#there’s definitely an appropriate way to handle it

[darkintothedawn]

DAY FOUR || Stiles Stilinski 'Teen Wolf'

Pairing — Stiles Stilinski x Gender Neutral reader

Summary — Day four of 'THE BOYFRIEND CODE'.

4. Thou shalt not hold thy boyfriend’s hand just to warm up thy own freezing fingers and then let go once they’re toasty. My hands are not a temporary rental service—they require long-term commitment. Hand-holding is a big deal, okay? It’s a sacred act of love, comfort, and subtle flexing. If thou initiates contact, thou must maintain it for an appropriate amount of time (i.e., until I say so). If thou dares to pull away too soon, be warned: I will be needy about it. I will pout. I will stare at thy hand longingly. I will dramatically sigh until my hand is reclaimed. I don’t want to beg, but make no mistake—I absolutely will.

Memo— Sorry this is so late, guys! Anyway, you can find the rest of the 'THE BOYFRIEND CODE' here.

Word Count — 4677

Warnings — Fluff.

The next day dawned colder than anyone had anticipated. The kind of cold that made you regret leaving the comfort of your bed, let alone venturing anywhere further than the couch. Somehow, though, you and Stiles had ended up bundled together in the Stilinski living room, wrapped in a massive blanket, with a movie playing on the TV.

It wasn’t snowing, but it felt like it could at any second. The kind of freezing that made the windows fog over, and no amount of hot coffee or heating could seem to shake it. The thermostat and boiler were both broken meaning the cold seeped into the corners of the room, lingering like it had nowhere better to be.

“Okay, is it just me, or is it actually freezing in here?” Stiles asked, his breath puffing out visibly in the chill air as he pulled the blanket tighter around both of you.

“It’s definitely freezing,” you confirmed, leaning further into him in search of warmth. “Why does it feel like we’re watching a movie in a meat locker?”

“Maybe the house is haunted,” he quipped, casting a suspicious glance toward the ceiling. “Ghosts of heating systems past, punishing us for taking central heating for granted.”

You raised an eyebrow, deadpan. “Yes, very plausible. Maybe it’s payback for how cold it was when you decided to storm out yesterday and drag me into the tundra.”

Stiles tilted his head, squinting as though he was trying to find a retort but ultimately came up empty. “Okay, first of all, it wasn’t that cold yesterday.”

You shot him a look.

He huffed, backtracking almost immediately. “Fine. It was freezing. But that wasn’t the point—I was making a dramatic exit!”

“You were being dramatic, alright,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder. “And I almost lost feeling in my fingers because of it.”

“Well, lucky for you,” he said, puffing his chest out, “I’m here now. A walking furnace, as it were.”

You glanced at him, unimpressed. “Some furnace. I think it’s broken.”

“Rude,” he muttered, though he tightened his arm around you, pulling you even closer until you were practically in his lap. “You’ll miss me when I’m gone. Just you wait.”

“Not if I freeze to death first,” you said dryly, but you didn’t resist when he tucked the blanket around both of you like a cocoon.

The movie droned on in the background, explosions lighting up the screen, but your focus wasn’t really on it—not when the cold was still lingering, and not when Stiles was rambling in a way that made it almost bearable.

“You know,” he started, a sly grin tugging at his lips, “if we were in one of those apocalypse movies where the heat went out everywhere, I’d survive. Natural body heat and all that. I’d be thriving.”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “You could barely handle being outside for five minutes yesterday. You started complaining before we even got down the block.”

“That was different,” he argued, his tone defensive. “That was wind chill. This is just regular cold.”

“Oh, yeah, totally different,” you said, biting back a smile.

Stiles stared at you for a moment before leaning down and pressing a dramatic kiss to the top of your head. “You know what? I’m done explaining myself to you. Just enjoy the benefits of my unmatched warmth.”

You snorted but shifted closer anyway, letting the weight of him and the blanket press against you. Slowly, the cold seemed to fade just a little, his body heat seeping into yours until the space between you was nonexistent.

For a moment, the room fell quiet, the movie playing on without either of you really paying attention. It wasn’t the most exciting way to spend a day, but as Stiles let out a contented sigh and burrowed further into the blanket, you couldn’t imagine a better one.

So, without warning, you slipped your hands under Stiles’ jumper, pressing your cold fingers against his stomach. He flinched immediately, yelping like you’d just dumped a bucket of ice water on him.

“Oh my god,” he hissed, squirming under your touch. “Why are your hands so cold? Are you trying to kill me?”

You grinned, unmoved by his dramatics, and started tracing lazy circles against his skin, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your fingertips. “I’m just warming them up, and you did say you’re a walking furnace. This is your fault.”

“Not like this!” he protested, squirming more but not actually pulling away. “I’m not some human space heater for your icicle hands!”

“Oh, hush,” you teased, your voice softening as your thumbs grazed the faint lines of his abdomen. “I’m just appreciating the results of all that Lacrosse practice. You’ve been working hard.”

He stilled for a moment, his cheeks turning pink, though whether from the cold or your praise, you couldn’t tell. “I mean… yeah, I guess,” he muttered, a little flustered.

You hummed, still tracing patterns over his stomach. “It’s paying off. Pretty soon, everyone at school’s going to be fawning over you.”

Stiles frowned, glancing down at you suspiciously. “What’s your angle here?”

“No angle,” you said, tilting your head to look up at him. “Just stating facts. Stiles Stilinski is a major hottie, and soon enough, people are finally going to see what I see. You’re incredibly attractive.”

His mouth opened like he wanted to respond, but nothing came out. Instead, his face flushed even darker, his ears turning red as he fidgeted under your hands. “I—uh—thanks? I guess?” he stammered, voice cracking slightly at the end.

You leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to his jawline. “No need to thank me. Just the truth.”

Stiles groaned, dropping his head back against the couch dramatically. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, but his lips slowly curled up into a small grin.

“Probably,” you teased, squeezing his hand gently. “But at least you’ll go down knowing you’re a certified hottie.”

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re blushing,” you countered, your grin widening.

“Am not,” he shot back quickly, but the look on his face said otherwise.

Stiles squirmed again, his lips twitching like he was trying to suppress a smile, but the faint pink on his cheeks wasn’t going anywhere. You could see it spread all the way to the tips of his ears, and it only made your grin widen.

“Aw, you’re blushing,” you cooed, moving your hands slightly lower on his stomach just to feel him flinch again.

“I’m not blushing,” he shot back, his voice defensive but cracking slightly at the end.

“Oh, you so are,” you teased, leaning in closer. “I mean, it’s fine, babe. Most people would be flustered after being called a hottie. Especially when it’s true.”

“Would you stop?” he whined, dragging a hand over his face, though he made no move to push you away. “I’m not used to—you know—people saying stuff like that.”

You softened a little, pulling your hands up from his stomach to rest over his chest instead, your thumbs brushing against the edges of his ribs. “Well, you’d better get used to it. Because, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re really good-looking, Stiles. Like, unfairly so.”

He scoffed, though the way he was ducking his head made you think he wasn’t fully convinced. “Yeah, okay. Sure. That’s me. Stiles Stilinski, local heartthrob.”

You frowned slightly at his tone, realizing that maybe this wasn’t just about him being flustered. “Hey,” you said softly, leaning up to kiss his jawline again, just below his ear. “I mean it. You’re hot. Full stop. No qualifiers, no sarcasm.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, slowly, his hands moved to slip under your top, resting against the small of your back. His fingers were warm against your skin, and he gently pulled you closer until your bodies were flush against each other.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “Like, sometimes I think you’re messing with me. Like there’s no way you could actually think—”

“Stiles,” you interrupted, cutting him off before he could spiral. You leaned back just enough to meet his gaze, your hands moving to cup either side of his face. “I’m not messing with you. Not even a little. You’re hot, you’re funny, you’re smart—and you’ve got this whole adorable, awkward thing going on that just makes you even more attractive. I’m not saying it to be nice or to mess with you. I’m saying it because it’s true.”

He blinked at you, clearly thrown off by the sincerity in your tone. “You really mean that?”

You smiled, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Every word. Now stop questioning me and just accept the fact that you’re a total babe.”

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered again, but there was a softness in his voice now, and his grip on your back tightened slightly, his thumbs brushing over your skin.

“And you’re still blushing,” you teased, unable to resist one last jab.

This time, Stiles didn’t even try to deny it. Instead, he smirked faintly, his hands moving higher on your back. “Fine. If I’m blushing, then you’re freezing. Maybe I should even things out a little.”

Before you could process what he meant, he slid his hands further up your back, his palms warm against your skin as they pressed against the chill that had settled there. You shivered instinctively, and he grinned, clearly enjoying the reversal.

“Not so fun being on the receiving end, is it?” he teased, his confidence creeping back as he watched your reaction.

You narrowed your eyes at him, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, leaning back into his touch despite the teasing.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, his grin widening. “Keep talking, babe. I’m listening.”

“Cute and modest,” you teased, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm as you adjusted your position, settling against him more comfortably. “What don’t you have, Stiles Stilinski? A six-pack? A healthy sleep schedule? Basic survival instincts?”

“Har, har,” he muttered, rolling his eyes, but his grin didn’t falter. His hands shifted again, sliding further up your back for a moment before retreating. “For your information, I’m working on the six-pack. As for the other stuff… not exactly my fault I keep getting dragged into werewolf drama.”

You raised a brow, your lips twitching as you fought back a smirk. “Oh, dragged into it, huh? Because I seem to remember you throwing yourself into the middle of it most of the time.”

“That’s called being proactive,” he argued, though the way his lips twitched betrayed him. “Big difference.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, your tone light and teasing as you tilted your head to look at him. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night—oh wait, you don’t.”

He groaned, his head falling back against the couch dramatically. “Why do I put up with you?”

“Because you love me,” you shot back, grinning.

“Debatable,” he muttered, though the way his hands slid back down to your waist said otherwise.

You shivered again, your body reflexively tensing as the warmth from his hands left your back. “Okay, seriously, my hands are freezing.” You held them up in front of him for emphasis.

“Yeah, I noticed,” he said dryly, giving you a pointed look. “You’ve been using me as your personal radiator for the last ten minutes.”

“And you love it,” you said sweetly, wiggling your fingers for effect.

Stiles rolled his eyes but reached for your hands anyway, wrapping his own around them and squeezing gently. “There. Happy?”

“Very,” you said, your grin softening into something more genuine as you let him hold your hands. His were warm, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he shifted slightly to face you more fully.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The teasing had melted away, leaving behind a quiet sort of intimacy that made your chest ache in the best way.

“You know,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “You’re really good at this whole boyfriend thing.”

Stiles glanced up at you, his brow quirking slightly. “What, holding hands?”

“Yeah,” you said, your tone light but your smile genuine. “Among other things.”

He grinned at that, his fingers tightening around yours. “Well, you know. I try.”

“You do more than try,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

For once, Stiles didn’t have a snarky comeback. Instead, he just smiled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he gave your hands another squeeze. “You’re gonna give me an ego,” he said finally, though there was no real bite to his words.

“Good,” you said simply, leaning back into him as you tangled your fingers with his. “You deserve one.”

You flexed your fingers against Stiles’, noting how the chill had finally started to leave. “Okay, I think I’m defrosting. But seriously, when’s your dad gonna get off work and fix the heating? I’m not sure I can take much more of this.”

Stiles looked at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Well, you could go home, you know. Your house has this new thing—very cutting edge. It's called working heating.”

You rolled your eyes, squeezing his hands as you settled more firmly against him. “Oh, ha ha. Like I’m leaving you here to suffer alone.”

“Why not?” he teased, leaning back into the couch. “I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

You scoffed, shooting him a pointed look. “Yeah, right. I leave for five minutes, and you’d be texting me about how you’ve lost all feeling in your toes.”

“Okay, first of all,” he said, holding up one hand dramatically while still holding yours with the other, “You make it sound like I’m helpless, which is not true.”

“Sure, Stiles.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm, and he narrowed his eyes at you playfully.

“And second,” he continued, ignoring you, “Maybe I’d text you because I missed you and not because of my toes.”

Your teasing expression softened at that, and you shook your head fondly. “You’re ridiculous."

“Yeah, I am,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, Stiles didn’t say anything. He just looked at you, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. Then, finally, he spoke, his tone softer. “So… you really don’t want to leave?”

You shook your head. “Nope. Not even a little. Besides…” You leaned into him, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “It’s not so bad. Freezing cold, sure, but at least I’ve got you to keep me warm.”

Stiles let out a breathy laugh, his head tilting to rest against yours. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you teased, though your words lacked any real bite.

“I’m still texting my dad, though,” Stiles said after a beat, fishing for his phone with his free hand. “Because if this heating isn’t fixed soon, I’m pretty sure I’m going to turn into a popsicle.”

“You do that,” you murmured, your voice soft as you laced your fingers with his again, your grip warm and secure.

As the warmth finally returned to your hands, despite the amount of times Stiles' had ended up letting go of one of them, you let out a small sigh of relief, the biting cold of the morning forgotten for the first time since you’d started watching the movie. Absentmindedly, you let go of Stiles’ hand, rubbing your palms together as if to seal in the heat he’d so generously offered.

It wasn’t until you heard the soft, almost betrayed gasp that you realized what you’d done.

“Did you just—” Stiles’ voice was low, like he was trying to process the crime he’d just witnessed. “Did you seriously just use me? Like some kind of human hand-warmer?”

You blinked, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “Uh… yeah? My hands aren’t cold anymore, so—”

“Oh my God,” he interrupted, clutching his chest as though you’d shot him straight through the heart. His expression morphed into something so exaggeratedly hurt that it would’ve been laughable if not for the sheer conviction he poured into it. “Unbelievable. Unforgivable, even. I trusted you. I thought we had something special.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back on the couch as you watched him with thinly veiled amusement. “Stiles, it’s not that deep—”

“Not that deep?” he exclaimed, flailing his arms dramatically. “Not that deep?! Do you even remember rule four?”

With complete innocence, you tilted your head as if wracking your brain. “Hmm, rule four… was that the one about not stealing the last curly fry? Or the one about tickling you while driving?”

His jaw dropped, his hands falling to his sides as he stared at you like you’d just declared you were Team Edward instead of Team Jacob. “You’re joking. You’re joking. You’ve forgotten the most important rule of them all?”

“Refresh my memory,” you said, biting back a grin as you leaned your chin on your palm, thoroughly enjoying the show.

Stiles, for all his mock offense, was clearly in his element now. “Thou shalt not hold thy boyfriend’s hand just to warm up thy own freezing fingers and then let go once they’re toasty,” he recited, his voice taking on an air of reverence. “My hands are not a temporary rental service—they require long-term commitment. Hand-holding is a big deal, okay? A sacred act of love, comfort, and subtle flexing. If thou initiates contact, thou must maintain it for an appropriate amount of time—”

“Until you say so,” you finished for him, your lips twitching with suppressed laughter.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “Exactly! You remember, and yet you still broke the rule. Deliberately.”

You shrugged, letting your fingers hover near his hand, but not quite touching it. “Maybe I just wanted to see how dramatic you’d get about it.”

“Oh, you want drama?” he challenged, narrowing his eyes at you. “I’ll give you drama. I’ll pout. I’ll sigh. I’ll stare longingly at your hand for the rest of the day. Hell, I’ll beg if I have to. Pathetically.”

“You’re already doing that,” you pointed out, a laugh bubbling out of you despite your best efforts to keep a straight face.

He scowled, his expression so petulant that it only made you laugh harder. “This isn’t funny. My hand is literally dying of loneliness right now.”

Finally, you reached for his hand again, threading your fingers through his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “There. Better?”

“Much,” he said, though his pout didn’t fully disappear.

For a moment, you both sat in silence, your hand nestled comfortably in his. Stiles’ thumb started rubbing soft circles over your knuckles, and the faint pout on his lips gave way to a small, satisfied smile.

“I hate you,” you muttered, shaking your head fondly.

“You love me,” he shot back, his grin widening.

“Yeah, I do.”

That should’ve been enough to end the conversation, but of course, Stiles wasn’t done.

“You know,” he started, his voice taking on a contemplative tone, “I think this might be worse than the curly fry situation.”

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. “Worse? That was your sacred food, Stiles. I just let go of your hand for two seconds.”

“Exactly,” he said, puffing his chest like he’d just made an airtight argument. “At least with the curly fry thing, you kissed me first. There was, like, an attempt at negotiation. But this? This is just cold-blooded betrayal.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning over to press a soft kiss to the back of his hand. “There. Does that make up for it?”

He huffed, but his grin was impossible to miss. “A little. But you’ve got a lot more making up to do if you’re gonna regain my trust.”

“Oh, no,” you teased, your tone dripping with mock seriousness. “Whatever will I do without the trust of Stiles Stilinski?”

“I’m serious,” he said, though the laughter in his voice betrayed him. “You’re on thin ice, babe. One more violation, and I’m invoking the full wrath of the boyfriend code.”

“You do that,” you said, pressing another kiss to his hand. “In the meantime, I’ll just keep holding your hand forever and ever. Long-term commitment, right?”

He smiled then, soft and genuine, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just looked at you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again in a silent gesture that felt like an unspoken I love you.

“Forever and ever,” he finally murmured, leaning over to rest his head against yours. “But don’t think I’m forgetting about this. You’re still on notice.”

You let the quiet between you linger for a few beats, a smile tugging at your lips as you felt his thumb idly brushing against yours. Stiles’ hand was warm in yours, his earlier theatrics fading into something softer, something undeniably sweet. But then a thought struck you, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

“So, about this rule of yours…” you began, your tone casual, though the glint in your eye was anything but.

“Rule four,” Stiles corrected, already perking up like he was gearing up for another debate. “The cornerstone of any respectable relationship, yes.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, tilting your head and pretending to think it over. “Don’t you think it’s a little… one-sided?”

His brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. “One-sided? What are you talking about? It’s a perfect rule. Fool proof. Like, the relationship equivalent of the Ten Commandments.”

You snorted. “Right, because ‘thou shalt not let go of Stiles’ hand until he says so’ is super fair and balanced.”

“It is!” he said, nodding vehemently. “It’s about commitment. Dedication. A promise to—”

“Control,” you interrupted, raising an eyebrow at him.

He blinked, thrown off course. “Wait, what?”

You shrugged, looking far too pleased with yourself as you continued. “I mean, by your own wording, you get to decide when hand-holding stops. Not me. Not us. Just you.”

“Well, yeah,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s how rules work. Someone has to enforce them.”

“But isn’t this a relationship?” you asked, leaning in slightly as your voice dropped to something softer, almost teasing. “Isn’t it supposed to be equal? You know—teamwork? Mutual involvement? Shared control?”

Stiles’ mouth opened, then closed again. For once, he didn’t have an immediate comeback, and you seized the opportunity to press further.

“Think about it,” you said, lacing your fingers with his and giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “If we’re equals, shouldn’t I get a say in when the hand-holding stops?”

He stared at you, his eyes narrowing as he realized he was cornered. “Okay, first of all, that’s cheating—using logic against me like that. Second of all, no one’s ever complained about this rule before.”

You grinned. “I’m your first relationship, Stiles. No one else has had the chance to.”

His lips parted as if to argue, but you cut him off, bringing his hand up to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it.

“Besides,” you murmured, your voice dropping to a low, teasing hum, “if anyone’s going to decide when we stop, shouldn’t it be me? I mean, you’re the one who said you’d beg if you had to.”

His eyes widened, and a faint flush crept up his neck. “Wait a second—”

“You did say that, right?” you interrupted, tilting your head in faux innocence. “Pathetically, if I remember correctly.”

“Okay, hold on—”

You cut him off again, leaning in closer until your faces were inches apart, your tone soft but undeniably smug. “So, Stiles, if you really want me to keep holding your hand, I think you know what you have to do.”

His mouth opened and closed again, a series of sputtered half-words escaping him before he finally groaned, dropping his head forward onto your shoulder. “Oh my God, you’re evil.”

“You love it,” you countered, your grin widening as you gave his hand another squeeze.

“I hate that you’re right,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched in a reluctant smile.

“Come on,” you urged, your voice taking on a sing-song quality. “Say the magic words.”

He groaned again, his head tipping backward as he glared at you with mock indignation. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Maybe,” you admitted, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand. “But rules are rules, right? And if you’re going to enforce them, you’d better be ready to play by them too.”

Stiles huffed, his eyes darting away as if debating whether or not his pride could take the hit. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he mumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?” you teased, leaning closer.

“I said, please,” he repeated, his voice louder this time but dripping with exaggerated dramatics. “Please don’t let go of my hand. Please, keep holding it forever and ever. Please, please, please. I need your hands. Are you happy now?”

You laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made his pout falter. “Very,” you said, pressing another kiss to his knuckles before settling back beside him into the couch.

Stiles grumbled something incoherent, though the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “This is going in the boyfriend code,” he muttered.

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, your tone playful. “Right under the part about how I get to make the rules from now on.”

“Don’t push your luck,” he warned, though his hands tightened around yours, as if letting go wasn’t even an option anymore.

Stiles sighed, leaning back into the couch and pulling your joined hands into his lap, his thumb tracing soft patterns over your knuckles. His earlier dramatics had melted away, replaced by a quiet contentment that made his brown eyes warm and soft as they glanced over at you.

“You know,” he said after a moment, his voice low and affectionate, “For all the grief you give me, I really lucked out with you.”

You smiled, tilting your head to rest on his shoulder. “You’re just now figuring that out?”

“Hey,” he protested, though there was no real heat behind it. “I’ve always known. It’s just… days like this? They remind me.”

His fingers squeezed yours lightly, his other hand coming up to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch was so tender, so uncharacteristically delicate, it made your chest tighten in the best way.

“I love you,” he said, the words so simple and sincere they left no room for teasing.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice just as soft, just as sure.

For a while, neither of you said anything more. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was warm and full, broken only by the sound of your steady breaths and the occasional rustle of the blanket draped over both your laps.

Eventually, Stiles shifted, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. When he pulled back, his eyes were bright and full of that boyish charm you adored.

“Okay, but seriously,” he said, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a grin, “Next time we have a relationship negotiation, I’m bringing a lawyer.”

You laughed, swatting at his chest as he grinned even wider. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” he shot back, pulling you closer until you were half-curled against him.

“Forever,” you agreed, your voice soft and full of promise.

