol industry yeah sure I don't experience them I don't understand the same emotions but I have seen you guys working.

I always sat with you whenever you went through rough patches in your idol life. I tried my best to understand never backed away and how can I let someone disrespect Jake when all he was was being too comfortable with him.

Jake was clearly uncomfortable with her actions and he set the boundaries by dismissing her but then she went all defensive talking about how bad Jake was during practice hours so she is trying to help him. She isn't even your guy's choreographer and not only that also went too far saying Jake is acting too tough when all he did was speak for himself.

How can I let someone talk to him like that? I walked inside when she was talking in a disrespectful tone with him and all I did was hold her accountable for her actions and words. As soon as the manager called you and said I was being disrespectful you started giving me silent treatment even after Jake explained to you the whole situation you didn't approach me.

And even after understanding the whole situation you went ahead and said those words.” — you take a breath after letting out all the thoughts and emotions you had suppressed in the two weeks. “I know it was my fault soon after the text Jungwon hyung called everyone to talk about the matter and after discussing with them I realized my mistake and the things I said.

Before the discussion the manager told me Jake hyung did stand for himself and because you're not a part of the company you don't need to come over because of your disrespectful behavior. I knew and even defended you that you definitely did that because of some reason but as soon as the manager said I need to distance myself from you I went blank and felt angry and I just took that out of you even after Jake told me everything.

I was just angry about the situation and in the heat of the moment I thought if Jake did speak up for himself you didn't had to meddle in between which was my fault, I understand what you're coming from baby I was just furious from mangers words and I just took that on your I’m really sorry. I know that's my mistake and I swear I'm ready to do everything to make it right. I just don't want to lose you. I know it's pathetic and corny to say the sentence after doing wrong and all guys say the same thing but I mean it please I will do whatever you want me to.”

“Reflect on yourself then, reflect on your words and actions, it's not only about now it's about everytime we go through anything. I don't want a guy who acts tough and is emotionally unavailable when it's required. I want you to act mature when we have arguments and by that I don't mean you need to always be right or wrong I mean be a generous guy who understands the situation, who knows how to talk and knows how to communicate when it's required.

And it won't be achieved in the next day or the next moment. You need to work on yourself everyday, especially during every argument, it's not only about now but always. Do you understand what I'm saying?” — he quickly nods while looking at your hand and you nod, giving him permission to hold your hand.

“I know I'm definitely not the best guy and I love how mature you're ___ despite being the same age as me but I will try my best to understand your words and work on them, I know I am bad at some point of the relationship and that will never be an excuse to treat you bad but rather I will work of them I will understand situations before acting up. Just please hold my hand to guide me when we are in such situations.”

“I will riki but just know I'm not your mother who is raising a child, I will guide you depending upon the situation but you need to enhance your knowledge about relationship and how to make it work you're old enough to understand some aspects when things go wrong. I will guide you but I'm not your mother to stay emotionally strong through everything you do. I want a partner riki, not a baby.”

“Then lean on me as a partner and walk out when you need to play the role of mother. I don't want to act like a manchild or mommy's boy but as your beloved. Lean on me when we both know the direction and walk out when I push you forward to lead us on the path, lovely.”

Looking at you with teary eyes he asks “I know forgiveness isn't about the text but my behavior so it will take time and I want you to take time, but let's not break apart.” — he pleads with eyes filled with tears. “Who said we are breaking apart you dumb dumb of course not we will make it work” — you said while wiping his tears and hugging him while he breaks down in little sniffles.

“I was scared I thought you're going to break up after you stopped responding to me.” “Well that was because I wasn't mentally prepared to talk, you know.” “It's okay you're my precious so I am a little emotional.” “You sure it's little.” “Stop being mean, I will cry more.” — you laugh lightly at his whiny state while he still has his head in the crook of your neck. Soon after hugging for about ten minutes he pulls his head up and asks.

“So I can please kiss you.” “Well I don't think so.” “Sweetheart please please please.” “Sure you big baby.” — He quickly leans in while meeting your lips and locking them softly while he holds your hands tightly, silently promising himself to do better.

꩜ .ᐟ NOTE : haven't made my taglist yet so please ask in the reply to be added in my permanent taglist for more bangers,,, also I hope this doesn't turns out boring but people genuinely understand my point and for more context read part 1 here!!

꩜ .ᐟ TAGS: @taeminsboogers @mimisxs @nishimurarikisthings @avacelestepereira @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 masterlist taglist. 𖦹˙—

࣪

[justauthoring]

jerk [2].

because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate.

a/n: the LARGELY requested part two! honestly, i'd be willing to write more parts if people wanted :) this part ended up being more about the girls and y/ns friendship but i couldn't help myself - if you guys want some fluff with bakugou for future parts, just let me know!

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

part one. part three.

“You’re hiding something from us.”

There’s a beat of silence, then another, then another and when finally, you realize you should say something, you blink, sputtering out a barely believable; “no i’m not.”

Mina and Jirou glance at each other, then behind them at the rest of the girls, and you feel a layer of sweat build up when you realize all of your female classmates are here, surrounding you, demanding an answer. And you’ve never really been all that good at lying before, it’s how Bakugou was able to figure out the whole “i’m your soulmate thing” rather quickly and it had only taken him as long as it had because, well, it was Bakugou.

So, to put it bluntly, you’re screwed.

“Come on, Y/N,” Mina laughs, “that wasn’t even remotely believable.”

You know it’s written across your face, your eyes wide and your lips parted and you’re sure you look like quite the picture in that moment surrounded by every single female student in your class, a group of girls you considered your friends but were feeling considerably more like your interrogators in that moment. 

But you have to at least try.

“I’m not hiding anything,” you repeat, this time taking special care to make sure your voice is even and somewhat believable. “I’m just… tired. It’s been throwing my balance off. Sorry guys.”

You really are because you have been weird recently and you were hiding things (even if you were desperate for them not to know that) so the sincerity was there and it seems to be enough because they all glance at each other, frowning, and you can literally see the determination fade as Momo speaks up first.

“You have been leaving to train a lot,” she agrees with a solemn nod. “It’s no wonder you’re so tired. But you should still try to get some rest, don’t push yourself so hard.”

You let out a breath of relief, trying not to let it show as some of the girls shuffle back to walk away, until—

“Wait, that reminds me!”

It’s Jirou who calls it out and you feel yourself freeze.

“She hasn’t been training!”

Eyes widening, you turn to look at Jirou. She’s grinning your way, her figure pointed in your direction, clearly pleased she’d caught you in your lie.

“Jirou,” Uraraka calls out, confused. “What are you–”

“Two nights ago when she left to go training, I followed her, thinking we could train together… she wasn’t there.”

They gasp. Literally gasp.

“Now that you mention it,” Froppy nods, finger held to her chin in thought. “I haven’t actually seen her in the gym very often… nor does she look particularly like a person who’s just trained when she comes back.”

Their eyes fall on you and you take a step back.

“Y/N—”

And then you just run.

-

“I can’t believe she just ran!”

“I know!”

“Guys, I’m sure she had her reasons.”

“Who?”

Mina’s lips are left parted at the sound of Kirishima’s voice, all the girls turning to face him in the living room where he’s sat with the rest of the class.

“Y/N,” Mina explains with a huff, falling into the couch dramatically. “She’s been ditching us constantly and always leaving right after we return from class with some excuse. When we tried to ask her about it today, she lied and then when we caught on to her lie, she ran! Literally just bolting down the hallway before we could even blink.”

Kirishima frowns, glancing over to Denki on his left.

“That doesn’t sound like Y/N,” Deku calls out from across the room, head tilted in curiosity. “Especially to lie to you guys.”

“I know!” Mina calls out, throwing her hands up in exasperation. 

“Like I said,” Uraraka speaks up, trying to remain calm. “I’m sure she has her reasons. Maybe something’s wrong…”

“You think she could be in danger?” Shoto asks, quirking a brow. 

Uraraka shrugs; “I don’t know… I hope not.”

Everyone falls silent, worried expressions plastered on their faces.

“Wait, Kirishima… bro.” Denki calls, reaching to shake Kirishima aggressively, to which the red-haired boy swats his hands away, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Hasn’t Bakubro been disappearing a lot too?”

All the girls straighten out.

Kirishima just shakes his head; “Bakugou is always disappearing. You know he doesn’t like hanging with us a lot.”

“No, Denki’s right,” Sero nods, “even if he isn’t hanging with us, he’s usually in his room or in the gym. Recently, he just completely disappears.”

“I guess you’re right…” Kirishima frowns.

“Wait,” Jirou calls out, “what are you saying? That Bakugou is disappearing with Y/N?”

“That’s crazy,” Mina brushes off. “I’ve never even seen the two talk to each other unless they’re forced to–wait.”

Everyone's eyes snap to hers, wide.

“What?”

“You don’t think… no. It’s not possible.”

“Oh my god,” Denki cries out suddenly, leaning forward with a manic look in his eyes. “Bakubro is hurting Y/N!”

“Wait–”

“No way!” Kirishima calls out, turning to Denki. “Bakugou is a lot of things, but he would never hurt somebody intentionally. Especially not a girl. That’s not manly. Right, Midoriya?”

“Right,” Deku nods confidently, before pausing; “I think?”

“Hey!”

“Guys, no!” Mina cuts in, shaking her hands widely before her. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Okay…” Momo nods, “then what?”

She leans in, pausing for dramatic effect. “He could be… her soulmate!”

There’s silence, then, “no way.”

Mina’s face falls; “why not?”

“Bakugou? Having a soulmate?” Jirou snorts, “I doubt that.”

“Everybody has one!”

“Okay, the odds of him actually caring about his soulmate are slim to none,” Froppy offers in response.

“Yeah,” Deku nods, “I've never once seen Kacchan show interest in his soulmate like… ever.”

Kirishima shakes his head; “even I have to admit that’s so not manly.”

Everyone shuffles around agreements but Mina is quick to argue; “have any of you guys ever seen Bakugou’s soulmate mark?” Slowly, one by one, all glancing at each other, the guys shake their heads. Mina then turns to the girls. “Okay, have any of you ever seen Y/N’s? Cause she’s never shown or told me.”

The girls all shake their heads.

“So how can you really know?” Mina raises a brow, “I mean, Y/N is always so secretive about her mark. She refuses to tell me.”

-

“Bakugou, we have—”

“Katsuki.”

Coming to a sharp halt, lips left parted, you blink up at Bakugou.

With a grin, Bakugou gently shuts your mouth with a hand to your jaw, laughing lightly; “say Katsuki. That’s my name.”

You can feel your cheeks warm, profusely, and a burst of heat flood through you as you pull yourself from his touch, avoiding his gaze. “Katsuki,” you oblige with a huff and a pout. “We have a problem.”

“Yes?” Bakugou asks, raising a brow your way as he lowers the weight’s he’d been lifting.

“The girls are onto us!”

Bakugou just stares down at you. “What does that mean?”

Exasperated at his obliviousness, you huff, stretching your hands out before you for emphasis as you stare up at him, wide-eyed. “They know I’ve been disappearing after class a lot. I tried to tell them I was training, which I guess we usually are but Jirou caught on to that being a lie too and now they’re onto us!”

Bakugou just blinks. “But what do you mean onto us?”

You let out a cry; “Katsuki! They’re gonna know we’re soulmates!”

“So?”

Pressing a hand to your face, you can’t believe your situation. Not only were the girls onto you, they knew you were lying, which made you feel awful and if they found out that you’d been spending all your time with Bakugou… well that was bound to bring up more questions. Questions you wouldn’t be able to avoid. Questions that would ultimately lead to them finding out Bakugou was your soulmate.

A hand gently reaches for your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face as Bakugou crouches to meet your eyes directly. 

“Why is it such a big deal?” He asks gently, an odd tone that you’re still not used to hearing from Bakugou yet. His face remains neutral but there’s patience lingering in his eyes as he waits for you to explain why you’re so upset.

And you do. Your lips part and the words are at the tip of your tongue until, suddenly, you can’t say anything.

Nothing leaves your lips.

“Y/N?”

“I…—”

“You don’t want them to know?”

Blinking, you bite your lip. “It’s not that, it’s just…” But again, you can’t find the words.

“You don’t trust them?”

“Of course I do,” you argue instantly, “they’re my best friends.”

“Okay…” he says slowly, and then his face twists, “are you… embarrassed of me?”

Meeting his gaze, you frown. “...No,” you whisper, and you mean the words.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I…” Shoulders falling, you frown. “Nothing… I guess.”

“So,” he says, “let them find out!”

Sputtering, you lean back; “it’s not like you’ve told Kirishima or any of the other guys!”

“It’s none of their business,” Bakugou shrugs, letting go of your wrists to set his hand on your head. “But if it makes you feel better, I'll tell them.”

You find yourself silent with disbelief once again, Bakugou’s words echoing in your mind paired with the look in his eyes. Just staring down at you.

Looking at you.

Like you’re his whole world.

-

“I’m sorry.”

They blink at you.

“I’m sorry about running away yesterday.”

Another blink.

“And I'm sorry I’ve been lying to you guys for the past few weeks.”

Slowly, all the girls glance at each other, trying to gauge the situation, before Uraraka is the first to speak up.

