#this is the only match i watched and i fell asleep before it even ended sdfgfdszdfghjhgfdsfghjkhgfdgh

[roastedoatmilk]

Brown Eyed Lover

Salaryman! Kento Nanami x Fem! Reader

tags: oral sex (both ways), nipple play, PIV, body worship, praise kink, nanami and reader being sappy as fuck and in love with each other

word count: 5.5k

summary: You give Salaryman Nanami all of the love and attention he deserves

A/N this fic is already posted on ao3 here also this was very briefly proofread so if there's any spelling or grammar mistakes I apologize.

You were sitting on the couch reading when you heard the keys turning in the door, not bothering to look up from your book when the door opened knowing that it could only be one person. This has been the routine every day for the last five years. He'd come home at exactly 7:00 pm not a minute later, he’d take off his shoes and jacket then loosen his tie before making his way to find you wherever you may be at. 

“How was work Darling ?” You ask while turning to the next page of your book. You hear him sigh before you feel the weight of him on your thighs. Looking down you’re met with the sight of your fiancee lying face up in your lap, his blond hair had managed to break free from the gel you had watched him put in this morning. His warm brown eyes peered up at you as if you were the center of his universe. He frowns a bit before answering;

“Same as always I’m afraid, however I did talk to my boss about that promotion I was telling you about and it seems like I’ll end up getting it soon.” He sighs once more before closing his eyes, snuggling his head into the inside of your thigh. You could tell that his job was taking a toll on him. The bags under his eyes seemed to be more pronounced as of late due to lack of sleep. Kento works himself to the bone and comes home to you utterly exhausted. Most days he ends up falling asleep the second his head hits the pillow. Slowly your fingers make their way to his head finding their home in his light blond strands breaking up the remaining gel holding his hair together.

He lets out a groan of relief when he feels your fingers in his hair like he had been waiting all day for this exact moment, his eyelids fluttering when your fingers come across a particularly tender spot. Your fingers stop to also massage his scalp as you make your way around his head. You can feel him relaxing more and more as you continue massaging his scalp all of the day’s stress and tension leaving his body as your skilled fingers work their magic. Before long you slow down your movements as his breathing evens out. As your fingers come to a stop one of his honey colored eyes peaks open looking right up at you.

“Why’d you stop ?” Kento whispers with an uncharacteristic pout dawning his freckled face. The look reminds you of a child who was told they couldn’t have candy before dinner. You chuckle a bit at the man looking down at him with a heart so full of love you’re certain he can see it in your eyes. 

“You looked so relaxed I thought you fell asleep, it wouldn’t be the first time you fell asleep while I did this” You say with a grin on your face thinking back to all of the other times he had fallen asleep in your lap. The man in question slowly opened his other eye looking up at you fully with a matching grin on his freckled face.

“I’m very much awake, I can assure you of that.” Kento says, shifting slightly a small frown on his face as he does so. Almost as if he was trying to find the most comfortable position he could without moving from your lap.

“Are you okay Darling? You look a bit uncomfortable.”  You asked the tall man in your lap running your fingers through his hair. He let out a small sigh once again slightly shifting his long limbs contorting to fit onto the small sofa. 

“Mmmm no I’m alright don’t worry yourself Love.” He mumbles in a tone you recognize all too well trying to ignore the heat pooling between his legs. Humming you continue to run your fingers through his hair dozing off until you again feel the man on your lap slightly shift his position. Pausing your finger’s movements you look down at your lover again. 

“Kento you know that if you’re uncomfortable you can say so we can always move to somewhere that has more space if that’s what you’d like.” You whisper to the man a small smirk on your face. The blond looked back up at you and a flush of red appeared on his face upon seeing the look on yours. 

“ I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” He mutters, shifting his eyes away from you and instead focusing on the wooden coffee table in the center of the room. You chuckle, only Kento Nanami would try and downplay his own discomfort because he didn’t want to ‘make a big deal out of it’. You lightly removed his head from your lap before standing up stretching out your own limbs. Looking down at your fiancee you hold out your hand to him.

“C’mon big guy up we go.” You tell the taller man who now has another uncharacteristic pout on his face begrudgingly taking your hand letting you pull him up off the sofa. The blond stretched his limbs for the first time in what must’ve been an hour or two. You yourself get your first full look of him since he had left in the morning, eyes scanning your lover’s body before landing on what you assume was the leading cause of his discomfort. Kento watches as your eyes slowly widen an infectious grin covering your face. 

“Kento William, is there something you’d like to tell me?”  You teasingly ask the man. His face and ears now bright red, eyes looking everywhere other than at you. 

“Well you see I-” The tall blond stumbles over his words trying to form a sentence. Your giggles now filling the room as you watch the love of your life try to explain why he got hard from you massaging his scalp.

“Alright Loverboy lets go.” You say with a smile grabbing his hand and having him follow you to the bedroom, his freckled face beet red as he lets you lead him. 

Once the two of you had crossed the threshold of your bedroom you let go of his hand and walked to the other side of the room turning to look at your lover. A stupid lovesick grin decorating both of your faces, you loved everything about him and treasured the softer moments like this. The two of you raking your eyes over the other’s figure before you crooked your finger at him beckoning him over to you. The blond made his way over to you stopping right before your bodies touched, you reached both of your arms to cup both of his cheeks in your hands rubbing your thumbs over the sharp lines of his face.

“ Let me take care of you tonight okay ?” You say softly looking into his tired eyes. He nods his head as much as he could with your hands cupping his face, a soft smile once again crawling its way onto his face.

 Leaning his head down to press a soft kiss to your lips barely even a brush of the lips before pulling back and looking at you waiting for your next move. You remove your hands from his face taking a step back to put some space between the two of you before your hands go to where his tie is sitting loosened on his neck tugging it up and over his head then you move to carefully lay it on top of your shared dresser. Making your way back to the taller man before moving your hands to where his white button up is tucked into his work slacks slightly tugging on it looking at him to make sure it was okay to go ahead and untuck it. The blond smiles before verbally giving you the go ahead.  

You press your lips to his again eveloping his mouth with your own as you slowly untuck the white fabric from his pants, once it is untucked you remove your mouth from his and move your way up to the top button unfastening it before moving onto the next. After each button was undone you planted a kiss onto the newly exposed skin taking your time unfastening them. Once all of the buttons were undone you reached your hands under the shirt running your fingers over his skin moving up to his shoulders helping him shrug the fabric off. After his shirt is removed you remove your own shirt, folding the two of them before moving to lay it with his tie, turning back to the tall blond you admire his exposed torso which had softened over the years. 

After making your way back over to him you press a kiss on his heavily freckled shoulder, your hands moving to fiddle with his belt buckle. Once again looking at him waiting for his permission to continue on he quickly gives it to you, his eyes slightly hazy. You then begin to unbuckle his belt, your breasts pushing into his chest as you work on removing the piece of leather from around his waist. When you’re finished removing the belt you move your hands down to the button of his pants before you can even look at him to ask he covers your hands with his own helping you unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper. He then shimmies his slacks down and off his legs leaving them in a pile on the floor. He quickly moves his hands to cup your face looking you in the eyes before saying “My Love as much as I adore that you’re wanting to take care of me and take your time if you don’t hurry up a bit I’m afraid I won’t last very long” 

You giggle as you remove your own pants, the two of you then standing in only your undergarments. Kento laughs in return, slipping his briefs down his legs putting them onto where he put his slacks. You hook your thumbs under the waistband of your panties slipping them down your hips and onto the floor, the two of you finally standing there naked. You can hear Kento’s breath hitch in his throat at the sight of your bare body, you can feel yourself grow warm at the fact that even after all this time he’s still in awe of you. You take your time trailing your eyes over every inch of his body admiring the wonderful man that you get to call yours. 

“You’re so beautiful Kento, I really mean that.” You say in disbelief as if you hadn’t seen him naked numerous times before. The man before you blushing even harder as his breath hitches. 

“Go lay on the bed baby, let me worship you.” You purr your eyes heavily lidded. The man momentarily looks at you in awe before he follows your instructions laying on your shared bed, his head propped up on the headboard with pillows. His entire upper chest, neck, and face is a bright red paired with the way his pupils are blown sends a pang of heat between your thighs, you can feel yourself grow wetter the longer you look at him. 

Making your way to the bed admiring the man before you, lifting your leg to throw it over his waist straddling yourself on his tummy. You can feel his skin immediately start to dampen from the immense slick between your thighs, he groans his head falling back as he feels it soaking his skin. You take that as your cue to start pressing kisses onto his neck, stopping every couple kisses to suck a dark spot onto his skin before moving your way down to his collarbones nipping at the thin skin there. 

Once you’re satisfied with decorating his neck in love bites you trail one of your hands to his nipple, tweaking it between your thumb and pointer finger as you lower your mouth to the other one slowly closing your lips around it and sucking. Kento lets out a guttural groan at the wet sensation of your mouth on him, his eyes squeezed shut. You giggle around his nipple which makes him groan even louder, before switching to his other one moving your free hand to tweak the wet nub. Taking your time on his chest giving each of his nipples equal attention before letting his nipple go with a lewd pop looking up at his blissed out face.

“How’re you feeling, handsome?” You say your voice heavy with lust. Kento slowly opens his eyes to look at you, his brown eyes now almost completely black. 

“Incredible.” Was the only word he could utter before his eyes slipped shut again and he leaned his head back. You let out a chuckle before moving to kiss your way down his torso stopping just before the patch of dark blond hair above his cock. Looking up at him once again you then move to nuzzle your nose into the patch of hair briefly before slinking even lower to where his thick cock lies in all of its glory. 

Looking him in the eye you stick out your tongue and kitten lick the tip reveling in the salty taste of his precum, Kento lets out a low groan at the feeling of your tongue on him. You give the tip a couple more licks before pressing wet kisses along his shaft, the groans the blond man was letting out only fueling the fire you felt burning in your core. You make your way to the very prominent vein along the side of it, taking the tip of your tongue and lightly tracing the shape of it. Kento lets out a choked moan before he reaches a hand down and pushes your hair out of your eyes before resting it on the top of your head. He can never get over just how good your mouth on his cock feels, the warmth and wetness of your mouth paired with the downright sinful look in your eyes as you suck him always makes his body feel like it's on fire.