He didn’t respond—not verbally, anyway. Instead, he pressed another kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you as if to say, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

[patrickstumphf]

I mean…. if bigoted statements don’t contribute to the plot or add to the character, it’s undoubtedly because these statements align with the author’s beliefs. If we’re using Beagin (who wrote Big Swiss) as an example, she also had no way to excuse her racism during a book club Q&A. Straight up tried to gloss over it, which shows that it had no purpose.

I disagree that casual racism is a necessary evil for “morally grey” characters because it depends on the writer’s purpose and intention. Satire is when a character does something that’s clearly wrong, and they eventually experience a comeuppance as a result. More often than not, there are “straight men” characters who expose how terrible these characters arethey’re being.

Moreover, writers create good satire when they acknowledge their potential biases. When this is not the case, they deserve to be fairly critiqued.

In the case of this Instagram post, I would strongly agree that unfounded bigotry is not necessary. In particular, it does not add to the plot of Big Swiss. The reason why it’s there is because the author wants it to be there.

Overall, it’s disappointing to see someone discredit a person of color who expanded upon something that rightfully makes them uncomfortable. We don’t voice these thoughts for fun. Being irresponsible with your platform as a writer is reckless, especially now.

so, i saw this post on instagram and my response is just the hardest disagree ever... you want characters who are morally black, or unhinged, or problematic, but you don’t want them to do, say, or think truly problematic, prejudiced things? listen, you cannot call for unlikeable characters in media who only do tasteful evils like murder but not uncomfortable evils like racism or hate speech. you cannot call for novels with characters who are acknowledged to be problematic and at the same time demand only a socially acceptable and clean form of problematic behavior. the reality of messy, problematic characters isn’t to have the reader root for or against these characters or even internalize their ideas. the point of these problematic characters is to reveal the harshness and complexity of the world, not to reinforce moral or political ideals. you cannot explore the truth of society and people in books if you will only accept characters who are sanitized of reality.

[spiralsandeyes]

jude perry....

[tardis--dreams]

There's been interesting developments at work and i need to do a lot of work for university so i think tonight is the Perfect time to finish beyond evil

[crescenthistory]

hi angel!!!! absolutely adore your blog and especially the way you write for regulus 🥹🥹 makes my heart so happy, like that’s baby boy!!!! thank you so much for sharing with us!!! i have a prompt request but only if you feel so inclined!!! number d8 “where is she?" with regulus, pretty please, like maybe something happens to reader and he is the last to find out (busy w quidditch or prefer things) so when someone finally tracks him down being like your girl needs you, his composure is for once non existent and he is panicking!!!! ughhh hurt/comfort with reg is everything!!! anyway only if you feel my up to my love no pressure ever - love your blog regardless 💗💗💗

hi my love<33 this is hands down the sweetest request i have received, thank you so much for being so kind 🤍🤍 i genuinely appreciate your words so much! as for the request, i adore some hurt/comfort with reg, and this is an idea i've had for a while, so it was so fun to write

Prompt: D.8 "Where is she?"

Words: 6k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, severe injury (happens off screen, explained and treated on screen), lacerations, typical regulus anxiety (overworked), best friends to lovers, pomfrey being a badass, snape is a villain, animal abuse (technically), background marlene, rosekiller, etc.

It was common knowledge that Slytherin quidditch practice was never to be disturbed, especially this close to the final match of the season against Gryffindor.

This was Regulus’ first year as captain and he was determined for it to be written in the history books as a victorious one, to make himself deserving of the title. Playing opposite his brother and his best friends didn’t lessen the pressure much, either. 

He knew he had been pushing the team quite hard, but he also knew that if anyone could handle it, it was them. Evan and Barty funnelled all their chaotic energy into quidditch once they realised just how much it mattered for their mate, and Dorcas had just as much to gain from winning against Marlene as Regulus had against Sirius. Fenwick had had his skull bashed in by enough bludgers in his career to not be able to formulate any complaints, even if he had them. The rest of the team were relatively young players, a risk most others had chastised Regulus for taking, but one that was playing off beautifully – and with those rumours, they wanted to prove themselves, too. 

There really was little problem with this arrangement, he told himself, other than the fact that he was perhaps wearing himself a bit thin when balancing it all with his prefect duties and exams.

And, more importantly, missing you.

You had been the best friend he could have asked for during this hectic year of his, always standing by his side, just as much of a loyal team-player as those on his actual sports team. That unwavering dedication you had shown him over the years that taught him that maybe, just maybe, he was capable of being loved – and most definitely of loving, because Regulus would be damned if he didn’t admit that that was the only appropriate word for how he felt about you.

Not that he had told you that yet, though, and neither had you. It was never the right time, and you both knew, at least to some degree. For now, it was enough. You had each other, always, and it was enough. He told himself as much, at least.

Regulus was trying to zero his thoughts back on his team running through their plays off-broom on the ground, looking for any weakness in their formation, when the cardinal rule of not disturbing practice was broken.

“Black!” A voice shouted as it ran across the pitch from the school. 

Regulus squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will the pestering fourth year away, one of those who just seemed to always be there, nameless and bothersome. It was to little avail, though, judging by the sounds of his heavy steps hitting the still somewhat moist dirt on the field.

“Black, I have to–”

“We are in the middle of a practice!” Regulus cut the kid off, letting his nerves get the better of him as he saw most of his players stop in the midst of what had been their best run-through so far. “Unless someone has died, it can wait.”

“But–”

“Has someone died?” Regulus had his hands on his hips, half aware that he looked way too much like his older brother as he regarded the student-shaped owl in front of him with derision. 

“No, but–”

“Are someone in the midst of dying? Like within the hour?”

“N– no.”

“Then you may leave.” The student looked thoroughly confused, clearly not having been properly warned by whoever sent him as a make-shift owl that this was the only response he would be getting from Regulus. He could vaguely hear you whispering poor boy in his mind, always advocating for Regulus’ softer side, but right now he pushed it away as he turned back to his teammates. “Whatever it is will still be there when we are finished up here.”

Regulus didn’t wait for him to go before he began to pretend he was air, attention fully on his team once more.

Barty snickered as he tried to lean his chin on Evan’s shoulder, only to have the taller boy fully shove him off. Regulus shook his head, ignoring the crestfallen student beside him as he tried to increase his energy levels back to where they needed to be.

“Okay, that last round was getting closer to where we want to be. Ready to take to the sky for the last few minutes?”

When he finally stepped foot inside the quidditch locker rooms, Regulus sped through his shower routine. He was eager to get out of there and back to the dorms quick enough to have sufficient time to spend with you before going to sleep. He had half a mind to ask you to sleep in his bed tonight, but he wondered if that might be pushing it since you just did that a few nights ago. Nothing ever happened, of course, you were just the best of friends – and even if you had been something more, it was hard for anything to happen with Evan and Barty in the same room.

You just brought him a sense of peace he found himself craving more day by day. He wished to squeeze out every ounce of it he possibly could.

His hair was still wet, bag thrown about as haphazardly over his shoulder as he could allow himself to without spiralling – which is to say, he still looked perfectly polished to anyone but him. He turned to give the team lingering behind an attempt at an emphatic great work today that ended up falling a bit short from his hoarse voice. Thankfully, everyone else seemed tired enough to accept it without reservation, and Regulus could exit the changing room before all but running towards the Slytherin dorms. 

On his way there, he passed through the Great Hall, attempting to slow his stride to look a bit more composed, but quite ready to throw all of it away for the night just to curl up with you.

“Re- Regulus?!”

Sirius’ incredulous voice sounded behind him, and though Regulus loved his brother dearly, he took a deep sigh at the disturbance, knowing that, with him, it would likely not be a short one.

“That would be me.” Regulus turned around with a sarcastic half-smile, only for it to waver when he saw the expression on Sirius’ face. 

There was an evident tension in his face when he looked Regulus up and down, as if trying to figure him out while a thousand thoughts ran through his mind. Sirius’ lips were pressed tight, as if holding back a severe frown and his eyes were decidedly clouded with worry.

“Reg, what are you doing here?” His voice conveyed more confusion than upset, but both were woven into his tone.

“I’m… on my way to Slytherin? We just finished practice.” 

It was as if Sirius found an answer to his confusion as his face settled into a form of defeat. “You don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” Regulus stared his brother down, heart speeding up in his chest, but he could feel it in his whole body. “What is it, Siri?”

“James sent someone to tell you,” Sirius says, speaking more to himself.

“Tell me what?” Regulus’ patience was worn thin by his pulse straining his skin.

“Uh, it’s Y/N.” Pangs shot through his body, pulling every vein taut. “She– she will be fine, don’t worry, but–”

“Where is she?”

Regulus struggled to make out where Sirius stood in front of him as the world seemed to tunnel around him and his mind was immediately elsewhere, immediately with his best girl, imagining any possible horror that might have overcome you. Had it not been for Sirius’ delivery of the news and the way he looked at Regulus, he might have felt more calm. But he had always known his big brother to be more composed than this.

“The infirmary–”

He didn’t need to hear more before he was running at full speed down the hallway.

Little to nothing registered with Regulus on the way to the infirmary, that he for the first time in his life realised was located painfully far away from the Great Hall. Illogical, given how many students go through there throughout their days. 

He felt lighter than ever as he was entirely certain he had never run this quickly in his life, simultaneously as every limb felt heavy with worry. 

She will be fine is only reassuring if he was concerned you had died – in every other scenario it is the worst thing to hear, because it confidently means you are not fine right now.

Regulus is half aware that he has run through two ghosts, into one student and past a professor – he thinks maybe Flitwick? – but he paid none of them any mind, willing to take the point deductions or even detentions, if only they don’t slow him down. He can deal with everything and anything else later. 

When he finally reached the door to the infirmary, it took everything in him to come to a halt. 

He all but crashed into the door, catching himself with one hand on the doorframe as he breathed heavy, giving himself but two seconds to collect himself, lest he be banned from the infirmary by life by Madam Pomfrey. That was not something he could afford right now.

Still heaving, he opened the door and took two steps inside – before his vision became entirely swamped by that very same woman, standing with her hands on her hips.

“Is she here?” He tried to get out before she could say anything.

“No visitors at the moment,” Madam Pomfrey said sternly.

“Please, is she here?” Regulus couldn’t even think to say your name, but the look on the matron’s face told him she knew.

“She is, and she is alright, but there will be no visitors at the moment.” Her voice was a bit softer now, but she was not relenting and she was not moving.

Regulus’ breath picked back up, and he didn’t register the tears that were forming in his eyes. A choked please was forming on his tongue when–

“Please.”

You beat him to it. Your meek voice sounded from a few curtains down behind Madam Pomfrey. Regulus didn’t hear the noise that escaped him when he heard the soft pain in your usually chipper voice, but the matron did. Still, it seemed to be on your account and not the lovestruck, fear-sickened boy in front of her, that she took a step to the side.

“Only you, and it must be brief.”

Her words were mostly caught by the air that Regulus left in his wake the moment she moved to the side, because as soon as he could he was by the curtain he had heard you speak from behind, ever so gently pulling it to the side.

“Oh, mon amour.”

The sight he was faced with both mended and broke his heart – because you were there, awake and already looking at him, but your forehead and right arms were bandaged and your face bore telltale signs of pain. He could see tear tracks down your delicate cheeks, mascara smudging just barely beneath your eyes. You looked happy to see him, he could see your chest heave a breath of relief, but that was about the only positive thing he could decipher in you at the moment.

At last, his movements were measured and careful again, but for once not for the sake of how he was perceived, but rather to not disturb the space around you, as if that could lessen your pain. He barely managed to close the curtain behind him with trembling hands, giving you a semblance of privacy, even in this infirmary that he had no idea hosted how many others.

There was enough space on the left side of the bed beside you for Regulus to take his rightful place by your side, as close as he dared. His eyes kept jumping all over your body and face, breath hitched.

Your name escaped his lips in a small breath as his eyes widely roamed your form.

He didn’t realise his hand was hovering between you before you reached up to him with your left hand and took it in yours. Your grip was weak and the tips of your fingers cold, but it was still the smooth skin he was used to feeling on his.

Upon your touch, he seemed to be brought back down to earth and the welling tears spilled down his cheeks.

“Oh, Reggie,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay, I’m alright.”

“My poor love,” he whispered back, letting his free hand move up to lightly caress your cheek, brushing some damp hair away. It must have gotten wet when Pomfrey tended to whatever wound was bandaged on your upper forehead. “What happened to you, amour?”

Regulus often referred to you with terms of endearment, you knew you were each other’s person, but the absolute softness of them now broke your heart a little.

“It was…” you trailed off, wincing as you scrunched your brows in confusion and consequently pulled on your bandage. “It was an accident.” The sound that escaped you was almost a laugh, but it was too wet and strangled to truly be classified as such.

“What happened?” Regulus’ voice urged, more desperate than before. He held your hand tighter, bringing it closer to his chest, as if to protect it.

“We were helping Kettleburn – unwillingly mind you –”

“Who are we?” Regulus cuts you off, still seeming rather feverish in his desperation to know what was wrong. You squeezed his hand and smiled at him to calm him down. 

“An unfortunate bunch of us who happened to be enjoying the fresh air by the benches. Me, Lily, Marlene, Snape, Avery and some others we don’t really know too well, mostly fourth years.”

Regulus scowled at the mention of Snape and Avery, but nodded, as if encouraging you to continue.

“Kettleburn needed some help preparing bait. He believed there was a hippogriff in the Forbidden Forest that he wanted to draw out. It worked a bit too well, a bit too well.”

His brows scrunched at that. “But hippogriffs are mainly peaceful unless you disturb them?” Unease was growing in his stomach.

“Yes, that’s what I said as well,” you feel a bout of dizziness come over you, but try and speak through it. “We were down, probably a bit too close to the forest when it came out. I tried to push the bait towards it carefully, keeping my distance. It just wanted food, you know.”

“But?”

“But Snape and Avery freaked. When it took a step closer, just to eat – they let curses fly, kneejerk self defence reaction they said.”

Regulus had to be mindful to not hurt your hand as his fists clenched on reflex. He settled for holding the sheets beside him disturbingly hard instead – he had already pieced together what happened. “You were still in the line of fire,” he concluded, eyes darkening.

“Yes,” you whispered weakly. “It would have been fine, if it had only been a stupefy or something, but Snape shouted something else, some freak hex. It was like being slashed with a knife all over.”

Regulus’ breath hitched as he let his eyes travel from gauze to gauze. His fingers came up to linger near a particularly large bandage that travelled from your shoulder in under your hospital gown. “All over?” His voice was a mere whisper before he finally looked in your eyes again. He found them teary, and his heart clenched painfully.

“Yeah, I– The biggest one is across my stomach. Pomfrey has patched me up nicely, but it was, uh, it wasn’t good.”

He can’t fight the new tears that spill as he whispers my girl before carefully shuffling closer to you to give you a hug, or at least as close to one you could get right now. His cheek is pressed into yours, his hand on the back of your head, and you can hear him cry directly into your ear, drawing tears from you as well. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into you. “So sorry, amour.”

“Reggie, there was nothing you could do,” you try to look at him, but his grip on your head remains steadfast.

“No, I should have been there. I’m so sorry.” He presses a kiss to your upper cheek, and his lips are wet. “I should’ve been there.”

“Reg, there was no way anyone could have known.”

He pulls back slightly, looking you over to see if he was hurting you before settling in with his forehead against yours – making sure to avoid the wound in the top left. When his eyes look into yours, you feel a sense of calm finally wash over your body that had been riddled by the shock of being torn open. A grey safe haven.

“I’m sorry, amour.” He keeps saying it like a prayer.

You try to shake your head, but wince at the action. His hand immediately shoots up to your jaw, to still your head. Protecting you, even from yourself. “You’re not allowed to be sorry, Reg, you didn’t do anything. You can only feel sorry for me, which isn’t quite that hard. I look pathetic right now.”

Your half-hearted attempt at humour doesn’t seem to drag him from his despair as his eyes keep searching your face, flitting from the tears to the deviating makeup. His thumb, ever so carefully, drags under your eye to wipe away some of the mascara there. You lean into his touch.

“They tried to tell me, but I– I didn’t know, so I didn’t listen and–”

“You were at quidditch practice,” you cut him off. “Everyone knows you can’t be disturbed then.”

Regulus looked at you incredulously. “This is disturb-worthy, you – anything with you is always the biggest priority. I’m sorry.”

“One girl versus preparing for the match of your life? Hm, I think it’s good you weren’t distracted.” You are determined to lighten his mood, the sinch of his eyebrows and worry in his eyes were beginning to make you feel sick for him.

“But you’re my girl,” he says in a low voice, stressing the words as if to pour additional meaning. “You’re my best friend, my everything. Y/N, you are everything.”

You struggle to come up with a response to that. Any mask Regulus switches between is completely discarded in this small infirmary section with you. When he holds your face and looks at you, you know what it is.

Unable to speak over the lump in your throat, you just drag his face closer to press a sweet kiss to his cheek, as always.

Except this time, while your lips linger on his cheek, Regulus uses his hand still on your jaw to angle your face towards his. With your lips millimetres apart, he looks from them to your eyes, searching for something, and then back down. He whispers another soft everything before pressing his lips to yours.

For all the times you had thought of kissing Regulus, nothing compared. You never expected there to be salty from tears, you never imagined his scent in your nose to be swirled with the disinfectant covering everything around you – but he was right, it was everything. His lips were unbelievably soft against yours, even as he pushed himself even closer to you, as if he needed you underneath his skin, not just on top of it. The pinky underneath your jaw digs into your skin, and you can feel your pulse beat against his finger.

When Regulus pulls away, your mouths are still essentially connected, slightly parted, just breathing into each other. You open your eyes and find him looking at you with nothing short of love.

“I–”

“I love you.” You cut him off, smiling a bit as he half feigns indignance before it turns soft once more.

“I love you, belle fille.”

“I know.”

Finally, finally he gives you a genuine smile. It eases your nerves more than even his eyes could, and you feel yourself melting back into your pillow. Unfortunately, comfort makes you even more aware of the pain and soreness in your body, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, mostly to himself it seems.

“I won’t allow that.” You tug your intertwined hands closer to you, wanting to share the comfort with him. “I’m alright, Reggie.”

“You’re wounded and bandaged.”

“And I’m perfectly okay.”

He gives you an as if look, but it’s good enough for you, for now. Then his face twisted into something darker and you saw the same desperation from earlier bubbling to the surface.

“What happened to Snape? And Avery?” His hold on you is still soft and caring, but the rest of his body has grown stiff, mind racing with imagined visions of what went down and of what he would do with them in return.

“Nothing yet,” you said with a careful, measured voice. “Kettleburn wanted to ease the situation first, but since it was technically his fault for bringing us along unprompted, I’m not sure what would be done. Detention maybe?”

“Yeah, Kettleburn’s an idiot for that, but Snape was the one who used an unorthodox and probably dark hex. He has to be dealt with.”

Though you don’t condone how fast some of your friends resorted to revenge and violence, even you had to admit that the idea of Snape knowing magic like that didn’t sit right with you either. There was no situation you could imagine where a slasher spell like that would be moral in combat. 

“I’m sure they will deal with him tomorrow,” you settle on. “Tonight the main priority seemed to be making sure I don’t bleed out on the grounds.”

Regulus’ look was pained as he pressed his lips together. “How did you get in after that anyway?”

“I don’t remember too well.” You truly didn’t, and the flashes that went through your mind were not ones Regulus would be better off knowing about. “Kettleburn shushed the Hippogriff back into the forest – it thankfully didn’t get severely injured it seemed – while everyone else panicked. Lily and Marlene were the first ones by my side.”

You both smile absentmindedly at that. When you first befriended Lily through your study sessions at the library, Regulus had been unsure of how to approach your joint integration into his brother’s friend group, but the girls had turned out to be some of the best friends you could have asked for. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, almost straddling Regulus. “Almost forgot, but you’ll be happy to know that Marlene suckerpunched Snape before they brought me inside with a levitation spell. Pretty gnarly punch, too.”

Regulus’ smiled seemed to be less from gratification and more from endearment from you. “I think I’d like to see Snape get a little more than a punch for what he did to you. But that’s a great start, darling.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him. “It’s a start. And again, we can deal with all of that tomorrow. I don’t have the energy today.”

“No, no, you are the only priority right now, amour.” Any mirth slipped from his face as he studied you concernedly once more.

“I know you’re “alright”, but you’re not alright” he started. “Could you tell me where it hurt the most?” He looks over you again, as if he can map you out and fight your pain off, spot by spot.

“My stomach and chest got it worst,” you admit. “It’s growing more sore, but Madam said I could get more pain relief in just a little while.”

“Well, she also said I could only stay here for a short while,” he whispers conspiratorially, looking towards the curtain as if he expected it to be ripped back any minute. “Pretty sure we’re way past that.”

“Maybe she heard us crying like babies over a non-fatal injury and figured it was less of a hassle to leave us to it.” You squeeze Regulus’ thigh with a grin and he bites back a yelp.

“She would be wise to do so. Especially because there’s no bloody way I’m leaving.”

You don’t say much to that because you really, really don’t want him to either. You know you are fine, and for his sake you try and seem even more assured of it, but the white panic that soared through your veins those first few minutes is hard to shake. Even though you don’t want him to hold his absence against himself, you don’t like the thought of him leaving now that he was there.

“Has she said anything about a treatment plan? How long you’ll be here? She said you’re fine, so it shouldn’t be too long right?” Though Regulus looks at you as he asks his questions, you know he is already trying to piece together probable answers in his head.

“Most of our first conversation was her narrating what she was doing while I was moaning and not listening.” Your comment was off-handed, but Regulus seemed to wince at the image it painted in his head. “Sorry,” you mumbled bashfully, but he just gave you a smile.”

“Good thing I have the memory of an elephant, then.” Madam Pomfrey’s voice sounded just seconds before she ripped the curtain back and stepped into your little bubble. 

Regulus went straight into autopilot, rightening his posture and schooling his expression. You squeezed his hand tighter, so that he couldn’t pull away, but that had not even been any option in his mind. Pomfrey went through the station beside you at the speed of light, way too familiar and comfortable with these procedures.