“It’s okay,” she assures with a smile, setting her hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “We appreciate you apologizing. We were just worried.”

“We wanna make sure you’re okay,” Jirou adds, smiling shyly at you. 

You take a look at all of their faces, seeing the sincerity staring back at you, before settling on Mina who still has a hint of hurt in her eyes but there’s also hope.

Well, here goes nothing.

“Bakugou’s my soulmate.”

Silence echoes, once again, before.

“What?”

“I knew it!”

“Bakugou!?”

There’s a mix of words, gasps of disbelief and shouts of question thrown out at you as all the girls rush towards you, swarming you, desperate for answers.

You laugh a little at their reaction, and that catches their attention.

“Y/N?” Mina asks, confused.

“I’ve been sneaking off to see him,” you explain to her, meeting her gaze, before letting your gaze drift. “I didn’t say anything because I’m still adjusting to it myself and I still don’t know how to feel about it. But I realized it isn’t fair to lie to you guys like that and that I want you guys to know because you matter so much to me.”

“Y/N…” Uraraka mumbles, tears welling in her eyes.

Her expression mimics many of the other girls before suddenly there’s a body slamming against your own, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you stumble back, trying to catch your footing.

“Oh. My. God!” Mina screams, you wincing at the sheer volume, as she pulls back, grinning brightly at you. “You have to tell us everything!”

-

The next morning, you’re sitting at the island in the kitchen eating breakfast, chatting to Mina, Jirou and Kirishima. The rest of the students trickle by, some making breakfast, some in the living room, all in their own conversations, until suddenly it all stops.

It takes you a moment to realize Kirishima, Mina and Jirou are no longer listening to you, head turned to their right and following their gaze, curious, you blink when you realize it’s Bakugou they’re staring at. It’s not like he’s doing anything particularly odd, nothing except for the fact that his gaze is directed on you and he’s heading straight for you and then suddenly, he’s right in front of you.

His gaze drifts from you, to your plate, back to you; “who made you that?”

“Nobody,” you say slowly, still stunned. “I made it.”

He’s grabbing the plate before you can say anything else, pressing a kiss to your forehead that has your cheeks burning before turning and making his way to the fridge.

“I’ll make you something better,” is all he says in explanation.

Your gaze slowly drifts from him to Mina and Jirou who are grinning widely at you, before there’s the shout of;

“Did Bakubro just kiss Y/N?!”

“And offer to make her breakfast!”

“Wait,” Kirishima suddenly calls after Sero and Denki, turning to Mina and Jirou, “why are two grinning!?”

“All the girls are!” Deku exclaims, pointing at Uraraka and Froppy in front of him.

“You guys knew?”

“Of course,” Mina grins, sending a wink Kirishima’s way before shrugging. “Isn’t that right, Bakugou? You and Y/N are soulmates!”

Everyone expects him to ignore her or tell her to shut up, but instead, he pauses in what he’d been doing (cracking an egg for you), turning his head over his shoulders to meet your gaze before smirking. 

“That’s right.”

And chaos follows.

Utter and complete chaos.

[sweetttsummer]

reachin' up for sunlight (just to be ripped out by the stem)

dr. robert chase x fem!reader

summary: Robert Chase and you fell somewhere, somehow, somewhat in love each other at what was the worst time of your lives. Now, a decade later, you've showed up at the one place he didn't think he'd see you, Princeton-Plainsboro, as a patient.

wc: 17k

tw: typical house medical stuff, Chase's family history (yes thats a tw) and some allusion to not a great family life for reader also!

author's note: this is a week late, but in my defense..its 17k words long. also, i'm not a medical doctor or even close to one so if you wanted accurate medical shit, wrong place! wrong person! this has not been beta read so apologizes!

have a request? ask away!

Dr. Chase took a moment to glance as he stepped out of the elevator door, and the next moment to breath in happy to be out of his own place. The long weekend off had done nothing for him, he felt exhausted. His weekend off had finally taken all the excuses he had left and he had pulled out the last box of things that his father had left him. 

It had been months (half a year? when did that happen?) at this point since he had learnt of his father’s death. When it first happened, it was like nothing had changed, he got the phone call, he remembers thanking the person for the information and then continuing on with his day. (Given the lawsuit that had found itself into his life, obviously it had bothered him more than he first thought.)

But then the box showed up. It had taken a week, and Chase had already learnt that his father left him no money (although it wasn’t shocking) so when the box showed up, he had been confused. Inside the packing bag, was a fairly decent sized briefcase. For the first week, the briefcase stayed on the dining room table. It’s not like he ate dinner in his apartment anyways. It haunted him often, and it took three days of it sitting there for him to realize it was the same briefcase he remembers his dad coming home from work with before he had left. That clarity was enough for him to take the briefcase and shove it against a nook, out of eye sight. And then came the long weekend half a year later, and what else was he suppose to do? Suddenly he was faced with the fact that five months later, the briefcase was still here and his father wasn’t. So he had picked it up back and opened it. 

There wasn’t a lot, the deed to a house his father had owned passed to Chase, some heirlooms he doesn’t recognize that he’s sure his father would be ashamed at the blank memory. The folder in which the deed rested in had been filled with other papers, some obviously were older than most. The already mentioned deed (and the pile of paperwork that comes with that), a pile of photos from before his father left, some mail that he’s sure his father’s lawyers had forwarded, and a bundle of letters, the top one doesn’t have a return address instead just “Robert” written in his fathers illegible writing. Papers that he couldn’t get himself to sort through so instead, he threw them on the table and moved along. The briefcase had ended up making its home at the front of his door, he had stared it down this morning before leaving thinking about easy it would be to slip his own things into it and use it. 

The beep of the elevator shakes him from the small turmoil he was suddenly throwing himself into. He forced his feet to start moving himself. 

The wooden bench was not meant to be sat on for hours: she had come to that conclusion about 20 minutes into camping in the hallway. That had been about an hour and a half ago according to her watch. Still, the lengthy medical file with her name poking out of the top was enough for her to deal with the numbness of her legs. The idea of wasting time did linger in the back of her head, she let out a small sigh and leaned her head up against the wall behind her, keeping her unfocused gaze on the ceiling. 

(Y/N) had found herself thinking about quitting her paralegal job at the law firm she had finally made a home at. Everything was going so well she had finally found herself a position that used her degree, and was in a town that she found the perfect balance of small but still full of things happening. Whatever bad luck she had when she was a teenager had finally been flushed out, or so she thought. 

About a week ago, she had fallen sick, quite literally. She had blacked out at her desk and came to by a small tap on her cheek, one of her bosses was crouched down near her obvious concern across her face. (Y/N) had felt embarrassed immediately and tried to sit up at her desk, but couldn’t seem to find her own strength and felt her face shake a little at the energy that was being used. Her struggle must have been obvious, as her boss had sent her home with a referral to a doctor she recommends. She was sent home by the first doctor with a simple answer of “stressed, dehydrated”, “You legal type work too hard, just give yourself the weekend” 

So she did. A whole weekend off, not answering her pager, her cellphone or home phone. It was a hard weekend, a reminder of the emptiness she had found herself in for adulthood. She had her job, her own pride, her health (for now), she tried not to think of the loneliness that lingered in the crawl spaces of her life. It would just lead to her dwelling on her teen years spent miles away, across oceans and railroads, with the one person who took in every piece of her and had shed light on the loneliness. No enough. 

She finally focused her gaze again and went back to staring at the tiles on the ceiling. She couldn’t think of him, she avoided it all these years and there’s no reason to think of it, of them, now. The ceiling is four by six tiles. She thinks to herself and it immediately brings her back to the ache of her butt against the wooden bench. A ding of the elevator torn her eyes from the ceiling and she went back to staring down the empty office’s glass door. 

Dr. Chase felt a few people slip out of the elevator behind him and he finally kicked himself into gear, moving towards the conference room. He was sure no one would be in yet, but he couldn’t stand sitting around anymore, better to hang out in the conference room where Foreman and Cameron might be able to pull him out of his own existential dread. Even if it’ll be through pissing him off, it would be better than this. 

Across the conference room, Chase noticed a small figure slightly slumped on the wooden bench. The color of her hair made his gut tighten just for a moment. The way it laid, the exact color, it all felt too close to someone he knew so long ago, someone he never thinks about anymore. It wasn’t on purpose, the way he immediately moved his feet towards the person on the bench. 

(Y/N) had heard the footsteps coming closer to her and ended up sitting up a little in her spot and looked up at the doctor who had stopped a little further than she thought he would. Whatever thoughts she was trying to avoid a few minutes ago, suddenly swarmed across her mind.  Dr. Chase didn’t even make it all the way over the person before his feet stopped him, it couldn’t be. 

There was a moment where they seemed to both size each other up, to debate if they had lost their minds. Chase couldn’t help the way his feet moved, they were use to walking towards her, not running away from her. 

“(Y/N)” Chase barely recognized his own voice. (Y/N) on the other hand had that voice burned into her brain. The lilt in the accent, the slight breathlessness laced in her name. It had been at least a decade since she heard him say her name. Still she could pick him out by voice alone. 

(Y/N) straightened her back against the wall in her sitting position and opened her mouth to reply. Nothing came out. Instead, the unanswered letters she had sent 10 years ago flash across her mind. She finally closed her mouth and kept her gaze up. He looked mostly the same, older of course, a decade apart will do that to a person. He had let his hair grow out, and despite the shocked look on his face, he still had the same rosy undertone in his cheeks. 

Chase took her silence to really look at her. He thinks of lingering teen hands, of giggling in the dark, of the only soft thing he had when everything was falling apart around him. There had been plenty of parties in his teenage years, so many girls, so many things he hid away but (Y/N). (Y/N) had been the one person he never spoke about, he had done his best to ignore the betrayal he felt when she left and she never reached out to him. He had packed it away. His father’s briefcase all packed with his things flashes in his mind. 

“What are you doing here?” Chase finally speaks up again, he rolled his shoulders a little and tried to put on a front, tried to pretend he wasn’t aching at the sight of her now. She still mostly looked the same, a little thinner than he thinks is natural for her, slightly hollow in her face in places that shouldn’t look like that. He tore his eyes away and glanced over to the empty conference room, House’s empty office. He ignored the voice telling him something was wrong. He had looked away and she could find her voice again. 

“Robert” (Y/N) finally spoke said the only thing that came to mind.  She didn’t know how to answer his questions, she wasn’t here to even ask his professional opinion, she had no idea he was even here. She had last seen him so far from here she never imagined he would have came all the way to New Jersey. 

Thankfully, the moment died quite quickly. Sadly, it was broken by the voice by House. 

“Chase, tell Wilson here..” House didn’t finish his sentence when he noticed Wilson had taken his chance to slip away, not wanting to hear whatever shitty thing House was going to yell across the hall to Chase. 

Chase clenched his jaw and kept his eyes trained on House as he limped over to where Chase stood. 

“Not now House,” Chase mumbled. 

“Dr. House?” (Y/N) tried to confirm if this was the man she was told could help her. House acted like he didn’t hear her and went to say something else to Chase before (Y/N) stood up quickly and held her medical file out towards House. 

“My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I was referred to you. I work under Stacy Warner and-“ (Y/N) was cut off by a small wave of fatigue. She felt her legs shake a little at the act of standing up so quickly. Chase didn’t think twice  when he moved a little closer, let his hand linger around (Y/N)’s  arms. He stopped himself before he could actually put his hand on her, there was something scary about the idea of touching her again after all this time. It felt like another lifetime when he had the chance to be able to touch her freely, and her disappearance from his life felt like enough for a sign that she didn’t want him to touch her anymore. 

His voice soften when he spoke, “Hey, you should sit back down,” he kept his hands lingering near his elbow as he came closer to her, a little nudge to get her back onto the bench. (Y/N) listens without thinking and falls back onto the wooden bench. Her medical file is still in her hand and slightly held up towards Dr. House. “If you could at least look at it, tell me anything please,” (Y/N) tried to get Dr. House’s attention. 

House didn’t seem to be looking at her, or the medical file. Instead he had his gaze trailed on Chase, on the hand that he pulled away and shoved into his coat pocket when he noticed the lack of response from (Y/N). House finally caught Chase’s eye for only a moment before Chase immediately looked away. It was the only response House really needed. It had been a while since something had Chase on edge. House had been wondering if after the lawsuit Chase had caught if he decided to simply shut down, but his actions now seemed to say otherwise. 

House barely glanced at (Y/N) before snatching the medical file from her hand. (Y/N) let out a small sigh and leaned her head against the wall again, her eyes closed for a moment in relief. Dr. House grabbed my file, he’s opening it, Stacy had told her this would be the hardest part and she did it. (She can’t help but internally laugh at the fact that the hardest part is Robert Chase standing. right. there. But Stacy couldn’t have known.) 

Dr. House barely glanced at the file before swing it towards Chase for him to take it. Chase clenched his jaw but took the file and held it closed. 

“You ever spend time in Australia?” Dr. House leans against his cane as he finally stares down (Y/N). 