The feeling of his hand on your head only spurs you on prompting you to move your way back up to his tip and carefully taking it in your mouth. You start gently sucking on the tip, being sure to mind your teeth before slowly moving your mouth down, taking more of him, letting the weight of him sit on your tongue for a second then moving your head back up until you have the tip resting on your lips. You smile when you hear the small whine your lover lets out at the feeling of the cool air hitting his slightly wet cock, pressing a kiss to the tip you take him back into your mouth until you feel him hit the back of your throat. You gag slightly, removing him from your mouth once again giving yourself a moment to breathe. 

“Are you alright?” Kento asks softly, sitting up and pushing your hair out of your face so you can see him. You nod your head and let out a hoarse “Yeah.” before sucking in a couple deep breaths. 

After a moment you slowly make your way back to him once again taking his cock in your mouth and gently sucking on it, Kento sighs with pleasure and leans back against the pillows. You begin to lightly bob your head up and down making sure to pay extra attention to the tip as you come up. The taste of him hits your tongue once again making your eyes roll to the back of your head at the salty sweet flavor of him. After you get about half way down you suddenly pull back up to spit in your hand before taking him back into your mouth, you wrap your hand around the rest of him that you can’t reach with your mouth and slowly start stroking him. The added stimulation makes the blond man let out his loudest groan of the night, running his fingers through his own hair. 

“Your mouth feels so good wrapped around me fuck” He growls, his head thrown back digging his head into the pillows.

The sight of this powerful man's head thrown back in ecstasy back arching off of the sheets blond hair, a mess from him constantly running his fingers through it makes even more heat well in your core, you can feel your arousal trickle down your thigh. Your clit hard and twitching begging for stimulation.

You find a rhythm of bobbing your head until it reaches the top of where your hand is stroking him, the speed staying constant until you can feel his muscles start to clench and his groans growing louder and louder. You can tell that he’s getting close by the way that his hands are gripping the sheets so you pick up the pace a bit, speeding up your strokes and bobbing your head faster. It's not until you feel him sit up and grab onto the hand wrapped around his cock that you stop and look at him. He grabs ahold of your chin lifting your head up and off of him a thin trail of spit connecting your mouth to his cock. 

“Is everything okay?” You rasped, afraid that you had done something he didn't like. He shook his head with a chuckle.

“Everything’s fine, I just don’t want to cum so quickly,” Kento replies with a grin on his face, “Besides I’ve been wanting to taste you all day.” The blond man continues his voice huskier than before. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open slightly, it never fails to amaze you just how much this man loves being between your thighs. Before you could even get the words out of your mouth he had managed to flip your positions to where you were now, the one on your back with him hovering over you holding himself up with his arms. 

“Kento!” You squeal, a giggle bubbling up from your throat.

The man chuckles before leaning his head down to kiss you, settling his top lip over yours. A small cry escapes your throat at the feeling of his lips against yours. You reach your hands up to tangle your fingers into his now free golden locks. You could never get enough of kissing him. There was just something about the way he tastes that drives you insane, whether it was the lingering taste of the tea he drank while at work or the minty taste of the breath mint he more than likely popped in his mouth on the way home. You just couldn’t get enough of it, running your tongue along his bottom lip asking for entrance. He opened his mouth and you moaned at the taste of him hitting your tongue. You tangled your tongue with his as your fingers gripped onto his hair causing him to let out a whine. You smiled at this loving how much of a hold you have on this 6 '0 tall hunk of a man. He pulled his lips away from yours, a trail of spit still connecting the two of you. He pushed himself back up onto his forearms once again hovering over you with a matching smile of his own on his face.

“Now I do believe there was something that I said I was going to do,” He whispers to you, his eyes heavily lidded. You loved seeing him like this, his eyes dark, the lewd smirk on his face, the delicious red flush all over his body leading directly down to his cock, the tip leaking with so much precum that it was spilling down the sides of his shaft. Your breath catches in your throat a whine making its way out. Kento smiles before slinking his way down your body stopping at your breasts, he grabs ahold of one with his hand kneading it softly.

“God I love these so much.” He says before leaning his head down and taking your unoccupied nipple into his mouth rolling it with his tongue. You wail at the feeling of his hot mouth on your sensitive nipple, your back arching pushing your chest farther into his face. He moves his hand on your other breast down your stomach right to the small patch of hair resting between your thighs. You had asked the blond when he first started dating if he minded it and he gave you a deadpan look and said “Why would I care it's your body, a bit of hair isn’t going to scare me off”. After that you never brought it up again feeling comfortable with his answer.

He slides one of his fingers between your folds gathering your slick before bringing his finger to  his mouth placing it directly on his tongue. He let out a groan when the taste of you hits him, his eyes falling closed as he savors the taste, licking his finger clean before removing it from his mouth. 

“You’re by far the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. I can never get enough of you.” His voice low as he says this to you. He then moves even farther down your body until he’s face to face with your pussy, glistening in the yellow light of your room. 

Kento wraps both of his arms around your thighs keeping them open enough for him to fit between them, he looks back up at you from between your legs a wicked grin on his face before he licks a broad strip from your hole up to your twitching clit. You let out a sob at the feeling, heat shooting throughout your entire body, your back arching off of the bed as your hand flies to grab his hair.

 The blond man chuckles at this which causes you to whine due to the vibration of it directly hitting your core. The sight of you back arched, head thrown back with your mouth agape was one of his favorite sights. 

He once again dives his tongue into the mess of arousal present between your legs, his arms pulling you closer to his face until his nose is directly against your clit. He sighed as he felt the taste of you spreading over his tongue, it was warm and a bit salty but to him it was his favorite taste in the world. He begins to eat you as if it’s his last night on earth and your pussy is his final meal. You felt like you were floating every single one of your nerves set on fire, your moans growing louder and louder as he continued. Removing his mouth causing a whine to come out of your own he takes his middle finger and carefully caresses your hole with it teasing you. Pressing the tip of it inside and then quickly removing it causes you to mewl and grip his hair even tighter to the point where you're surprised it isn't hurting him. 

“Kento please don't tease me.” You whimpered tilting up your hips to try and seek some sort of friction. Your clit was achingly hard, the little bud twitching as the cool air hit it. You heard your fiancee chuckle before sucking your clit into his mouth. You let out a loud cry at the feeling of your clit finally getting some attention. As the blond sucks on your bud he once again traces your hole with his finger before sliding it in until it hits the third knuckle. You keened as you felt the sweet sensation of being stretched, his fingers were much bigger than yours and were able to reach places that your own aren't able to reach. 

“F-fuck.” you moan gripping his hair to press his face closer to your core.

You can feel your body heating up sweat sticking your hair to your forehead. Your free hand reaches to grab ahold of the bedsheet, twisting it in your grasp. Kento continued sucking on your clit using his tongue to caress the bud underneath the hood causing you to practically howl at the feeling. Kento grunts, rutting his hips into the sheets trying to get some friction on his aching cock. You can feel your core tightening and your mind growing more and more frazzled. All it takes is for him to insert another finger and a long suck on your clit for the wire to snap and you were cumming all over his mouth and fingers. Kento moans as he licks your cunt clean of your orgasm, taking his time to make sure he doesn’t miss a drop of your nectar. After you're all clean he sits up, his face covered in your juices. You hold out your hands to him and he pulls you to him, you move your legs to wrap around his waist feeling his cock press into your sensitive clit. 

You let out a small whimper before saying, “Wanna ride you Kento” Hearing you say this causes his eyes to widen, slipping back into the submissiveness he displayed while you sucked him off. Before he sets you down and moves to the other side of the bed once again sitting with his back propped up by pillows. You scramble over to him and throw your leg over his waist hovering over his cock. You shudder feeling the tip of him touch your entrance. Grabbing a hold of him at the base and pressing him up against your hole, you look up at your lover waiting for him to give you the okay. He looks back at you and nods, slowly you start sinking down to him. The both of you moan, still looking each other in the eye. 

“Fuck you always feel so good.” Kento groans, hands gripping your hips. 

Once he bottoms out you both sit there for a minute letting you get used to the stretch. You’ll never get over how good it feels to have him inside you, he always stretches you out so well just enough to make your toes curl and your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling. Your back arches as your eyes roll to the back of your head, biting down on your lip as you try and get used to the stretch. Kento himself isn't faring much better you feel so wet and warm around him squeezing his cock so well, he could probably cum just from this you always feel so good around him. The grip he had on your hips was so tight you're sure that you'll still feel it come morning. 

Once the two of you are adjusted you slowly move your hips up until only the tip is inside you before dropping yourself back down until your clit is flush with the patch of blond hair sitting above where his cock rests. Your head falls back as a guttural moan rips through your throat; the feeling of being so full takes over your mind. Your eyes peek open and look down at your lover, the normally stoic and reserved man looks absolutely wrecked. His hair packed with sweat and sticking to his face, his chest flushed a deep red heaving deeply at the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him, His hands gripping your hips as if they were his lifeline.

You lift your hips back up before dropping them again trying your hardest to find a rhythm, speeding up as you continue.

“God Kento you feel so good stretching me so well,” You whimper nails digging into the skin on his chest. 

You can feel his tip perfectly hitting the spot that turns your brain to mush in this position, you let out mewls each time he brushes against the spot. Your eyes snap open when you feel fingers brushing against your clit, the sensation causing your overly sensitive bud to sing. Looking at the man beneath you as he rubs circles around your clit, his eyes gleaming with love and adoration. While he thinks you're beautiful no matter what you always look especially stunning like this, hair crazed and drenched with sweat, pupils blown, chest heaving with pleasure. He wishes he could take a picture of you just like this with his mind and keep it with him forever. 

“I love you so much, you always make me feel so good.” The blond whines his mind hazy from how tightly your cunt is squeezing him. 

The sight of you rocking your hips into his clit grinding into the hair above his cock, the feeling of your nails scratching into his chest ever time he hit that special spot within you, the way your cunt squeezes around him when your clit grazes him just right was almost enough to send him over the edge. 

“Always take such- shit take such good care of me.” Kento is rambling at this point getting lost in you and just how tight you feel at this angle.  