“Miss L/N had 5 deep lacerations and several shallow ones,” she begins to recite and Regulus hangs onto every word. “The shallow wounds are almost entirely gone from the treatment already, but the more severe ones will need time to recover. She will have to stay in the infirmary overnight today and tomorrow for observation and continue to receive some medication. Among those are pain potions and salves for the wounds. Rebandage every 10 hours and apply new salves.”

“How will that affect her?” Regulus asked, probably pushing his luck with the matron.

“The pain potions will make her a bit slow and groggy, but she will still be awake. Though she should sleep.” At that she gives you a curt look over her shoulder. “The healing process for the wounds will likely be itchy and uncomfortable and she may develop a fever. We will pay particularly close attention to the stomach wounds in case she develops any infections there.”

“What are the symptoms of infections like that?”

You try and pat Regulus’ leg to say down, boy, but he doesn’t give you the time of day, instead focusing fully on any and all information the matron is willing to share with him. You had half a mind to joke that this was private medical information, but let it be.

Madam Pomfrey turns to Regulus at his fourth question, putting her hands on her hips as she measured him closely. It seemed like she decided on something and the next second she exited through the curtains again. You and Regulus barely had time to exchange a glance before she came back and threw a white coat at Regulus who catched it bewilderedly.

“Seems like I’ve got myself an assistant for the remainder of her stay, haven’t I, Mr. Black?”

A slow smile spreads across Regulus’ face before he hurries on the coat. “Yes, Madam.”

Pomfrey talks you – and now, Regulus – through the new pain potion she is about to give you, giving brief background on the ingredients, application and effect when the door to the infirmary slams open, decidedly louder than when Regulus entered earlier. Her eyes squeeze shut, as if pained by the disrespect and incredulity of students, but finished giving you the potion.

“That is no way to enter an infirmary, Mr. Crouch,” she says through half-gritted teeth as she works. She waves at Regulus to open the curtain to your bed, revealing Barty, Evan and Dorcas, all heaving as if they have been running too. “You seem to be particularly loved, Miss L/N. Please never get injured again, it disturbs my workspace.”

Your friends’ eyes are wide as they take in your form where you lay, still rather pathetically, in your bed. 

“Merlin’s tits, what happened?” Dorcas asks.

At the same time Barty’s gaze flits between you and Regulus. “Who?” he asks, while looking at you.

“I–” you start, but that was clearly the wrong answer because he then immediately turns to Regulus instead.

“Who?”

There is no hesitation in Regulus’ voice. “Snape.”

Barty’s face morphs from shock and concern into pure determination. He stalks over to you in three wide steps, pressing a quick kiss to the safe side of your forehead, whispering a quiet take care, Treasure, before turning around and dragging Evan out of the infirmary. The other boy’s jaw was ticked shut and went more than willingly.

Even you felt a bit bad for Snape in that moment.

Madam Pomfrey, however, only breathed a sigh of relief that they left so quickly.

Dorcas comes up between you and Regulus, sitting on the very edge of your bed. Pomfrey, with Regulus’ assistance return to the work on your bedside station, though his eyes are on you almost the whole time. He has that furrow between his brows that shows up whenever he focuses intently, and you are torn between wanting to kiss it and draw it.

“We met Marls and Lily in the hallway,” Dorcas explains. “They got halfway through their story before Junior took off with us on leash behind us.”

“Sounds like him,” you laugh, trying to hide how the rumble hurts you. “But really, I’m totally fine. Or, I’m relatively good, and will soon be alright.”

“Yeah, especially when you’ve got two nurses to tend to you,” Dorcas teases, casting Regulus a knowing sideways glance.

“Pardon you, Miss Meadows; I am a Healer.” 

You can’t help the snort that escapes you. Despite never wanting to return to this infirmary, you had grown quite fond of the Madam.

“My deepest apologies, Madam,” Dorcas offered with a gleam in her eyes. You could have sworn you saw Pomfrey smile ever so slightly.

“But yeah, Dorc, I’m well taken care of. I’ll be fine.”

“Firstly, just because you’re wounded does not mean you can get away with calling me that.” You laugh once more, happy to not be treated like a dying animal even in such a grave hour. “Secondly, I’m glad. You deserve it, and it was about damn time.”

You pretend to not understand what the last part referred to, but you knew she got you all figured out. You squeeze her leg in a sign of admiration and, perhaps, defeat.

“Thirdly,” Regulus interjects. “You need to either not make her laugh or leave.”

Pomfrey nodded emphatically. 

“Not my fault your girl just finds me absolutely hilarious, Black.” Dorcas winks at you.

“Speaking of someone’s girl,” you drawl, trying to even the playing field, which worked, if Dorcas’ light blush was anything to go off of. “Please tell Marlene I say thank you. I don’t think I got to in the whirl of everything and then everyone was thrown out.”

Dorcas’ smile softens. “I will, babe, but you don’t have to thank her. She’s still a bit worried though, so I’ll tell everyone you’re doing fine.”

“Thanks,” you whisper through a smile, accepting Dorcas’ half-hug before she slips out of the infirmary, which finally returns to its prior quietude.

“That’s enough visitors for today!” Pomfrey explains, clapping her hands together as she is done. “Only staff and patients for the rest of the night.” She shoots Regulus and his white coat a knowing glance.

“Does that mean I can sleep?” You don’t mean for your voice to sound so meek, but the pain potion is starting to work, and the more your body relaxes, the more exhausted you realise you are.

Regulus makes a soft cooing sign, coming back to sit on the side of your bed, taking your hand in his and drawing comforting circles on its back. “Yes, amour. We have prepared the station for when we have to wake you in a few hours for reapplication.”

You groan a bit at the thought of being woken, and both your matron and her assistant laugh a bit at you. 

“Better that than affection, Miss L/N.”

“Yes, of course,” you relent, letting out a heavy sigh. “Thank you. For all of it.”

Pomfrey merely nods before gathering her things and exiting into the rest of the infirmary, pulling your curtain shut behind you. You expect that is the closest she usually gets to a you’re welcome and you accept it heartily.

Regulus shifts into a more comfortable position beside you, back against your headboard, ensuring you are as comfortable and pain-free as possible. He brings your intertwined fingers up to his lips to press delicate butterfly kisses to them. The softness of it all makes you almost want to cry again, but you bite it back, purely because you can’t stand seeing Regulus cry again tonight, and you knew he would.

“Congratulations on your promotion.” Your tire does not hide the coyness of your tone and he smiles fondly at you.

“Thank you. Think she figured it was easier that way – and I have always been a top student.”

“Yeah, yeah, you and your OWLs.” You turn your head more towards him, smiling. “Such a nerd.”

“I reckon you like that about me.”

“I reckon the same.”

You lean forward and he meets you halfway for a slow kiss. The casualness of it makes it feel all the more important, especially when the past few hours of your life has been anything but.

He leans his head onto yours, drawing you as close as he can with your current circumstances.

“I’m sorry,” Regulus whispers again and you shake your head beneath his. Before you can tell him no, he continues. “Not just for what happened to you or not being there. Just, I don’t know. Being slow.”

“Didn’t we just agree you were bright?” you tease, but when you turn to see the sincerity in his eyes, you soften. “It’s okay, Regulus. We were both slow.”

Neither of you feel compelled to delve into the details of it, and it makes you feel more at ease. Even with everything, this was just how it was supposed to be.

“I’m glad I have you.” It is the best way to summarise it; it was enough. He smiles warmly at you.

“And I you.” 

You ignore the strain of some of your bandages as you lean closer to kiss him again, where he meets you enthusiastically – it was worth it.

“Go to sleep now, amour. I’ll be here to ease you awake when the time comes. I’ll always be here.”

And he was.

[youngheejay]

Dad and Husband responsibilities

Where Jay could never leave you alone pregnant - even if he missed his members dearly

Starring: Jay x pregnant fem!reader [married] + 3yo son Taesan + enha members

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Jay snorted as he couldn’t stop laughing and cackling at the jokes the boys were cracking. After hearing him snort another round of laughter erupted. He tried to calm himself down, clutching his stomach in pain as a few tears escaped his eyes from all the excessive laughing.

“Wow, hyung, I don’t remember this. How come manager didn’t caught you?” Riki asked with a grin and curious wide eyes. Jay smirked at the memory.

“He caught him! There was this huge tension for a few days between the managers because Jiwoo Hyung didn’t scold him and the others were pissed at him!” Jake explained energetically in a loud voice, almost shouting. Normally, Jay would’ve shut him down but at that moment, as he was in a state of glee, he didn’t care.

“Yeah, I got caught because in the next morning I was totally hungover and still wasted. I missed that one event- what was it?”

“The prada store event.” Jungwon rolled his eyes in amusement as he remembered receiving all the nagging from management. Back then he was furious at Jays behaviour but now it was definitely a story to reminisce and laugh about.

“Yeah, yeah, Jiwoo hyung found me dead in the hotelroom and then-“

“What’s dead, appa?”

All of the seven men whipped their head at a record-breaking speed and looked at the 3 year old with shock written all over their faces.

Jay internally face palmed himself. He totally forgot that his son was in the same room as them as Taesan was previously occupied with his drawing. Usually, the toddler wouldn’t even look up during his focused drawings and, therefore, whenever he called him for dinner, Jay would have to interrupt his art sessions by taking away his drawings.

He probably got distracted from all the loud noises, Jay assumed.

“It’s nothing, buddy,” Jay quickly tried to dismiss his question as he knew that this is not the time and place to answer his sons philosophical questions, and because he knew you’d kill him if you’d find out that he used such expressions in-front of your son.

“Hm,” Taesan pouted but luckily he was too tired to think any longer as he abandoned his play table and waddled towards his dad in a sleepy manner. Jay reached out to him from his spot on the couch and sat him on his lap.

“Tired? Wanna sleep?” Jay brushed the younger ones hair with his fingers and glanced at the clock.

7:13 pm, I should put him to sleep now. He played a lot today with his uncles.

And his uncles defined ‘playing’ not in a classical way but more in a wrestling-taekwondo-kick-boxing-throwingthekidintheair-kind of way.

“No!!!” Taesan whined and kicked his feet. “I don’t wanna sweep appa!!! I wanna pway!!! I wanna pway with uncwle!!!”

Any other day Jay wouldn’t have tolerated this behaviour and would’ve sent him to prepare for his bed-time.

Jay could be a very strict dad sometimes, especially when it came to bed-time. He just knew that his son couldn’t handle staying up too late.

But today he felt like an exception would be appropriate. Taesan missed his uncles just as much as Jay missed his brothers.

“Alright, son, but clean up your play table first, then brush your teeth and change your clothes already.”

“Okey!” Taesan hopped off of his lap and with new found energy he left the living room to climb up the stairs leading to his own room.

Jay shook his head in amusement as he took note on how Taesan skipped the first task on purpose.

“This kid,” he muttered and shook his head again when he saw his child climbing the stairs on all fours whilst imitating dog noises - something he’s never done before. Leaving Jay to wonder from where he picked that.

“Sooo? Don’t leave me hanging? What happened next?”

“Hm?” Jay turned his head back to his friends and faced Riki. “Ah,” he started to smirk again. “Then nothing, I got caught and received a penalty,” he mumbled in a rushed and quiet tone.

Riki almost didn’t caught what he said, “what?” He squinted his eyes at the anti climax and was disappointed at the fact that his hyung wasn’t telling the full story.

Seeing his expression jay nudged with his head towards the stairs, indicating that Taesan might hear them. Frustrated, Riki leaned back on the couch and let out a sigh.

“We were having so much fun ‘til now,” Sunoo pouted and expressed the thought everyone was having.

„That brat literally killed the vibe,“ Jake snickered at Rikis comment. Jay reached out his hand and flicked Rikis forehead, „ouch!“

„Don’t call my son a brat, he is cute.“

„Yes, hyung, he is cute, trust me I know that, I’m his fave uncle-“, “hey!” Riki ignored Sunoos shout, “but ever since you’ve become a dad you are no fun no more! We never really got the chance to talk and let loose like we used to,” he said in a hurt tone as he avoided eye contact.

Jay laughed in disbelief, feeling somewhat offended, “that’s not true we always hangout.”

Riki shot him a look, „ok now you’re just lying, hyung - when was the last time we went to our spot?” he challenged as he referred to the bar where they used to drink and let loose after work - twice a week used to be the minimum.

“I- well, maybe we don’t go there anymore but we still see each other every so often, right?” Jay looked at Jungwon in hopes of support.

Jungwon pursed his lips, “well… we haven’t seen eachother in a longgg time now...”

“What? I just saw you yesterday!” Jay exclaimed. Riki shot up from his leaning position: “eh?! You two met?”

“No! No, hyung, I just quickly came by because my girlfriend needed her hair machine thingy back- what’s it called?”

“Dyson?” Heeseung said. „Yeah yeah, that one, it’s really expensive,“ Jungwon sighed as he remembered buying it for his girlfriend.

Heeseung chuckled at that, „tell me about it. My girl‘s been wantin’ me to buy that for her.“

„Just buy it hyung, it’ll be worth it- she still thanks me for it every time she uses it.“

Jungwon looked at Jay again, „as I was saying: we didn’t meet up and hung out yesterday, I just had to run an errand, hyung!“

„But I mean, Riki said that ever since I became a dad I’m not that fun anymore? That’s just exaggerating.“

Riki started groaning at that, „I’m not the only one who’s been saying! Everyone feels the same! I get it, you have your responsibilities bla bla - whatever you call it - but come on!“

„it’s not responsibility ‘bla bla’ Riki! I’m a father and husband! I can’t just go out whenever? My family needs me.“ Jay scoffed in disbelief feeling irritation crawl up his blood pressure.

„I think what Riki is trying to say,“ Heeseung meddled calmly in, „what everyone’s been feeling lately, that the band hasn’t been together in a long long time- I think all seven of us met at New Year’s Eve.“

“And we’re not the only ones who have been missin the old times, manager said it also yesterday…” Jake said.

“But guys! We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?”

“Yes! And it was nice playing with Taesan but that’s not the same! We were laughing and retelling stories but then he interrupted us. Which is not the same as when we chill at our spot”

Jay huffed in response, turning his head to Sunghoon who’s been quiet the whole time during this argument, “Hoon?”

“I think, yeah, I think they’re right, Jongseong. You should also go out from time to time and balance the stress out which stems from fatherhood and husband responsibilities,” he nodded as he thought about his own experience so far as a newlywed.

“I’m not stressed!” Jay furrowed his eyebrows.

“Yeah, we can totally tell.” Riki rolled his eyes sarcastically.

“You know, with your second baby on the way, you should take this opportunity and go out with us for once. Just like the old times! No responsibilities, we will have fun like we used to!“

Jay was hardly convinced at Jakes suggestion. He couldn’t leave you just like that, you’re eight months pregnant! And Taesan-

Jungwon interrupted his train of thoughts, „you’re not even trying, hyung. I don’t think y/n would mind. She also knows how much you do for her, maybe she would be happy for you to do something fun.“

„Jay-ah, you should just ask her. You’ve gotten too uptight lately, always stressed, always thinkin’ too much. She’ll probably be happy for you to want to go out.“ Heeseung said in a matter-of-fact tone.

„We all know her, Jongseong. She would want you to go out for once,“ Sunghoon adds. “What’s the saying? ‘Happy wife, happy life’? That also applies to the husband. If you’re always so tense, eventually, your family will also be affected by that.”

Jay was surprised at how mature Sunghoon sounded, not like the Hoon he used to know.

“Wow Hoon, didn’t know you’ve become a big boy.” Jake slapped him rather aggressively on his back, to which Sunghoon just shrugged, “what can I say? I’m the best husband that’s ever walked on this planet.“ Typical Hoon was back.

Jay let out another sigh. They’re not wrong, I haven’t hung out with any friends in a long time.

Just as he was starting to feel convinced he heard his son rush down the stairs and, ultimately, tripping down the last two steps.

Jay sprang up from his seat and comforted his crying son. He had to bite his tongue as he tried not to laugh at his son lying on the ground like a starfish.

„Appa!!“

“Appa told you before not to rush down the stairs, didn’t I?”

Jay picked him up and rubbed his back while cooing: “aw my baby is hurt? Hm? Show me where it hurts“

Taesan pointed at his right knee and hand, still sobbing and whaling. „Shh, it’s ok, appa is here, I will take away the pain, hm?“

He softly blew on his tiny hand and his pajama clothed knee and rubbed it soothingly. „Better?“ Taesan indeed calmed down and nodded. He leaned onto his fathers chest and sniffled quietly, playing with the fabric of Jays shirt.

“Taesannie, you hurt yourself?” Jake asked in a tone he used with his dog.

“He’s not a dog, idiot.” Sunghoon hit him on his head.

“Woof woof,” Taesan replied, putting out his tongue and imitating a dog.

The group started to laugh to which Taesan shyly smiled and hid his face in Jays neck, his injury long forgotten.

Jay wiped away the remaining tears and took out a tissue from a box placed on the dining table.

„I’m sorry, guys. I really want to but you’ve just seen what happened. Y/n is eight months pregnant, I can’t leave her alone with him.“ He said in a soft sigh as he wiped away Taesans snot.

„Aghhh! You little rascal!“ Riki exclaimed as he took away Taesan from Jays hold, spinning and flying the little one around. As giggles and laughters escaped from his son, Jay felt his heart squeeze.

Seeing Riki play with Taesan awakened nostalgia and affection towards his youngest member. Sure, Riki was now a grown man, but that didn’t change the fact that Jay raised him since he was 13 year old. In some sort of way, Riki was his first son.

And he did missed him a lot and the other members just as much. Sometimes, he caught himself reminiscing about their group activities, their dorms and their ups and downs. He could proudly say that they were his second family after he left his home as a teenager.

But now he found a new family - his love, his precious wife, y/n. He had now other, new priorities. That’s what marriage was about after all. Commitment.

Jungwon spoke up: „Hyung, it’s written all over your face - you wanna go out with us“

„How about you put Taesan to sleep, check up on your wife and then we’ll be gone for only a couple of hours. You’ll be back before midnight, It’s not even 8 yet.“ Heeseung suggested.

„That’s actually not a bad idea to have Taesan asleep.“ Jay admitted. Taesan being asleep while he was gone minimised any chaos.

- “I don’t wanna sweep!!” Taesan angrily interfered. Riki quickly patted his head: “ok, ok. Nobody is going to sleep, alright?” He continued to lift him up in the air as way of distraction from their plans. -

But then Jay thought of you. What if you needed him? You couldn’t even get out of the bed without any support. Well, you always told him you could but he saw the way you struggled.

„But then again guys, y/n is pregnant as f.. as heck. I can’t leave her ‚to have fun‘,“ he gestured the quotes with his hands. „I put her in this situation after all,“ he smirked cheekily.

„Ew,“ Sunoo commented, „just ask her hyung! The worst she’ll do is say no!“

„No, the worst she’ll do is-“ he took a quick glance at the stairs leading to your bedroom in which you have been, presumably, still sleeping.

Jay lowered his voice: „In worst case scenario, she’ll get mad at me for asking and I’ll have to sleep on the couch tonight.“

„So you’re scared of your wife?“

„No!“

…

„no… yes.. maybe a little tiny bit, but you guys don’t get to say anything before you’re in a committed relationship,” he glanced at Jake and Riki with narrowed eyes who snickered around and made fun of him. Taesan joined the giggles albeit not understanding why they were laughing.

„Jongseong!“ Jay twitched when he suddenly heard you calling him from the bedroom.

“Just ask her, dude!” Jake whispered loudly. Jay took a glass of water and made his way upstairs whilst rolling his eyes, hoping Taesan didn’t see his father just do that.

—

“Hi baby, how was your nap?” Jay pressed a kiss on your hair and helped you up to lean comfortably against the headboard.

“Good,” you mumbled sleepily when he sat beside you and handed you the glass of water. When he saw your hand tremble whilst holding the glass, struggling to balance it properly, he sighed softly and took it in his own hand to bring it to your lips.

What were I thinking? I can’t leave her alone in this state to have fun on my own.

————

“Yes, just like I assumed: your blood pressure is way too low, Mrs. Park,” the doctor looked at the machine and scribbled down some notes.

You just entered your 29th pregnancy week when you fainted. Jay just came home when it happened, still clothed in his jacket and cap. Luckily, he caught you in his arms and you didn’t land on the hard ground.

The faint didn’t come as much as a surprise to you than it did to Jay. Which is why he did his best to stay calm when you told the doctor you’ve been feeling a lot weaker and dizzier lately, especially in comparison to your first pregnancy.

Jay rubbed his face. Why didn’t you say anything to him? So he wouldn’t worry?

He chose to stay silent, not wanting to stress you out any more than you already were, so he just silently took your hand and caressed it with his thumb.

“We’ll run some tests. But I can assure you, Mr. and Mrs. Park, there’s nothing to worry about,” the doctor explained, “the best way to get your BP on the normal range, in your pregnant condition right now, is to bedrest, hydration - you have to drink a lot of water - and a certain diet. I’ll print out a spreadsheet for you. If it helps you with the dizziness within a week then we’ll have to stick to that.”

——

Jay was grateful that the diet and bedrest did indeed help you a lot. The only times you felt dizzy and weak were after you’ve just woken up, like now, but everything else was going perfect.

Well to you at least.

Jay didn’t allow you to stand for more than 10 minutes and he always made sure you were hydrated.

Which was cute! Really!

Ok, it was a little exhausting sometimes to not freely do whatever you wanted. But you knew it was for the best. And that he was only doing what was the best for you and the baby.

You just wished he wouldn’t be too concerned sometimes. You can get up on your own - albeit you had to admit it was a little difficult - but he treats you like a patient with a terminal illness!

Still, you didn’t want to complain.

There were women out there pregnant, and the men who got them pregnant were nowhere to be found. What a shame… you couldn’t help but get emotional at the thought.

You blinked away your tears, quickly brushing your sensibility off as you didn’t want to worry or even irritate him. You could already sense that something was wrong the moment he sighed.

Of course, it didn’t go unnoticed by your husband, “what’s wrong, baby?” he asked. He put the glass on the side table and started caressing your baby bump - a habit he developed during your first pregnancy, claiming this helped the bond between father and child. But you knew he also took it as an excuse to touch you.

The comfort you felt radiating off of Jay, gave you the courage to share your thoughts with him. Which is why your lips formed a pout and your eyes began to tear up on their own: “I’m just so happy and grateful that you’re the father of my children. I wouldn’t know what I’d do if I were ever left alone pregnant and with a child.”