(Y/N) couldn’t help but glance over to Chase who was staring down House. She thought of her time in Australia. She had met Robert by accident, when she was working some fancy event that he was attending as a teenager. He was so obviously a bad idea, but he made her laugh and she could see the insecurity behind whatever fake gusto he was displaying. She remembers how he had almost blown her off when he realized that he wasn’t going to be able to fuck her tonight. She tries not to dwell on the years they spent attached at the hip. She tries not to think of all his secrets she had been holding close to her heart. Sometimes, when she focuses enough, she can remember the first time he had confessed that he thinks(knows) that no one else will ever understand him the way (Y/N) did. 

“I lived in Australia for 5 years when I was 16. My mother wanted me away from my father, and apparently across the country wasn’t enough, so she took me to the further place she could think of. It’s been so long I doubt it’s connected, I just barely started getting sick.” (Y/N) answered keeping her gaze away from Chase. 

House let out a little “huh” before he opened his mouth to say something else. Chase immediately spoke up to stop him from asking what he knows House will ask, “No.”  House glanced over Chase’s shoulder and noticed Cameron and Foreman making their way over to the both of them. 

House snatched the medical file, that Chase still hadn’t open, and met Cameron and Foreman half way and pressed the file into Foreman’s hands. Chase took a moment to glance at (Y/N). He thought of how much it hurt when she left, he thinks of her promises that she would write, that being physically separated didn’t mean anything with them. She felt his eyes on her and pulled her eyes from the ceiling, Chase still seemed to have her memorized because he could tell she was going to say something about the situation and he wasn’t sure he could handle it. He immediately turned away and went over to where Cameron was speaking. 

“It says here she had a cold about a month ago….”

“She also lived in Australia when she was 15 and now she seems to be 30. Weird right?” House said in an obnoxious tone that had Chase glaring at him already. 

Cameron’s attention is pulled from the file as she looks at Chase slightly confused. “You know her?” She asked ignoring the glare Chase is wearing. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Foreman said as he quickly walked over to (Y/N). She seemed to be slightly falling asleep against the wall, her head falling a little before she realized and slightly stood up. Foreman grabbed her shoulder a little and shook her awake a little. House watched as Foreman made sure she was aware of where she was, he noticed the way Chase’s jaw clenched at Foreman’s attention and grabbed the file out of Cameron’s hand. 

“Get her a room, and come back to me with information.” House made his way back to his office. Cameron glances at Chase for only a second before she made her way over to (Y/N) and helped Foreman out. Chase didn’t move, keeping his eyes on House his jaw clenched, “Well. Go!” House motioned with his cane. 

Chase had waited for House to make himself comfortable in his office before he took off. He didn’t even mention to Cameron and Foreman that he wouldn’t be around. He just needs a few moments to himself, the irony of how much he didn’t want to be alone an hour ago wasn’t lost on him. Chase was staring at the inside of his locker, he had walked into the doctor locker room without thinking and opened his locker like he was going to go home. The locker was full of his own items and he tried to take inventory. Instead he lost himself in the memory last time he had spoken to (Y/N) face to face.

They were both 21, he never had a secret with (Y/N) since he first opened up. Often, he remembers feeling like she had came into his life and without any medical school, knew how to perform open heart surgery, knew his insides without any problems. This was the first time he had held a secret from her. He had confirmed his medical school entry date and had been scared to mention it to her. ow, he couldn’t avoid it anymore, he was leaving tomorrow and the guilt at not telling her soon ate him alive. For the last few years it was just them, together, Chase knows he has his sister, and really his mother is still alive, but neither of them seem to see Chase. They see his hands cleaning up their mess, his voice lecturing them about something new. Then there was (Y/N). Every time he imagines not having (Y/N) it feels like those first ten minutes he was locked in his father’s office for the first time. He feels the ache in his hands from pounding on the wooden door, the panic in his chest. 

“Bobby,” (Y/N)’s singsongy voice came from behind him. 

He had picked her favorite little coffee shop he had shown her. She always claimed she liked all his spots equally, but something about the beach side patio this one had always made her brighten up a little. He likes to think it has to do with the fact that they can easily walk to the little beach cave they use to spend time in. He hoped it was enough to make her not hate him. 

He knew he wasn’t just dependent on her, it was mutual. She rarely spoke of her family, of the father and brothers she was pulled away from in the States. When she did speak of her mother it was in the same tone Chase spoke of his own. Distain, slightly laced with the longing want for someone, anyone to care. They both chalked it up to teenage angst as they grew together, not wanting the other to think them broken. It was a precarious situation. Both afraid the other would leave if they were broken, both holding each other together. 

(Y/N) was, as always in Chase’s eyes, beautiful. She was a little frazzled, caught being late as she was between class and work.She went to lean down next to his seat and without thinking he pulled himself up a little more, knowing what was coming. 

“Thought I told you not to call me that,” Chase mumbled a little as she pressed her lips against his cheek in a swift kiss. When she straighten up again and started towards the seat across from him, Chase stopped her and reached out to grab her hand. She stopped her movement without question and he pressed a small kiss onto the top of her hand before dropping it and letting her settle into her seat. 

She hummed a little at his comment, “Would you believe me if I said I forgot?”

Chase laughed a little under his breath and rolled his eyes slightly playful. 

(Y/N) took a moment to glance around the coffee shop. When they first really became friends, Chase would insist on meeting up somewhere, not wanting to expose (Y/N) to his mother, and (Y/N) hadn’t questioned it not wanting to answer questions about her own mother. This coffee shop had been in the middle of all the trips and for a while it didn’t mean anything to her. Most of them didn’t matter to her, what mattered was the company with her. What mattered what light blonde hair and rosy cheeks and blue eyes set in that slightly mischievous glare. What mattered when it came to their breakfast dates was how Chase would slip his feet towards her under the table, press his leg against hers just to feel her. What mattered was how easily it was kiss for kiss with them. 

Chase pulls out the folder he had put together, he was prepared, had his whole schedule, what halls he’s being put into. He had taught himself to have it all ready. 

“I was going to tell you sooner, but..” Chase trails off and keeps his eyes locked on the top of her head as she skimmed throughout all the papers he had pushed across the table. (Y/N) didn’t say anything for a few minutes, as she looked through the papers. Chase kept trying to find an excuse as to why he waited last minute to tell her he was leaving for medical school. It was never a secret this is what he wanted, had never let himself dream about it out loud unless (Y/N) was the one listening. Now, he was felt the guilt of abandoning her for this dream looming in his throat. (Y/N) took a sip of her now cooled down beverage and pushed the papers back into the middle of the table. 

“Can I keep this paper? Or should I just write the address down? Can you even get mail in a college hall? ” She said keeping her eyes on the paper. She ignores the abandonment that’s growing in her own gut, tries to figure out what can work with them. She knew this was coming and she wished he had told her sooner, but at least he told her. 

“What?” 

“You need an address to be able to get mail, as far as I understand the postal service at least.” (Y/N) took a sip from her drink once more and kept her hands on the cup and squeezed it just a little. 

Chase couldn’t help but laugh a little at her. He glanced down to the way she was squeezing her take out cup, reading it for the anxious movement it was he put his hand onto the table, his palm facing up. The dread he felt a few minutes away seemed to simply melt away. Of course it was going to be easy, it always is with (Y/N). She would write, he would reply, and they would survive. It would be even easier than it was now, besides the fact that they’d never actually see each other. Okay so maybe not easier, but worth it anyways. 

(Y/N) looked at the palm open hand Chase had stretched towards her and immediately dropped her hand into his.  He tightened his grip on her hand for just a few seconds before relaxing his grip and keeping his gaze on their clasps hands. 

“Just write to my current address, I’ll be back every other weekend to see my sister. It’ll make it easier to come knowing your letters, hand delivered,  are waiting” Chase said trailing off a little at his final statement. (Y/N) hummed in reply. They both see it for what it is, an invitation to wait for him every weekend, to just hold on during those weekdays. 

Chase squeezed his eyes closed at the memory. It continued without his permission. He remembers the first weekend he came back to visit his sister. It was a weekend his father decided to play his part, he was there, asking questions after question about medical school. More importantly,  (Y/N) had written a letter explaining that she had to leave (the details were blurry but Chase knew how much she didn’t like talking about her family) but she would keep writing, and he should write back, she misses his words, really his voice but his words will do for now.  Chase had spent that whole weekend rereading the letter, had recited the letter in his mind when his father was ranting about the medical school Chase had picked. Even now, all these years later, he can see her handwriting, her words at the end, in his head. Sorry I’m not actually there, but let’s pretend I am, we’d be sitting in that little grove you’ve hidden away from your sister, with shitty coffee made by whatever maid your father hired this week. Go do that. I’ll find some shitty coffee on Saturday, maybe if we’re lucky we’ll be doing it at the same time. (Hope to ) See you soon. 

Sick of the flashbacks, Chase presses his locker door closed and looks around at the empty locker room.  

_______

Chase slipped into the chair next to Cameron in the conference office. He put down the tray of coffee and takes his own out from the slot before Cameron and Foreman grabbed theirs. 

“Thought I hired you as a doctor, not an intern?” House spoke as he wrote on the white board. 

Chase glared at his back for just a moment before using a second to try and stable his voice, “Good thing I didn’t get you a coffee then”

Foreman slid a copy of the medical file he had made towards Chase. Chase’s eyes went to the file, he stared down the name sticking out from the top. (Y/N) (Y/L/N). He grabbed the file and held it closed but moved his gaze to House who had finished his nonsense on the whiteboard. Now that he wasn’t blocking it, Chase could see it was a rough timeline. His grip on the file tightened and he heard Cameron let out a sad sigh. 

“At 16, (Y/N) moves to Australia and she leaves when she’s 21,” House took another marker and circles the area between those years, “ Which makes these the Robert years,” House moves around on his cane for a moment mimicking a pace.

“She got sick a week ago, how is this relevant?” Foreman knew it was useless to ask the questions but he couldn’t help it. 

“Why would it not be relevant?”House leaned against his cane, “Parasite,  STD, spider bite, botched abortion who knows what happened in Australia?” 

Chase took his eyes off the whiteboard at House’s words the glare in his eyes back. After a second he finally found the courage and opened up the medical file to pretend he could handle this. His eyes immediately focused on the photo copy of her drivers license photo. 

“Can’t you torture Chase on your own time?” Cameron mumbles a little as she opens her own file and seems to focus on something inside of it. “Botulism fits most the symptoms?” 

“Botched abortion could have left the little Chase attached to her uterus, growing this whole time.” House ignored Cameron and kept his eyes on Chase. Chase looked up and gave House the most bored look he could muster. He couldn’t get himself to tell House anything. 

“It’s been too long for Botulism, but heavy metal poisoning could mimic it depending on the metal?” Foreman stated although he knows only Cameron seems to be paying attention.  

“She’s a paralegal who lives in a fairly decent area, where would she be exposed to that much of any heavy metal?” Cameron shut the file and finally looked at House who was staring down Chase still. At this point House typically picks a side and decided something. House gives Cameron a look of confusion, “Sorry” He hisses a little sarcastically “haven’t heard from my whole team, can’t decide just yet.” 

Chase didn’t think as he ran his thumb over the little black and white photo. He was listening just barely and realized both the options would give House an excuse to go diving into (Y/N)’s current life. He couldn’t seem to focus on the actual symptoms but when House hissed he looked up and noticed all three pairs of eyes on him. 

Cameron’s pity was written across her face and Chase clenched his jaw at how bad it made him feel. Foreman looked away immediately and focused on House instead. “Both can be found with blood testing,” House finally gave up and leaned back in his chair, cane sitting between his legs. 

All three doctors took the dismissal for what it was and stood up. House cleared his throat and stared at Chase a little dumbfounded, “Not done with you.” House waved away Cameron and Foreman. Cameron patted Chase’s arm as she passed him and exited, Foreman right behind her. House made his way into his office, Chase behind him. 

_____ 

In the hospital room, (Y/N) sat up in the bed a little at the sight of Dr. Cameron and Dr. Foreman. The last few hours had been hard for her, sitting in the dull hospital bed reliving those few moments with Chase over and over. She had gone from shocked to angry to sad to shocked multiple times and now she’s landed on simply dazed. She saved her lamenting of those years for dark nights in her empty apartment, for dreams that she pretended weren’t memories and now she couldn’t do that. The second she saw him, she had remembered the weeks she’d spent waiting for a reply, she remembers writing letter after letter, and never getting once back. There was a year of her life that she swore she spent more time at her local post office and PO box than her own little shitty apartment. It had taken a little over a year before she wrote her final letter to Chase. She wasn’t sure why he never replied, wasn’t sure what happened, but whatever it was, she wanted the best for him. She had ended this letter different than most, no references for a future, instead a simple goodbye. 

“We’re going to need a few samples, blood, urine, the simple stuff” Dr. Cameron smiled at her. 

(Y/N) liked Dr. Cameron so far. She had been polite, and managed to make some small talk when she and Dr. Foreman had helped get her settle into the hospital. She spoke kindly to the nurses and despite the awkwardness that came from the fact that everyone seemed to know Chase, Cameron treated (Y/N) as well as she can imagine a doctor could. 

“If this is for drugs, I’ve already admitted to smoking weed in the past but its been years, and my file is completely up to date and correct about any medication I have taken,” (Y/N)   said as Foreman grabbed some tools close by and motioned for her arm. (Y/N) let him take it and looked away as he took some blood. 