The feeling in your core tightens at his words; it only takes a few more strokes on your clit for you to fall over the edge. 

“Love you so much Kento shit so so much” You wail as your cunt flutters around his cock, your hips stuttering as you ride out your orgasm. 

Kento groans hands gripping onto your hips letting you come down from your high, his eyes never once leaving your figure. He thinks that if he were to die right now he’d die the happiest man in the world. As you return to your body you look down at your lover before you start grinding against him again.

“You’ve been so good for me baby, letting me take such good care of you.” You say your voice hoarse. Kento whines your words making his head fuzzy and his body warm.

You pick up the pace setting a steady rhythm, hands still placed firmly on his freckled chest. You purposely tighten around him as your hips rise up causing his back to arch hands digging almost painfully into your hips. 

“Please let me cum fuck making me feel so good.” The blond whined eyes squeezed shut. “Love you so much baby shit please let me cum” Kento is babbling at this point the feeling in his core tightening almost painfully. 

“Go ahead and cum darling you’ve earned it.” You whisper, Kento takes this as his cue and firmly plants his feet into the mattress thrusting up into you freely. 

“Thank you thankyouthankyou love you so much always so good to me.” He mumbles as he tips over the edge, his hips stuttering. 

The feeling of his warm cum spurting inside of you causing you to let out a moan of your own. As Kento rides out his high you once again run your fingers through his now sweaty hair.  Whispering in his ear how good he’s been for you, how much you love him, how proud you are of him. 

His breathing slows down as his eyes peek open, his fingers now rubbing circles on the indents he left on your hips. You sit back up looking into his warm brown eyes, fingers still working through his hair.

“Hi.” You giggle a wide smile on your face, you don’t think he could look any more handsome than he does right now. His entire upper body flushed, hair sticking to his face from sweat brown eyes twinkling as he looks at you. 

“Hi.” He says letting out a giggle of his own. He’s so utterly in love with you he thinks his heart might explode. The previous stress of his day is forgotten as he just lays there with you basking in your presence.

“I think a shower is needed darling I’m practically sticking to you.” You sigh, the feeling of your sweaty body sticking to his making you grimace.

“I wouldn’t mind you sticking to me forever.” He grumbles hating the idea of having to get up and move right now. He puts a hand on the back of your head encouraging you to lean down so he can press his lips against yours. Sighing as his lips touch yours his top lip placed firmly over your own.

“Mmmm you are so corny, you’re going to regret not showering later if we don’t go now.” You giggle, mouth still pressed against his.

Before he can protest you sit up and lift yourself off of his now soft cock, wincing at the feeling of his cum trickling out of you and down your thigh. You pull yourself up and crawl off of him, walking over to where you had placed both of your shirts, shrugging his button up on not bothering with any of the buttons and turn back to face him. His eyes lighting up at the sight of you in his shirt.

Reaching a hand out towards him you ask, 

“Are you going to join me?” Kento grins before standing up and walking towards you, the both of you making your way to the bathroom. 

Kento gently pats your butt as he walks past you into the bathroom making you squeak and swat at his hand. He thinks that he’s the luckiest man in the world right now if for nothing other than being able to spend the rest of his life with you by his side. 

[peppertoastuniverse]

more than a late night snack – gojo satoru chapter 8: strawberry shortcake

contents: gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru & reader, ieri shoko & reader, extreme friendship, swearing, fluff, gojo just being a brat, jealous!gojo, gojo calls you babe.

summary: when gojo finds that he’s surprisingly irritated observing your growing friendship with geto, ieri has some advice for him. wc: 6.2k

“but seriously next time I get to choose the movie – “ “oh big talk coming from the guy who chose the movie where we both instantly fell asleep.” gojo raises an eyebrow, falling asleep together? was there something that suguru wasn’t telling him? he told gojo everything, what would there be to hide – unless.. and you, the playfulness in your tone – he’s never heard you like this before.

previous chapter ll master list ll next chapter

gojo sighs heavily, his lonely footsteps echoing down the dark hallway. a week long mission alone? pfff easy – it was a mere grade 2 but the real difficulty lay in fighting the never ending boredom.  if someone – shoko or suguru or you –  were there with him it would’ve been way more fun. he wouldn’t have had to rely on watching shitty hotel tv or playing snake on his phone for the hundredth time. gojo was restless, he wanted something to do, someone to talk to, someone to bother. a specific someone.

reaching in to his pocket for his phone, he feels the cool beads of his matching phone charm. and he thinks about you.

would you be up right now? maybe he should go see you, say hi, hear your voice again - no, no – it’s too late, you must be trying to sleep.

lately, gojo realises that he easily found you in almost everything. while he was on his mission his thoughts often wandered to you: how would’ve enjoyed the oden he had at that small booth in takayama. when he took a photo of his meal and sent it to you, he couldn’t help his satisfied smile when you uncharacteristically responded quickly, asking where he got it from. he made a mental note to remember the stall to bring you one day. he thought about you when he passed the ads in town of the sequel to that sci-fi movie you mentioned last week, maybe you would watch it with him. he thought that time when he carried you to bed as he lathered his hands with the hotel room soap, lavender in the air – another reminder of you.

over the past couple of weeks, gojo was happy to see that you were returning to your usual self. he wasn’t sure what changed but he was happy that you had that light in your eyes return. you smiled when you talked to ieri in class again, laugh loudly when you would tease geto again and playfully roll your eyes and scoff at his comments again. he was even more pleased that you started responding to his texts more often, sure there were usually only a few words in response – but it was still something.

opening his flip phone, he checks his messages hopefully:  

gojo: b <3 what u doingggg (2:31pm) omg so boring here (2:34pm) hehe look at this looks like a butt [image]  (2:31pm) ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡ gross gojo (3:45pm) gojo: ( • ᴖ • ｡) wyddddd (3:47pm)

♡ grumpy lil babe ♡ reading (3:50pm) gojo: what r u reading (4:15pm) do u miss me yet??? (4:23pm) dw im heading home soon  (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ (4:23pm) ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡: be safe   (4:30pm) gojo: dw b, im the strongest  ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ im the best the most handsome (4:25pm)  ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡:  stop gojo (4:30pm)

a reverberating thud followed by a familiar muffled laugh interrupts his thoughts, bringing him back to the dark hallway.

what was that?

“suguruuuu! stop – i swear to god, i’m going to murder–“ a playful muffled voice.

eh? it was definitely coming from next door. was that.. was that you and suguru? 

your door promptly opens, warm light spilling out into the darkness of the hallway. gojo sees the surprising sight of his best friend exiting your room/

what was he doing there at this hour?  usually you’d be trying to sleep at this time.

why were you up?  

“but seriously next time I get to choose the movie – “

“oh big talk coming from the guy who chose the movie where we both instantly fell asleep.”

gojo raises an eyebrow, falling asleep together? was there something that suguru wasn’t telling him? he told gojo everything, what would there be to hide – unless.. and you, the playfulness in your tone – he’s never heard you like this before.

“oh really? if I can recall, you said quote “that was the best nap ever, suguru!!” when you woke up.” geto’s smug voice light with laughter, pitched up playfully mimicking your intonation.

gojo moves closer to source of the lively chatter, finding geto stalling by the threshold of your room, dressed down in comfortable clothes, loose hair, with a soft smile on his face.

gojo would’ve laughed at his strangely accurate impression of you if he didn’t feel his blood pressure rising, sourness coating his stomach, acidic and fuming. what were you and suguru doing in there? were you - “i didn’t say it like that, dumbass!” you scoff  “that was only because I had just come back from yokohama but you have no excuse –" "dude you were snoring so lou –“, he hears the shuffle of your feet as you move closer to pinch geto’s arm before stopping, noticing him. “ouch! don’t pinch me – oh hey satoru!” geto turns to greets him, rubbing his arm, eyes shooting you a bemused eyebrow quirk. geto’s methodical amethyst eyes quickly sweep over gojo’s tall frame, a smile adorns his face as he confirms that his best friend is predictably unharmed.

your head pops out of side of your door, dressed in comfortable pajamas, hair messy and tousled falling over your eyes.

“oh hi, gojo.” you say nonchalantly, eyes flickering to his face before quickly looking back at geto, “sugu, next time don’t forget the snacks,” you say with a slight pout.

“okay, okay. I wont next time, promise.” geto says shaking his head with a smile, “how was the mission, satoru? simple?” he conversationally adds, smacking gojo’s shoulder.

“easy as usual … and what were you guys up to tonight?” his eyebrows wiggle, “ha babe, if we’re going to share –  I want suguru on monday to –“

“pfff gojo, he’s not a child of divorce.”

gojo doesn’t miss the way you dodge his question.

he whines your name, “do we need to take this to court?”

a cheeky smirk dances on your lips, “you just want suguru to call you daddy.”

geto snorts before meeting your eyes in a shared mischievous glee that gojo doesn’t miss to his annoyance.

gojo’s eyes twinkle in return easily matching your mischief, “oooh babe, does that mean you’re momm–“

“good night, suguru.” you deadpan, rolling your eyes in gojo’s direction. he feels his geto’s eyes burning a hole through the side of his face, his smug smile is a bit too knowing for gojo’s liking, prompting a questioning look from latter.

“whaaaaaat?” he says exasperatedly. here we go again. suguru with his bullshit.

gojo hates it when he gets like this, all high and mighty like geto was privy to a secret. “you’re an idiot you know that?”

“sugu, just out with it.” he sighs, hands weaving through his hair.

“y’know satoru, there’s easier ways to get their attention without being annoying.” geto says tilting his head.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, dude.“ slender arms crossing his chest as gojo glances at your closed door.

geto rolls his eyes at his best friend’s stubbornness. for someone blessed with the six eyes, he was really blind.