Jay felt his heart rip apart in two pieces. “Aw baby, don’t imagine stuff like that.” He put his other hand on your cheek and caressed it with his thumb, “I’ll always be there for you and our children.”

“Don’t cry, honey. Think of happy things, hm?” He put a chaste kiss on your lips. You nodded and smiled a little as you put your hands on both of his.

Jay was truly disappointed in himself.

How could I think of going out and having fun when my wife is all hormonal and crying at the thought of me leaving her? And not even a few weeks ago she fainted in my arms?

I have to take care of her and stay by her side until the baby is here and until she’s fully recovered, no matter what. He made a promise to himself.

“What are you thinking, Jjongie?”

His hand let go of your cheek, only to hold your hand in it, and while kissing the back of it, he murmured: “nothing, baby.”

You raised an eyebrow and squinted your eyes at that. “Just that I love you very much.”

You were still suspicious at his answer but chose to ignore it by changing the topic.

“Why are you still here? I thought they wanted to take you out tonight?” Jay raised his eyebrows at your question.

“Jungwon told me when he came yesterday,” you chuckled as you brushed away a loose strand falling right above his eye.

„I’m not going with them. I have you here, how could I go just like that? I’ll tell them to leave now so that we can cuddle,” he sent you a cute smile.

As tempting as it sounded, you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows in confusion, “why? You always talk about them, Jjongie. You should go!”

This time Jay furrowed his eyebrows in surprise. “No, y/n, I’ve already decided that I’m not going,” he said firmly and with finality in his voice, “wait- I’m confused, I thought you’d be against it.”

“Why would I be against it?”

“You just said it yourself: you don’t want to be alone all pregnant and with a toddler?” he said more like a question than a statement, now unsure himself.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I meant like being alone forever and raising children on my own, not for a few hours,” you laughed at his silliness. “And speaking of toddler: why is he not sleeping yet, Jongseong? His crying woke me up. He’s probably all fussy and tired from the excitement of todays guests.“

Jay pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows in a cute manner, “he wanted to stay awake and play with his uncles… he missed them. So I let him, ok?”

You cooed at that, “aw, you probably didn’t want to tell him no because you also missed them,”

“hm.”

“Don’t be grumpy now.”

“’m not grumpy,” he sulked with a pout.

“You missed them a lot, didn’t you?”

Jay could only respond with a nod, not finding the words to speak.

“So you should go with them tonight!” You exclaimed excitedly as you pinched his cheek, “you’ll regret it otherwise.”

“I don’t know, baby. I- I’m scared. What if something happens to you while I’m gone? What if something is with Taesan and you can’t help him? He literally hurt himself just now!

When you fainted that day, you have no idea, I was so scared. I just happened to be there on time to catch you, otherwise you would’ve landed on the floor and could’ve hurt your head or the baby.”

“And,” Jay let out an amused scoff, “I really thought you’d also be against the idea of me going out and leaving you alone.”

“Whyyy?? Am I not a sweet wife who wants the best for her husband?” you said in a cutesy tone which melted his heart every time.

“I do understand your concerns but babe- listen,” you grabbed his face in your hands and looked directly in his eyes,

“after we visited the doctor, I already told you, I feel a lot better! Yes, sometimes, I don’t feel well but I stay in bed all the time! So nothing can happen, ok?” You squeezed his cheeks.

“So, let’s do this: I’ll go to the bathroom on my own and also walk the stairs on my own, this way you can see that I’ll be fine! You’ll put Taesan to sleep. And while you’re gone I’ll be in the living room, eating dinner and watching some drama. I won’t stand up until you’re back, ok?”

“Pinky promise?” Jay held his pinky after thinking for awhile. You smiled and let go of his face to lock your pinky with his: “Pinky promise. But only if you don’t try to check up on me while you’re away. No calls, whatsoever.” You squinted your eyes at him.

He squinted his eyes playfully back, making you laugh as you still held on to each other’s pinky.

“Ok. Deal.” He said after a short while.

You sealed it with a kiss.

“I love you.“

„I love you too, my overly concerned hubby.“

—

When you walked down the stairs, Jay did in fact not help you but was standing at the bottom watching every move, ready for - well, you didn’t know either but if it made him happy, so be it!

When you spotted Riki sitting on your couch, you saw that your son was sleeping in his arms. His tiny head laid on Rikis broad shoulder, wrapped in a blanket and tightly snuggled against his - you guessed it - ‘faworite uncwle’.

„Aw, did he get on your nerves Riki?“ You cooed as you caressed your sons hair lightly.

„Nah, this little man is alright. I could actually get used to him.“ He answered teasingly in a low tone as he laid his cheek against Taesans head, closing his own eyes to enjoy the moment.

——

Later that evening, when Jay came back, he settled beside you on the couch. Draping an arm around your shoulder, you cuddled onto his side.

„Was everything alright, babe?“ He caressed your baby bump softly.

„Hm, of course, Jjongie. How was your boys night?“

„It was fun,“ he smiled and for the first time after a while you saw that childish glimmer shining in his eyes.

„You look like you had a lot of fun.“

„Yes, I think I really would’ve regretted it.“

„See? Told you so,“ you smiled in victory.

„Hmm...” he nuzzled his nose against your cheek and closed his eyes, “you always know better.”

“Hey! Are you mocking me?”

“Nooo.”

“Jongseong!!” You frowned.

Jay let out a quiet, hearty chuckle, before he started pecking your cheek with a smile on his face. The hand that laid on your bump went to the other side of your face, holding it as close as possible - his eyes were still closed the whole time.

When he heard you giggle he trailed his kisses along your jaw and travelled further down to your neck. He placed a last kiss on your exposed shoulder before he nestled his face in the crook of your neck in satisfaction.

“I’m truly the luckiest man on earth that I married such an understanding partner,” he mumbled against your neck and brought his arm back to wrap it around your round stomach.

“I’m the lucky one,” you whispered back, trying to suppress the lump forming in your throat.

You placed a kiss on his forehead as you leaned further into him and rested your head against his. Your hands clasped his arm in-front of you as you closed your own eyes.

…

„I know you cleaned up the living room and the kitchen.“

„Only after you ‘accidentally’ called me.“

You both chuckled quietly.

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© youngheejay 2025 | do not repost or plagiarize.

[jello-chennie]

✧ Izuku, as quiet, bashful, and nerdy as he is, is a total closet perv.

✧ genre/tw smut ⚠︎

✧ w/c 569

When the almost unbelievably pretty foreign transfer student makes an entrance on her first day in 1A, Izuku’s stomach was set afire by the downy wings of butterflies running amok inside him.  But when you turn around to write your name on the board at Aizawa’s behest, Izuku can’t help himself when his eyes start to wonder across the shape of you—when you turn back around, Midoriya is almost hypnotised by your pretty eyes and charmingly kind smile, and those butterflies quickly turn into extra blood that sit heavy in his balls. 

Midoriya isn’t able to get up to join his friends at the lunch table that day.

He thought he already had it bad before, but discovered new parts of himself after your arrival.  

Izuku who desperately tries to eavesdrop on conversations you have with the many people who hurry to try to introduce themselves to you, totally not in an effort to overhear you giving out your instagram handle.  And Izuku definitely didn’t blow through an entire box of tissues in the one night alone.  And of course he wasn’t dying of shame while having a conversation with his mother on the phone about the sudden wave of bulk pack tissue box purchases on their Amazon account.  It’s totally just a cold he caught.

He almost feels a little pathetic at the fact that there are only sweet and appropriate photos on your social media pages, but that’s more than enough for him—for a short while.  The more time he spent around you in class, the more he craved you.  He eventually found himself on some very specific porn sites in an effort to find an actress that even remotely resembled you.  That seemed to make the issue worse, as he then started to have some very vivid dreams of you with little left to the imagination, thanks to his helpful visual aids.

He tells his friends that he’s just been adding in extra workouts in the morning when they ask why he does his laundry so frequently these days.

And when the two of you become partners for a training course one day, Midoriya is enthralled by your personality and your quirk.  He immediately starts analysing it all, but quickly needs to run to the onsite restroom when he starts trying to estimate the size of your tits. In the small port-a-potty, he imagines himself taking the measurements with his palms.  Once he finishes and takes a moment to breathe, he cringes as he thinks in retrospect of himself from a few moments earlier:  Izuku had one hand held in the air, palming around nothing, as he fucked into the other one. This time he really thinks himself pathetic.

When you become closer as friends, beginning to spend time casually together in each other’s bedrooms, he smiles innocently in your face, while a stolen pair of panties sit snug in his pocket.  He also pretends to be deeply invested in his economics textbook when he overhears you complaining about constantly needing to go underwear shopping a few months later.

Eventually, you fall for his boyish charms, and the two of you begin to spend time together as a couple.  And in the most unsmooth way possible, he acts shocked and pretends to know nothing when you find a familiar long lost pair of pink panties hidden amongst his things.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Met The Devil

lucifer x human!reader

based on folklore about the devil, cause i thought that would be cool teehee

Part [2]

Warnings: SMUT 18+, implied fem reader (clit use), based on devil folklore so possibly ooc lucifer, so sorry but lucifer our boy ain’t that caught up on lilith here, penetrative sex, didn’t proof read so lmk if you see any mistakes, no mention of hairtype/bodytype/skin colour, swearing,

Word count: 4K

Your shoes clacked against the concrete, water from puddles splashing out from underneath your feet. The rain poured down vigorously, and unforgivingly. Your hair ruined, your clothes soaked and your mood sour. It’s been a trying day starting off with a failed job interview and ending with bending over backwards for people who didn’t deserve it.

It wasn’t even like you couldn’t handle a problem, or a hurdle, but it seemed like every path you took led to a dead end. You were tired, broke, and felt drained, you would kill for just a break from the failure.

Your pace slowed long ago, not really wanting to return into a room full of loud family members with critical opinions. You dragged your feet through puddles of water, feeling the cold rain soak through. The storm raged on clouds continuing to pelt down fat droplets, you inhaled the smell of wet grass, damp concrete and mud as you strolled.

The amber street lights above you were dim, and your eyes danced around the street lazily, observing everything and nothing. Just a few feet away from you was a bus stop, with a shelter and a bench, figuring it’d be better to not be drenched completely, you decided you’d have a seat maybe the rain will dissipate.

You dragged your feet focusing down at them as you walked into the shelter. As you turned into it, you bumped into someone jolting you backwards slightly. Reflexively your head shot up from your feet to see a man’s back, he quickly turned to you. You observed his clothing his head held a rather out there looking white hat, shoulders holding up a long white chesterfield coat along with white boots to match his monochromatic look.

Meeting his eyes you admired the unique colour; they looked light brown, but they were such a concentrated colour it could’ve been mistaken for an amber or perhaps orange. He was very pale, and poking out of his hat extremely blonde hair you briefly had the thought of perhaps he just lacked in melanin; he was albino, and so you moved past it. Standing fairly short even with his boots, he seemed like a wealthy man, and perhaps a model too, there’s no way he couldn’t be with such a catching appearance. The man gave you a wide grin, showing off his sparkling teeth, perfect as you expected. “Hi!” The strange man shouted, a rich booming voice coming out of him. You didn’t know what voice you expected to hear from him, but the slightly unsure, sultry one definitely wasn’t it.

Stepping back from him lending him some personal space back, you smiled nervously. “Hi, i’m sorry i thought- well i didn’t see anyone in here, sorry.” The man ‘pfft’ at you, eyes closed momentarily, head tilted back. “It’s not a problem at all! Eh, i was just stopping by!” Waving at you he stepped futher in the bus shelter, opening his arm to welcome you in excitedly.

You watched him intently as you walked inside, you felt curious about him as he had an aura you couldn’t quite place. When inside you stood parallel to him, watching as his posture slowly decompressed like he was glad you were here. You briefly wondered what he meant by stopping by it didn’t seem like the appropriate term to use in this scenario, but you argued with yourself that he could’ve been flustered.

Gazing down at his arm a cane had appeared- one that wasn’t there before, you had to do double take, assuring yourself that you were seeing things correctly. As you did so, he leaned ever so slightly on it putting more trust in the cane then he probably should have. “An apple?” You questioned observing the handle that he grasped with gloved hands. His eyebrow rose with a confused expression gracing his gorgeously sculpted face waiting for you to elaborate. “Your cane, sir.” You smiled nodding toward it, feeling a strange sense of adoration him and for the far away look in his eyes, one you recognized. “Cane? Oh, OH! My cane, ha! Yes uh, apples. They’re, uh gods gift after all.”

Realization flooded his face, smirk reappearing as he leaned forward just a bit, as he did so you felt a sudden sense of familiarity that was almost sickening. You’ve never felt such a pull before to a person like you did in this moment. “Would you like an apple? It’s cold out, you must be tired after such a long tedious day.” Watching him as he dug into his pocket pulling out a decently sized apple- perfectly red as well.

Tilting your head to the side questioningly you ask; “How did you know my day was tedious?” The question came out gently, quiet, void of any accusation or fear. Instead you felt calm gazing from his captivating eyes to the apple, hand stallled just a bit away from yourself reaching toward. “It’s so evident on your face, you poor thing. Here go ahead sweetheart.” His voice that was once insecure, unsure and bouncing in pitch, was now relaxed, smooth and hypnotizing.

There was no malice or condescension in what he said, but rather an observation of what you failed to hide in your current state. Nodding with a short shrug, you reach further, the man meeting you half way to place the fruit in your palm. Your hand briefly touched his own gloved one, they were warm as ever, and you’d wish you could’ve gotten more of a feel.

Smiling at him you suddenly noticed his lids were covered in a lavender purple, perhaps you noticed because they were lidded at you now, unlike before when they were wide. His smile was lazy as he watched you bite into his fruit. It was probably one of the more fresher apples you’d ever bitten into, and as you swallowed the first bite your stomach growled, literally demanding more.

The strange man in white chuckled at the sound of your stomach, and before you could let embarrassment consume you he spoke. “See! So glad I found you, wouldn’t want you starving now would we?” It seemed he had gone back to his boisterous mood as he watched you crunch happily down.

“Thank you so much sir, this is such a good apple, really, did you grow this in your garden?” You asked him, he came closer standing beside you, the two of you now facing the road, looking out at the rain. “Mm, not my garden…” The man muttered under his breath, you quirked a brow humming at him barely hearing what he said. His eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “Heh! Oh nothing sweets! Don’t worry, i was just, uh, remembering some stuff. From. Like, the past.”

It was as if he’d lost his cool for a moment, stumbling over everything that came out of his mouth, his gaze fixed ahead at nothing. You admired the side of his face as you chewed the last bit of apple, his head slowly turned to you, eyes catching your own.

“You’re eyes are ethereal.” You breathe eyes squinted in focus as you drank him up. You didn’t fully mean to say what you said, it was something just burst out of you without restraint because you felt so strongly about the beauty they held.

Stuttering, he blushed finding it hard to gather the words under the heated look you were giving him. “Thank you, YN.” The man finally said easy going smile once again present on his face. Before you could say anything in return- including questioning how the hell he knew your name, he again reached in his pocket this time pulling out a single playing card the king of hearts. Furrowing your brows you accepted the card but didn’t understand why he gave it to you.

“Love a good game of cards, always have! I think we’ll see each other some day soon!” The man exclaimed smiling brightly at you, behind you, you could make out the sound of a bus coming up to your stop. You smiled and thankedthe man regardless of the oddities, he returned the gesture smiling toothily at you. He rested himself against his cane again watching you intently as you glanced behind you. The bus lights lit up your figure, and you supposed you’d get on for the rest of the ride home. Turning with a smile to say your farewells to the mystery man, your stomach dropped. The man had vanished, and you’d only looked away a second. Stepping out into the rain, you peered up and down the long streets, unable to see his white coat or hat in either direction.

Standing next to the curb the bus whined to a stop, the compressed air blowing out warmly at your legs. When the bus driver opened his doors, you stepped on tapping your finger against the safety glass. The conductor looked at you exhausted by the night and the people he handled.

“Sorry if this is strange, but did you see anyone in the bus shelter with me?” The diver looked at you and it was obvious to him he couldn’t care less, but you stayed put waiting the vocal confirmation. “No ma’am, but if i’m being honest i wasn’t paying attention.”

You nodded quickly eyes casted down, thanking him you put your toll in and walked your way down the isle. When in your seat, you pulled out the card once more to inspect it in the light. Your eyebrows lifted looking down at the card, written on the back where there was nothing before, now had beautiful calligraphic writing with an address on it.

Typing the address into your phone, it directed you to what looked to be a website where people posted looking for house sitters. Turning your mouth in a disgusted manor, you silently questioned why the hell this man would give you such a thing. Scrolling through the different enlistings, you boredly read through descriptions and pay killing time until your stop.

Just a few stops away from home, your thumb stopped on a house, it was a pretty decent home appeared to be some sort of log cabin. The pay they were willing to give was generous, and it was only for three days, oddly enough. Clicking on it, you read through the description, they asked not to bring pets, eat their food, or sleep in their bedrooms asking to bring something to sleep on.

It was a two hour commute by drive, but seeing as you didn’t drive, it was a four hour commute with the train. You sent the owner a quick message telling them that you needed the pay and you were willing to comply to all the rules no issues. After sending your message, you stood mirroring the robotic voice as it called the name of your stop.

—

“Hi welcome!” Marie greeted you with a handshake, smiling at her you shook back. Walking into the cabin alongside Marie she explained that she needed to pick her husband up from a business trip from the middle east, and her house was too high maintenance for her to leave behind. “Occasionally, the pipes will freeze if the temperature drops, you the heat will need to controlled carefully. There’s a garden outback i am very proud of, i’d really appreciate you checking on it daily, just to make sure no pesky animals intrude.”

Walking through the house, you notice different things hanging, but no family pictures. The house was filled with mahogany and oak woods, which were really gorgeous, the house was dark and lit by yellow lighting from different chandeliers and vintage looking collectors lamps.

“Oh! Also if you need we have a prayer room! Don’t touch anything in there as they’re very expensive. Besides that, you’re good. Alright i gotta run, this willl be a very tedious trip. Call me if you have any problems.” Nodded as she spoke, you walked along side her towards the front door. You smiled at her assuring that all would be well, and if there was any problems you wouldn’t hesitate to call.

—

Another rain storm moved into the area thunder shaking the cabin. You had a cot set up in the living room per Marie’s request, and your food was put away in the fridge. You had gotten into shorts and a t-shirt now that you didn’t have to worry about being presentable and settled in the cot with your phone and laptop.

You’d been in the house for ten hours now, and you weren’t able to relax, paranoia filled your mind as you felt off about being in a strangers home. The urge and need for money fueled you in the beginning, but now alone in the middle of the woods, in a cabin that isn’t your own with a thunderstorm overhead, yeah you were filled with anxiety.

Just as you felt a bit of tension release from your shoulders, three knocks sounded from the door making you jumped from the disruption of silence. Standing cautiously you walked to the fire place grabbing one of the pokes that sat off to the side, and went to the door. Peeping through the hole you were surprised to be greated by the man from the bus stop. He held the rim of his hat down over his his face that held a scowl of discomfort, slumped over and soaked.

Opening the door you stood the fire poke off to the side against the wall. Despite your apprehension and confusion, something in you felt compelled to open the doo. “What the hell?” You exclaim, watching him perk up at the sound of your voice, eyes naturally finding your own. “Oh you! Y’know i had a feeling you’d be here, uhh, mind helping me out. It’s freezing!”

Grabbing his bicep you tugged him in, him letting out waohs as he stumbled in letting you do as you pleased. Slamming the door behind you, you grabbed his shoulders gently looking into his eyes. “What the fuck are you doing all the way out here? God, you’re soaked.” You saying eyeing him, he was wearing the white outfit he had on nearly two months ago.

Walking to your suitcase you pulled out a towel, t-shirt and joggers for the man. Turning you walked back to the entry to see him already half naked, gasping you spun on your heel. “What the hell dude! Put this on!” You screamed tossing all the items behind your back.

The man laughed, it sounded charming and he seemed delighted at your shock. “Don’t worrrryyy, its no biggie. Look as long as you please.” Scoffing you turned seeing him with the joggers on, hat tossed to the side drying his hair. “You look very good tonight,“ The man trailed eyeing you up and down.

You felt hot at such a statement making you feel like a horn dog. You crossed your arms and gave him a grin. “Can I help you by the way, maybe call you a car? I’m uh, house sitting.” You explain walking up to him, he shook his head smiling coyly at you. “No no, thats, fine.” You went to question further but he had other ideas and brushed past you wandering into the house.

“I don’t even know your name!” You say speedily following him as he observed everything in the cabin he passed. He glanced back at you briefly before muttering; “Lucifer,” Quickly before you could get a word in edge wise he turned aburptly stopping, you bumping into him lightly. “And I only ask that you spare me a few hours, maybe a meal?”

-

So there you two sat, you had ate with the man, and now sat listening to the stories of a man who swore up and down his name was Lucifer. He explained his predicament while you ate, saying that he just took a wrong turn and drove into a ditch.

You laughed along he told you interesting and funny stories of his life and the people around him, telling you about his crafting hobby. Which captivated you the most, honestly you were mesmerized by the man, and he seemed to feel the same about you.

His eyes lidded and relaxed, his chin rested on his hand, leaning forward completely encapsulated by your presence. You never had a man so focused on you, he hung on every word, and you felt that framillar tinge once again, pulling you into him.

The magnet kept pulling you in, and you were ever so hungry for the man in front of you. “Yeah, my daughter uh, she’s like me with the ambition. I’m just afraid she’s gonna end up like me.” Lucifer said shrugging while looking off to the side. You wont deny you felt the slightest bit upset at the statement, daughter implies mother. “Even if she does fail the only thing can do is be there for her through the trip. It’s harder to fail alone, i think.”

Nodding in contemplation the blondes eyes came back to you, his hands came the the middle of the table causing your gaze to drop. His hands twisted, flicked and your focus was now on a gold circle spinning on the table. His wedding band.

“She’s been alone a long time, my wife, she left seven years ago, we’d been divorced since Charlie was a toddler, heh, kept hoping she’d return. I left Charlie alone too, kinda thought it was for the best. Not anymore. We work together.” He explained smiling at the mention of his daughter. Slapping his hand atop the ring ceasing its momentum he looked at you watching as you placed your hand ontop of his, gently caressing him as you did so.