Cameron noticed the way (Y/N) seemed a little squeamish at the needle and moved to look at her. “We’re going to look for any sort of toxicity within your blood. You might have been exposed to something that’s causing your condition.” 

(Y/N) had a confused look on her face for a moment she went to open her mouth to speak back, try and understand what she possibly been exposed to. Cameron watched as (Y/N) seemed to lose her train of thought and in seconds, (Y/N) started to seize. 

_____ 

“I don’t want to talk about her,” Chase started once House had settled himself into his chair. 

“Really? Couldn’t tell,” House moved a little in his chair, “Problem is, you need to do your job, which involves, speaking.” House emphasized at the end of his sentence. 

“Just let me run the blood tests, or any of the lab work, I’m sure Cameron would like a break from the lab.” 

House took a moment to rest his feet up on his desk and stared Chase down for a moment. 

“I didn’t do anything to her, I haven’t seen her in years. She’s sick and I have nothing to do with it.” Chase said. He’s been repeating the same phrase in his head since he first heard Cameron and Foreman debating the diagnosis. She’s sick. She’s sick. She’s sick. 

“What are her symptoms?” House asks. 

Chase rolled his eyes, knowing full well that House had already memorized the file. When he got no answer, House stood back up and walked towards Chase and snatched the medical file Chase had been gripping this whole time. “Go away, you’re no fun to me.” 

House went to his office door and held it open, waiting for Chase to leave. Instead, Cameron filled the doorway, “She seized.” Cameron was obviously out of breath, “She’s been given lorazepam and-“ 

Chase took the medical file back from House before interrupting Cameron speaking, “Brain stem seizure could be a possibility” he mumbled a little under his breath as he opened the file and ran his thumb across the photo again and glanced at the medical tests already performed by previous doctors. “She’s always had high blood pressure,” Chase kept the file open but looked up to meet House’s gaze. House took a moment and focused his gaze on Chase before turning to Cameron

“Put her on Reteplase,” House started to walk away. 

“We should do an MRI first, it might not be a brain stem seizure, Reteplase can-” Chase was cut off before he could finish. 

“You know where the patient is, you know where the MRI machine is. Do it yourself.” House looked at Cameron “Give her Reteplase and monitor her”

_____ 

Chase didn’t pray that often anymore, but he almost went to the hospital chapel when Cameron said he would help him get the MRI before she gave her Reteplase. He tried to ignore the obvious pity Cameron had when she said she’d help him. He’s sure he looked like a kicked puppy when he realized House was going to force him to see (Y/N) no matter what, at least it’s working to his advantage. 

Cameron slipped (Y/N) into the MRI room and Chase felt himself sit up straighter in the computer chair as he watched them chit chat with each other. He didn’t think about his actions as he pressed the speaker button to be able to hear them. 

“Montgomery’s library is a little bigger than the this towns, but I think the university library tends to be the best for content,” (Y/N) had been speaking in a slightly out of breath tone. Chase wondered about her oxygen stats and leans forward on his seat to really look at her. Cameron’s voice was in the background as she replied to (Y/N)’s comment but Chase wasn’t pay enough attention to make out the words. Still, Chase felt a burst of joy at how easy Cameron connected with patients. 

Instead, he noticed the way (Y/N)’s hand shook gently, a slight tremor, another symptom he knew. He noticed the dark red nail color she had on, slightly chipped and obviously done by her own hand since her non dominant hand seemed a little messier than the other. The fact that she had already pulled Cameron into a full conversation effortlessly was also familiar. He remembered how easy it was to just listen to her. When they were young he remembers telling her he hated the silence, he had so much of it. She had always feared over talking, taking too much of the space. He smiled a little at how much stayed the same when he noticed the sheepish look on (Y/N)’s face at the fact Cameron had to stop their conversation to work. Cameron had slipped back into the computer room once she had gotten (Y/N) settled. 

There was a moment of silence as Cameron checked the systems. “She’s nice,” Cameron finally broke the silence. 

“Didn’t like her because she was nice,” Chase couldn’t help the way his defense seemed to come up. He still felt like he was in the room with House. If he looked over he’s sure he would catch Cameron rolling her eyes. Chase opened his mouth to apologize, maybe even to thank Cameron for her help, but was interrupted by a voice through the speaker. 

“Dr. Cameron, I should have probably mentioned that enclosed spaces aren’t exactly my favorite” (Y/N)’s voice held a slightly nervous shake. 

Chase clenched his jaw and looked at the machine throughout the window, he felt Cameron’s eyes on the side of his head and he reached his hand out to the speaker button and thought about what to say. His hand fell short once he found his own thoughts and he looked over at Cameron, “Ask her to tell you about the worst movie she’s watched recently,” He said in a slightly whisper, as if (Y/N) could hear through the glass and the machine. 

Cameron turned to glare at Chase but the look fell from her face after a moment, he had turn his gaze back to (Y/N) in the machine. His hand was resting near the speaker button, she could tell he wanted to do something, felt the small bouts of desperation that slightly radiated off him. Without thinking, she reached past his hand and pressed the speaker button. 

“No worries (Y/N), close your eyes and stay still it’ll go by really quickly” Cameron took her finger off the button. 

Cameron watched on the screen as (Y/N) settled and closed her eyes. The tension of the enclosed spaced was written across her face and when she glanced out the window and saw (Y/N)’s hand in a tight fist. Chase’s hand balling itself into a fist stole Cameron’s attention for just a second. 

Cameron let herself start looking at the scan and for a few seconds she had focused in enough to forget the situation around her, until she went to point something out to Chase and he seemed to still be staring through the glass focused at the way (Y/N) was relaxing her fist just to clench it again. Cameron had felt like she had learnt everything there was to know about Chase in the years working with him. Even sleeping with him hadn’t really taught her anything about him. She had used that experience as an excuse to write him off completely, an arrogant pretty boy doctor with daddy issues, they were everywhere in this field. Now she was faced with a quick reevaluation of him, had to put him into this new light. His other hand rested against his mouth in that same stubborn way he rested when he was resisting the urge to speak up. She had blown off the obvious connection with Chase and (Y/N) as a teenage year mistake that Chase was too proud to face, but that didn’t explain why he seemed to care that she was uncomfortable in the machine, explain the motion Cameron had caught of his thumb tracing (Y/N)’s picture. In just a few seconds Cameron made her decision and reached out to press the speaker button. 

“Hey (Y/N), do you like movies?” Cameron said in a soft voice and watched through the window as (Y/N)’s fist unclenched a little, Chase pulled his hand away from where it rested near the speaker button. 

(Y/N) hummed in response obviously doing her best to take the distraction given to her. 

“I saw this terrible movie in theaters last week.” Cameron continued trying to search for the last movie trailer she had seen on television to sustain her lie “Worst thing ever, something about calls? Ever heard of it?” She leaned back in her chair once she heard (Y/N)’s voice in a steady stream start to talk about what movie she thinks Cameron was referring to.  

She let go of the button and glanced over to Chase. (Y/N)’s voice was gentle in the room and Cameron noticed the way Chase settled back into his seat, and finally started to look at the work on his screen trying to catch anything in the scan. For a few minutes it went on like this, Cameron and Chase exchanging mumbles of “nothing here” at each scan loading, (Y/N)’s voice through the speaking filing the emptiness. There was a moment of lull in which (Y/N) had tampered off, slightly embarrassed at how quickly she had let herself start to ramble. 

Without taking a chance to look away from the scans, Chase reached his hand out, pressed the speaker button and, out of an old habit, something that was buried inside him from years ago, spoke out “Where’s the unmute button?” 

In the MRI machine (Y/N) felt herself lose her breath at the words. The phrase always lingered in her mind when she needed the boost of confidence even all these years later. She wishes she could remember when the joke had started, the first time Chase had joked about how she stops herself without any warning, how jarring it felt like someone had pressed the mute button on their conversation.The insecurity in her own voice had slowly started to disappear when she realized that Chase really did like hearing her ramble, it took him out of his own mind. He had started asking for the unmute button as a joke whenever he felt the heavy air of silence and eventually it just became a phrase she took as a sign that she was being listened to, that she, herself, was being listened to. 

She didn’t know what was happening outside the machine so she assumed that the tension she felt came from hearing the phrase. She let out a small breath and closed her eyes once more before she started speaking again. This was something she could do, she understood her role when she heard “unmute button” even after all this time. 

Cameron heard (Y/N)’s breath hitch for just a second before she continued on her rambling. Almost in tune with her, Chase froze until she started rambling again. 

Cameron opened her mouth and started to say something, “Chase..” She tried to find the right words. 

“It’s been ten years, it really doesn’t matter.” Chase didn’t let her continue. He leaned back into the office chair and let out a small sigh  “The brain stem looks completely clean, not a single sign of seizure” He sounded obviously defeated. 

Cameron didn’t say anything but instead stared at the scans. She tried to find an obvious sign of anything wrong in the scans they already had. Before she got the chance to speak Chase stood up and rushed out of the computer room. 

Cameron pressed the speaker button “Okay (Y/N), we’re all set, I’m going to come help you out.” 

—— 

 Chase knew that Cameron could handle (Y/N) and while the idea of them alone made him a little nervous, the idea of having to face (Y/N) was more nerve wracking. Instead, Chase had stopped by and visited Foreman in the lab to check on the samples. Foreman glanced up thinking it was something important. When he noticed it was just Chase he went back to reading the sample slide. Chase took a stool out from under the counter and sat next to Foreman, but kept himself facing the counter. He didn’t know exactly what he was here for, Foreman seemed to have it almost finished and they had rarely hung out and chit chatted for fun. 

“Brain stem is clean.” Chase finally spoke, best to land on the one thing they do have in common: the patient. Chase ignored the way his gut tightened at the idea of (Y/N) as a patient. She’s sick. She’s sick. She’s sick.  

“The toxicity report came back clean also,” Foreman let out a small sigh as he leaned back and crossed his arms, “Her liver functions seem fine, her blood seems a little high in white blood cells but she just got over a cold a few weeks ago.” 

Chase had his hand in his coat pocket, squeezing his fist for a moment as he tried to understand what was happening. 

“You’re stupid for letting House get to you this much,” Foreman mumbled a little as he started cleaning up the blood samples he had. 

“Like he’s never gotten to you?” Chase felt himself slip back into the amour he had built himself so long ago. Right, this is why he sought out Foreman. He exists as a reminder of the person he had crafted himself into here.  

“I hide it better than you,” Foreman mumbled a little before stopping his clean up, “Go home, or go see the girl, but stop mopping around, it’s embarrassing” Foreman shrugged a little as if it would make the statement softer. 

“Not that easy,” Chase mumbled as he glanced at the tests that Foreman had ran. 

There was a soft click before another voice took over the room,  “Actually, it is.” House spoke, “Cameron says she’s stable,” House glanced at the results to the tests that sat on the counter and turned to leave the room. “Keep your pagers on” House yelled from the hallway. It was the closest to a dismissal they have ever gotten from him. 

_____

Chase had tried to go home. He sat in the locker room with Cameron and Foreman and they all grabbed their stuff. He mimicked the motions, took off his doctors coat, grabbed his items ,Cameron even offered him a ride home, but he couldn’t do it. Foreman cupped his shoulder for a second before he left and Cameron just mumbled a little, “Get some sleep” when they both finally left. The silence of the locker room was enough to push Chase out the door, but not enough to stop his feet from heading to the third floor where (Y/N)’s room was. 

Once he got to the room he realized he didn’t know his plan. It had been so long since he didn’t feel prepared, since he felt ungrounded. His tether had been cut loose for a short time when his father died, but he quickly recovered, shoved the thoughts away and weighted himself down enough that he didn’t think anything would shake him again. He recalled the way (Y/N) had been sitting on that stupid wooden bench this morning, how silly all that tethering had been. How easily he felt himself fall back into her gravity and they haven’t even spoken more than two words to each other. Chase moved away from the closed door and debated his next steps. He didn’t know if she was awake, if she would even want to see him. He glanced around the hallway and after a moment pulled out his wallet from his pocket. He let it fall open and shoved his fingers into one of the extra slots. The wallet was slipped back into his pocket and he slowly folded the worn piece of paper. The creased were slightly discolored from the constant pressure in his wallet but it still read the same words. He didn’t completely unfold the letter, instead just flopped the first crease up, exposing the signature on the letter. Always yours, (Y/N). Chase ran his finger across the name, it was the only thing he let himself keep from the whole situation. He had taken his position at the hospital and made the decision to get rid of all his reminders of (Y/N), it was better, safer. Yet, the letter never left his wallet, he had pulled it out so many times and thought about tossing it, but this was the last thing he had of her. The only thing left that  confirmed he didn’t make her up so he kept it. He started to pull the whole letter open when a nurse slipped out of the room. 

“Oh, Dr. Chase sorry do you need Ms. (Y/L/N)? She just fell asleep for the night, I thought all the tests were done and she was little shaken up so I gave her something to help her sleep.” The nurse grimaced a little, House’s team wasn’t known for kindness. 