“i’m just saying, man.” geto says smacking gojo’s shoulder as he passes, heading into his room to the right of gojo’s.

narrowed blue eyes follow geto’s receding figure before turning the doorknob to his own entrance way and strolls in, huffing as he walks in. what did suguru know anyway?

you sighed as you opened your door, tossing your school bag on your desk without a care. you stretched with a groan, rolling your shoulder to ease the tension that your fatigued body carried throughout the day.  it was nearing the end of a long week –  extra practices and lessons coupled with the shorter days of the autumn left you feeling more fatigued that usual. but despite the creeping darkness of the day, you felt lighter. you were sleeping better than ever – you were thankful that you didn’t have as many nightmares as before. perhaps it had to do with the growing comfortability you felt with ieri, geto and gojo. you remember the conversation you had with gojo: he was right, it was weird having friends. it still surprised you when geto would call you out of the blue or when ieri would get an extra coffee just for you. when you didn’t have anyone you had more time, more peace –loneliness cushioning your pounding thoughts.  but recently you found that you were busier than ever. ieri would want you to accompany her into town because she wanted your opinion on the new lipsticks that just came out. you’d laugh when she bought both anyway.  geto would gently knock on your door asking if you wanted to go for a walk with him on the school grounds, listening intently as you told him about your day. gojo would constantly text you sending you photos of anything that he thought would make you laugh or he would pop by whenever he pleased, moaning about being bored or wanting a cuddle with bun bun. you always had someone to talk to, voices in your head being replaced with boisterous laughter.

stretching out on your bed, you stared at the ceiling wondering what ieri was up to. maybe you’d call her to see if she wanted to do something.

you flip open your phone to check your messages, unconsciously playing with the black beads of your phone charm. on your screen you hum as you see the usual messages from gojo which you ignore in favour for the one from ieri.

ieri shoko: come w us to that café I was talking about at break (5:04pm) btw us is satoru, sugu, me n u come, don’t b boring (5:15pm)

ah. right. she mentioned to you that she wanted to try that cozy café in shibuya that she saw, the one with the cute lights and the pretty drinks.

you: what time? (5:17pm) ieri shoko: in 30 (5:18pm)

getting up with a groan you begin to get ready, the promise of a matcha latte energizing you.

after appropriately layering up to match the fall weather, you hear your doorknob turn - 

“heyyyy, y’ready or what?” your head whips to the tall white haired disturbance.

 “would it kill you to knock, gojo?” you snap, your hands buttoning up your coat.

­“I did! but you were taking too long!” gojo grins, moving into your room, swinging his arms, rocking back and forth on his feet.

“what if I was changing or something?”

he smiles brashly, “heh, then that’d be even better– “  

you roll your eyes. “don’t you dare finish that sentence, gojo, ugh.” lips pursing.

his slender hands up in defense, “im just joking, babe – really! how low is your opinion of me” he pouts, his whole body drooping at your expression, “I wouldn’t do that to you, I swear.’ he hastily says trying to rectify of your unmoving frown and unimpressed stare.

“…you forgot this, by the way. “ ah, that’s where it went. he gently holds out your scarf bundled up in his left hand, caressing as if it was a secret shared between the two of you.

“you uh, left it on my desk the last time..” he mutters, moving closer to you, he takes the scarf in his hands and drapes the soft fabric around you, a hug he didn’t have the courage yet to give you. “.. are you feeling better now..?” you hum, trying to distract yourself from the sudden wave of nervousness you feel. the combined softness of the scarf around your exposed neck and the strange tenderness of his gaze was enough to make you feel unsteady. “mhm, yeah much better –  i can breathe again, all thanks to you.” he says brightly, blue eyes focused on your scarf. looking up at him, you couldn’t help but notice how close he was, the air in your room growing heavier when electricity. you observe how his eyes narrowed slightly in concentration, trying to recreate the exact way you wore your scarf in sapporo. he had a freckle on the side of his left cheek – you hadn’t noticed that. you wonder what it’d feel like against your palms or against your lips, if your fingers traced his lips would it remind you of the way – 

what was wrong with you? you almost cringe at your own intrusive thoughts – this was gojo. the dumb boy who poked your cheeks to get your attention, who loudly teased you about the stupidest things, making your head spin with ridiculous requests and crazy plans of mischief.  satoru gojo: just another boy, just like everyone else, just another dumb boy. satoru.  

he senses your stare, meeting your eyes, “hm?” “you good? it looks like you’re in pain or something.” “i..uh, yeah.” you clear your throat, leaning closer to him. “uh, i’m good, are you good?” his eyes flicker to your lips. soft. pretty.

“m’ good.” he smiles at you. you wish he wouldn’t. “ta da! now you won’t get cold anymore.” he softly grins, remembering how you shivered in sapporo. he wouldn’t mind having to warm up again though he thinks, the admittance simultaneously confusing him and bringing him comfort. you hum, looking up at him.  his hands still holding the ends of your scarf around your neck, hands unable to let go. “y’know, babe.. I–“ a soft knock on your door.

“that’s probably them,” you whisper, still staring at him. “mhm, we should go,” his hands dropping hesitantly from your scarf, moving to brush some hair out of your face. you close your eyes sighing, you didn’t know what was going on with you – lately you’ve been more willing to withstand gojo’s company. you found yourself laughing more around him, not even minding his crude jokes and annoying pouts.

this was uncharted territory for you – having friends, having anyone – you had to be careful. now you had something to lose, you had to be prepared for the inevitable.  your hands twitch at the thought of his.

“I told you sugu, it’s because you keep eating that kimchi, it’s gone off I swear – “

“– uh huh, you sure about that? i gave you some the other day and you didn’t have any stomach issues –“

gojo ears perk up hearing your playful tone, watching you and geto walk in front of him and ieri. the autumn sun low and waning, doing little to warm his pale face. he thinks the cold weather is the reason why his fists keep clenching.

were you and geto always this close? when did this happen, do you and geto hang out all the time or something? when did he miss that? gojo has to remind himself to loosen his tightening jaw as watches as your hand gesture wildly as happily chat with geto, a cute bounce in your step. “- and then yaga told me, that if he finds out that it was you and suguru that switched all the sugar and salt in the kitchens again that he’s going to shave both of your heads, so maybe lay low for a couple of weeks.” ieri sighs, tucking her cold hands into her pocket beside him.

half listening, gojo irritatedly tousling his hair while mumbling something incoherently.

“gojo, what did i just say?” she glaces at him, his uncharacteristic silence deafening.  

he sighs before putting on a thin smile. “that suguru and I should lay low even though I swear – it was babe who switched it this time.”

“okay, then what died?” ieri asks amused at gojo’s stony expression, his usual bouncy stride heavy and stiff with the weight of something unspoken.  “what are you talking about?” he asks as ieri rolls her eyes, “I can sense your cursed energy going off the rails.”

“eh? nothing!” he waves his hand, attempting to brush away his intruding thoughts. “everything’s fine and dandy, boo! you keep thinking of me though, do you like me or something because – “ ierri’s nostrils flare, she quickly curls her hand into a first before roughly punching gojo’s shoulder, earning her a satisfying whine.

she hates when gojo does this, trying to mask his feelings when it was so easy to read him. who did he think he was he fooling? subtly was never in the cards for gojo, he too up too much space, he was unapologetic in every sense. why couldn’t he be honest with himself? she scoffs, having no patience for his nonsense. “whatever you say, dude – “ she says reaching over to take his glasses from his face.

“how come you always beat me up, shoko!” he complains, rubbing his eyes.

“because you deserve it.” she says, putting on his dark glasses on her, side eying gojo’s thinly veiled smile and fidgeting hands as he watches you and geto walk closer together, laughter fading in the background.

shoko stops abruptly, stopping gojo with her arm. she tilts gojo’s glasses down her nose with a pointed look. “what?” he asks, turning to fully face her. “satoru – if you like them, just tell them.” “what? what are you talking – “ “don’t play around, satoru. im serious.” she looks into his blue eyes. “shoko, I have no idea what you’re talking about.“ this dumbass. she tsks. taking off his glasses to put them back onto his face. “im not playing around –“ “then, be straightforward with them, if you don’t youre going to hurt –“ gojo scoffs impatiently, pushing his glasses up “i would never hurt them,” mild offence coating his words. “i know you won’t mean to but sometimes you’re reckless. even if you have good intentions, it doesn’t mean that your actions wouldn’t hurt someone, yourself included.” ieri says adjusting her coat, her sigh weighing heavy in the air. “whatever it is, just don’t be more of an idiot today – they’re just friends.” she states plainly watching you sneakily collect the falling gingko leaves, attempting to tuck them into geto’s bun without him noticing. your eyes sparkling when you catch ieri’s eye, a mischievous smile prominent. it didn’t look like just friends to him as he watches you animatedly talk to geto, teasing smile on your face, soft hands generous with your touch casually slapping his arm as geto turns to you softly laughing.

“yeah… everyone’s friends,” gojo mumbles, eyes stormy behind his glasses, arms crossing against his chest.

“satoru, seriously –“ she starts, her name serves as an interruption silencing ieri’s rant.

“shoko!” you call out again, smile still prominent on your face as you turn back to get her attention. ieri watches as geto takes hair down to brush the leaves out of his hair. he mumbles something exasperatedly before retying his bun up, bangs blowing softly in the gentle breeze.  “which one is it again?” “just the one on the corner at the very end!” she shouts back as you and geto look up at the signs of the small cafes lining the street. ieri chuckles as she catches a glimpse of geto trying to sneakily put some leaves into your scarf.

gojo cant help but take in your face, flushing from the cold. he notices the way your eyes reflect the light of the shop windows. he liked the gentle way you would bounce on your feet when you saw something in the shop windows that peaked your interest, a small hand grabbing geto’s elbow to halt his long stride to point something out. he suddenly didn’t feel so hungry anymore. watching you and geto he felt like his stomach was filling of something that he didn’t understand, but far too acidic and harsh to be pleasant. the longer he stared, he couldn’t help but let it consume him.   

ieri abruptly nudges him, “– hey, stop staring, we’re here.” she mumbles, seeing you slowly approach gojo with a curious look.  

ieri swiftly flashes gojo a shit eating grin that he doesn’t catch, before joining geto inside the café, the bell of the door jingling announcing her leave.