The two of you stared at each other silently, for how long you weren’t sure. It wasn’t until he pulled himself to his feet sluggishly that the staring spell broke. The confidence returned to him, as did his mischievous smirk. You were under the assumption be was ready to go so you stood with him.

Just as you were about to speak, thanking him for the unique experience he granted you, he grabbed you by the arms and tugged you into him. You fell forward hands flying to his chest, meanwhile his head tilted and softly his lips met yours. You didn’t have time to question a thing before your lips danced in tandem with his. Perhaps you should’ve been less willing than you were but how could you not be? It was like a gift from god, this man.

You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him to your chest, his hand moved from your arm to your hips grinding himself into you needily. You whimpered at the contact feeling how excited he already was, when you whimpered he took the chance to sneak his tongue into your mouth. As your own tongue slid past his you stuttered feeling how long he could reach, and moaned at the way he tried to swallow you whole so nastily.

Pulling back slightly, Lucifer paused as you felt the fork of his tongue. Shocked you pulled back fully looking at his lustful expression, it was almost as if his eyes were a darker shade.

“What’s wrong?” He asked hands slowly travelling from your hips up to the hem of your shirt, toying with it. “Your tongue?” At your inquisitive tone, he stuck his tongue out. “Thish?” He spoke through is tongue that stuck out to your, normal sized and unforked.

Smirking at him you shook your head gently you must’ve been nervous. Pulling him toward your make shift bed you two crashed down on it haphazardly, he leaned back on his elbows watching as you crawled on top of him meeting his lips eagerly. His hair was slightly disheveled, his breathing jagged under you.

You slid yourself up and down, gliding yourself purposely right on his hard on. Pulling away from the sloppy make out session you two were in, Lucifer looked at you with glassy eyes. “Let’s make deal,” He breathed panting to catch some of the breath you stole straight from him.

“What?” You whispered inches from his lips. “Let me have you, all of you and when the time comes you’ll be a queen, you’re just a diamond in the rough.” There was almost a saddness you could detect, maybe something you could describe as mournfully lonesome. You felt the tug; the pull to him you couldn’t deny, so you took his hand away from your hip, and shook it. “Deal.” You say mocking something that would be business offical.

With a sly grin, he pushed himself up to you, your lips crashing into his instantaneously. You bit his lip gently as he grinded himself into you enjoying how unashamed he was of showing his desire. You met his grinding with your own, dragging your hands down his warm chest. Lucifers breath stuttered at your touch, his nails sinking into your flesh with anticipation.

You stopped at the band of the joggers pulling away from the kiss. As you did Lucifers eyes were wide, pupils blown and he robotically lifted himself by his hips, awkwardly shuffling his joggers down. You lifted yourself so he could get them the rest of the way down before tossing your shirt to the side.

Grinding down on his uncovered cock you moaned head thrown back, he was all consuming and the air felt so hot after the deal. It was desperation that was evident on both your faces, Lucifer hypnotized by you as you greedily grinded against him. Lucifer whimpered laying back down flat on the cot trying to stop himself from violently bucking up.

“Tell me what you want Lucifer,” You purred lifting your hips from his boner rotating your hips round and round while just barely touching his dick beneath you. “Fuck please, get on me.” Lucifer gritted out teeth clenched, eyes closed sparkling at how tight he had them sealed.

Manurvering yourself you pulled down your shorts and urged him to sit up. Lazily he followed your pull sitting up straight toward you. You liked this position way more, face to face as your sunk yourself down on his cock. His legs jerked, spreading out falling off each side of the caught causing you to bottom out, slipping right down to his balls.

“Oh shit you’re an angel, fuck, you feel so good, oh,” Lucifer whimpered voice wavering, although he smiled through the pleasure. Unwillingly he fucked up into you, your body unmoving jerked up with his hips, you were too busy getting used to him girth and size not to mention his all consuming presence. He was so hot, smug, and it made you feel hornier than you already are.

Sliding your hips forward you whimper and moaned. Face in your neck he breathed you in, whimpering as he continued to fuck up into every now and again, still trying to hold back for you. You wrapped your legs around his back clenching on unable to speak as Lucifer had your brain wiped of all thought.

Lucifer bit down holding back a groan, effectively drawing blood from the wound, licking it right up after. Suddenly like a madman, he gripped you like a life line, gently but swiftly flipping you over onto your back. He looked down at you with red eyes stunning you into silence. “Lucifer?” You whispered breathlessly as he smiled down at your form, his tongue darting, out forked once again, and dragged his devilish tongue against his no longer normal teeth.

Without responding he sunk himself into you, your legs on their own accord flew up around Lucifer as he slowly plunged himself into you. You cried out in pleasure as he picked up the pace slamming his hips into you, skin slapping filled the room as well as Lucifers gravel groans and growls.

Your eyes were closed as you reached up to him, your body jerked at his thrusts the cot creaking. You pulled him toward you, he made no effort to pull away from your tugging. His lips met yours pulling you into a hot kiss, you met him with need, teeth clashing and tongues twisting. You being to fucked out in bliss to realize the razor sharp teeth that nicked your lips and tongue, or the snake like tongue that explored your mouth.

You moaned at the sensations you felt all around you, your heightened senses picking up the cold snake like skin that whipped by your calf. Opening your eyes you clenched coming face to face with Lucifer, the devil, the literal devil.

Long red horns stuck out from his pale skin, red eyes lidded and glowing down at you, sharp teeth evident by his smirked. His pace never slowed as he watched you stare at him, and his pride swelled at the fleeing of you clenching him tightly, legs simultaneously pulling him in closer.

“Like what you see angel?” You mewled at his words grabbing his shoulders as he looked down at you eyes full of desire and pride. “Yes,” You gasped as he hit a pretty little spot inside you that made you sing to him.

“Please Lucifer!” A rumble sounded in his chest a noise you couldn’t describe. Attempting to stabilize your jerking body, your hands moved to grip his back but paused at the feeling of feathers. Lazily your mouth fell open, body jerking as your head tilted to the side getting a better look at the red and white wings that cascaded far across the room.

“O-oh, my god, fuuuck.” You moaned trying to make sense of the display in front of you but Lucifer pressed his finger down on your clit making you loose control of your mind once more, bucking up to him, begging him.

You pleaded to Lucifer like a chant to him, looking into his red glowing eyes. His smile was gone his eyes lidded eyebrows pinched as he fought off the urge to cum just a little longer.

With a shout your body shook tensing, toes curling, Lucifer muttered your name over and over worshipping your name as you did to him. His hips halted deep within you and he bit down on your neck leaving several different bite marks.

Pulling away he stared down at your sweaty body his demonic form shrinking away, his eyes going yellow with his natural red irises. You stared shocked at him, but he only coyly smiled at you. “How was your date with the devil?” He smiled brushing his hand down your cheek.

“You’re really the devil?” You asked in disbelief and astonishment. “Well y’know,” He coughed looking away, pulling away from you effectively pulling out of you. “Yeah that’s what they call me.” Another charming smile graced his face.

Your lurched upward eyes wide. “I made a deal with the devil?!” You exclaimed not feeling the way you expected if you were to meet the devil. Y’know fear.

“Yep, and, you promised yourself to me,” Popping his ‘p’ as well as accentuating the ‘and’, he tossed the ring at you. Swiftly you caught it, and by the time you looked down at it, and then back up to him, he was redressed in his suit, coat and hat.

“Speaking of which, I’ve got a kingdom to run.” Thunder rumbled shaking the cabin making the lights flicker out ominously, and in that brief moment, the devil himself, disappeared. Leaving you alone, with his ring, naked in the cabin.

[oddproperty]

change of heart

masterlist here

✧ hi!! just a bit of writing for fun, enjoy :)

✧ word count: 2.3k

✧ pairing: lando norris x reader x (somewhat charles leclerc)

✧ 'suddenly unapproving of your interest in charles, lando reminds you whose guest you are.'

***This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.***

passing through the lobby of lando's apartment, you caught your reflection in a mirror, stopping to smooth the red silk dress against your body. having bought it only a few hours ago, you were pleased with how well it fit. the material of the dress fell over you just right, bringing attention to your curves. usually you don't wear red, but tonight it seemed appropriate.

-

"lando…this is so last minute," you sighed into the phone.

"it seriously should not take you that long to get ready…plus, charles will be here," he teased. this taunting behavior between you two was normal, having been friends for years.

"wow lando! that'll definitely make sure i have a dress for tonight!" you feigned excitement. “is he going to buy it for me too?”

"i'm sure he will in return for something else," lando joked slyly.

you were lando’s closest friend. when he made it into formula 1, it was common for you to be at his races and afterparties. you were able to meet all the racers and have good friendships. however, it was clear that charles enjoyed your presence in the paddock seemingly more than lando. never failing to talk to you after every race, holding your attention at the afterparties, and similar things were normal practice. lando noticed you showed interest back, and he never seemed too fond of this connection. you assumed it was because, at times, you and lando had been flirty with each other…although it never went further than sly comments and a light touch here and there on nights where you both had been drinking too much.

"you're sick…i'll be there."

-

arriving at his door, you heard the music already sounding. you got there early and were surprised that it sounded like the party already began.

your knocking on the hard door received no answer. after trying twice, you began fiddling through your purse to find the spare key he had given you in case of emergencies. slotting it into the door handle, you looked into his living room where a dj booth stood, but no lando.

"lando?" you called out over the music. no answer.

having been in his apartment probably more than your own, you made your way to the hallway with his bedroom. you hoped your heels clicking on the hardwood flooring would be loud enough to alert him. trying to call out his name once more, you received nothing back.

entering his bedroom, you caught the reflection of him dressing in the overly large mirror that always faced his bed. you never thought too deep into it being there, and frankly, you didn't want to. you remembered all the times lando made sly remarks of showing you why he had it there.

he wore an all-black suit with the first two shirt buttons undone. the shiny necklace he had worn for the majority of his life shining brightly through the gap. a glass of whiskey rested on the table nearby. of course you thought him attractive at least once in the duration of your friendship. his curly hair, hazel eyes, and of course the physique that formula 1 training had brought him. this outfit pointed all of his features out to you more than normal.

"pregaming?" you ask, pointing to his drink as you enter the room. he jumped at the intrusion, but relaxed when he sees that its you. you see a look of disappointment quickly show on his face as he leans against the table, grabbing his glass to take a sip. you watch as he takes the strong liquor with no reaction, making a quick glance at the half-rolled sleeve that displays his tanned, strong forearm.

"you know that papaya would have been a much better option. think it suits you waaay more," lando drug on, obviously displeased at the red dress.

you roll your eyes playfully, ignoring his sly comment, "where can i get one of those?" pointing to his glass.

he makes his way toward you. you carefully watch his strides as they close in on the doorframe you're standing in. his broad shoulders dwarf your own.

pointing at your dress and touching it lightly, you already feel overwhelmed by his small touch. "maybe charles can fix you one when he gets here,” he taunts you.

anytime lando could use your crush to embarrass you, he was on it. this playful banter was usual between you and him, though he currently seemed a bit more adamant.

"actually…i think this one is perfect," you say, taking the drink out of his hand. finishing it, you turn on your heels, making your way back to the living area. you hear lando trail behind, grumbling.

-

as the night continued on, you realized this party was a lot bigger than you had expected. the entirety of lando's living room, kitchen, and balcony were overcome with people. you were able to hear conversations coming from every angle, along with the semi-loud music that blasted through the speakers. you sipped from a complex and tasty drink he had made you earlier (after he got over himself) that made you quite tipsy. admiring the environment around you, you frequently saw lando djing his heart out. given your state, you began to notice just how nicely his defined arms flexed from under his black shirt. how his curly hair lightly fell over his forehead as he focused on the turntable in front of him. and the way the necklace he wore sat perfectly over his (admittedly very kissable) toned neck and chest. thoughts flit across your mind about how you should've taken him up on his offer to learn why his mirror is facing his bed.

breaking your one-sided staring contest - and to remove these thoughts about your best friend -  you shook your head slightly. when you glanced back up, you caught his eye, and noticed the look of slight concern on his face. he raised his eyebrows in a questioning expression, to which you smiled back at him languidly.

suddenly realizing just how much you liked the drink he made - and your sudden interest in being near him -  you made your way to lando to ask for another. brushing against everyone as you made your way through the crowd, you almost missed the large hand feather over your lower arm. when looking down, you noticed the signature richard mille timepiece.

turning around, you exclaimed, "charles!" while pulling him into a hug. his hands rested gently on your waist as yours laid across his neck. the scent of sandalwood and bergamot enveloped you, making you pull him impossibly close. the alcohol in your system was not working in your favor around him, but you were glad to center these thoughts on him and temporarily forget the ones of lando.

after a moment, you began to pull away. admiring him in the dim lighting, you noticed the black and white suit he wore, along with the thin red tie that almost matched your dress. it was more formal than what most were wearing, but he looked amazing. you slowly ran your free hand down the arm of his suit jacket, taking in the soft material. his hands remained on your waist as he watched you closely. you felt shy under his gaze.

removing a hand, he brought it up to caress the side of your face. he pulled you in, angling your ear to his mouth in order for you to hear him. you felt his slight stubble gently graze your cheek.

"you are so pretty," he expressed meaningfully, "red is gorgeous on you."

"i’d say it looks good on you as well," you responded, moving your hands to gently pull on his silk tie.

"wish i could see you in red all the time," he suggested, using the hand that was on your lower back to delicately bring your core flush to him. even in your inebriated state, you immediately knew what he was hinting at.

pulling away from his face slightly, you felt the warmth of his breath graze your cheek and could smell spiced rum from his lips. you could've melted into the strong hand on your lower back. you're not sure if it was the alcohol amplifying the sensations, or if the moment was truly that intoxicating, but you felt warm all over.

gaining awareness of the situation, you returned to the side of his head to whisper in his ear, "i'm not sure how much lando would like that," your lips brushed the top of his pronounced cheekbone.

charles quirked an eyebrow at you and responded, smirking, "why are we asking lando for permission?" the sweet, delicate demeanor he had when he approached you was fading, slowly replaced by a drive to assert his feelings for you with no regard to anything in his way. it was alluring to see him in this new light, so confident to show you what he's truly thinking. this possessive streak sparked a flaming heat in you that went straight to your core. using the hand that was already on his arm, you gripped it slightly tighter, steadying yourself to avoid becoming dizzy from the overstimulation of the moment.

having not heard a response from you, he pulled back from your ear slightly to analyze your face. it was clear he was looking for any signs of apprehension. there were none.

"hopefully i do not have to ask lando about the other things i want to do," he added, dangerously close to the shell of your ear. your skin erupted in goosebumps from his warm breath.

you paused to take in this moment. your slightly inebriated state allowed you to feel everything much more. you could tell his breathing had increased from your hand on his chest and your core, which was still pushed flush against his. you gazed up at him, noticing the slight lowness of his eyes. evidence that he was, as you were, in the 'drunk and interested' state.

between the alcohol having its effect on you, the heat of this moment, and most importantly, the man in front of you, you pull back slightly and shift your eyes away to lighten the intensity you were feeling. almost immediately, you make eye contact with lando. he is once again behind the dj booth, drink in hand and holding a suspicious look on his face. you notice his eyes glance down to your core, where charles is connecting the two of you. lifting both of his eyebrows slightly, you can almost sense a twinge of jealousy on his behalf. watching him, you see him take a sip of his drink before drifting out of your view.

your suggestive thoughts about lando from earlier in the night come rushing back to you.

"what are you thinking about?" charles asks lightly, bringing your attention back to him. you gaze into his blue eyes, feeling dizzy once more.

clearing all inappropriate thoughts of your best friend from your brain once more, you respond, not breaking eye contact, "was thinking about getting another drink."

"another one?" a throaty british accent spoke, almost as if on command. you glance over your shoulder, unmistakably recognizing the curly haired man beside you. "i knew you'd like that one," lando states, pointing at your empty glass proudly.

before you can fully acknowledge lando's presence, you were being guided away by him to the kitchen, his hand replacing charles' on your lower back. his, however, was a rougher and more urgent touch. as you brushed against everyone in the crowded room, you turned around to look at charles, shooting him a pained glance and an 'i'll be right back' look.

directing your attention back to lando, you stopped in your tracks. he looked down at you, pleasantly diluted and arrogantly smirking.

"are you seriously that dull?" you shout at him, ensuring he could hear you over the music. a couple glances were thrown your way, but it didn't phase you.

he watches you for a moment with the same languid expression, making you shift your weight between feet, slightly uncomfortable under his gaze. that is until he leans down, nearing the shell of your ear. you slightly shiver, both from his warm breath trailing down the side of your neck, and the idea of him being so close to you. your thoughts of him earlier resurfacing in your mind. suddenly you were very aware of how low his hand laid on your back. you clenched your legs slightly.

"if you knew who you belonged to, i wouldn't have to be dull," he teased lowly. "whose hands belong on you, hm?" you felt the hand on your lower back grip the fabric of your dress tighter.

goosebumps formed over your exposed skin at his vulgar words. this possessiveness was so completely different from charles' it made you squirm. feeling his smirk grow against the edge of your ear, you knew he noticed your change in behavior...and it was clear he liked it.

you were not at all pleased with him pulling you away from charles, but you were interested in seeing how far you could make him go. his words obviously showed his interest in blurring the lines of your friendship, so you decided to match his attitude. sure the drink you had was probably spurring this behavior on, but it wasn’t the first time you had thought about this.

looking up at him, you could see his blown pupils. the hat he had put on earlier was now turned backwards, pushing his curly hair down to his forehead, which glistened slightly. thoughts of charles slowly left your mind for the final time tonight. 

you moved closer to his tall frame, slightly pushing your chest against his, "can’t stand not getting what you want?” 

he shook his head left and right slightly with not a shred of shyness in his gaze, “can’t stand when someone touches what’s mine.”

[uhbambii]

Of Hushed Whispers

The glittering city of Treviso stretched out under the warm Antivan night, its cobblestone streets alive with the sound of music and laughter. The grand ballroom belonging to Dellamorte house was already packed with elegantly dressed figures, their masks gleaming under chandeliers that sparkled like captured starlight.

Rook adjusted her raven-black mask, her sharp eyes scanning the room. A surge of nerves threatened to unsettle her, though she did her best to bury it. Antiva’s crows were not known for their timidity, after all. Tonight, she was dressed in a sleek, dark red gown that clung to her frame, blending elegance with a touch of menace—appropriate for a crow, she thought.

“You clean up nicely, uccellina,” came a low, familiar voice behind her.

Rook turned to see Lucanis Dellamorte, his dark eyes glinting with mischief beneath a gold-lined mask. His midnight-black suit was impeccably tailored, the deep red accents along the lapel complementing the dark locs that framed his face. His gaze was sharp, but his smile was softer—dangerous, yet inviting.

“And you look entirely too comfortable,” Rook quipped, though she couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at her lips.

“Ah, comfort is confidence, no?” Lucanis stepped closer, offering his arm. “Come, dance with me. Let’s show these amateurs how it’s done.”

Rook raised a skeptical brow. “You think you can keep up?”

Lucanis chuckled, his tone dripping with playful arrogance. “Tesoro, I was born to lead.”

Without waiting for an answer, he led her onto the polished marble dance floor. The orchestra swelled, and the other masked dancers parted slightly to make way for the pair. Lucanis’s hand slid to Rook’s waist, guiding her as they began to move.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The music was a lively waltz, and Lucanis’s movements were fluid, confident. Rook found herself following his lead with ease, though she would never admit how much she enjoyed it.

“You’re good,” she said, trying to sound unimpressed, though her heart raced at the closeness between them.

“Good? Amore mio, I am magnifico,” Lucanis teased, leaning closer. His breath ghosted over her ear as he murmured, “And you—well, you’re dazzling tonight. It’s almost unfair to everyone else in this room.”

Rook felt heat rise to her cheeks but managed to roll her eyes. “Sweet talk won’t distract me, Amorino.”

“Distract you?” He smirked, spinning her expertly. “Why would I want to distract you when I can simply enjoy this moment, eh? You, in my arms, under the stars…”

“Under the chandeliers,” Rook corrected dryly, though her smile betrayed her.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Nearby, Teia and Viago observed the pair with mixed reactions. Teia sipped her wine and raised a brow at Viago. “Would you stop glaring holes into Lucanis?” she chided. “It’s unbecoming.”

Viago, whose dark eyes had been fixed on the dancing couple, scowled. His sharp features were framed by his usual untamed hair, and his black attire was as severe as his mood. “I’m not glaring.”

“You’re definitely glaring,” Teia replied. “Rook’s fine. She’s not some fledgling anymore.”

“She’s family,” Viago said curtly. “And Lucanis is—well, Lucanis.”

“Mm, fair point,” Teia said, hiding a smirk behind her glass. “But I think your sister can handle herself. And besides, she looks like she’s enjoying herself.”

Viago’s frown deepened as Lucanis whispered something to Rook, making her laugh softly.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The music slowed, shifting to a more intimate rhythm. Lucanis’s hand tightened slightly on Rook’s waist, pulling her closer. Their movements slowed, matching the sultry melody.

“You’re staring,” Rook said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Can you blame me?” Lucanis replied, his voice low and velvety. “You are… breathtaking.”

Rook felt her heart skip a beat. “You’re laying it on thick tonight, aren’t you?”

“Only because it’s true, bella mia,” he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “And because I can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you look when you smile.”

Before she could reply, the music ended, and the room erupted in applause. Lucanis took a step back and bowed dramatically, earning a soft laugh from Rook. She shook her head, but the warmth in her chest was undeniable.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Later that night, Lucanis led Rook back to his villa on the outskirts of Treviso. The air was cool and fragrant with the scent of blooming jasmine. The rooftop terrace of the Dellamorte villa was a world unto itself, far above the golden lights of the city.

Lucanis led her up to a blanket he had laid out. The view was stunning-stars scattered across the velvety sky, the city lights twinkling below like fireflies.

"Thoughtful," Rook said, sitting down and leaning back on her hands.

Lucanis sat beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. "I have my moments."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the quiet punctuated by the distant hum of the city. Eventually, Lucanis turned to her, his expression unusually soft.