“No, it’s fine. Tests are done for tonight,” Dr. Chase folded the letter as he spoke and slipped it into his pocket before nodding a little at the nurse and trying to act like he wasn’t scared as he started towards the door, “Just checking in” He didn’t let the nurse say anything else as he finally stepped into (Y/N)’s room. 

The room was the same as every hospital room around it, not exactly dark, but no longer well lit, soft beeps breaking whatever silence there was. Still, Chase tried to look around the room instead of at the girl laying fast asleep in the bed. Chase clenched his jaw when he heard the smallest shuffle from the bed. He finally let his eyes linger on (Y/N). She was fast asleep, fist in a slight curling position near her face. Without thinking Chase let out a small breath of air and felt himself move over to the side of the bed. Chase raises his hand to uncurl (Y/N)’s fist a little but stops short. Throughout the day he had stopped himself the few times he was close to touching her, he thinks of the warmth that barely came off of her when he first saw her stumble a little. Thinks of Cameron’s easy hands helping (Y/N) settle into the MRI machine. (Y/N) shuffles a little more in her sleep and it finally breaks something in Chase, she had always been restless in her sleep. He lets his hand reach past her fist and instead lets his fingers move a few strands that rested on her forehead. The warmth of her skin tingles a little against his fingertips.

“Hi darling,” Chase whispers a little when his hand trails down her hair a little, letting it drop onto the bed when he gets to the end of the strand.  He felt a small shake in his knees and pulled his hand away, letting himself plop into the plastic chair that was in every room. He squeezed his hand into a fist and felt a few tears start to appear in his waterline. He leaned his head back a little to stop the tears from completely dropping before finally letting himself completely look her over. Despite the obvious signs of something unhealthy lingering in her features, she mostly looks the same, a little older, but still the face he knew all those years ago. Chase didn’t think as he pulled himself and the chair to be closer to the bed. He leaned forward in the seat and let his hand settle near the end of her hair. He lets the lack of movement from her push him to reach his fingers out and slightly twist the end of her hair. It’s not the touch he wanted, but it was something. He let himself twirl the strands a little before letting his eyes completely rest on her face. Finally, he broke the sound of the machines around him. 

“House is a dick, but he’s good. The whole team is really, don’t tell Foreman I said that,” Chase let out a small huff of a laugh before he drops the strand of hair he was toying with. He let his hand rest on her bed, not touching her, but only a small motion would bring his finger against her arm. 

“Seems like you like Cameron, she’s good with people, although the movie trick was mine, I’m sure you remember it. I think you’ve talked me through more movies than I’ve actually watched.” Chase’s voice stayed low as he spoke. 

It seemed a little ridiculous if he thought of it too hard, talking to someone who wasn’t listening, but still it was (Y/N), he had never learned how not to talk to her. He spent what felt like a few minutes explaining how he ended up on House’s team. It was a superficial telling, wanting to avoid the pieces that still felt tender, his sister, his parents. It didn’t take long for Chase to feel himself fall into the familiar place that was (Y/N)’s side, even if she asleep. 

Chase forgets how quickly time passes in a hospital when you aren’t working. How the windows barely give away time and people are always moving so it’s hard to notice when hours past. The only thing that indicated the passing of time was the nurses who slipped into the room every once in a while, in the same rotation they’ve been doing their whole careers.Every nurse took a moment to eye Dr. Chase, trying to understand why he was here, and then proceeded to explain what they were doing like he was just another family member. It wasn’t until a nurse showed up with an extra blanket and tossed it at the end of the bed that Chase accepted his fate. He didn’t give the nurse any indication of a thanks but grabbed the blanket as she was walking out. He closed his eyes and in the dark, he felt the nerve to reach out and rest his hand in her empty one. 

_____

Dr. Chase sat slumped in the chair and Cameron tried to bite her tongue at how he tried to switch his clothing to make it look like he’d gone home, but she knew that shirt had been a spare he left in his locker. The spare blanket he had tucked under the chair wasn’t obvious to anyone that hadn’t been in and out of the room, but still couldn’t fool Cameron. His eyes were droopy, but any attention he had left in his half asleep state was completely on (Y/N)’s hand interlaced with his. Cameron stood for a second and debated coming in and bothering him, she had assumed that (Y/N) was awake when she first passed by the door, hearing Chase low whisper and she felt a strange pride in her chest that Chase had finally gotten the nerve to speak to her. The pride was undeserved, apparently as (Y/N) was dead asleep and seemed to have been like that for a while now. When she realized Chase had leaned a little closer to the bed and was bringing (Y/N)’s hand up in his own she quietly tapped on the door to make her presence known. She mentally kicked herself when she realize how quickly Chase had slipped his hand out of (Y/N)’s. 

“Hey, just swinging by to check on her, thought she was awake,” Cameron’s pity seeped into her voice no matter how much she tried to fight it. Most the time, the family’s found some sort of comfort in it, the care that this stranger of a doctor had. Chase, was not most people. 

“She’s been asleep for a few hours now, a nurse just came in twenty minutes ago and did the bare minimum,” Chase mumbled as he leaned back into his hospital chair. If it had been any other person within the hospital he probably wouldn’t have spoken, but Cameron had helped him with the MRI, risked a verbal berating from House for him, and never once brought up how he had embarrassed himself after a one night stand with her. Cameron put her hands into her doctor pockets and stayed near the doorway. 

“Well, you know how House gets about the nurses,” Cameron rolled her eyes a little at how often Dr. House had groaned about the fact that nurses mess up, and how own team’s mistakes are his but he hated having to account for random nurse’s mistakes. 

Cameron moved into the room a little more, reaching for the clipboard at the end of (Y/N)’s bed. She took a second to pretend to read the information on the clipboard as if it gave anything new to the case. She glanced back up at Chase when she realized he had the same look she had seen a million times before, the same look she saw once in her own face, when she lost her husband. It felt wrong to see it across Chase’s face, to know this doctor who she found fairly intelligent (at least when he wanted to be), and charming (again, when he wanted to be), was falling into a pit of despair over a women none of his coworkers even knew about, a women who he claims he hasn’t seen in ten years. 

“She’s not bad enough for that look yet. We’re going to figure it out.” Cameron tried to make a joke but instead was met with Chase’s subtle glare. She let the joke sit in the air and decided there was nothing else she could do and started towards the door. She had barely reached the handle when she finally heard him speak. 

“I think I’ve made it fairly clear it wasn’t great after my dad left ” Chase spoke through gritted teeth. Cameron let her hand linger on the door handle, but she stayed frozen. “She was the only thing I had left to hold onto when I was a teenager” 

Cameron turned a little so she could face him but didn’t come closer. It felt a little silly, like trying to approach a lion during a safari trip, or a bunny in the backyard she didn’t want to scare him out of finally saying something. She noticed Chase had leaned his head back against the wall and had his own hands wringing within each other, resting every few moments in a sort of prayer position. She was sure if she looked closer she’d notice his eyes closed. 

Cameron realized it was her turn to speak, confirm she wanted to hear this. “She’s not Australian?” Cameron pointed out the only thing that felt safe. It had made no sense they knew each other all that time ago and when she looked at the file there was no relevant information as to why (Y/N) was in Australia, no past doctor seemed to find it important enough to ask and House knew better than to actually think her few years in Australian were important to the case. Chase shook his head against the wall. 

“She was in Australia because her family, I can’t….” He kept shaking his head and Cameron understood. That isn’t mine to tell, it’s hers, he was saying. 

“She was working at this shitty dinner that was down the block from my neighborhood. I’d always meet my friends there, to avoid them running into my mother. One day she was just there like she had always been around, too young to be working there but she knew someone needed to bring money in, she had problems I hadn’t even thought of but that didn’t matter, doesn’t matter even now. She just….” Chase finally pulled his head forward and kept his gaze on (Y/N)’s sleeping face. 

“She made sense, maybe not right away. But I kept showing up and she kept telling me she wasn’t going to sleep with me,” He laughed a little and Cameron realized he wasn’t actually telling her the story, he was just thinking out loud “I kept lying, saying that it didn’t matter to me,” His hand reached out a little as he tucked his fingers under (Y/N)’s resting hand on the bed, “And then one day, it wasn’t a lie. It didn’t matter to me, she just wormed her way into it all. She was the one thing I had that wasn’t ruined by anything, she saw me and nothing else around me.” 

“You cared about her,” Cameron whispered a little, trying to remind Chase he had an audience. 

“Yeah, something like that.” Chase finally caught Cameron’s gaze and flinched a little at the amount of pity that was seeping out her. “Not that it really mattered. We were kids and I had to go to medical school, just had to leave…” Chase stops and Cameron knows the implication, he needed to leave his parents house. “I told her and she took it well, thought it would be harder. She told me we’d be fine, she’d write and I’d come visit every weekend and we’d survive and once we were both away from our parents, on our own completely, we’d finally figure out whatever it was between us.” 

Cameron tilted her head a little trying to make sense of what Chase meant. 

“You weren’t together?” She finally just asked. 

“I had a reputation, she’s never been native” Chase shrugged a little knowing it was well earned, “And I think she knew we both needed each other more than we needed to be together,” The vulnerability was threatening to rip his chest out, but he couldn’t handle keeping it inside anymore. Cameron wasn’t, would never be, (Y/N) but she was still kind, still understood that Chase wasn’t always a dick. Cameron stayed quiet, waiting for Chase to keep going, he hadn’t gotten to the end, the piece that really mattered to her. After enough silence Cameron finally decided she needed to say something to push Chase into finally explaining why they had gone ten years without speaking. 

“I’m sure she’ll forgive you for not coming back,” Cameron whispered in her softest tone. 

Chase clenched his jaw and looked away from the gaze he had on Cameron. Shame was a feeling Chase had quickly learnt to hide away. He leant quickly that pity doesn’t get you much and that shame would never do anything useful for him. Now, the insecurity of being left by the one person he cared about was seeping into his gut. 

“I came back.” Chase said through gritted teeth, “I went home every weekend for my first year in medical school. She said she would write and the first weekend I went there was a letter  so I came back and waited for another letter for a whole year. Whenever there wasn’t one, I would reread the first letter.” Chase shook his head a little before stealing his hand back from under (Y/N)’s hand. He stood up and clear his throat, “It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s been years.” Chase cleared his throat and fidgeted with his tie before he started towards the door. 

Cameron felt herself stunned at the sudden shift in tone. She didn’t expect it to be Chase who was left high and dry. For a second it all seems to add up in her head, of course Chase was the one who held on longer, was it not just a few months ago that he was trying to make something out of the one night stand they had? She forgot how soft Chase could be when he wanted to be, forget that underneath the pretty boy doctor facade, he was someone who raised his sister and his mother, someone who spent his childhood praying for something better, for help. Cameron glanced at the girl who laid in the hospital bed and felt a twinge of anger that this girl had hurt Chase. 

___

(Y/N)  winced a little at the pressure of the needle against her skin as Dr. Foreman mumbled an apologize.  She wasn’t exactly sure what happened overnight but the tension in the room had somehow ballooned into something more and even in her state, she felt it. She had learnt at a young age to be able to detect when something was unsaid, that something wasn’t right. After Dr. Foreman pulled the needle and she felt the pressure release from her back, she turned herself over a little to look at Dr. Cameron and Dr. Foreman. She tried to silence the whisper in her head that there was typically one more doctor on the team, tried to ignore the way he seemed to exist on the edges of her whole visit. The visitors chair had been pulled away from the wall when she woke up and she had stared at it for a few minutes, trying to create an apparition of the person she hoped had filled the chair while she was asleep. She noticed the extra blanket across her feet, the one part she always struggles to keep warm. Dr. Foreman had been exactly what she had expected from a doctor, what she has been dealing with for weeks, she had come to rely on him for the real medicine of it all, once she realized Dr. House didn’t seem to interact with patients. Dr. Cameron on the other hand, knew something and cared, (Y/N) wasn’t sure when it happened, but she felt the tension from her the whole day so hard. Foreman and Cameron were speaking to each other and when they started walking away (Y/N) finally spoke up. 

“Dr. Cameron?” (Y/N) cringed a little at how dry her voice sounded. Dr Foreman seemed to look at Dr. Cameron for just a moment before he walked away, obviously trying to get some sort of work done. (Y/N) kicked herself a little at the fact that she didn’t plan out what to say. She took a moment to sit up as much as possible in the hospital bed and felt herself shake a little at the energy it took. She noticed the way Dr. Cameron seemed to take in every shake and movement, ever vigilant in the face of her job. 

There was silence for a moment before (Y/N) cleared her throat a little and squeezed her eyes shut. For the last two days every test had brought her closer to the idea that this was it, that she had tried every option, that the world had give her this last chance to be able to tie up any loose ends in her life. Robert being at this hospital was a sign enough for her, she had nothing left but to figure this out so when she died she at last had the answers. She had been debating how to do it, focused on every outcome instead of the needles and the blood and the shitty hospital food. She hoped over and over every hour since she last heard his voice during that MRI that she’d get the chance to ask him directly. She even dreamt of him, the first time in years, of his voice, of him, close by. 

“(Y/N)?” Dr. Cameron said her name but her eyes were glancing at the machines to try and figure out if something was wrong. (Y/N) shook her head lightly at the questions interlaced in Dr. Cameron’s voice. 