“hm, what’s with the face?” you ask him, waiting for him at the entrance. “why? you’ve been staring?” he puckering up his lips playfully, the sound of your voice easing the acidity. “nope.” you easy answer, looking at him as if trying to study gojo’s face.  He holds the door open for both of you, “you’re just weirdly quiet.. what are you planning?”

how to kill suguru without you noticing.

he grins stalely, easily masking the lump growing in this throat, “nothing, nothing. why babe, thinking y’thinking ‘bout me?”

he leans closely to your face, taking advantage of the limited time he has with you. your eyes widen at his sudden closeness, cheeks flushing in surprise.  “hmm, what’s with the face, babe?” he mocks, looking into your wide eyes. “it’s a face of disgust,” you answer weakly, “you should be used to it now.” rolling your eyes as you turn around to easily slot behind ieri and geto in line who were  busy chatting thoughtfully about the menu. the café was small but cozy, wooden accents contrasting between cool black metal. there was an aesthetically pleasing drinks menu and a beautiful case filled with various pastries and cakes. it definitely suited ieri you thought. “suguru? could you just get me my usual please? I have to use the restroom.” you ask suguru in front of you, gently pulling the back of his jacket to get his attention. “do you want the almond milk this time or regular?” he asks, leaning down slightly to hear you better, still looking at the menu.

gojo can’t help but roll his eyes behind his glasses, foot tapping out an unfamiliar rhythm, jagged staccato echoing the heaviness in his heart.  “maybe regular this time and ahh.. a slice of cake? whatever you think is good – you always know what to get anyway.” you say thoughtfully, unwrapping your scarf. “yeah, baby? can you get something for me too? you’re so big and so strong, maybe you can carry me to the table too – “

“gojo, I know for a fact you’d giggle like a school girl if suguru carried you. maybe for your birthday.” you shut his jabber down immediately, patting his shoulder patronizingly before making your way across the café to the bathrooms. geto narrows his eyes at gojo’s gaping at your back before turning his gaze to ieri who he catches biting her lip to stifle her laughter.

oh. oh this will be fun. catching shoko’s twinkling eyes, geto thinks it’s about time that gojo get the push he needs to figure this out.

“i can pick you up if that’s what you really want, satoru.” he purrs as he moves closer to gojo, ruffling his hair.

“shut up suguru.” he pouts, brushing moving away from his teasing grasp to order his food.

choosing the cozy banquet near the back of the cafe, you gaze out the window watching the sun go down. you slowly take off your coat, hands brushing your scarf, loose ginkgo leaves falling to the ground.  your mind easily drifts to his soft hands brushed your hair away from your face.

why were you thinking about this? it’s just a stupid scarf, that smelled like his room – like him. you clear your throat. you had to get it together. stop it. “so, I was thinking,” ieri says brightly, plopping down in the seat next to you while balancing a plate with a rather large chocolate croissant, “ – did you wanna go shopping with me sometime next week?” “what did you want to get?”  “a disposable camera. i think we should take some photos, I realised I don’t have any of us together.” says ieri nonchalantly, “and I’d rather have you all over my walls than these two.” she jerks her head at an approaching geto holding a slice of strawberry shortcake in each hand while a slightly less grumpy gojo trails behind him closely carrying a tray of various cake slices. geto smiles at you as he slides you your slice of cake, claiming the seat in front of you to gojo’s dismay.

ieri’s eyes widen at gojo’s diabetic feast. “eugh satoru, save some cake for the rest of japan.” ieri says, nose crinklling, watching gojo balancing 3 different slices of cake. it looked like a beautiful matcha one, a delicate tiramisu and a rich double chocolate layered cake. “see, that’s what I told him…” geto murmurs under his breath. “hey! I don’t say shit when you buy your magazines-“ he murmurs, demolishing a third of the matcha cake in a single bite. geto shoots gojo a disgusted look before turning to you and ieri, “our drinks are coming by the way, they’ll send someone over.”  as he passes you a spoon as you thank him.

“so, babe. let’s get that camera next week, okay?” shoko teases, turning to you while chewing a piece of her chocolate croissant happily.

“eughhhh, if you don’t ever call me that again we can go.” you groan, taking a small bite out of your cake enjoying the light whipped cream pillowing the crisp fresh strawberries.

“hmm, I dunno…” geto playfully comments, “I think it suits you though, babe,” resting his cheek on his palm.

a clang echoes through the air. gojo’s fork falling noisily on his plate as he chokes on his mouthful of cake, it sliding heavily into his stomach settling like a rock.

you turn your head to gojo, “you okay gojo? don’t eat so quickly – chew!”

ieri has to turn around to stifle her giggles at gojo’s ridiculousness, shoulders shaking silently. she couldn’t wait to tease him about this tomorrow.

gojo coughs as geto pats his back roughly. “oh yeah babe, i’m just amazing.” gojo wheezes.

“and you, don’t fucking start.” you say rolling your eyes, kicking geto gently under the table.

“yeah sugu, only I get to call them that.” gojo grumbles, loud enough for only ieri to hear.

ieri’s snort announces the arrival of the table’s drinks –  an iced hazelnut latte for ieri, a hojicha tea for geto, a triple hot chocolate with whipped cream for gojo and a matcha latte for yourself.

“shoko, what were you saying about yaga sensei wanting to shave our heads?” geto asks, passing you your drink carefully.

ieri snickers with a wolfish grin, “he told me before lunch. it’s because he thinks that you and satoru were the ones who switched the salt and sugar in the kitchens again. that’s why they just had instant ramen and those pork buns for lunch today.”

you laugh. “good. the kitchens need to taste their food more or something, that oyakodon needed way more season–“ “aww, satoru, cmon.” geto moans.

you turn your head to catch gojo reaching over and triumphantly taking the large strawberry decorating the top of geto’s cake, popping it into his mouth with a cheeky grin.

“you have like 3 pieces of cake, and you still want some of mine?” geto smacks gojo’s shoulder unimpressed. judging by his deadpan voice combined with the looseness of his shoulders, you think that geto’s used to this behaviour from his misbehaving puppy – silent disappointment colouring his words.

“it’s okay you can have mine. here -“ gojo watches you with wide eyes as you gently scoop your strawberry off of your half eaten cake with your spoon with an irritating sense of causality, like you’ve done this a thousand times before. you lean across the table to lifting the spoon up to geto’s mouth.

he pulls away with a slight frown on his face, searching your face, calling your name. “y’sure? i know you love strawberries...” “s’okay, sugu.” you mention nonchalantly, moving the spoon closer to his mouth. “I want you to have it, you paid for it anyway.” ieri grips the glass of her iced hazelnut latte before quickly taking a sip through the paper straw, not trusting herself from bursting out laughing. her brown eyes dart to a frozen gojo, mouth etched into a hard line, leg bouncing up and down irritatingly watching the scandalous scene unfold. ieri knew that you and geto were just friends, close friends in fact but nothing more. she would have had some sympathy for gojo, but after weeks of catching him staring in your direction or catching how his ears would perk up when ieri casually mentioned you in passing. she’d even asked him outright if he had any sort of feelings towards you to which he always brushed off, claiming that ieri was watching too many romance dramas. she had enough – this was getting painfully ridiculous. with a scoff ieri thought that in this light, jealousy looked good on him. it would do him some good.

sensing geto’s hesitation, you say with a bit of bite to your tone “dude, im sure. just take it  – or do I have to start making airplane noises for you?” geto scoffs at your impatience. he allows you to gently guide your spoon into his awaiting mouth, “mhm, thanks –“  geto hums chewing on fruit.

ieri thinks she might cry trying to hold in her laughter at gojo’s murderous pout.

he turning his best friend, moving his bangs out of his face, “holy shit, satoru I forgot to tell you – in roppongi last week  – “ gojo watched you at the corner of his eye lick off the rest of the whipped cream on the spoon, moving to take another spoonful of your cake, engaged in a conversation with ieri about your new training regimen that yaga implemented.

occasionally you look over at gojo, his dark glasses covering his stormy eyes, his slender fingers drumming restlessly against the countertops. regardless of what he said when you entered the café, it seemed like something was on his mind.

what was he thinking about? was he okay? “– I don’t know man,” geto continues, “you can’t just do whatever you want like that. at least call him yaga sensei, no wonder he automatically assumes you’re –“

“ah… do we not have napkins?” your voice rings out, cutting through the static.

“oh– I can, grab some if –“ geto starts, moving to get up.

“no, no – i’ll get some for you don’t worry!” he shoots up enthusiastically walking across the cafe, cutting geto off rudely.

“oh – ah. thanks.”

geto forces down a smirk and shoots a pointed look at ieri. look at this idiot go, eh?

 ieri rolls her eyes in response, hand shooting up to cover her mouth to prevent a laugh escaping. I know. I told him to cool it. dumbass.

“here, babe.” gojo returns, handing you a few napkins.

“thanks.” you smile softly at him as your fingers brush his. geto notices gojo’s lingering stare as you wipe your lips with a napkin. “hey, shoko?” geto calls wearing an enigmatic smile as he sips the last of his tea,“didn’t you want to grab some cigarettes?”

“right!” ieri’s eyes light up, catching on quickly, slightly disappointed at geto’s saintly behaviour, she wanted to see gojo suffer just a bit more.  “yeah, I’ve just run out. since we’re finished, let’s go grab some really quick.”

you nod, folding your napkin, “mhm, call us when you’re done.” “we’ll see you in a bit!” geto says over his shoulder, as you wave at them. geto smiles at how gojo easily slides into his seat in front of you, shaking his head in amusement. “how’s your cake, babe?” gojo asks leaning towards you, scraping his spoon against the dainty plate to catch the remnants of the chocolate ganache. “really good, actually. we should come back here another time, your chocolate cake looked pretty good.” you mention, taking a long drink out of your matcha latte. “yeah? you like this place? let’s go to this other café me and suguru stumbled upon last week – “

you sit in a comfortable silence, listening as gojo chatters about how this other café had pastries shaped like “ these cute fucking cats and puddings shaped like ducks! I’ve never seen anything like it, babe –“ finishing your drinks, you watch as the streets outside slowly empty, darkness overtaking the grey sky.