"You know, Rook," Lucanis began, his tone softer now, "there's a saying about the stars."

"Oh?" She turned her head to look at him, curious.

He nodded, pointing upward. "They say the brightest ones are the souls of those destined to burn the fiercest in life. Dangerous, fiery, unforgettable."

She smirked. "Are you trying to say l'm a star?"

Lucanis smiled, his gaze shifting to something gentler. "No, uccellina. You're the whole night sky."

Rook stared at him for a moment, unsure whether to tease him or let the warmth of his words settle in her chest. She chose the latter, though she couldn't resist a small grin. “Smooth, Amorino. Very smooth.”

"What can I say? I'm a man of many talents." The playful glint returned to his eyes as he shifted closer, propping himself up on one arm.

Rook shook her head softly, then leaned closer. "You're not so bad yourself," she teased, her voice barely audible.

Lucanis chuckled, leaning in until their lips met in a slow, gentle kiss. His lips were warm and insistent, coaxing her into the moment.

Rook melted into him, her fingers threading into his dark hair as the kiss deepened, their surroundings fading into insignificance. When they finally broke apart, her cheeks were flushed, and she swatted his chest lightly.

"You're insufferable," she muttered, though there was no mistaking the affection in her tone.

"And you love it," he countered, stealing another kiss before she could reply. This one was quicker but just as meaningful, his lips lingering on hers before trailing to the corner of her mouth. "Ammettilo," he murmured against her skin, his voice low and teasing. "You'd be lost without me."

Rook arched an eyebrow, though her fingers stayed tangled in his hair. "Bold of you to assume."

"Not bold… truthful," he corrected, reclining back onto the blanket and tugging her down to rest against his chest. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice turning serious, though there was still a playful edge to it. "I'm the perfect man for you, uccellina mia. Every touch, every kiss— it's all for you."

Rook smiled against his chest, her fingers tracing the outline of his shirt. "Then I suppose I should be grateful you've decided to share yourself with me."

Lucanis chuckled, his fingers gently brushing through her hair. "Cara mia, I'm not sharing— I'm giving my heart to you. And trust me, I'll be making sure you never forget that."

She lifted her head to meet his eyes, her gaze steady. "Oh? Is that a promise, Lucanis?"

He kissed her again, slow and deep, his voice barely a whisper as they broke apart. "Promise, amore. My heart is yours, now and always."

The stars above them seemed to shine a little brighter as they held each other close, the quiet moments between kisses full of promises, laughter, and the kind of love that burned as brightly as the night sky itself.

———————————————————————————

So this actually took me 4hrs. to write because I kept changing the ending 🥲

ANYWAYS, I’m turning crumbs to meals! Eat up!

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

[jeonstudios]

dextrocardia | 13

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)

word count: 6k

warnings: descriptions of and talk about sa!!

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 13/? 

<previous | next>

© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

It keeps raining, and two hours later when it’s hitting the roof in a calm rhythm, you enter the garage through the open door. Rock music sounds from a speaker but it’s overshadowed by the powerful hits of Jeongguk’s gloved hands against the sandbag hanging from the mount. He’s foregone a shirt, his sweat-covered muscles glistening.

“You call that ‘taking it easy?’” you call out, notifying him of your presence.

He stops his punches, turning to face you with his hand steadying the bag.

“Huh?” he questions, chest heaving.

“I said: ‘you call that taking it easy?’”

He smiles, very out of breath. “I didn’t say ‘easy,’ just easier than what I’m used to.”

You shake your head, venturing further into the garage and reaching the bike.

“How do you even get on this thing? It’s so tall?” you wonder skeptically out loud as you trace the black leather seat with your fingers. It’s definitely a lot taller and wider than just an ordinary bicycle.

Jeongguk steps away from the sandbag, loosening the gloves with his teeth as he heads your way, heavy breaths echoing. You follow him with your eyes as he approaches, but instead of demonstrating like you thought he would, he stops behind you.

“Here,” he places his hands under your armpits.

“Oh, no, no, no,” you try to protest, but it’s too late, and you’re already being lifted onto the seat like a three-year-old.

You definitely also feel like a three-year-old because you don’t even try to reach for the handlebars, instead holding onto the little hill in front of the seat. It probably goes without saying that your feet don’t wholly touch the ground.

“We could go for a ride someday if you want?”

You turn your head to look at his grinning face.

“Uh... no.”

“What, you don’t trust me?”

You see the realization of what he just asked flash across his face, but you know it wasn’t how he meant it.

“You don’t seem to value your life very much, no,” you argue, hinting at how he almost died for you.

His face turns relieved, a small smile decorating his lips. “I do. But sometimes, there might be risks I’m willing to take.”

It’s your turn to not know exactly what to say, so you're quick to ask something else instead. You lean forward, actually managing to grab the handlebars somewhat correctly. “Do I look cool?”

Jeongguk’s smile widens, “Absolutely. Even more so if you had the appropriate gear.”

“So… highway patrol? Car or one of these things?”

“One of these things,” he chuckles. “It was exciting, especially car chases really got your blood pumping. Although I think my mom was in a constant state of a heart attack. And the chases didn’t happen that often; most of the time, it was just writing tickets, and I wanted to make more of a difference.”

“Understandable. Your mom, I mean.”

“Yeah. Also, who told you?” he narrows his eyes playfully.

“Jimin. He told me absolutely everything there is to know about you. All your secrets.”

“Nice try; I don’t have any secrets.”

You wonder to yourself how true that really is.

You’ve managed to keep your mind busy and occupied during the day, but when night time rolls around and the rain has only increased, you’re feeling a little anxious.

Standing outside the door to your room and staring at the handle, you don’t notice Jeongguk.

“You know, I don’t mind you sleeping with me.”

You lift your head, meeting his eyes. He’s shirtless again, looking as if he just came from the kitchen. Should you? Last night was very cozy, and if you're being honest with yourself, you liked it a lot. Probably more than you should. You felt… safer.

You hesitate.

“It’s up to you, but I’ll leave the door open.”

He prepares to leave, but you’re quick to make up your mind.

“No, I, um… I’ll just go and change, first?”

Giving you a soft nod, he leaves for his bedroom.

It takes you five minutes to change into a large t-shirt and some shorts and to wash up, and when you enter through the open door, closing it behind you, Jeongguk is folding a pair of pants to hang over a chair. You won’t pretend that you don’t let your eyes quickly skim over his shirtless body as he moves, your heart skipping a beat or maybe two.

“Is that the ring you wore during the mission?” you ask, watching him turn, first to face you and then to look at the object in question on his nightstand.

“Yeah.”

“Why did you keep it?”

He shrugs as he approaches the other side of the bed, the same side he slept on yesterday. “I don’t know. I wore it, then the hospital put it in one of those bags with my other belongings while they took me into surgery. Took the whole bag home, put the ring there. Didn’t wear it because… well, we’re not married, but I didn’t want to get rid of it.”

“Hm, okay,” you accept what sounds like a reasonable explanation.

Jeongguk lifts the duvet, getting into the bed while watching you. “You didn’t keep yours?”

“Don’t know what happened to it, but it was fake and pretty much worthless, so…”

“Ouch,” Jeongguk says, clutching his chest.

“Okay, first of all, you just said we weren’t married. And there was no material worth to it. Second, your heart is on the other side.”

Smoothly–and definitely making you giggle while you follow his lead and get into bed–he switches hands to hold the right side of his chest instead. You guess it’s a learning curve.

“Ouch,” he repeats, “Just tell me if you want a divorce.”

It’s with a big smile that you get comfortable, pulling the white duvet up to your chin as you lay on your side, facing the nightstand.

You feel Jeongguk move around a bit too.

“I think the rain’s gonna let up tomorrow,” he mumbles. “It’s been a while since it was this… persistent.”

“Yeah… Thank you for letting me sleep here. It feels… better to not be alone.”

“It’s no problem; I don’t mind.”

Silence falls after that. You listen to the rhythmic beat of raindrops hitting the roof, trying to slow your breaths and heartbeat enough to fall asleep. Although you don’t feel as anxious anymore, it still doesn’t happen. 

Minute by minute ticks by, and you don’t know if Jeongguk is asleep or not.

“It was raining,” you say, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “That night when we followed a suspect into a hotel bar.”

You take a breath, listening to the silence of the room, half expecting Jeongguk to stop you. But he doesn’t; maybe because he’s asleep? So you continue quietly, revisiting a memory.

“He stayed there for quite a few hours, so we did as well. We were hoping he’d lead us to his brother so we could arrest both of them for arms trafficking. Hoseong ordered us beer, more so for appearances, but still, and we talked while we kept an eye on the man and waited for him to leave. I remember that we talked about another case we’d just solved, and Hoseong was going on and on about how smart he thought I was and how glad he was to have me as his partner. I was smiling ear to ear, thinking that I was so incredibly lucky, getting to work with and learn from someone who truly saw me. When the suspect instead got a room there for the night, we did as well, figuring it would be more comfortable than sitting in the car all night.”

It’s still quiet, but it feels cathartic to get it out, regardless if Jeongguk is awake to hear it or not. While you've unfortunately noticed more similarities between him and Hoseong than you'd like--like their dark, expressive eyes--Jeongguk feels... different.

“We were meant to do shifts, always have the door open just a sliver so we’d notice if he left. We took our jackets off and Hoseong placed his stuff on the bedside table. Since it was summer, I was wearing a t-shirt and a skirt with my gun strapped to my thigh under it, and so I put the gun in the pocket of my jacket. When I turned around… he kissed me. I was caught by surprise, but I… I kissed him back at first because… Well, I loved him. But then I tried to step back to tell him that we really shouldn’t, that we needed to be alert and ready to follow if the suspect left. But he didn’t listen.”

You pause, feeling the pain and the fear from that day all over again, your skin turning cold. There’s movement behind you, and an arm is slowly and gently draped across your middle, grasping your freezing hand. It makes you feel something, peering down at his hand and the tattoos covering his skin. He’s very warm, and he feels like he’s… stable. Like he has roots growing into the ground that makes him unshakeable. Meanwhile, you’re a leaf; at the mercy of everyone and everything. Easy to blow away, to rip to shreds, to stomp flat to the sound of your bones crunching.

“He held my jaw so tight, I couldn’t speak, and he told me that I’d been teasing him all day in the skirt and that I should be happy because he knew that I loved him. Said I should just suck it up and put out. He… ” you go quiet, unsure of how many details you’re willing to relive. 

Does Jeongguk need to know every step you were pushed toward the bed, how he threw you onto it and got on top of you while you fought? How he unzipped his pants and how he violated you? He probably doesn’t.

“He used his handcuffs and cuffed my hands around the metal bed frame. I tried to…. He said he’d kill me if I screamed.” You remember his hushed yet furious voice in your ear, remember knowing how it was going to end, how he’d kill you right then and there.

“I don’t know if he did it at first because he enjoyed it or if he realized right away that he would need to get rid of me, but he put both his hands around my neck and squeezed as hard as he could. I pulled my hands so violently that I dislocated a thumb, but… I got one out. So I tried to stop him, but he was too strong, using all his body weight. My nails on his skin didn’t faze him, and I was losing consciousness. At the very last second–while my vision was turning spotty–I managed to grab the gun from his holster. I aimed it for his thigh and pulled the trigger. He let go. Somehow, I managed to get him off me, and… out of me… but I could barely see or breathe, and there was blood everywhere.

“He swore at me, and I think he tried to get up but couldn’t, so he reached for his phone, and I ran for the door as best I could. But what was I supposed to do? Call the cops? What do you think he was doing? I heard him ask our coworkers for help, and I knew. They were coming to help him. So I stood there, in the hall of a shitty hotel, with no car keys, no phone, and nowhere to go, while his back-up was mere minutes away.

“Then, someone down the hall opened their door. It was a young woman, and she peeked out, looked at me where I stood, a shaky, bloody, wheezy mess, and she came and pulled me inside right before the police exited the elevator. I managed to say that we were all law enforcement, but I didn’t need to tell her that they’d kill me off if they found me because we heard Ryung’s voice through the door, telling the rest to find me and make me… pay.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been as scared as I was when they knocked on her door. She gestured for me to get inside the bathroom, and I did, watching as she pulled a bathrobe around her body, turning most of the lights off and opening the door to pretend like she’d just woken up. I heard them ask for me, and I heard her politely tell them that no, she hadn’t seen a woman or noticed any commotion. But I saw how her hand trembled behind the door, and I thought the whole time that they knew and were just waiting to push their way inside to get me. But they didn’t. Instead, they left. Shaken, she sat with me on the bathroom floor as I cried, and she helped me clean up a bit and loaned me some of her clothes before she helped me to the hospital across the city border. I stayed the night to have my injuries tended to and documented and a kit done, and the next day, I went to that city’s station to file a report. A female officer helped me, and she’s the only one I’ve told most of this stuff to. Well, except for you now, but I take it you read the report? And the station… you weren’t working that day, but it was your station, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” comes a strained mumble, and you feel him hug you just a bit tighter.

You stare at the wall, feeling both anxious and numb. “It changes you, having someone do that to you. All my life, I’ve known, theoretically speaking, that there’s a risk. A man, anywho, anywhere, anytime, can decide that I don’t get to live anymore. But to experience it, to see the intentions in his eyes, and how he’s… deciding… and not being able to do anything about it. It changes you. It’s always there, the feeling of helplessness.” “I…” Sounding like he wants to say something but can’t find the words, Jeongguk lets silence fall again. 

“You don’t know what to say, do you?” you smile a sad smile to yourself. “No.” “It’s alright, you don’t need to say anything, I just thought I’d tell you.”

You feel him move closer while also gently pulling you back toward him. You roll back, finding yourself inches away from him where he lies, head supported by his hand and looking down at you. “I’m just… furious, and frustrated, and I wish so badly that I’d been there to help you. If I had just transferred earlier… maybe I could’ve prevented it, or stopped it, or even just caught him and helped you get your justice. Instead, I came along and made it worse.”

You find yourself so lost in him. In the warmth of his body that’s thawing the entirety of yours, and in his kind brown eyes. You can’t believe he’s the same person who took every chance he could to hurt you as recently as a few months ago. He just… looks so sweet.

“You know, you look like a little kid when you’re sleeping” you smile, watching Jeongguk slowly open his eyes, looking a little confused. “You’re also always up before me, so I’ve rarely seen you asleep. I’m not really a morning person.”

The moment he comes to properly, he smiles lazily and rolls his eyes half-heartedly. “I’m not a morning person either, actually,” he explains, his voice lower and raspier than usual.

“Then why are you always awake so early?”

He looks at you as if he’s not sure what to say. “Cause… I have… stuff to do?”

“Okay…”

Jeongguk doesn’t address the suspicion in your voice, instead, he stretches his arms over his head. The duvet moves, exposing his chest and the scar to your eyes.

Letting your fingertip hover just above it, you look back at his still very sleepy face. “Did you really never know about your organs being mirrored?”

“No,” he yawns. 

“But… how? Didn’t you ever have your heart and lungs listened to?”

“I did, but apparently, it’s not too much of a different sound. Sure, my heart beat would have sounded a bit fainter from my left side but it’s such a rare condition that there was no real use investigating further. I had a heart that beat in the right rhythm and no other symptoms so that was enough, I guess,” he shrugs.

“Can I listen?” you bite your lip hopefully.

He raises his eyebrows, “To my heart?”

You nod enthusiastically

“Buy me dinner first, why don’t you?”

Rolling your eyes, you feel warm. You meet his gaze and slowly lower your head to his chest while moving your hair out of your face.

His skin feels nice against the side of your face, his chest moving up and down under you slowly, and you hear it. It’s strong, rhythmic, but…

“Are you sure you’re fine, though?” you ask, turning a little more serious, “It’s beating kinda… fast?”

Surely a fit guy like Jeongguk has a slower resting heart rate? 

“You’re also, you know, listening to my heart,” he says, like it’s supposed to mean something?

Wait. Is he… Is he implying that you listening to his heart is making it race? That can’t be true, can it?

You lift your face off of his chest, and for a moment, you’re just looking at each other softly, curiously. His black hair is a little messy, but he looks so warm, and you–.

His phone rings.

Jeongguk sighs but reaches for it where it lies on his nightstand, his eyes widening when he reads the screen. “Shit, I gotta take this.”

He throws the duvet off of him and gets up as he answers the call, and you see him in just his shorts as he disappears out of the room with the phone to his ear.

Following his lead, you rise from the bed, but instead of going wherever Jeongguk disappeared to, you head into your room to throw on a hoodie and some sweatpants. While alone, you take a moment to think about last night. You weren’t actually planning on talking about it. You never have, not in that much detail, although you definitely left some things out. And while it feels… hard, it also feels… better? Or, like you’re at least not too scared of him looking at you weirdly or saying it was your fault. Or even worse, like you opened his eyes how easy it was to render you entirely helpless…

Quietly, you enter the kitchen, spotting Jeongguk standing at the counter with the tray of cupcakes you made together in front of him. He’s wearing a dark green t-shirt now.

He places the phone between his raised shoulder and ear as he peels a wrapper off, “can you ask them to mail copies of the documents to the station? And how did it go, did you manage to reach the mechanic?”

You watch him as he listens to whoever’s on the other side, putting half a cupcake in his mouth. “Mhm, no, no, just book whatever time she’s available. We can meet at the station if she wants to come in or I can go to her. Same for the hotel staff.” 

Is he… looking into your case again? Like, thoroughly following up on all leads and with all possible witnesses? You definitely know it’s not because of what you told him last night; he must’ve decided to do it priorly.

His eyes find you as he listens intently to what the voice has to say. You take a few steps, coming to stand next to him, smiling softly at how cute he looks when he’s multitasking. With one hand, he lifts the other end of the cupcake to you. You take it, watching him as he looks off into the distance absentmindedly. “Alright, thank you.”

You pop the piece into your mouth, chewing it while making a note to definitely bake more.

He ends the call and puts the phone down on the counter. “These are actually really good,” he says, putting his frosting-covered fingertip to his mouth.

You smile, admiring him and all he’s done and is doing for you. A little overcome with emotions, you place your hand on his shirt, pulling it down slowly at the collar and him toward you. He looks curious, but you focus on his lips. Biting your own, you try not to let the fear of rejection win, and you stand on your toes, and you kiss him carefully.

It’s brief, and it’s sweet, and you can’t help but smile when your heels touch the floor again.

“Thank you.”

He blinks, looking happy but surprised.

“What?” you chuckle a little nervously when he doesn’t say anything.

“Nothing. I just… wasn’t sure you actually liked me. Like, at all.”

You tilt your head, listening to him as he continues.

“I know that we kissed that time on the hammock, but we probably weren’t on the same page then, were we? Cause I thought we were, that we were alone and that we had something, but you… you played along because there were people watching, right? You were still acting while I wasn’t.”

You haven’t thought a lot about that moment, embarrassed about what happened and how you reacted, but he’s right. You were acting. You weren’t sure he was, but if he really wasn’t… What were his motives that night?

“Yeah, but you kinda literally took a sword to the heart for me later, and you’ve been really, really kind and sweet to me ever since.”

He grabs another cupcake, chewing a piece of it with a look on his face that tells you he’s… planning something. You wait, expecting him to say something but he just smiles and lifts the other piece to your mouth. Before you can even decide whether to take a bite or not, he nudges the cupcake against your mouth, getting streaks of frosting across your lips.

“What the…”

But he grins, puts the cupcake down, and smiles in a way that lets you know this was exactly what he wanted. Putting his fingers under your chin to lift your head, he leans down to kiss you. You hold your breath, feeling his soft lips against yours again.

He tastes of frosting and racing heart beats, and you’re pretty sure your cheeks are warmer than usual.

“You don’t need to thank me for that.”

And you feel warm, almost ecstatic, but also like you’ve… forgotten something.

The day after, Jeongguk receives a call that has him hurriedly looking through the house for the keys to his bike, rushing off somewhere after telling you that he’ll probably be back in a few hours. ‘A few hours’ is too vague to really tell you anything, and you’re so used to not asking questions that you don’t think to.

While he’s gone, you decide to start the dishwasher, and you’ve come to learn that Jeongguk always has at least one mug in his office that he’ll keep refilling with coffee way too many times without washing.

Approaching the office, you’re not surprised to see the door to it ajar. It’s rarely closed, and it’s almost like it signifies the transparency between you. Jeongguk doesn’t say much about the case, but it’s not because you can’t know; it’s because he knows you don’t want to know. 

Or didn’t want to know. As you’re standing in the quiet room, his blue mug in your hand, you see a disheveled stack of papers. Usually, you would’ve walked past it, or maybe even re-stacked it neatly before walking past it. 

This time, Hoseong’s name catches your eye. Of course, it’s not weird considering it’s Jeongguk’s main case, but you still find yourself staring at the printed letters. 

Three hours after he left, Jeongguk unlocks his front door, opening it and stepping inside. He sighs at how the people he despises most on the planet always just seem to slip out of his grasp. But when inside, he finds himself easily letting go of that thought and instead thinking about something that has him smiling to himself.

With his shoes and jacket off, he begins his search, expecting to find you either in the living room or your bedroom and getting confused when you aren’t. He peers inside the kitchen and even puts his head into his own bedroom, almost starting to get worried when you’re nowhere to be seen.

He’s about to visit the second bathroom when he passes his office, seeing movement from within the small sliver in the doorway.

“There you are,” he comments happily as he opens the door wider, looking around and taking a moment to process what he’s seeing. “I almost thought you’d evaporated.”

You look up from the floor, where you’re sitting with a bunch of papers spread out in front of you, Jeongguk’s empty cup beside you.

“These are the ones you’re observing?” you ask, lifting a paper toward him, a pen wedged between your index and middle finger.

He takes it from you, quickly reading a summary of months of hard work. “Mhm.”

“Okay,” you say, looking at another paper in your hand, twirling the pen absentmindedly in your other, “I think I have some suggestions.”

After spending hours and hours with Jeongguk, having him explain the progress they’ve made and who they’re investigating, you take a step back to look at the post-its on the living room wall. It has all the fugitives’ relatives, their friends, coworkers, neighbors…. everyone. Since neither of the four men have used their card nor phone, they must’ve almost certainly gotten help, but from who?

You sink down onto the soft cushions of Jeongguk’s couch with a tired sigh, reaching for the remote and smiling when there’s a rerun of a zombie movie.