“Everything is the same,” (Y/N) swallowed a little and braced herself, “I know I don’t have the right to ask you, but Robert, uh-“ (Y/N) ignored the pressure in her chest at the vulnerability she was going to force out of her. She noticed how quickly Cameron seemed to straighten up at the name. 

“(Y/N),” Cameron shook her head a little. 

“He has every right to not want to see me,” (Y/N) always knew her relationship with Chase was a stroke of luck anyways, “He knew me for only a few years so long ago, I’m sure it meant nothing but,” (Y/N) stopped herself against and tried not to cringe. 

At this Cameron furrowed her brows a little, it didn’t make sense to her. Meant nothing? Cameron thought of the way Chase held onto (Y/N)’s hand when she slipped in, thinks of the way he couldn’t work knowing she was uncomfortable in the MRI machine. Something wasn’t adding up, and Cameron was trying to put it together when (Y/N) kept speaking. Cameron seemed to have forgotten how quickly (Y/N) can tumble into rambling. 

“I’ll die, it’s fine,” She paused, “Well not fine of course, but I think it’s time I accept it. And all I want is to understand what happened. I know I don’t deserve it, if he wanted to give me an explanation he would have answered one of my letters but I’m dying now, so maybe…” (Y/N) trailed off when she noticed Cameron’s furrow eyebrows. 

“Sorry I thought you guys are friends, or that maybe he mentioned something, which is stupid now that I’m thinking about it,” (Y/N) felt herself slide a little more into the bed to try and escape the situation. 

Dr. Cameron shook her head softly and whatever anger she had felt when Chase told the story seemed to leak out of her, “Hey, I get it.” Cameron whispered a little, “I’ll talk to him, but…” She trailed off to figure out the right thing to say. Finally she just let out a huff, “One letter isn’t a good enough excuse to leave someone hanging,” She spoke in her softest voice. 

“One letter?” (Y/N) swallowed and pressed her fingers against her eyes to try and subdue the headache. “I wrote over and over and over.” 

Cameron glanced at the door and decided she needed to figure this out.

___ 

“You had no right and you know it,” Dr. Chase was snipping at Cameron. 

“She thinks she’s going to die, and she thinks you’ve abandoned her!” Cameron huffed a little. 

She wasn’t sure why she always put herself into things that were none of her business, but Chase is her friend, at least she thinks he is. She’s never been good at denying someone’s dying wish, although she’s sure that not many people deal with dying wishes this often. She had sat with (Y/N) for about an hour, learnt about what it meant to be pulled from the people who loved you at such a young age, what it meant to have a parent that saw you as nothing more than a weapon against others. Cameron kept a score each time she heard (Y/N) mention writing another unanswered letter. She had heard the way (Y/N)’s voice seemed to soften a little around Chase’s name.

“She’s not going to die.” Chase clenched his jaw.

“She said she wrote, she mentioned it over and over. Maybe the post office couldn’t deliver? It was the 90s and who knows how Australian post offices even work! You need to talk to her, really, you’re both just missing each other.” Cameron felt herself sparked within the story she had heard from (Y/N). “She’s so afraid, and her mother just” 

Cameron was immediately cut off by Chase’s cold voice. 

“Don’t try and make me understand her. I know about her mother, I know her, better than I have ever known anyone. You treat her as a patient for a few days and suddenly you think you get it?” Chase felt the anger of the situation he had been pushing away bubble in his chest. “She’s been the voice in my head my whole life, I didn’t exist before she said my name. I’ve seen her everywhere all these years. I thought I had finally lost my mind when she sitting on that bench, and instead it’s something so much worse. Don’t get involved Alison. Don’t speak on things that are bigger than you’ll ever understand.” 

Cameron opened her mouth to fight back when Foreman opened the conference room and stuck his head in. “She’s having trouble swallowing, the tremors are getting worse.” He ignored the obvious tension in the room between Chase and Cameron. 

“If you really know her, you know she wouldn’t have left the way you think she did. ” Cameron whispered before heading towards the door with Foreman. Chase ignored the comment and instead stared at the door where they were both leaving. Cameron was right, he knew her, knew she wouldn’t have abandoned him with a single letter filled of promises. He knows her. 

“Is she having trouble speaking?” Chase grabbed her file off the table and without thinking, pressed his thumb against her photo like before as he read the file, trying to make it fit with what is turning in his mind. Whatever Foreman responded was ignored as Chase pushed his way throughout the conference room and headed to where he assumed House was. He wasn’t sure if Foreman and Cameron were following, but it didn’t matter at this point. 

In the clinic Chase pushed into the room the nurse pointed that House was in. He had assumed the clinic patient House was taking care of was fake once he read “Eric Shawn” on the chart. 

“It’s her immune system. The tremors, the fatigue, it had to be autoimmune. She had a cold a while ago, but (Y/N)’s always been bad at gauging how much pain she’s feeling. It was most likely a Campylobacter jejuni infection and it started to attack her immune system. She downplays the cold, doesn’t notice the tingling in her limbs and dismisses any of the pain she was feeling, keeps going until it turned into what it is now. Guillain-Barre.” Chase closed the file he had brought within and looked up at House half asleep on the patient’s table. 

House glanced behind him to see Cameron and Foreman standing there. He didn’t get up just holding his head up, “Any objections?” 

Chase looks at them both, “It’s Guillain-Barre syndrome. A few weeks with immunotherapy, some plasma exchanges and she’ll be well enough to figure out how to survive with an autoimmune disorder.” 

“She’ll be in and out of the hospital all the time.” Cameron frowned a little. 

House pressed his cane against the floor and stood up from his laying position, “Oh wise one, should we test? Go run another useless test? Or can we treat?” House glared at Chase, letting him know that he didn’t appreciate the MRI test behind his back. Chase stood his ground, didn’t flinch at the glare, she didn’t have a brainstem Reteplase would have caused damage, he regrets nothing. He’s sure Cameron looks guilty enough for the both of them.  

“Figure out if you’re doing plasma exchanges or intravenous immunoglobulin, then do it” House pushed Foreman and Cameron out the door and shut it. 

“You should have figured that out when she was still sitting on bench.” House mumbled a little once they were alone. 

“At least I figured it out,” Chase mumbled a little. 

House didn’t say anything as he stared Chase down a little. After a few minutes, he finally shook his head before opening the door again and motioning Chase out ready to go back to his nap. 

___ 

Chase debated his next step. He thought figuring out what was wrong with (Y/N) would have been enough to clear his mind. In some sense it was clearer, more space had been freed up to think about what Cameron had said.  The few hours of sleep he had accidentally caught on her hospital bed didn’t seem enough to keep him standing much longer, so once Foreman sent an update about her condition and that were going to start some treatment despite not testing for Guillain-Barre, he took it as a sign to get some sleep. He thought of going through the motions of undressing in the locker room, getting his stuff and really leaving, maybe even swinging by to take create for his diagnosis like they always did, but found the whole ordeal exhausting. Instead, he pulled his coat out of the conference room and headed to his apartment with Cameron’s words repeating in his head. 

If you really know her, you know she wouldn’t have left the way you think she did.

If you really know her, you know she wouldn’t have left the way you think she did.

If you really know her, you know she wouldn’t have left the way you think she did.

He spent an hour in his own bed, twenty minutes on his couch and even tried to lay on the floor to try and calm himself down enough to sleep when he finally got to his apartment. If you really know her, you know she wouldn’t have left the way you think she did. He finally stood up completely and scrubbed his face a little at the irritation. His eyes landed on his father’s papers that he had tossed a few days ago, onto the dining table nobody used. He sat himself at the dining table for what felt like the first time since he bought it. If you really know her, you know she wouldn’t have left the way you think she did. If his brain wanted to keep tormenting him, he could do it right back he quickly decided. He grabbed onto the deed of the house and made a mental note to call the lawyer who’s card was paperclipped to it and started to sort through the papers. Anything with sentimental value was tossed away from him, something to handle later. His mind had somewhat silenced, completely focused on what papers would have to go straight to his sister and which he would have to handle himself. 

It didn’t take long and Chase let himself puff out his chest a little in relief. The final thing he had in front of him was a stack of letters, on top sat an addressless one, ‘Robert’ in his father’s terrible handwriting. He ran his finger across the name, bumping into the rubber band that held the stack of letters together. He pulled the top one out and went to open the letter when he noticed the next one in the bundle. 

The address read his father’s home back with his name, nothing straight. But the top corner, the send address held the name he had been avoiding. Immediately  he dropped the letter he was holding and pulled the rubber band off the small bundle of letters. He shuffled them as he looked at each sent address, Auckland. Tokyo. California. Colorado. Iowa. New York. Each addressed to him, at his father’s house. Each from the same person. (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She said she wrote, she mentioned it over and over. 

Chase dropped the letters onto the table again and spent what felt like hours, but most likely was only a minute, staring them down. They all had the same worn look, like someone had dropped them into a desk drawer and didn’t pull them out for years. They weren’t dated, he didn’t know if he should open them, (they were his mail he could right?) She said she wrote, she mentioned it over and over. 

Chase finally grabbed the one letter he knew he could handle reading; his fathers. 

Robert, 

There is no way I can make you understand why I kept these from you. You wouldn’t want to hear my answer if I tried. The first month she kept sending them and you kept showing up at the house, slyly checking the mail, looking at your textbooks but never really pulling anything out. I was grateful you had a reason to even come to the house, yet I needed you to understand the importance of your studies. Then the more time that passed, the more you seemed to forget, the easier it was to just ask the maids to tuck the mail away,  you seemed to focus on medical school. That’s all I wanted. You had a duty to your studies, to the Chase name, it seems you understand that now and your mother tried to take that from me long ago, I wasn’t going to let the same happen to you. Look at you now, it did you wonders. 

Chase turned the piece of paper around, as if he was going to find anything else. As if his father would have put another note on the back a quick “Just kidding!” Or a P.S of any sorts. Chase felt his eyes warm as the tears seemed to build and he dropped the letter back onto the table and pressed his palms together in a prayer motion without thinking as he felt a few tears slip out. It wore him out enough that he found himself falling asleep on the couch, ignoring the dread of letters he knew he had to open. 

____

(Y/N) perked up in her chair when Dr. Cameron slipped into her room. The treatment had been working for the last few hours now. It had taken some time to find the right plasma type and get it all set up, but (Y/N) already felt her shakes subside just enough. Dr. Cameron pressed the door shut behind her and dropped a cup of pudding onto (Y/N)’s lap, “Don’t tell the nurses, I had to steal it from someone’s cart,” She smiled a little as (Y/N) nodded. 

As she dug into the pudding Dr. Cameron started speaking, “Guillian-Barre syndrome is an autoimmune disorder. We believe it got triggered during your last cold. Dr. Chase,” Dr. Cameron paused just a moment to look at the way (Y/N) tried to not stiff, “mentioned that you’d probably downplayed the cold and any tingling that occurred before the fatigue. It’s easy to miss the signs at first when you’re trying to tough it out. The plasma exchange you’re getting is only to be able to stabilize the immune system again, you’ll have to get checked at least yearly from now on, it can reemerge, but you’ll be able to live your life mostly normal again.” 

“So Robert figured it out?” (Y/N) spoke with the spoon in her mouth, at Dr. Cameron’s nod of confirmation (Y/N) pushed the pudding to the side table and nodded back. “And he’s not gonna…” (Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut fighting back the tears at the lack of his presence and opened them again “Thank you. Please make sure the rest of the team gets told I owe them everything. Thank you guys.” 

Dr. Cameron reached her hand out and squeezed (Y/N)’s fingers just a little “Give him a little more time,” She whispered before leaving the room. 

____ 

When Chase finally woke up he felt the warm sting of crying to himself last night and groaned a little. He pulled himself off the couch, glanced at the clock that read 4:32am and grimaced a little at the 12 hour nap he had fallen into. He lagged for about an hour, trying avoid the obvious task sitting on his dining table. Finally, he had no choice and had scooped them all up and sat on his couch. 

He stared at his old address, written in handwriting he knew once long ago, and finally he gently, as if not to disturb anything, pulled the envelope open. Inside sat a postcard, scribbles across the back. 

 Hi Robert, 

It’s been nearly three weeks since I last saw you. (or heard from you. Write back if you’re not too busy. Please?) I barely explained in my last letter, I’m sorry. Things got worse with my mom. And you were gone, and we both decided that distance doesn’t matter so I hope you aren’t too angry with me. (If you are, that’s fine, just write and tell me you’re angry.) I’m going to stay at this address for about three months, so it should work if you are writing and the stupid post office is losing them. 

Anyways, enough of that.  I know you noticed the New Zealand postage. New Zealand is amazing Robert, you were so right I do love it. It’s green and warm and wet and everything a Tolkien girl could dream of.  I’ve taken to eating like the hobbits, snacks and snack and snacks, since you aren’t around to remind me about real meal times. I’ve met some cool people, no one is you, they’re being nice to me and showing me around. I’m sure you have a lot of homework, lots of studying, so here’s just a list of things I need to tell you about next time we’re face to face. The rowboat, two rainbows!! Aroha and her family, the terrible movie that was on cable the first night I got here, the book I read on the train to go swimming at some random swimming hole. 