“shall we go, grumps?” he suggests as you nod, shrugging your coat on and grabbing your scarf.

gojo opens the door for you, as you quickly follow him onto the quiet streets, the street lights illuminating your way home. clutching your scarf, you quickly wrap it around yourself.  “did you have enough to eat?” he asks hands in his pockets. “yeah, the matcha was nice,” you answer, taken aback by his thoughtful question. “your usual you said – you always get a matcha latte?” “mhm, yeah. it was a thing for me and my dad. he’d always sneak me matcha candies when mom wasn’t looking and my sister was asleep – he’d say that it was our little secret. so now.. whenever I have matcha I think of him.” you say, eyes focused on the lights in front of you. you didn’t know how it became so easy to speak to him, but you didn’t mind.   “have you matcha from kyoto? the best matcha is in kyoto.” he asks adjusting his glasses. “mhm, I haven’t. ha, what?” you say with the tilt of your head noting his unusual silence. what was up with him today?  “why gojo, don’t like kyoto?” “nah, im from there,” he answers easily, warmth slowly returning to his voice. your eyes widen slightly. you didn’t know that. huh. “the estate is there, so they make me go there every couple of weeks to do clan shit.” “and I assume that clan shit isn’t just sitting around and drinking matcha at home, eh?”  he chuckles, stretching out his lanky frame carding his hands through his hair. “nope. home is not exactly the… warmest place in the world. y’know – the estate.” “home can be a complicated word.” you say shrugging your scarf on tighter. “more like fucked up, babe.” “that too.” you laugh, a bright and airy sound. gojo smiles. “we used to move a lot as a kid, and my sister used to cry and cry about it. my mom used to always say that home wasn’t a place but a person.” you say softly.

gojo turns his head to look at you, your forlorn smile, eyes searching the starless sky. he thinks that you look beautiful. maybe your mom could be right.

“hey! we should go to that ice cream matcha ice cream place in asakusa” he says excitedly, as your face lights up and his suggestion, “it’s way closer to than kyoto but just as good.” “hmm yeah, we should go. I wanna try those matcha parfaits –“ you say happily, arms swinging playfully. you turn to him abruptly, moving your face closer to his “but you can’t share with me –“ wagging a finger in his face, “you need to get your own.”

gojo stops in his tracks, deep pout on his face. “wooooow, babe. you’re seriously not gonna even share with me!?”

you laugh, a bright and fleeting sound. he thinks he could live in your laugh.   “gojo, come on,” you poke his cheek, “i know you can finish a whole one by yourself, you just ate fucking 3 slices of cake!” another poke. “you’re so greedy, grumps.�� he whines, appalled by the injustice.

“i’m the greedy one?! gojoooooo!!” you pout back. gojo feels like he might explode.

“that doesn’t matter – it’s more fun if we share!!” he pokes your cheek back, a grin fighting its way on his face, blue eyes crinkling in the dark. “but I want the whole damn thing!” you whine back, noticing the way gojo’s hand settles to plays with a tassel of your scarf. “ah, ah, ahhh - what about the babe tax?” “what the fuck is the babe tax, gojo?” ­ you gape. “I get to have a bite! I buy you all your snacks anyway,” he grumbles. “… is that why you took suguru’s strawberry?” “exactly.” “but he paid for his own – “ you try to reason. “the baby tax is different, babe – i dont make the rules”

fuck. he had a point. you pout. separating yourself from him, your small strides leading the way. like a magnet, gojo catches up to you easily, standing beside you, unsure of your next move.

“only one bite.” you hesitantly say, weighing your words carefully.  “…and you still need to get your own.” he laughs with his whole body, excitedly throwing his arm over your shoulder, squeezing your frame enthusiastically.   you smirk. there he was – that was the gojo you knew.  “hehe, I knew you’d let me babe!”  his joy engulfs you, white and blinding. you can’t help but laugh along with him, you feel a bit dizzy but it’s probably from all the sugar anyway.

“ I swear it’s the best fucking matcha ice cream ever. they even have those fancy matcha drinks–“ with his arm around you gojo notices an unfamiliar feeling blooming in his chest, something that was previously hidden in the shadows but only now, nurtured the right conditions, it steps boldly into the light. maybe it’s the way you let him keep his arm around you until you reach the station together, pleasantly surprising him when you move closer to bask in his warmth. your relaxed shoulders moving up and down in silent laughter when you pretend not to find one of his jokes funny. either way, it hits him all at once, and almost overwhelmingly so.   he chuckles as he realises that shoko was right.

snackies!tags: @starmapz @ghost-buddies

a/n: im alive! ahhhh! jealous gojo is wild. he just wants some attention... thanks for sticking with me (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ -- super special thank you to @yung-notorious for providing feedback and suggestions and moral support for this chapter, thank you, love you, appreciate you! check out her fic, Never Lose Me! -- head image credit: Watashi ni Tenshi ga Maiorita dividers from: @/adornedwithlight

[slaybestieslay946]

Stay

pairing: paul atreides x reader

word count: 2000

warnings: light angst with a happy ending

summary: you are the empress of the known universe alongside paul atreides, however, you dont agree with what hes doing, so you give him an ultimatum.

You had always loved the rain. Especially on Caladan. Yes, on your home planet it had rained fairly frequently, but it wasn’t the same. The rain on Caladan came down by the bucket full, not measly little drops. Each minute sheets of water fell from the sky like rolls of silver fabric. 

The only thing that lulled you to sleep more effectively than rain on a window, was the slow, contented breathing of your husband beside you, and the slow movement of his fingers brushing against your waist. Every now and again he’d re-adjust his position to get even closer to you. 

Usually he fell asleep before he was practically clinging to you, but tonight was not one of those occasions. 

“Paul,” You laughed breathily, pushing away from him a bit in order to spin in his arms and face him. 

He groaned in complaint as you moved away from him and opened his eyes blearily. 

“Why’re you moving away…” He complained, trying to pull you back to him. 

“Because you’re practically on top of me, I’m not a hot water bottle.” You chided, although the teasing smile on your face gave away your true feelings. 

“No, you’re better.” He said, a sly smile on his face, “Now c’mere, I’m cold.” 

You sighed, but did as he said, tugging his arm around you and lacing your fingers together. 

You could feel Paul’s smile on the back of your neck as he found a way to hold you even closer. 

“I love you.” He whispered, and you replied in kind, the smile that formed on your face certain to match the one he was currently wearing. 

“Promise you’ll stay with me?” 

“Mhm. I promise.” 

Now, as you paced nervously around the hangar, you couldn’t help but think back to that promise you had made. At the time, you thought that nothing could tear you away from Paul Atreides, not the sun nor the stars. 

Of course, you could never have planned for him becoming Emperor of the known universe. And you could have never known that it would be him tearing the both of you apart. 

At first, when you had been planning your escape, you had hoped that the aircraft would arrive before your husband. That was before you remembered who your husband was now. He would notice you were gone almost immediately, so you had to plan for confrontation, not avoid it. 

“What is this?” A voice came from the entrance to the hangar, echoing through the cavernous room and into your ears. He didn’t sound angry, merely confused.

You turned to face him and his expression was just what you thought it would be, torn between angry and distressed. In his hand, he held the note which you had written, telling him to meet you down here.

“I am leaving, Paul. For Caladan.” You said firmly, turning to face him. 

He smiled weakly, shaking his head, “Why all the smoke and mirrors? If you wanted to return home you should have said so. I would have prepared a ship for us both-”

“Because I am not going with you.” You interrupted, your voice harsh.

“What do you mean? It is not exactly typical for the Empress to leave her husband days after the coronation.” He laughed, but it was not the melodic sound you had once loved, instead it was forced, choked even. 

“Well, you are not the typical Emperor. I am leaving, and you will not follow me.” You stated, remaining firm, even as your heart threatened to betray your mind and run back to him. 

Paul just stared at you, his face painted white in shock. 

“Why?” He asked, his voice cracking.

“Because I can no longer stay by your side and watch you become this. You are becoming someone I do not recognise.” 

“My love, what are you talking about-?”

“I'm talking about this, Paul! Your holy war! You do remember that, don’t you? The war you swore to me you’d do anything to stop? And now, here you are, at its forefront.”

“I had no choice.” He said, his eyes hardening slightly.

“You always have a choice. You are their so-called ‘messiah’. Their emperor. They would fly into the sun if you asked them to. So ask them, stop this war before it consumes everything.”

“You know it is not that simple!” He shouted, and you couldn’t help but flinch slightly before rallying yourself.

“The man I married on Caladan would not have cared about simplicity. He would have cared about what was right, what was moral! He would never have entered this conflict, he would have laid down his life to prevent it! And I would have been right beside him.” 

“This conflict was inevitable! I am doing my very best to minimise the damage, can’t you understand that?”

“I understand that you are still not doing enough.”

Paul looked at you, incredulously, anger filling his gaze, “Really? How can I do more when my own wife does not believe in me! You claim to support me, and yet now you are leaving me. My position is still weak, and you leave the only man you have ever claimed to love.”

“Your position! You are faced with the massacre of your people and all you can speak of is your position!?. Have you no soul left Paul? Did it melt away on Arrakis, scorched by the sun?” 

Suddenly all the anger and venom drained from Paul’s face, and he found himself dropping to his knees, and begging you to stay. 

“You are my soul. You have been all these years. You keep me balanced, you are my morality, my goodness. Everything I do is for you, my love, for your safety. I only care about my position for it is your position also, all the power I have acquired is only in the name of keeping you from harm.”

You looked at him, staring deeply into his eyes, that piercing blue that you had thought so beautiful when they finally changed. Now they were just a reminder of how much he had changed since coming to this awful place. 

“I want to believe you. But you have always had such a way with words. I watched the way you deceived those people into following you, is that what you’re doing now?” 

He rose to his feet again, taking your hands in his. His face was frantic with fear. 

“I would never deceive you. I mean every word, I’ve felt this way my whole life. You are the most important thing to me. You know I would never lie to you.”

For the first time since the conversation began, you hesitated slightly. Could you believe him? Eventually, you landed on an answer. 

“...I do. You would never lie to me on purpose. You are lying to yourself too Paul. You know that I have never wanted position, nor power, heavens, I have never even wanted safety! All I have ever wanted is you, wholly, truly, with no barriers-”

“And you have me!” 

You reached up to splay your hand across his cheek, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill from his blue-blue eyes. 

“No, I don’t have you. I have splinters of you, and I fear the rest is lost. You may bear the resemblance of the man I love, but you are not him.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but no sound came out. 

Suddenly there was the immense whirring of gears, and you knew your ship was here to take you to Caladan.