Jeongguk follows your lead, spreading out as well. “You wanna like… hold hands or something? Cause I could do with a good hand-holding.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, feeling your chest warm from the inside. It’s so easy for him to make you all giddy, forgetting about all of your pains and worries. Or almost all of them, at least.

Still, you nod, and your smile grows when he scoots closer to you and takes your hand in his warm one.

Even as he directs his focus toward the TV, you keep yours on him. On his tired yet still bright, dark eyes, his nose, the faint hollowness under his cheekbones, and his mouth. His hair is just calling out for you to run your fingers through, but you stand your ground, settling for getting to hold his hand. 

“What?” he asks, smiling cheekily at you.

“You asked to hold my hand?” you remind, moving his hand between the two of yours, tracing the veins on the back of it.

“Yeah?”

“It’s cute. You buy flowers and hold hands and open doors.”

Surely, a guy like him can’t exist, right?

“I do. Which reminds me, you were just giving my flowers away?”

He looks at you, faking hurt. Slowly, and with your heart beating hard to nourish the butterflies growing in your stomach, you intertwine your fingers with his. “I didn’t know they were from you; there was never a card or anything.”

“Fine.”

Seemingly accepting your short answer, Jeongguk watches the movie with you for a while in silence, your head coming to rest against the top of his arm. You keep his hand between yours, trying to stay cool despite how being this close to him affects you. There are definitely some sort of butterflies.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about as well?” he mumbles quietly after a while.

“No?”

“At the barbeque, the guy that you were talking to? Who was that? And what did he say?”

You search your mind for a second before it comes back to you; the tall, handsome man who approached you. “I don’t know. He said his name was Haneul, but I don’t think he lived there. I think I heard something about someone having their cousin over or something like that, so I think that was him. Don’t think I saw him again.”

“And what did he say to you? You didn’t look…. very happy.”

You recall the way he felt… off and how he wasted absolutely no time, insulting your husband and offering to take his place. You definitely remember the unfunny feeling of actually wanting to have a rude Jeongguk around just to keep Haneul away.

“Uh, he hit on me.”

“Did you say you were married?”

You scoff. “Yeah, but he didn’t seem to mind. Basically accused you of lacking in bed and offering to take your place in secret.”

“What?” Jeongguk asks, sounding surprised. “He didn’t look that ballsy to me?”

“It was before he saw how intimidating you are.”

“I’m glad it seemed like I scared him off then. If he was bothering you?”

“Yeah…”

“So why didn’t you tell me? When I asked about him? I would’ve kept an even closer eye on you.”

That, you don’t have to search your mind for. You remember very clearly how scared you were that Jeongguk would laugh. Or that he wouldn’t even believe you because after all, why would anyone hit on someone like you? Especially a man who looked like Haneul because creep or not, he was handsome. Like so often, you fill with shame. Embarrassment for who you are and how you look. It’s been surprisingly easy to not focus as much on it, but it will always be at the back of your mind, and this is just a painful reminder.

“I… didn’t think you’d believe me.”

He squeezes your hand, and you hear and feel him sigh sadly. “I’m sorry for being so mean to you and for being such an overall disappointment. I want to think that I sensed that you were scared and that’s why I kept an eye on you after and asked you about it. But I couldn’t even tell that you were afraid of me as well, so I don’t know, honestly.”

“It’s fine…”

“No, it’s not. I guess I hope your future real husband will be better than your fake one,” he jokes in an attempt to lift the mood.

“Oh. I’m not… I don’t think the possibilities of me getting married are very big.”

“Oh? Because you don’t like… men?”

You nearly snort. Honestly, yeah, all of your problems and issues could be summarized into that short sentence.

“Yeah. Unfortunately, I’m not interested in marrying a woman, but I’m not… I’ve never had a relationship of any kind with a man–that went deeper than acquaintances–which didn't leave me hurt in one way or another. And I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“I know you said your dad’s an ass, and I know what happened with Hoseong and us guys at the station, but what… If you want to talk about it, what else…?”

“Who else has hurt me, you mean? It’s complicated, I guess.” 

You look down at your intertwined hands, how Jeongguk’s looks so big between yours. 

You sigh at the memory of how… non mind-blowing your relationships have been so far. Most guys you’ve dated haven’t made even the slightest of efforts for your birthday–if they even remembered it–or to plan dates of any kind after the first honeymoon months. You’ve tried, but with many men, it feels more like they want a live-in maid, who provides sex. It's definitely a conscious effort, how you try not to match Jeongguk to what your younger self dreamed of in a man.

“You remember… at the house? When you said you loved your ex, and I laughed because you’re a man and not capable of love?”

“Yeah.”

“I think that sums it up. My dad didn’t care for my mom or me, he only returned when his new, younger girlfriends–whose bodies weren’t ruined by childbearing–grew tired of his disrespectful, old ass. He knew that she still loved him, and he took advantage of that. I guess I was a little weary around men from a young age after that, but still hopeful that there could be good men out there too. Then I started dating and noticed pretty quickly that… I wasn’t really important like I’d hoped. I wanted dates–even just a picnic in the park occasionally–and I guess I took birthday celebrations–of any kind–for granted. One guy got me a bunch of candy he knew I didn’t like, so he could eat it himself, and another guy entirely forgot it was my birthday even though his was ten days before, and I got him a relatively expensive watch he’d been wanting. One guy did take me out to eat at a pretty nice restaurant, but he was also shamelessly checking out the waitress right in front of me. I saw my friends be treated the same way, and we all just… kept trying. One of my friends was in a relationship for four years, and he was a real sweetheart; made time for her, got her flowers, gave her compliments, all that. Then she discovered he’d been cheating since day one. It wasn’t until Hoseong that I truly decided it wasn’t worth it.”

“You shouldn’t give up hope.”

“It’s easy for you to say, Jeongguk. You’re a man. Your fellow men look out for you and women still care for you. And to be honest… like I said, what happened to me… it’s not something you just move past. Wherever I go, I know that practically every man I meet on the street could decide to hurt me just because he wants to. And it would be up to him, the fate of my entire life is in the hands of every random guy I pass. If he wanted to kill me, there isn’t much I could do. Not only do I know that theoretically speaking, most of them are stronger than me and don’t care what happens to me, but I know the feeling of having it happen.”

“I understand,” he assures softly, squeezing your hand, “I didn’t mean it in a ‘get over it’ way, just that I know there are men out there who would treat you like an equal partner and who would like to do those things you described that you used to want.”

“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know, it just isn’t worth the risk for me. Romantic love isn’t everything.”

There is still a trace of pity in the look he gives you when you smile sadly at him.

After brushing your teeth and changing into your sleepwear, you find yourself outside the door to your bedroom. The storm has passed, so you definitely should go back to sleeping in your own room.

As if he could read your mind, Jeongguk, on his way to his bedroom, slows down as he passes you. He turns, looks at you and smiles gently as he continues to back toward his door. “You don’t need an excuse, you know? If you want to sleep in your room, that’s fine, but I can’t say I’m not hoping you’ll sleep with me.”

You lift your eyebrows at him, as if to say ‘oh, really?’ He should definitely stop saying ‘sleep with me.’

He shrugs, “I like having you close.”

For half a second, you shut your eyes, realizing you have no defense against him. So you open them, sighing and dropping your shoulders before following him with some species of critter in your stomach. He chuckles.

<previous | next>

author's note: please let me know if you like it! i feel like this part was really important and it was definitely hard to write because fortunately(!!!) i have not experienced what reader has and while i did my best to portray it how i think someone could react and deal with stuff like this, at the end of the day, i don't actually know and i'd hate if it comes off as wrong or glamorizing in any way. if it does, that is 1000% not my intention. on a lighter note; this is very much a calm before a storm lol

[uvobreakmylegs]

favorite fic? of yours and in general

I don't feel like picking and choosing between my own fics so instead I wanna share some fics written by my fellow yandere writers (some of which I may have shared in similar asks in the past but idc I wanna share them again):

from @hypnoswrites:

Chrollo vs a blacklist Hunter (I really enjoy how fast and how easily Chrollo was able to handle that situation, from cleaning up the body to controlling reader)

Illumi uses a needle on reader (love the way poor reader's mind is addled in this one and how easily she disregards the violent scene due to Illumi's influence. love the ending as well, it's so chilling)

Uvogin x reader x Franklin (two big men - my greatest weakness❤️❤️❤️)

vampire Razor (idk how to summarize this one accurately there's so much going on and I love it all so much)

apocalypse AU with Pakunoda (Paku my beloved❤️❤️❤️)

from @ddarker-dreams:

Chrollo's birthday (love me some Greedy Chrollo)

third party recognizes reader while she's out with Chrollo (poor reader tried SO hard to keep the guy away AND keep Chrollo appeased😭)

aftermath of Chrollo's darling being kidnapped (all of the conversations that Lock's readers have with Chrollo are always great to read but this one in particular sticks out in my mind and I love it)

Feitan's darling runs away (THAT FUCKING ENDING OMG)

Scaramouche's darling distracts him (I know next to nothing about Genshin Impact but I really enjoyed this fic❤️❤️❤️)

from @cherrysha:

ABO Uvogin (this fic lives in my head rent free)

Uvo's darling has a nightmare (there's something scary about how Uvo is so violent in trying to find her and how it contrasts with how gentle he is after. the anxiety she feels from her nightmare which then turns into comfort when he has her in his arms)

reader tries to kill Hisoka (poor reader😭)

god AU with Franklin (I love love love the buildup to Franklin's true reveal in this fic. how Franklin's presence is there within the temple once reader visits, but it's only when she finally collects the proper materials that he appears for real before her. plus the addition of reader possibly being in danger if she fails at the task he's set for her. there's a lot of buildup and dread in this fic and I love it)

Meleoron x reader (this fic is just cute as hell and I need to share it)

from @after-witch:

Feitan saves reader after she's been kidnapped (I've definitely shared this one before but that isn't stopping me from sharing it again bc this fic is amazing from beginning to end❤️❤️❤️)

one night stand with Feitan (I just love the way reader and Feitan end up connecting and how reader being herself is enough to make Feitan decide that he wants to keep her)

vampire Chrollo x reader (this is another fic that has so much going on that it's hard to get all of my thoughts on it out. it's just such a fun read and I love The Lost Boys vibes)

Chrollo's patience runs out (just Bastard Chrollo at his finest)

Uvogin retrieves his darling (in these kind of fics you just KNOW that Uvo will be getting his darling after they run, but it's always a wonder as to how that happens and what Uvo's reaction will be)

from @absolute-flaming-trash:

Hisoka buys his darling a gift (using bungee gum as a LEASH omg)

Hisoka looking for his soulmate (I really liked this version of the 30 seconds soulmate au❤️❤️❤️ it was interesting plus it offered more opportunities for reader to annoy Hisoka lol)

Chrollo and kidnapped reader (poor reader😭)

Illumi punishes reader (😳😳😳)

Mahito asking about love (anything with Mahito is generally fucked up due to him being.... himself. but this one had some moments that were kinda cute. like the description of Mahito laying on the bed reading a magazine, or the way he's described looking at reader. but all it takes is for one word and the mood feels dangerous again. also it's currently raining rn so reading this fic feels appropriate)

[meiieiri]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 [gojo satoru]

synopsis: in every other universe and lifetime he has yet to lead, megumi will always cherish the painfully brief time he felt the warmth of a proper family and would have gladly referred to himself as the son of the strongest.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader | song inspo: chemtrails over the country club, scott street | visuals: megumi’s jacket

warnings: angst-ish, canon-compliant violence (mostly caused by our pookie wookie megumi who doesn’t tolerate scumbag bullies), mentions of bullying, and possible (bc i’m delulu) character death. | a/n: i just want megumi to have one last moment with his dad please, gege, i’m on my knees here. also hehe, get the title? ya’ll get it? someone please shove that arctic-haired freak to the NORTH! 🥹

Nobara Kugisaki is the classic definition of an Instagram girlie with a passion for fashion.

Honestly, she could appropriately appraise clothes without a second glance, and she could differentiate big fashion brands just by the fabric and silhouette alone even without a brand logo.

It happened on a Monday afternoon while she and Yuji were having a quick coffee in the lounge. Yuji is currently playing one of his Nintendo Switch MMORPG games that he bought from the mall last Saturday while Nobara was scrolling through her phone, swiping left as she watches her mutuals’ Instagram stories. The trio is incomplete today since Megumi mentioned he’ll be running some errands with you and Satoru today.

After positively getting envious of Mei Mei’s supposed extravagant shopping trip in Ginza today, Kugisaki promptly mutes any stories from her for a full twenty four hours. Then, as she swipes left yet again, she nearly drops her phone on the ground which would pretty much set her off on a rampage because she just got its LCD screen fixed. But luckily, she holds onto it.

“Fushiguro has an Instagram account?!”

Yuji himself hits pause on the game he’s playing and leans over the table to see what Kugisaki is talking about. No way. Fushiguro? That sulky, couldn’t-be-bothered-to-care-but-I-actually-do-care embodiment of teenage angst having an Instagram handle? What would he even post on there?

Their questions are answered as Fushiguro’s feed pops up, and it’s filled with his pictures, but that’s not the issue. The two dunderheads didn’t seem to mind that in every photo, Megumi looked like a magazine cover boy, what caught their attention is the apparel he’s wearing.

“What the hell?! He’s wearing Arc’teryx?” Kugisaki couldn’t believe it. She zooms in on the candid shot of Megumi in what looks to be a ski resort and an audible gasp escapes her throat. No way. No frigging way. She does a quick image search and sure enough, she is redirected to Arc’teryx’s official website. See? Kugisaki never misses when it comes to fashion.

Yuji’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when he sees the price tag. “One thousand five hundred US dollars?!”

“And look at this! He’s literally tagged in Gojo and Y/N-sensei’s stories.”

Sure enough, the first they see is Satoru’s story which has a video of you picking out new clothes from the rack for Megumi to try on in the fitting room. You looked so cute and teeny tiny next to the teenager and Kugisaki giggles at the thought you walking around with two literal giants in the mall, one of them being your ward and the other, your arctic-haired husband of three years.

“There’s another one!” Itadori says excitedly. The next is a story you took, it’s a photo of Megumi and Gojo, their backs turned and their hands fully occupied by shopping bags, seemingly unaware of the camera. In the photo, they’re checking out new sneakers in Onitsuka Tiger’s storefront window. In a flash, Kugisaki switches off her phone, and immediately begins to head out the door. “Hey, where’re you going?”

Nobara knows that particular galleria, it should be in Tokyo Midtown. “Out, maybe I could borrow Gojo-sensei’s or Y/N-sensei’s credit card!”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to come along?”

Gojo chuckles under his breath. It’s honestly amusing how you won’t normally ask that, given his newfound title as the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer of this generation. A skirmish with a grade two cursed spirit? Pfft. That’s practically child’s play to your white-haired boyfriend. A rogue grade one cursed spirit that turned out to be a special grade? Maybe you’ll sneak some bandages in his bag just in case. Bottom line is you wholeheartedly trust Satoru will always make it out of a mission in one piece.

But here you were seemingly more tense than usual which is incomprehensible because today’s hardly dangerous mission is simple.

Track down the son of Toji Fushiguro.

“I think I got it, babe.” Satoru leans his head in through the rolled down car window to plant a kiss on your forehead. He pats your cheek lovingly, setting off in the direction of the house after taking one last confirmatory look at the address written down in the file sheet. “Well, let’s hope he’s nothing like his dad. Promise you’ll check on me if I don’t come back in an hour?” he teases.

You lightly slap his wrist. Sometimes you wonder how you fell in love with this literal man-child. He’s just so insufferable. Gorgeous in every way but insufferable all the same. “I’m pretty sure a six-year-old boy isn’t gonna try to murder you. If he does, let the record show that I sympathize with him completely.”

“You meanie!”

Sticking his tongue out at you when you blow him a kiss, he disappears into the small street adjacent to the neighborhood’s main road. Coming here, Satoru was uncharacteristically nervous. At the rest stop earlier, you watched the scene tensely from the convenience store window. For once, the obnoxiously loud sorcerer was quiet, hands in his uniform pockets, his cerulean orbs trained on the pavement, his foot kicking the asphalt pebbles on the ground, deep in thought.

To be honest, he had no obligation to make the journey here even if this entire affair was born from Toji Fushiguro’s final words that sounded almost like a desperate plea. “In two or three years, my kid will be sold off to the Zenin clan. Do whatever you will with that.” Satoru doesn’t know why — he’s not exactly the brightest when it comes to his interpersonal relationship skills so he could be wrong about this — but those twenty one words sounded more like four simple words: “Please save my son.”

And so, in a matter of only thirty minutes, you spot Satoru from afar, his hand protectively around his would have been assassin’s six-year-old son as they walk back to the car. Looks like the little boy had made his choice.

And you could see with the way Satoru protectively held Megumi back from crossing the street on a green light that he has also made his choice. Just thirty minutes ago, you were bantering with the version of Satoru that would be reluctant to go out of his way to help someone, now, you were face to face with someone new, someone who has been changed almost in a blink of an eye.

Stepping out of the car, you make your way towards the pair, a faint smile on your lips at the sight of Megumi’s tiny backpack slung over Satoru’s shoulder. Your boyfriend gently nudges Megumi over in your direction, introducing him and you crouch down to meet the little boy’s hesitant eyes. “Hi there, Megumi.” Your voice is as carefully gentle as a psalm, you didn’t want to overwhelm him more than he probably already is. “I’m Y/N.”

“Hello.”

“Ice cold,” Satoru whistles, ruffling Megumi’s hair. But you figured that would be the case. A quiet breath of laughter comes from Satoru when you smile endearingly at the kid’s curtness.

As the three of you settle into the backseat, you and Satoru share a fond look when Megumi who has acted all guarded and silent the entire ride home from Chiba begins to drift off to sleep, his arms hugging his backpack but he was dangerously teetering off the seat, so Satoru gently picks him up, allowing him to lay his tiny head on his shoulder.

“He’s gonna stick around with us for a long time, huh?” you whispered, rubbing Megumi’s back as he slept soundly in Satoru’s arms, the three of yu blissfully unaware of just how much your life has changed. You came to Chiba and there was only you and Satoru, now, you were three. And though you know Satoru doesn’t intend to step in as a guardian, you could tell he was slowly settling into the inevitability of that fact. This boy needed a new start, a home, and people to guide him as he grew.

“…Yeah, he will,” Satoru answers, his eyes filled with wonder himself. Earlier when he first met Megumi, he told him to become strong enough to keep up with him.

But for now, maybe this was enough.

For the most part, Megumi is a good kid.

He diligently helps you with the housework without needing to be told twice the same way he diligently trains under Gojo’s tutelage. He studies hard despite only being in primary school, and he’s well-mannered in every way…at least to you, the kid won’t pass up the opportunity to scowl and call Satoru a lanky freak when he’s being pestered by him.

Because he’s so young to be sleeping in Tokyo Jujutsu High’s dormitories, you and Satoru settled into the idea of renting an apartment near the campus premises. Since you and Satoru are eighteen years old now, it was high time that the two of you start growing into your roles as functional adults which means leasing an apartment, paying the bills, growing your careers and taking your relationship to the next level.

Of course, you and Satoru both piled in cash when it comes to raising Megumi. Satoru mostly shouldered rent, monthly utilities and Megumi’s tuition, being a rich guy like him, those were practically small beans to him. You, on the other hand, shouldered the groceries, Megumi’s clothes and other needs.

One day, while on your way to pick up Megumi, you pass by the trendy Daikanyama district due to a road closure leading to the Ebisu district where Megumi’s primary school is. The inconvenience is nothing short of serendipitous as you and your boyfriend really did need a quick breather and some time for yourselves.

“I feel like I’m gonna turn into a wine dad very soon. Who would have known enrolling a kid would be that tough?” Satoru huffs, his hand protectively around your waist as you walked past boutique after boutique. “Like how am I supposed to know what his blood type is for the school clinic record?”

You hummed, sneakily stealing a kiss from him to which he responds to by pulling you closer, and pretending to bite off your ear. “For all the school knew, Megumi is ours. That would explain why they felt a little icky towards us when they saw how young we are back in that parent-teacher meeting.”

“Mmph, fair point. A cute son will come from a handsome father after all—“

“—Oh please. You’re okay at best.”

“You didn’t say that last night when I had you all folde—“

“—Please do not finish that sentence in public.”

Digressing, Satoru sighs, planting a contrite kiss on your warm cheek as the two of you leisurely walk down the picturesque lane of Tokyo’s very own version of Soho. Once you reach the main road, a certain outerwear apparel store catches your eye. You stop in front of the store window, looking curiously at the displayed winter items. “Megumi’s birthday is coming up soon, no? We should get him something nice.”

“Hmm? Oh right, the 22nd is coming up,” Satoru hums thoughtfully, leading you inside the store. There, the two of you split up to look for a nice gift for Megumi. There, he is approached by a staff member who asks if he’s looking for anything in particular. Satoru clears his throat, nodding. “I’m looking to buy a gift for my son.”

Somehow, you heard that from across the store and you shoot Satoru an amused look when he refers to Megumi as ‘his son’.

“Right, and how old might he be? We have a batch of new arrivals that came in today. They’re perfect for kids aged four and above.” At that, you rejoin Satoru and the sales staff leads you to check out the items at the front of the store. You and Satoru sort through the rack and find one that the two of you agree on: a fleece two-toned gravel winter jacket.

After paying for it, the two of you rush to get to Ebisu elementary school. Making your way to the gate, Megumi instantly spots you and Satoru, the latter being very difficult to miss since he pretty much towered over everyone else.

“Hi, kid, d’you have fun today?” you crouch down to give Megumi a hug. Between you and Satoru, you were the more clingy one towards Megumi, there’s hardly any hesitation in your heart when you pull him in for a warm embrace or carry him in your arms. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind one bit, but if Satoru did any of the those things to him, he’ll probably headbut him.

“It was fine,” Megumi says shyly once you pull away. “Oh and I got a hundred on the math homework you helped me with.”

“You did?” you smiled. “I’m so proud of you, Megumi.” Satoru smiles, going to ruffle Megumi’s hair only for the little boy to duck away from his hand and hide behind you.