I wish we could put cameras into our eyes, let you see everything I’m seeing, and force you to stare into a mirror so I could see you, even just for a little. I miss you and no amount of New Zealand can make me forget. 

Always yours, 

(Y/N). 

P.S I know you’re judging me for putting a postcard in an envelope, but I wanted to make sure it got to you in perfect condition, the photo in the front is the town I’m staying, so now you know where to picture me. 

Chase felt his heart ache at how easily he could hear her voice in her writing. He let out a small broken laugh when he flipped the postcard and started at the photo. She had drawn an arrow to some random spot in the photo and scribbled two little hearts, in the smallest writing yet she wrote “you’re right here with me!” 

He felt more tears come out of his eyes and he quickly wiped it away to avoid them dropping onto the postcard as he run his thumb over the two hearts, feeling the indentation of the pen. Flipping it again, he reread the letter, once, twice, and then a third time, trying to contain the bubble of emotion that sat in his chest. He grabbed the next letter in the pile and noticed she was still in New Zealand when she sent this one. When he noticed it was a full letter, not just a simple postcard, he wiped his tears as clean as he could and started reading the letter. She had decided and wrote upfront to ignore the silence on his end for this letter, instead writing details about her housemates, the swimming she had been doing, the coworker she was sick of waiting tables with, Chase flipped the page and read the other two in a matter of minutes.

The third New Zealand letter explained that she had felt like she overstated her welcome, and maybe it had something to do with the letter she had gotten from her mother, she had a saved enough to go somewhere, and when she looked at plane tickets, it seemed Tokyo was that somewhere. She promised that if he felt like writing her, she would get the letter if he sent it to her New Zealand address as the family she stayed with was happy to forward mail. 

The first Tokyo letter was almost the same as the first New Zealand postcard, but Chase could feel the dying hope of hearing back from him. No sly remarks about him writing to this address, nothing about seeing each other soon, but still at the bottom of the letter he read; “Always yours, (Y/N)”. One more Tokyo letter, and it read like an itinerary, “flying back to the states. landing in california, going to find my brother and dad.” an address to where he could write scribbled in a different color, as if she almost didn’t put it. And again, “Always yours, (Y/N)” 

It was the first Colorado letter that had Chase contemplating praying for his dad to come back to life just so Chase could kill him. The sloppy letter and smudges were enough to tell that (Y/N) had been emotional when writing. Chase didn’t register any of words instead paying attention to the smudged “R” where a tear had fallen. 

Robert. 

They were suppose to be here. My dad always loved Colorado and I thought maybe he would have been here. But he’s not, not in the phonebook, not in any directory. I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve lost it all. Anything. Everything. 

The scribbling she had done barely covered the words, but still she started the letter over again. 

We were suppose to be fine. You promise you’d write and I know I promised I’d be there so maybe I deserve this. But I miss you and I miss our coffee shops and I miss the green grove at your parents and I miss shitty Australian tea. You swore everything would be fine. If I knew this was going to happen I would have stayed in that fucking house with the monster who thinks she’s my mother. I should have stayed, at least until the weekend, so I could have explained it to you face to face, but I couldn’t she had 

More scribbles in the line, these dark and hiding whatever secret her mother had done, whatever the final straw was. 

The worst part is, I can’t get myself to stop sending these. I keep convincing myself that you’re just not getting them. If that’s not the case, just write me telling me to fuck off, I can take it. 

I miss you so much. Sometimes when I’m in the dark room of my motel, I’ll close my eyes and I’ll find on a movie I’ve seen a million times and I’ll try to imagine you’re laying with me, asking the dumbest questions about the stupid movie just to hear my voice. More and more I’m convincing myself you were never real, something I made up in a time of despair. Other times, I know I could never have dreamed you up. Do you remember when you tried to teach me to surf? If I had tried enough I know I would have been able to get it, but you had your hands wrapped around my ankles as I tried to stable myself on the board and it’s all I could focus on. I had been so nervous and you started rubbing circles against my ankle bone and I lost any chance of learning how to surf. The other day I was in a crowded bar and some dude put his arm around my shoulder and suddenly I wanted to crawl out of my skin. Still, I slept with him, and thought of you the whole time. It’s probably better I never slept with you, I knew from the start you would have me wrapped up, completely incased in you. Imagine if we had actually slept together? I don’t know how much longer I can pretend your letters aren’t getting to me. I don’t know if I can keep holding onto something that’s slipping out of my fingertips. 

Next time, I’ll stay. I’ll endure what I have to, as long as it means you. 

Always yours, 

(Y/N). 

Chase didn’t bother opening the last two letters. He had enough. He stood up from the table and scrabbled to grab all the letters. His father’s letter was shoved to the bottom of his coat pocket as he rushed out the door. 

____ 

(Y/N) had slept well that night, finally actually getting the treatment she had been waiting for. She focused on that the whole time she was falling asleep, ignoring the pity she got from Dr. Cameron when she came to check in. Dr. Foreman had made it clear that (Y/N) would be in the hospital for a while as she got better, they wanted to keep an eye on her, make sure everything was going back to normal. So she slept, waking up for breakfast at 8am and eating as much of it as she could stomach. She flipped through another magazine some nurse had slipped her. It was all easy, until she flipped to the travel agency ad and they were boosting about low Australian flights. She tossed the magazine away and let herself slip back into an uneasy sleep. 

She was awoken by a small tickle against her scalp. She didn’t open her eyes but crinkled her nose a little at the sensation. Dr. Chase had entered the hospital and didn’t even bother going to find any of his colleagues or boss. Heading straight to the girl he wanted to see. He had stood in the doorway for a little trying to catch his breath, trying not to fall into an endless pit of guilt at his abandonment, he knows she won’t hold it against him. He was a victim as much as she was in this situation. Still he steeled himself to be sent away before he slipped in and let himself fully touch her, his fingers lightly scratching her scalp. 

“(Y/N)” The accented voice left a warm feeling all the way to her toes. 

“‘M sleeping Robert,” She mumbled a little, still mostly out of it all but pressing into his touch anyways. 

“The doctor who solved your case can’t get a minute of your time?” Chase tried to joke but felt the watery tone in his own voice. 

At the small crack in his voice, (Y/N) pried her eyes open, he dropped his touch. She didn’t say anything as she looked at Chase, instead just savoring looking at him. He had obvious tears in his eye line. The smallest quiver of his face made her sit up, “Oh you’re here,” She whispered a little and she tried to tame her hair a little and rub the sleep out of her eyes. 

“I didn’t think you’d come, I didn’t expect you to come, you’ve done enough. Thank you,” She shoved her hands into the blanket to avoid reaching out, “For saving my life,” She clarified. Chase hummed a little and sniffled to try and hold back a tear. (Y/N) furrowed her brow a little and glanced to see the door to her room was shut before she pulled her hand out from under the blanket and reached out to grab his. She stopped herself before she could grab it and looked up at him. He didn’t bother making eye contact with her, his eyes trained completely on her hand before reaching out and meeting her halfway. 

“I didn’t know, I didn’t get them. My father he- He’s dead and still mucking up my life,” Chase breathed out. He dropped her hand for just a minute so he could go around the bed, put himself back into the visitors chair that sat exactly where he had left it. Once he was sat, he reached out again without thought and wrapped up both her hands in his. “I was never angry at you for leaving, never for that.” He held their hands close to his chest as he spoke. 

(Y/N) let him speak as she tried to put together exactly what he meant. The sleep was still clouding her brain just a slightest, but having Robert here in front of her, touching her short wired her brain just the slightest. “Honey, I just woke up, you gotta clue me in a little,” She cooed and squeezed his hand a little when he squeezed at her voice. 

Chase pulled one of his hands away from holding hers and grabbed the letter his father left for him from his pocket. He pasted it to her and she grabbed it with her empty hand. As she started to read he started to speak, “I’m going to write you back, for each one. I’m going to send you four letters for every one you tried to send me. I had been writing them in my head for years, you’re always the person I’m talking to. Darling, I’m sorry,” He confessed. 

(Y/N) slipped her hand out of his completely and sat up as she read and reread the letter that Chase had given her. For a few minutes it was silent as she accepted the fact that it wasn’t Chase that didn’t reply. It wasn’t his fault he never saw her words, she mentally thanks whatever God that Chase never had to read her drunk crying letter from Colorado but feels a little dip of despair at all the postcards he missed out. 

“I know it’s not a good enough excuse, I should have looked for you, I knew you’d never break your promise and I just let myself believe you didn’t write.” Chase whispered after the silence went on for too long. 

(Y/N)’s eyes widen, “Wait what? Robert?!” She slightly scoffed. Chase cringed a little and (Y/N) knew what to do in this situation. This was something she was still an expert in. Soothing Robert Chase when he tries to shoulder blame that isn’t his was a textbook problem for her. 

“Your father kept all the letters from you until he died? And you think that’s not a good enough excuse?” (Y/N) dropped the letter and let it join the useless magazine from this morning. 

“Nothing to forgive.” She whispered and let herself be brave by reaching her hand out and wiping the tear that Chase had let out. “Plus you saved my life, kind of have to forgive anything” She joked a little but felt her own tears start to build. 

When Chase felt her hand against his cheek he let himself sink into it a little, his cheek resting against her palm for just a few seconds before he grabbed her hand in his again and intertwined your fingers together. “It’s my job, I should have been quicker, but you’ll be fine.” He brings their hands up to his lips and pressed the lightest kiss against her knuckle. 

“Has Cameron explained everything to you?” Chase leaned forward in the chair to be close to (Y/N). 

“Most of it, but I’d rather hear it from you,” (Y/N) contently sighed at the way Chase kept trying to get closer. 

____

Dr. Foreman had been about to slip into (Y/N)’s room when he heard Chase’s laughter leak out from it. He knocked instead of just going in and took a quick moment to observe the way Chase had found himself sitting at the end of the bed, (Y/N) sitting up and obviously in the middle of a story. Chase didn’t move an inch, didn’t even acknowledge Foreman, his eyes trained completely on (Y/N). 

“Hi Dr. Foreman! Time for more meds already?” She smiled. Foreman knew that she looked better because she was in fact, getting better, but he’s sure Dr. Cameron would claim it had something to do with the two making up. Dr. Foreman nodded and started to get the machines ready to give (Y/N) more plasma. He had zoned himself into the process so much, he didn’t notice the small whisper of Chase’s voice. When he looked up, he noticed Chase had moved, now resting back on the chair as he whispered to (Y/N). Foreman paid enough attention to hear him explaining what exactly each thing was to (Y/N) but stopped listening once he heard, “It shouldn’t hurt at all, sweetheart.” followed by (Y/N)’s soft confirmation. 

Foreman managed to get it all set up and never once did Chase seem to actually pay any attention to him. It wasn’t until (Y/N) had. slipped into a nap because of the meds that Chase finally looked at Foreman.

 “She’s doing a lot better. I’ve been waiting her vitals since I’ve been in here,” 

“Your diagnosis” Dr. Foreman said, letting Chase know there was no thank you needed. 

____ 

(Y/N) groaned a little at the stretch she had taken. The hospital bed wasn’t the worst to start but by week three she had found herself counting down the time to leave the hospital. She ignored the lingering doubt that she’d lose Robert again and let herself instead enjoy every second she had gotten over the last three weeks. He had started coming in to eat every meal with her. He was there when she went to bed, and unless a case had come up, he had been there when she woke up. It felt easy, it was always suppose to be easy between them, it was others that had complicated things. They had fallen back into the rhyme they once had, only it felt as if something had clicked. (Y/N) didn’t ask about his parents, although eventually he did drop some hints to what was happening. Robert had asked about her father, and brother and was met with an excited (Y/N) pulling out photos from when she finally found them again. It was this moment that made Robert pull out his own wallet keepsake. (Y/N)’s eyes had watered at the letter he had been carrying around for so long and pressed a soft kiss against his cheek when he said “I still owe you letters, I haven’t forgotten”. 

Now, she stared at the terrible hospital bed and found herself going to miss it, even just because it gave the perfect excuse for Robert to be closer. 

“Ready sweetheart?” Chase spoke from the doorway, “Convinced House I had to see you off,” He hummed a little and grabbed her bags without thinking. (Y/N) looped her arm around Chase’s open one and they set off outside the hospital. 

“Did you really think sleeping with me would make it worse?” Chase said as they stood int he elevator. 

(Y/N) groaned at his questions. He had been doing this all month, asking questions that had to do with her letters. He never told her if he finished reading them, but one night he had come in, teary eyed and pressed a kiss against her forehead mumbling apologizes that were unnecessary. She had assumed he read that final letter, the one she had poured everything she had felt into before she locked it up. 

“Sleeping with you would have probably ended with me trying to swim back to America from Tokyo,” (Y/N) pressed the floor button and rolled her eyes, “So yeah, it would have made it worse,” 

“Well, you’re already here so no harm in trying it now right?” Chase smirked a little and braced himself for (Y/N) gentle wack. 

“At least take me to dinner first Bobby,” (Y/N) gasped with no malice. 