“I’m afraid we do not have much time, so listen to what I say,” He didn’t react, his face remaining desperate and heartbroken, but you continued anyway.

“If you finally realise what you have done, and you fix it, come to me on Caladan. But I don’t want to see the Muad’dib, or the ‘Messiah’, or the Kwisatz Haderach. The only man I wish to see is my husband, Paul Atreides. Remember that Paul.” 

You gave him one last longing look before turning away from him, and making towards the ship that was emerging from the floor of the hangar.

“I’ll see you again?” He called, his voice cracking slightly as he stared after your retreating form in defeat. 

“Hopefully so, my love, hopefully so.” 

And with that, you stepped onto the outstretched platform of the ship, and shut the door behind you. Paul stayed in the hangar until the craft was gone, biting his tongue so as not to call out to you again and beg you to stay.  

*

The message that the Emperor would be coming to visit you had come far sooner than you expected.  

And you were disappointed in him. He was breaking your agreement, and so soon. It had only been a year, and to your knowledge there had been no change in the situation.

 Perhaps he was coming to ask for a divorce, maybe he’d found someone else since you left. That would certainly be ironic, considering the way he had begged for you to stay on Arrakis. 

However, you were incorrect, because only a few days later a messenger came to tell you that the jihad had ended.         

Immediately you leapt out of your seat, clasping your hand over your mouth in shock. He had done it. 

For the next few days, Castle Caladan was abuzz with preparations for the Emperor returning home. You oversaw said preparations with a watchful eye, and though you wouldn’t admit it, you were happier than you had been in years. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you had missed Paul terribly. 

Yet, when his ship landed, you were nowhere to be found. 

“Where is my wife?” Paul asked one of your ladies in waiting as he strode through the halls of his childhood home. 

“My lord, she left on a walk to the cliffs this morning, and has not returned since. Would you like me to send someone to fetch her?”

The Emperor’s harsh expression softened slightly. “No, I’ll go.” 

It didn’t take Paul long to work out where you had gone, and as he climbed one of the paths up to the cliffs, he was glad to see you sitting on one of the benches, clad in the green silks of house Atreides. 

He called your name, and his voice cut through the gusting winds into your ear, and you turned to face him with a searching look on your face. 

You stood, and couldn’t help but jog towards your husband, gathering your skirts so you didn’t trip and make a fool of yourself. However, you stopped short of running into his arms, opting to stand just in front of him so you could inspect his face properly. 

“Is it you, Paul? Have you finally come back to me?” You asked, your voice cracking slightly. 

“It’s me,” He whispered, reaching a hand out to touch you, “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, what I was doing was wrong, and I know that now, and-!”

You cut off his rambling apology by surging forwards into his arms and kissing him fiercely. He immediately responded in kind, wrapping an arm around your waist and cradling your head in his hand, whilst you held onto the lapels of his coat as tightly as you could. 

Despite the fact you wanted to stay like that forever, eventually the need for oxygen prevailed, and you broke away to take a deep breath in, laughing lightly at the sight of his flushed face. 

He grinned at you, moving the hand that was on the back of our head back to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your face. 

“You missed me?” He asked, teasing, but his voice had a slight edge of concern to it. 

“Yes. I missed you so much.” You said immediately, emphatically. Because you had missed Paul, it felt as if you hadn’t seen the real him for years, and the feeling of being reunited was almost too much for you to contain. 

He let out a short sigh of relief, “I missed you too. But it’s ok, because I’ve fixed it all. They still think I’m their messiah, but I’m going to stop acting like it. And you were right, I was power hungry, and selfish, and I exploited so many people, and I betrayed you, and-”

“Enough, Paul.” You said, looking at him with so much care that he couldn’t help but smile softly, “Yes, you have made mistakes, but it wasn’t all your fault. And you’ve made a change now, you’re doing the right thing. And I’ll always be there for you. I had to leave to help you, but I knew we’d see each other again. And here we are, back home, just like old times.” 

“You’re right.” 

“I often am, my love.” 

He wrapped his arms around you once again, “Will you stay with me, here?” 

You nodded, “Mhm. I’ll stay for good this time.”

[wlntrsldler]

i’m kinda feeling a jealous!luke rn…… how do we feel about luke going to cheer for fuve star in one of her matches but afterwards when he’s going to congratulate her, he finds some dude trying to flirt with her. and she’s clearly not interested but luke doesn’t miss the chance to greet her with a kiss and then look at the guy with the most annoyed, dismissive expression ever. then luke smiles. “sorry, was i interrupting?”

a/n: i know nothing about field hockey! beware!

"mr. d, i don't know how you do this," luke muttered, eyes darting between you and clarisse on the field. the score was 1-1 and it was end of 2OT. both teams were gearing up for a shootout for the national title. "i've never been this nervous in my life."

mr. d chuckled from beside him, placing a comforting hand on luke's upper back, "trust me, it doesn't get any easier."

"i think i'm gonna throw up," chris mumbled from beside luke, anxiously waiting for the referee to indicate that the shootout was starting. clarisse was third on the line-up.

"you and me both, brother," luke replied, chewing on his bottom lip. he tugged on his shirt, suddenly feeling confined in the fabric. you were so close to the championship. this was the final game and if you won, you'd be a back-to-back national champion.

luke knew how hard you worked to get here. he often got voice memos from you, ranting about how practice and training wore you out, but he knew you got up bright and early the next day to do it again. you fell asleep on facetime calls often, sometimes only lasting ten minutes before you fell asleep on the call.

"it's starting," chris said, getting up from his seat. "i don't know if i want to watch or look away."

northwestern was up first. goal.

"fuck," travis groaned, echoing the sentiment of fellow unc supporters in the stands.

connor and travis were sitting behind him, both equally nervous to see how the game would unfold. you and clarisse had bought them unc merch to wear to the game, but luke and chris wanted to surprise you and clarisse with diy shirts that said "number [your jersey number/ clarisse's jersey number] biggest fan." you and clarisse both laughed when you saw their shirts. you loved them.

by the time it was clarisse's turn, the score was 1-0 (shootout) with unc trailing behind.

"come on, clar," chris hollered, clapping his hands, "you got this!"

clarisse masterfully maneuvered around northwestern's goalie and sunk the ball into the net. the boys and mr. d screamed in celebration as the score changed to reflect the goal. 1-1. unc was still in it.

clarisse pointed to the stands, eyes finding chris' in the crowd and blew him a kiss. chris beamed as he saw himself on the big screen. he pointed to his shirt, mouthing, "that's my girl!"

"i love how two days ago you guys had no clue how field hockey worked and now look at you," silena teased, adjusting the unc cap on her head.

"we still don't know what's going on, to be honest," luke replied sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck, "but this is the big game!"

"i get it," she said, nudging charlie, "i still don't understand football but i'm at my wits end every time i watch him play."

charlie chuckled, wrapping an arm around silena's waist, before cheering with the rest of the crowd when you stepped up for the shootout.

you were the last one to go and even that alone is a lot of pressure, but you were the tiebreaker for this shootout. the score was still 1-1. nobody has scored since clarisse, both goalies were brick walls and luke's heart was hammering in his chest.

"come on, five star," he whispered, biting his knuckles, "light work baby."

you took a deep breath and dribbled the ball. you were electric out there. you were strategic and quick on your toes. luke was mesmerized watching you play. he'd seen your tapes before, in preparation for this game just so he wasn't completely clueless walking into the championship game, but watching it in real time was something else.

you swerved around the goalie and hit the ball. luke held his breath. goal.

"let's fucking go!" you screamed, falling to your knees on the field as your teammates rushed to engulf you in a hug.

the screams from the unc fans were defeaning. luke was grinning from ear to ear as the boys cheered around him. chris wrapped an arm around his shoulders, shaking him relentlessly. luke couldn't contain his excitement, but he knew that he should let you have this moment with your team. he'll celebrate with you in a bit, for now, you needed to soak in this feeling. back-to-back national champion.

as the adrenaline from the win began to subside, luke and chris, with the help of mr. d, made their way to the field. chris wandered off to find clarisse and luke was standing on the sidelines as mr. d talked to your coach. he watched as you did your post-game interview. you were glowing and it took all his willpower to not run up to you and kiss you on national television.

when you shook the reporter's hand in goodbye, luke began walking over to you, only to stop in his tracks when a boy approached you. luke blinked, tilting his head as he watched the situation unfold.

the guy was... okay-looking. he was definitely an athlete too, based on his build and height. luke's assumptions were proven correct when he got close enough to see his unc basketball hoodie. the boy's eyes fucking twinkled while he spoke to you, a charming smile adorning his face that luke wanted to punch off his prince charming facade.

he watched as you took a step back from the boy, awkwardly gesturing somewhere in the stands. luke felt smug hearing you say, "well, i have a boyfriend and he's over there actually so i should go find him."

but the guy was not letting up. luke watched as the guy rolled his eyes, obviously unphased by your revelation. luke clenched his jaw, keeping his composure.

luke marched over to you and wrapped an arm around your waist to turn you around. he roughly connected his lips with yours, smirking inside when you moaned at the contact. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him deeper. his hands traveled up your spine, pushing you flush against his body. when the two of you pulled away, your eyes remained closed, a giddy smile on your face as you breathed out, "hell of a congratulations, castellan."

luke laughed, placing a quick kiss to your lips before turning to address the boy, "sorry, was i interrupting something?"

you had to cover your mouth to muffle the snort that came out of you. luke was staring at the boy intensely, lips in a tight line, as his hand squeezed the skin of your hip in possessiveness. the boy faltered, taking a step back in defeat. luke continued to shoot daggers at him, not deterred by the threat, or lack thereof, in front of him. eventually, the boy got the hint and walked away, shaking his head.

luke's cocky smirk was unstoppable as he faced you again, "great job, baby. national champ, again! look at you."

"thank you," you sighed, nuzzling your face into his neck. luke welcomed your public display of affection. "are we gonna talk about what just happened?"

he rolled his eyes, playfully, "nah, not worth it."

"yeah, but it was hot."

"then yes, let's talk about how hot you think i am."

"shut up," you replied, kissing him again. if this was your way of shutting him up, he wasn't going to complain.