Chuckling at the kid’s antics, Satoru concedes, putting up his free hand in surrender while his other one held onto the gift bag you got. Megumi reads the name of the store: “The North Face”. Following Megumi’s gaze, Satoru grins, handing Megumi the bag. “Here, we got you something. Call it an advanced birthday gift.”

Megumi’s expression screamed: “You didn’t have to.” but you don’t miss the look of surprise and gratitude that shined through his features. You gently nudge him to open it and his breath hitches in his throat when he sees the gift you got him — the first gift he’s ever received.

“Happy birthday, Megumi,” you and Satoru greet the little boy, with Satoru helping Megumi to try it on.

That was the first time Megumi initiated a heartfelt hug and the first time he ever included Satoru, his little arms trying their hardest to include the two of you, so you decide to help him out, and your and Satoru’s arms engulf the little one.

“Thank you.”

“I don’t know what happened, but I’m headed there now. Alright, see you soon. I love you.”

Everything happened so quickly. One minute you were in Tokyo Jujutsu High’s teacher lounge organizing the first years’ missions for the next few days when you receive a call from Ebisu elementary school, informing you that Megumi got into a horrible fight and was now in the school clinic ready to be picked up, the next you were dashing out the door hurrying over to the school with your heart pounding in your chest.

There, you are the quintessential picture of a frazzled mother looking for her son in the school clinic.

“Y/N!”

“Megumi,” you breathed, your eyebrows knitting together in worry. Gathering him into your arms, you sit on the tiny hospital bed. “What happened? They said you got into a fight? And where’s your jacket?” He was wearing the jacket you got for him this morning when you and Satoru dropped him off, actually, he’s been wearing it a lot, indicating it’s one of, if not his favorite jacket.

Before Megumi could even speak, it looks like the kid that he got into a tussle with had already tattled on him to his mother and now said mother is furiously berating you and Megumi, not caring if anyone else in the clinic could overhear the scandalous remarks she’s throwing your way.

“I want full disciplinary action against this boy!” the middle aged woman all but screeches to the school’s principal, pointing an accusatory finger at Megumi who doesn’t flinch but you hear him sniffle. He’s never been yelled at like that before.

“Ma’am, please, let’s settle this like two rational adults—“

“—Oh I will, I can’t say the same about you! Are you not the least bit ashamed that you couldn’t teach your son good morals?” She then theatrically goes to place her hands on her son’s shoulders. And you have to be honest, with that bruised lip of his alongside his bleeding nose, Megumi had done some serious damage to the boy.

“I — Megumi is a good kid, not once, have we ever seen him hit someone for no reason—“

“—So you’re saying it’s my son’s fault yours is emotionally unstable? This boy doesn’t need a good talking to, what he needs is psychological intervention!”

“Alright, can everyone just please calm down?” The principal, too, seems visibly uncomfortable with the vile words the other parent was spewing at you like machine gun fire. “We’re all here to fix the problem, not make it worse.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you could tell this conversation has reached an impasse. Clearly, there’s no way you could reach a mutual understanding of what should be done to resolve the issue.

The older woman looks at you in disdain, grumbling under her breath at the humiliation of being scolded, “What should I even expect from an irresponsible woman who got knocked up before she was even an adult?”

“Don’t you dare talk about my wife or my son that way.”

Megumi looks up, tears in his eyes when Satoru strides in, his normally shining blue eyes dark with a fury that cannot be quelled. You can’t even feel the butterflies that went wild in your stomach when he accidentally referred to you as ‘his wife’ without so much as a stutter because you’re honestly this close to chewing the vile woman out. It didn’t matter if she insulted you, but if she does so much as insult and make your boy cry, you and Satoru will give the weasel a matching patch on her scalp where there should have been hair had you not ripped it out.

But now was not the time to prove her right.

People have always judged you and Satoru for being acting parents at such a young age, often giving you rude stares when you’re out and about doing the most menial of things like shopping at the supermarket or spending some time in the kōen, people found your current situation disgusting, borderline immoral, which is why you initially had trouble looking for an elementary school that would properly entertain you, Satoru and Megumi and not dismiss you three as a bunch of kids playing house.

“Satoru…” you rub your boyfriend’s arm soothingly.

“Babe, she insulted you and ‘Gumi,” Satoru whispers sadly. “I can’t just let her do that.”

All of a sudden, Megumi’s voice cuts through the tension in the room. “Daisuke was being mean. He ruined Hana-chan’s project and made her cry.” At that, the kid named Daisuke bites his lip, his skin turning pallid at the revelation. “And when I told him to apologize, he and Kaito…” Megumi whimpers, trailing off. He averts his gaze from your and Satoru’s, feeling guilty.

And right then and there, the story becomes even clearer when an unexpected witness comes to Megumi’s defense.

“Megumi-kun? We found your jacket, it’s not too damaged, but you may want to have your mama and papa wash it when you get home.” The school nurse walks in and hands you the ruined jacket, it had been cut all over but since it’s fleece, the damage isn’t too bad, not only that, it had crayon marks all over it and it smelled of the dumpster.

“…Daisuke and Kaito ruined my jacket and I punched him,” Megumi sniffles. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t apologizing for punching Daisuke, that much you could tell, he was apologizing to you and Gojo for supposedly not taking care of the gift you two got him just last week.

The vile mother scoffs at your son’s apology. “Save your breath, you little liar—“

“—He wasn’t talking to you,” Satoru glares at the woman, effectively shutting her up. “Come on, we’re going home.” With that, Satoru, being careful with him given his sprained wrist, carries Megumi out the clinic. You offer the principal a polite nod, indicating that you’ll cooperate with any sanction she seems fit for Megumi, Kaito and Daisuke, before following Satoru and Megumi to the parking lot. A melancholic smile appears on your lips when you hear Satoru reassuring Megumi that you’ll just wash and mend the jacket once you get home to which, Megumi only buries his face in the crook of his father figure’s neck.

If there is one good thing that happened today, it’s the fact that you proved to yourself and to each other that, no one in this world is allowed to hurt or insult your family.

Satoru wakes up to an empty bed and he doesn’t pretend to wonder where you are. He stays like that for a full minute, simply staring at the ceiling while your side of the bed slowly loses its warmth. He knows you’re hurting, and he knows just how much this entire ordeal has taken from you. First, you had to deal with him being sealed in the Prison Realm, now this…

You really just couldn’t catch a break, could you?

Slowly, Satoru gets up and pads across the hallway, entering a painfully familiar room. The owner of the room has only since recently moved out, but for ten years, this room is one he normally frequented with you, whether it be on Christmas mornings to greet the little prince that occupied such a special place in your heart or on nights when the three of you just simply needed to hold each other, searching for comfort, while you slept.

The door creaks open and Satoru’s eyes well up with tears, his heart plagued by the same emotional turmoil that was haunting you day in and day out. “I just want our boy to come home…I want our son back,” you cried as you held the jacket Megumi had outgrown, the same one he wore almost everyday that winter when he first came to live with you and Satoru.

Instantly, Satoru sits next to you on Megumi’s bed, hushing your cries, kissing away each agonizing tear that slipped from the confines of your sorrowful orbs.

“He must be so scared,” you sniffled, picturing Megumi in the darkest crevices of Sukuna’s soul, trapped and alone. “I don’t even know if he’s alright, if he’s even slept at all or if he’s being tormented by Sukuna day in and day out. What if he’s in pain? What if he’s cold?” you sobbed into your husband’s chest, your cries growing more desperate with each hour Megumi isn’t home safe.

“Shh, shh…I know, sweetheart…I’ll get him back, I promise I’ll bring him home.”

Or he’ll die trying.

Somewhere in the void, Megumi Fushiguro is in a state of catatonic stasis. Is this what limbo feels like? He just wants to sleep, to give in and let Sukuna’s soul consume him.

It’s so cold…so…cold.

No! He can’t give up, more than his desire to tap out and just live and let die…he wants to go home where he belongs.

You and Satoru must be so worried about him and he was worried too, what if something had happened out there while he was here? What if…something happened to the two of you when he hasn’t even done a thing to thank you both for all the love you’ve given him throughout these years? So with his last inch of consciousness remaining, he spends it on a silent plea.

“Mom…dad…please come find me.”

[lynk-zee]

hey lynnie,

Ok so there's this tweet "(my gf can) dress slutty I can fight" by a guy right. I don't necessarily think he means dress slutty on purpose but like if his gf wants to express her fashion in a more sensual way, he supports and defends her right to do so. Could you do a scenario where MC/reader know she looks good and flaunts it and the lads don't mind? They're also willing to step in and remind any entitled creep to stay in their place. I'm really curious to see Rafayel's thoughts on this but all would be great.

“Dress Slutty, I Can Fight.”

Rafayel always wants you to feel good about yourself. He’ll buy you lavish jewelry, designer clothes, and ask you to give him a fashion show so he can see them on you. That being said, fashionable clothes sometimes is less about the type of fabric and more about the lack there of. And he’s here for it! He walks with you on his arm with pride, wearing whatever you want, flaunting your assets, and strutting your stuff. He thinks you’re gorgeous, like a work of art! And art is meant to be admired.

Though, when it comes to creeps checking you out longer than appropriate, he gets a bit protective. If he notices someone checking out your ass in that skimpy little outfit of yours, he cop a squeeze, smirking right at the perp. As if saying “look what I have that you don’t”

If his glare doesn’t deter the creep from looking at you, Rafayel will call him out in front of everyone.

“Do you mind? I know my partners hot as fuck but keep your eyes to yourself, damn!”

Usually it doesn’t escalate from there, the perp feeling thoroughly embarrassed from being called out like that in public. But if it does, Rafayel will handle it.

“It’s okay, babe. I can fight”

Zayne absolutely loves spoiling you with the money he makes as a surgeon. Which mostly consists of clothes! Whatever you want, just point and he’ll get you it every color. Absolutely loves when you dress however you want. His main goal in life is for you to live as comfortably as possible. So if looking all dolled up in pretty makes you happy, go for it!

When you’re dressed up, he’d always have his hand on the small of your back, guiding you this way and that under his careful watch. He’s gotta keep his baby safe. If someone is staring at you for two long, they’d be frozen solid by Zayne’s evol.

Just kidding. More like frozen solid by his icy glare. Much like Rafayel, Zayne would make it public because he knows that most people will get intimidated by a large crowd.

“Could you not stare at my partner? We are trying to enjoy our night out.”

If the creeps too persistent, he’ll clench his jaw and place his jacket on you.

“Sorry, dear— could you give me a moment? That man over there seems like he wants to talk.”

Zaddy

In all seriousness, Zayne really wouldn’t resort to violence because he has standards to uphold. But he definitely would stand his ground and tell the creep off. Your comfort is his utmost priority. He won’t let some filth make you feel self-conscious.

Xavier’s all for your slutty era. You look beautiful, he’s enjoying the view, it’s a win-win in his books. What he doesn’t enjoy is the amount of unwanted attention you garner when you dress up. Yes, it’s not your fault that you’re beautiful, he would never fault you for that. He’s just sick of the guys staring as if they have the right to. Absolutely not.

So, he marks the shit out of you. Your neck is covered in hickeys, branding you as his. They can look all they want, but with his arm around your waist and his marks on your neck, you’re his and his only. Wear less, he doesn’t care. He’ll just make sure his hand print on your ass peaks out from under your shorts.

If it gets too bad, we know Xavier would step in right away to stop it. He’s pretty blunt without meaning to, so when it’s intentional—sorry to any guy who even breathes in your direction. Sometimes you have to step in though because you know it’s game over if Xavier swings. But Xav will always protect you, so dress however you want. He just wants you to be happy.

“Ignore those creeps, my love. I’ll take care of it.

[msschemmenti]

emergency contacts 📞

jemily x reader

a/n: life imitates art or whatever oscar wilde said :)

it really wasn’t that bad when she looked at it. but the blaring alarm from her phone was not helping the situation at all right now. y/n maneuvered her car out of the lane and onto the shoulder to put the car in park. it was 8:47 pm, dark as hell, in the middle of one of the busiest highways and of course she gets in a wreck. not her fault, but still very inconvenient. as she got out of the car she gazed around the passing cars and sighed at the sight of the car that had hit her.

the teen had come stumbling out of the car in a panic. apologizing profusely. and y/n could see, she needed to be the calm adult in this situation. the girls car was most definitely totaled and with the incident towing on their way, y/n couldn’t let the girl wait outside alone. so now they sat in her damaged rental on the side of the road waiting for all the appropriate officers to arrive. y/n had lent the young girl her phone to call her parents and once she’d returned it she was a little shocked to see the amount of notifications she had flooding her phone.

35 missed calls

20 messages sent in lovers <3

what the hell? y/n squinted as she unlocked her phone. what could possibly be going on right now. y/n went to open her text chain when her phone started ringing again— this time garcia.

“garcia? what is going on?” y/n asked feeling a low panic course through her. the team was in office and everyone should’ve been at home so something happening to her girlfriends was an extreme she wasn’t ready to entertain.

“are you okay? are you hurt? i’m pinging your location and it looks like you’re on the side of the road. i also see that emergency services have not been dispatched to the area yet. what is going on? your girlfriends are fre-eaking out right now. why haven’t you been answering your phone? are you okay?!”

“woman, slow down! what are you talking about? why are you pinging me right now?” y/n broke through garcia’s ramblings.

“angel, the girls got an emergency alert about you being in a car accident and when you didn’t answer the phone they called me demanding i find you.”

y/n pulled the phone away from her ear in disbelief, “they got a notification? since when was that a thing—“

“hey hey, focus! what happened? and quickly before jj and emily put a bounty on my head.”

“right right, a girl rear-ended me on the highway. i’m fine, i’ll probably be a little sore but nothing i can’t handle. we’re waiting for local pd to get here now.” y/n answered easily.

“oh thank god you’re okay. i need you to call them back now and let them know because im kinda scared of jj when she gets like this.” garcia urged before bidding the younger woman goodbye.

the phone barely rang once before jj’s voice filtered down the line. “baby? are you okay?” the panic was oh so clear in her voice and when y/n her call through the apartment for emily she frowned at the stress this whole thing had caused her girlfriends.

“jay, i’m fine. i got rear-ended on the highway—“ y/n attempted to soothe but the mention of the minor accident seemed to only egg the women on.

“rear-ended on the highway? are you getting checked out?” emily’s voice interrupted.

“no, i’m fine. not even a headache.” y/n tried to excuse.

a rather frustrated groan left both jj and emily’s throats and y/n knew they weren’t having it. “try again.” jj spoke first.

“i am fine. i don’t need to be check out, id just be wasting resources for people who actually need to be tended to.”

“nope, you know better than to try that shit with us. i want you thoroughly checked out before tomorrow.” emily all but growled.

“i don’t think this is fair. you literally just told me about the time you were shot at and you didn’t go to the hospital. you wouldn’t even sit in the back of the ambulance.” y/n rebuffed.

jj seeming to have calmed a bit snorted at their girlfriend’s words, “i bet you’re regretting telling that story now.”

“shut up jj.” emily grumbled.

“listen, i know you’re a little shaken up by the notification. and i know it’s not very helpful that im traveling for work and you can’t physically be with me but i need you guys not to freak out okay?” y/n pleaded quietly down the phone.

both jj and emily sighed before agreeing, “at least stay on the line with us until you get everything squared away with local pd?” jj suggested.

“of course, baby. anything for my emergency contacts.” y/n appeased.

“is that why we got the notification? i had no clue phones did that…wait we’re your emergency contacts? since when?” emily rambled.

“i don’t know, you remember i had that allergic reaction last month? both of you were gone but i knew you two were the first i wanted to know if anything happened to me. you don’t mind do you?” y/n asked self-consciously.

“no not at all baby, we love it.” jj soothed.

“yeah keep it that way.” emily affirmed.

“yes ma’am.” y/n spoke softly down the phone.

[miley1442111]

stalker- s.reid

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: spencer saves you.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: general criminal minds topics, gore and brief descriptions of harm, mutual pining, heavy topics, stalking, reader if from Texas

Spencer sat at his desk, a less than pleasant expression on his face. His glasses had slid down his nose, his usually perfectly gelled hair was messy, and a frown played at his lips. 

“If you stare any longer you’re going to end up with your face stuck like that,” Jj joked as she placed herself in his eyeline. Spencer’s frown deepened and Jj chuckled. “Come on, we have a case.”

Spencer got up, falling into stride with you as you left your desk, hanging up the phone.

“Who were you talking to?” He asked, trying to make small talk. You were new to the team, an old contractor Strauss had hand-picked, you were smart (smarter than him), beautiful, and you were so polite and dutiful that Spencer couldn’t tell if you were actually his friend. You just had an air of coolness that seemed so unreachable for Spencer. You and Derek had worked together in Chicago, you two made sense as friends, Penelope, Emily, Jj, and you all got along well, that made sense. David and you had a shared love of cooking, something SPencer couldn’t even begin to understand. You even made Aaron laugh on the worst of days with some witty comment or sarcastic joke. 

Had Derek just asked you to befriend Spencer for the team's sake? Why would you be interested in him? It made no sense.

You smiled. “My friend from home.”

“Where are you from?” He asked as you two sat in the conference room, Aaron shot you two a look that Spencer clearly didn’t see so you didn’t answer. 

“Tell you later,” you whispered as the briefing began. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking into the sweltering heat of Texas from the lovely air-conditioned plane was quite the shock to the body. 

“Fuck it’s hot,” you sighed, pulling off your hoodie to reveal a tight black top beneath. Yes, it was work-appropriate and completely within regulations, but Spencer’s eyes all but popped out of his head like he was in one of those cartoons. 

“You’re drooling,” Derek joked from beside him, pretending to wipe his chin. Spencer pushed his hands away with a shy smile, trying to recover from his embarrassing moment. 

“Ok, Spencer and Derek you two go to the latest crime scene, Y/n, Jj and I will go to the precinct, David and Emily you two will go talk to the deceased family,” Aaron gave out jobs. “Oh and Y/n, I want you with someone at all times, this unSub is going after women with your exact description and our team is a definite hit for him. He’s made contact with the police asking specifically for you and me,” Aaron explained. 

You all dispersed into your separate cars and began working the case. The precinct was full of slimy cops who all promised to ‘protect you’, just not from themselves.

“We want you to wear this,” Jj handed you a bulletproof vest and you rolled your eyes. 

“Seriously? I’m not a porcelain doll, I can handle myself-” You tried to reason with them but the look on Aaron’s face made you stop. He, himself, was wearing one too. “Fine.”

“Good,” Jj smiled. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spencer was worrying himself sick at the crime scene, rambling about all the ways the unSub could get to you and how you shouldn’t even be in the state.

“Spencer!” Derek exclaimed. “Go to your girlfriend, send Jj back after you. You’re no help when you’re like this.”

Spencer didn’t take kindly to the small jest, but he didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed the keys and drove down to the precinct, finding Jj immediately and making up a poorly executed lie about feeling sick. She saw right through him.

“Hope you feel better Spence,” she smirked. “Y/n is with Hotch interviewing a suspect here,” she pointed it out on a map. “See you later.”

After grabbing the keys to Emily and David’s vehicle (they’d just come back from the crime scene) and driving there, anxiety ran through him as he found the door to the farmhouse open. He turned the corner, finding three figures. One was on the floor, shouting in agony, the other was standing, hands above their head. The third was holding a gun.

He turned back, dialling Derek’s number. 

“We need back-up, we’re at 34 Terrace Avenue! Agent down!” He spoke quietly into his phone. 

“We’re on the way kid, don’t go in without back-up,” Derek told him. Spencer didn’t respond. “Spencer?”

“She’s dying,” he reasoned and hung up, walking in. “FBI! Put your weapons down!” 

The unSub, Mitchell O’Hara had been obsessed with you since high school, you’d rejected him in senior year when he’d asked you to the prom since you already had plans with friends. All over the farmhouse, there were photos of you from every stage of your life. Childhood to teenage years, to college years, to your various positions before joining the BAU just a few months ago, including your CIA and covert Ops positions. 

Spencer could see you on the ground, multiple knife wounds in your exposed torso, he’d made you take off your vest, Spencer thought. You groaned in pain on the floor. “Spencer?” You asked hazily. Spencer kept his gun trained on Mitchell. 

“Yeah?” He was stalling, waiting for Aaron to get his own gun or for back-up to arrive. 

“Good,” you were slipping out of consciousness. “I’ve always liked you,” you smiled hazily. Spencer would be elated at those words if the circumstances were different. 

“This is your dream guy Y/n?!” Mitchell shouted. “Him?!” 

“He’s nice,” you managed. “He’s funny.”

“I’m nice! I’m funny!” Mitchell screamed. 

“You’re not Spencer,” you mumbled as everything went dark. 

SWAT suddenly filled the room and Spencer ran to you, trying to stop the bleeding. Thank god Derek had ordered for an ambulance to follow them to the scene.

As Aaron cuffed Mitchell, Spencer went with you in the ambulance. He watched as they attempted to treat your wounds, needing to cut open your shirt. Spencer was shocked to find what looked like 50 different scars. Some from bullets, others knives, others things he couldn’t name. He knew you’d been in the CIA and on a Cover Ops team, he never thought you would’ve been hurt this many times and still have the strength to go on. The ambulance pulled up to the hospital and you were brought straight into emergency surgery. 

He waited for hours there just pacing, nervously biting at his nails, or attempting to sit there as no one told him a thing. He lied, saying he was your boyfriend. Technically it wasn’t a lie, you liked him, he liked you. He just hadn’t asked. 

“Dr. Reid?” A nurse called out. He stood immediately. “She’s stable and should be waking up soon, you can see her.”

Spencer nodded a ‘thanks’ her way and entered your hospital room. 

You were alive. You were here. You were awake. 

You smiled at him. “Hey.”

Your voice was hoarse, tired from the shouting you’d done. 

“Hi.”

“Thanks for saving me Spencer,” you smiled. “And about what I said… if you don’t feel the same I’d totally get it. I just thought I was… y’know dying so…”

Spencer shook his head and smiled. “I like you a lot too.”

You grinned. “Good.”

He leaned down, a sudden surge of confidence ran through him and he kissed you softly.

“I’m from Texas by the way,” you smiled against his lips. 

“I actually guessed that, yeah,” he joked, making you laugh. God, he loved your laugh. 

He loved you. He just wouldn’t tell you that yet.

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

criminal minds masterlist :)