“No,” Chase glared with no real threat at the nickname, “No one here knows me by that, lets not start, brat” He made sure all her bags were in one hand and used his other to pull her in his arm around her shoulder. “I’ll take you to dinner, maybe even a movie if you promise to talk my ear off the whole time,” He mumbled against her hair as they walked out of the hospital. (Y/N) hummed a small confirmation and pressed herself deeper into his arms.

extra authors note: thanks for making it this far! please come let me know if you hate it, love it or even if you want more! i have so many silly little thoughts about these two together <3 come chitchat!

[cherriive]

﹒⌗﹒scream ⸝⸝

synopsis :: with people dying every here and there, you never expected that you were the next victim, or that your (almost) murderer was so cute

info :: wlw, f reader, use of yn but it's written in second pov (you), mentions of murderers and threats (like cutting or killing someone) not proofread, if there's anything else please tell me!

Minjeong was the usual nerdy, shy girl that barely anyone knew something about her. Only her group friend that had other three girls talked to her.

Though, she had always caught your attention for some reason.

Being popular and maintaining a persona wasn't the easiest task in the world, especially when you didn't want people to hate you for being the usual mean girl. Which meant you often got remembered as the nice girl who didn't had beef with anyone.

Oh if only they knew how much you hated those people, and that stupid school, and the teachers-

You know what I mean.

But who cares. As long as you kept with the nice girl facade, no one would even bat an eye on how you actually felt.

Everyone was dumb enough to believe in your act anyway. Everyone but Minjeong.

The girl that had something in her that made you wanna know more about her was the only one who wasn't fooled by you and your antics.

Not that you knew that of course. And it didn't help how whenever you tried to say a 'Good morning, Minjeong!' she would just roll her eyes or straight up ignore you. Seriously, what's her problem? And why do you feel the need to get closer to her?

Today, you heard one of your "friends" talk about the new victim. A lot of people have been dying lately, but no one knew why or who was doing this. All they knew, was that they used that ugly mask.

But you didn't wanna think about it. It was way too dark and depressing to talk about those murders, so you opted in pretending you were absolutely clueless about it!

“Have you seen? They made a new victim!”

“Don't say this near yn, she's sensitive..”

“Oh yeah, my bad.”

And that's how your days went, smiling and faking innocence, just wanting to get through high school already.

But Minjeong had other plans.

-

“Hm? Oh, yeah, hahaha. I'll try to not forget about it next time, sorry.”

“You're so careless yn! But it's alright, until next week.”

Finally. You felt so tired.

You were supposed to go out with your friends tonight, but you had no interest in doing so, preferring to just be in the comfort of your home.

But of course they needed a good excuse for you to not go, otherwise they might've showed up in your door forcing you to go with them. Thankfully that's not a problem.

Grabbing the popcorn from the microwave, you opened the window to breath some fresh air, before quickly making your way to the living room.

You sat down on the couch, getting ready to watch a random horror movie. The perfect way to spend a night alone!

Before you could even focus back on the movie playing, someone called you again. Huh? Was your excuse not good enough?

Whatever, just answer it and say you're sick or something.

“Hey, sorry I couldn't go, really-”

“Hello, yn.”

...

What.

Who was this?

How did they know your name?

And what kind of weird voice does this person has?

“Who are you?!” – you tried to not sound too scared while also keeping that mask on. Maybe it was just a prank, it didn't hurt to be safe.

You swear you heard a very quick laugh from the phone, but tried not to think too much about it.

“I just wanna talk to you.”

“Why? Who are you?”

“it's not important. Do you want to play a game with me?”

Okay now that was just weird. You didn't know who this person was, and now they're asking for you to play a game with them.

But something told you, maybe, just maybe it's one of your friends, pranking you. Who knows?

So, you decided to go with the worst option you had.

“What game?”

You tried to do your best sweet voice so maybe the person on the other side of the line would have some kind of mercy on your person.

“A game of questions. I'll just ask you a few things and you answer me honestly, hm? How about that?”

You should just hang up. This is stupid. Probably one of those weirdos from school that hate you for no reason trying to spook you.

... But for some reason you didn't.

“Okay.” – another laugh came from the phone, making you slightly shiver.

“Good choice.”

You anxiously waited on the couch, looking around the living room to find some comfort in the familiarity of your own home.

“Do you like horror movies?”

What an odd question.

“Yeah, I do. Why?”

“Hmm.. What's your favorite horror movie, then?”

“I don't know, I guess slashers? Any kind of slasher as long as it's alright enough it's good for me.”

There was silence for a moment, as if the person on the phone with you was thinking about your answer.

A satisfied hum came from them, and soon spoke up.

“Do you like people dying?”

What. How did we go from movies to this.

“Wh.. What? Of course not. What kind of question is that?”

“Answer the question yn.”

This was the breaking point for you. This was starting to get out of hand, and you were not going to talk with this weird person anymore.

Without thinking twice you hang up, trying to understand what the fuck had just happened.

But before you could get back to your senses and pay attention to the long forgotten movie again, your phone started to ring.

Your hands were trembling, but you hesitantly picked up the call.

“You know it's very rude to hang up in the middle of a conversation?”

There it was, that stupid voice that was making you more nervous than you wanted.

“What do you want?!”

You tried your best to avoid showing how nervous you felt right now, but everything was thrown out of the window when you heard those damn words.

“I want you to just stay right where you are in your living room. Is that 'Stab'?"

What. The. Fuck.

How did they know that? Wait, were they watching you? Oh no. Oh no no no. This wasn't happening.

You quickly closed the curtains in the room, making sure to lock the front door while still holding your phone, and that's when you heard them laughing.

Not chuckling, not giggling, full on laughing.

“You think that's going to help you? You should stop worrying about being friendly to everyone and start worrying about your windows.”

Oh fuck. The kitchen.

Without giving a damn about staying the in living room, you ran to the kitchen and – oh there it was. The open window.

But there was nothing wrong with your kitchen. At least you couldn't see anything.

You slowly went back to the living room, phone in your hand, looking around nervously. You didn't know what to think or to expect right now.

What wasn't on your list was to hear the same voice from your phone right behind you, in your ear.

“You gotta learn to be more careful, ynnie.”

Your surcival instincts kicked in, and you almost turned around. Almost. If it wasn't for the feeling of a knife right against the back of your neck.

“Ah, ah, ah. Don't move..”

There wasn't a single word that could describe the mix of emotions currently inside you.

But the main would definitely be fear.

Is this where your life ends? You never did anything wrong to deserve this! Maybe you did lie every here and there, but come on, who's really 100% honest?

Suddenly you got snapped out of your thoughts by the person – that you could now see the ghostface costume they're wearing – pushing you against a wall, turning you around to face them.

“I like this expression on you better than that fucking stupid persona you have.”

If it was under any other circumstances, you'd have defended yourself. But the knife was still there.

“Everyone else might be dumb enough to believe in those lies you tell everyone, but I'm not. And I don't like liars.”

As they spoke, they slowly got closer. And closer. Until your nose was almost touching the mask on their face.

It was terrifying. But oddly thrilling.

Before you could say something, the masked person suddenly took off the scary mask and –

Wait, what.

“Minjeong?!”

“Oh, you know my name?”

The voice that once sounded so weird from how many effects it had, now was just a normal feminine voice. She tried to hold back a smirk, but seeing the shocked expression you were doing was just too good.

“What-.. Why are you..”

She just held the knife closer to your neck, making you instantly shut up and swallow down any words you had in your tongue.

“Shut up. You're so infuriating. Always having that dumb face on while pretending all the time. It's so annoying.”

Minjeong looked at you, her eyes travelling through your whole figure with annoyance, mixed with something you couldn't exactly put a finger at yet.

“And still.. You still managed to catch my attention. I wish I could just rip this pretty face of yours..”

You almost flinched when she said that. Who wouldn't? Especially with how the knife was almost cutting your neck. And then Minjeong retracted the knife back with a sigh.

“But I can't bring myself to.”

There were zero and a million thoughts in your head at the same time. Minjeong is absolutely crazy, that's for sure. But the angry face she had was so, so cute.

And that thought alone was enough to make you even crazier than her.

“.. You want to kill me because you have a crush on me?”

“Shut up, that's not what I said.”

You really wanted to believe that when Minjeong put that knife on your neck again she wanted to kill you. You really did.

Yet it was so hard to when her cheeks were clearly red despite the lack of light in the room – except for the tv that was still on.

“Why don't you shut me up?”

“I'm going to cut your voice chords off.”

That was so stupid that you only managed to laugh softly, looking at her differently from how you always had. Now you knew why she caught your attention too.

Minjeong took a few deep breaths, calming herself down and then looked at you with a more neutral, yet soft expression on her face.

She got closer to your face, her warm breath against your cheeks giving you a feeling you never thought you'd feel because of her.

“If you tell anyone about me I promise to kill you and everyone in that school.”

“Will I get more late night visits if I keep my mouth shut?”

“Fuck you.”

She almost spat when saying this, but from how quickly Minjeong turned around to hide her face you guessed she was blushing again.

And she definitely was.

Minjeong took a step back and finally took the knife away – which was still scarying you a bit – and gave you a.. A flower? When did she got that? Was it under her costume?

“Here. For you.”

“... You know there are more conventional ways to give someone a flower without threatening to kill them, right?”

She rolled her eyes, holding back the urge to tell you to fuck yourself again. Especially since you were treating this like something completely normal after seeing it was her. Was she not scary enough?

“I'm going.” – you heard Minjeong say, turning around and walking away. But before she stepped away you put a hand on her shoulder, grabbing her attention.

“Wait! Are you going to come back?”

“... Maybe.”

It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no. And that was enough. You just wanted to see Minjeong again without her being the quiet kid from your school, and without pretending.

“Alright. Thank you for the flower Minjeong.”

“Just call me Winter.”

“Huh? Why?”

“It's what my close friends call me.”

You smiled, nodding your head. It was cute she gave you a nickname only her friends knew about.

And with that last interaction, she put on her mask again. You only looked away for two seconds after a loud sound from the tv, and when you looked for Minjeong again, she had disappeared.

Wow. What a night. A good, night.

a/n :: so erm I didn't do my school work but I finished this, so yay?? i hope it's good enough😭

[forkshighschooler]

Can you do one with Paul Lahote where he accidentally triggered reader during a argument and feels so bad about it

The Line He Didn’t Mean to Cross

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Reader

Summary: Paul has a temper—he’s always had one. But when an argument with you hits too close to a past you don’t talk about, he realizes he’s done something worse than lose control. He’s hurt you. And that’s the one thing he never wanted to do.

Warning:Mentions of past emotional trauma, a heated argument, and emotional hurt.

⸻

The slam of the front door still echoed in your ears.

You stood in the middle of the kitchen, hands braced against the counter, heart pounding. The argument had been stupid. Something small. Something that shouldn’t have spiraled.

But Paul had yelled. Not like the others. Louder. Sharper.

And then—he said it.

“You always run when it gets hard, don’t you?!”

You froze.

The breath left your lungs in one sharp exhale, like he’d physically struck you. You stared past him, into nothing, and everything inside you just shut down.

You didn’t even answer him. You just… walked away.

Not to punish him. Not to be cold. You couldn’t speak.

You didn’t see the way his face crumpled the second you turned your back.

⸻

Paul sat on the porch steps now, elbows on his knees, fists clenched in front of him. It had been an hour. Maybe more.

He couldn’t stop replaying it.

He hadn’t meant it. He didn’t think. You were backing away during the fight, and his chest was tight and his vision was red and he just—he didn’t see what he was saying.

He only saw you leave. Pale. Quiet. Eyes gone glassy like someone had turned the light off inside you.

He knew that look. He’d worn it himself, once.

“I’m such an idiot,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair.

He didn’t care about being right. He didn’t care about the fight.

He only cared about that hollow look on your face—and how he had put it there.

⸻

He knocked softly on your bedroom door. No answer.

He didn’t expect one.

“Can I come in?” he asked quietly.

Still no response.

But the door wasn’t locked.

You were sitting on the floor against the far wall, knees hugged to your chest. You didn’t look up when he walked in, didn’t flinch, didn’t move.

Paul dropped to his knees in front of you, slower than he’d ever moved before.

“I’m so sorry.”

His voice cracked.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t thinking. I was just—mad. But that’s no excuse. You didn’t deserve it. Especially not that.”

You blinked, and he saw the tears you hadn’t let fall.

He wanted to rip his own tongue out for what he’d said.

“I know you’ve been through hell,” he whispered. “And I promised I would never be the one to send you back there. But I did, didn’t I?”

You still didn’t speak. But your hand reached out, slow and trembling, and rested against his chest.

Paul placed his hand over yours instantly, holding it like it was fragile glass.

“I don’t care if we never fight again or if we fight every week,” he said. “I’ll learn. I’ll get better. I’ll do whatever it takes to never see that look on your face again.”

His voice broke again.

“I love you too much to ever let my temper come before your safety. Ever.”

You finally looked at him then—really looked at him.

“I know you didn’t mean it,” you said softly. “But it still hurt.”

He nodded, jaw tight. “Then I’ll make it right. No matter how long it takes.”

And this time, when he pulled you into his arms, you let him.

Disclaimer:

I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.