[o-sachi]

Roses and Thorns ‧₊˚ ⋅ One Shot (Request)

ଳ you always wondered what what his tattoo meant... and now you know

ଳ character; michael kaiser (bllk)

ଳ tags; angst, more angst, but comfort at the end, depiction of Kaiser's trauma, no y/n, gn reader

Roses naturally came in colors of red, pink, yellow...

But never blue.

Yet, that was the same flower that adorned his arm. From his neck and down to the back of his hand, a beautiful blue rose littered his pallid skin. You always thought it was a captivating tattoo and in many ways—it was what made Kaiser... Kaiser.

Throughout your relationship, your perception of him changes and so does your idea about what his tattoo might mean. You could have asked him directly why he had it done, but where's the fun in that?

You liked the mystery and besides, he never talked about it in the first place.

That led you to think that it was one of those tattoos that people get on a whim. Not all tattoos had a deep meaning—sometimes it's just cool to look at.

Kaiser doesn't seem like the sentimental type after all. The only thing he probably cared about in this world was football and hopefully... you.

However, that view changed the longer you've been together. After seeing more sides to him, you realized how naive and insensitive it was to box him as the kind of person who had no capability to feel deeply for anything else.

The world may know him as an arrogant prodigy, but only you knew everything else behind that. You knew the tireless dedication he had to the sport—spending many restless nights watching replays of previous matches. You knew the vulnerable Kaiser whenever he'd spend weeks away from you—missing you all the way from his fancy hotel room.

But even then, you still had no idea what his tattoo meant. In fact, the more you got to know the true Kaiser, the more doubtful you became of the countless theories you've conjured up about his ink.

Nevertheless, you were firm in your belief that you knew him inside and out. The tattoo could remain a mystery for all you cared.

But roses always came with thorns and you had to learn the hard way.

It had been a couple of weeks since you've last seen each other. Being a football superstar was cruel. What people don't see behind the glamour are all the lonely nights he spends away from your arms.

As soon as he saw you standing in the doorway of your shared condo, he instinctively wrapped his arms around you. He swayed you side-to-side, inhaling your scent that had dulled in his memory after all this time being apart from each other.

After being absent for so long, all he wanted was to sit back and relax with you—no fancy dinners or grand dates. None of that. All he wanted was to be cooped up in your arms until he fell asleep, only to wake up again in the morning.

You indulge him, of course. You wanted it too anyway.

Both of you were now sat on the sofa. It was one of those L-shaped sofas you'd see in home magazines. They were large, but the space was wasted on the two of you since you'd much rather be cramped together in a suffocating embrace. It was better that way.

You absentmindedly traced the black stems of his tattoo as you held him—as you always did. Although, it was a bit odd. Normally, at this point he'd be going in and out of sleep—fighting back the drooping of his eyelids so that he could keep talking to you.

But he was wide awake.

"You don't seem tired tonight huh?"

He huffs out. "Chugging 2 energy drinks after lunch wasn't the best idea."

"Seriously? 2? What for?" you asked, a bit puzzled.

"I figured it would give me enough energy to at least hang out with you a bit before dozing off again, but I miscalculated. That shit was strong..."

Oh... How can you be mad now?

You could only chuckle at his thoughtfulness. "We could always catch up in the morning, y'know? It's not like I'm gonna disappear."

"Eh, still," he retorts, stubborn as ever. "We haven't had a movie night in a long time anyway."

He a had point. Back then movie nights were frequent. Both of you loved it—chilling, eating popcorn, and watching a good flick before bed.

It was good timing. Before his long-awaited arrival, you had been planning on how to surprise him in little ways. You wanted to keep him on his toes and it just so happens you figured out a way to spice up movie night.

You downloaded a bunch of old romantic German movies. It would be a lot different from the usual movies that you'd watch, but he might appreciate watching a movie from his own country. He had a preference for English movies, that much you knew. It was the only thing he'd watch for some unknown reason.

Excited—you hopped off the couch at lightning speed, ready as ever to retrieve the hard drive with all your downloads. As soon as you set everything up, you were back in your earlier position with him on the sofa.

"What's up with the hard drive? You forgot to pay for your streaming account?"

You shook your head with a smile. "No, I just have a surprise~"

"Surprise huh?" A small smile formed on his face at the thought. What could be so surprising about a movie?

The film starts off with a pitch black screen before a soft song filters in. He quickly recognized that it was German—it was a German love song.

He only needed to hear that to know what the "surprise" was.

Kaiser bit his lower lip in anticipation, not that you knew what exactly he was anticipating in the first place.

He wanted to be wrong—so wrong. He hoped that he wouldn't have to see her. The woman with beautiful long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes... the woman who most resembled him.

His mother.

But fate had a funny way of curbing expectations because she was right there on screen, smiling at him.

How cruel was it that the movie you chose—out of all the German movies out there—it had to be this one.

You were quick to notice the resemblance too. The eyes... the smile... they were practically the same. Perhaps he was aware of it too with how he stiffened in your grasp.

But before you could point it out, he had excused himself. "I'll just go to the bathroom for a sec... don't wait up for me."

The sudden change of the air around him was one thing, but for him to let the movie playing without him was another. He'd always ask you to pause it if he had to leave even for a millisecond.

...Did you do something wrong?

Worry filled you to your bones. It was unusual, sure. Maybe you were overthinking it. But the longer you stayed alone on the sofa—in the darkness of the room—the less you believed that you were being melodramatic.

Maybe there was something wrong with the way he turned rigid upon seeing that woman. Maybe there was something wrong about the way he abruptly stood up and left.

Your thoughts got the best of you and you decided to check up on him. In his haste, Kaiser forgot to lock the door. So, there you were��standing by the door and staring at him.

There was something definitely wrong with the way he clutched the bathroom sink as he breathed raggedly.

You could see how his fingers turned white as he gripped his arm, almost as if clawing at the rose etched on his arm.

"What's wrong?"

Your voice snapped him back to reality. Truthfully, he didn't know what was wrong. He thought he had gotten over it all—how his mother left him and how his father treated him. But he was wrong.

There was a reason he avoided those kinds of films. He was scared she'd pop up... looking happy.. acting happy—in a world where she didn't have to be concerned with her own son.

But that's precisely it. He chose to run away from it all instead of confronting it. So now that he was faced with her after all this time of avoiding anything that evoked the concept of her—he broke down.

And he hated that he had to do it in front of you.

But it was involuntary. Nothing could have prepared him for this.

His silence told you enough—all you had to know was that he needed your embrace. To which, you indulge him again.

You cautiously made your way over to him, hovering your arms around him at first before finally pulling him into you. The air stilled around you and time stopped for a moment. Neither of you moved a muscle or spoke a word—feeling content to stay like this for however long.

Eventually, he let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. He turned around to face you, unbothered if you had to see how glassy his eyes became or if his mouth was fixed in a frown.

All this suspense caused a pit to form in your stomach. Your chest felt hollow and your hands were clammy. If he stayed silent another second longer, the water works would've kicked into high gear.

"Sorry... did I scare you?" he asked while tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

Sniffling a bit, you wiped your eyes as if tears have already rolled down—though, it definitely felt as if it had. "I... no, I was just worried about you. What's wrong? Please tell me."

The way you pleaded at him clenched his heart painfully. Kaiser pulled you in, planting your face into his chest. His hand caressed your hair with his chin poking the top of your head as he embraced you softly.

"Do you believe in the impossible?" he asked.

All train of thought stopped in an instant. You didn't like that this confrontation you were having was slowly turning into one of those philosophical discourse about the meaning of life and whatnot. All you wanted to know was what happened to him—plain and simple.

"That woman on the screen," he continued. "That was my mother."

The normal reaction would be shock, but it made sense. Perhaps this wasn't developing into that philosophical discourse you dreaded.

"Back then I thought I'd never have to see her in person. Maybe in one of her films, but in the flesh? I would only dream of it. But then..." he chuckles, reminiscing of the past. "Not long after that thought... I came across her on the street. Well, more like I was loitering and she was surrounded by fans while she made her way into a hotel."

His expression dropped at the recollection of such a bittersweet memory. "She never looked my way. She only smiled at the people vying for her attention. But it's funny isn't it?"

You had no idea what was so humorous about it. The revelations were coming too quick for you to let it all sink in. Silence was the only response available from you.

"Then, a week after that, the police took me away from my father." He lets out a stifled laugh out of disbelief. "And back then I thought I'd never get away from him."

"The impossible always seems to happen," he adds.

His past was just too sad, almost like it was taken from a sappy telenovela. But the fact that it was real rendered you speechless. All you could do was hug him tighter to show him that you were still with him.

With an ear to his chest, you could hear how his heartbeat went from erratic to steady. Letting that all out had calmed him down, thankfully. You felt yourself growing relaxed as well. Your eyes wandered to his arm—to the rose that entangled his limb.

To answer his question earlier—no, you didn't believe in the impossible. It's called impossible for a reason. But the sincerity in his voice had you thinking otherwise.

Blue roses... those are impossible too, you thought to yourself as your eyes trailed his tattoo. It could be another one of your silly theories, but the coincidence was hard to deny.

His hands stopped caressing your head, choosing to find purchase on your lower back instead. This prompted you to look up at him and the sheepish smile on his face.

"And..." he started again. "I thought it would be impossible for me to be loved..."

"Yet, here you are."

[🐟]: HELP THIS IS SO CHEESY I'M SORRY. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SHORT BUT I GOT CARRIED AWAY.

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

o-sachi © 2024

[s-brant]

Little Dragon

In a the aftermath of a fight sparked by the feud between him and her brother, Lucerys, Aemond and his wife are now trying to fix things between them. (or judas part three)

10k (18+)

Warnings: smut, p in v, rough sex, knife play, choking, spitting in mouth, strong language, yandere (so basically canon) aemond, and some of the language used to describe past sex acts could be interpreted as dub-con, but everything is consensual.

-

Married life is not what she thought it would be.

Everyone told her their days would be spent in honeymoon-induced bliss that seems as though it will never end for the first year or so of marriage, but that wasn't their experience at all. When they weren't fucking, which was about all they did together, Aemond and Y/N were typically fighting for the first four months of being wed to one another. There were good moments, though. They bonded over shared interests that appeared the longer they lived in close proximity, and he began to open himself up to her little by little. It wasn't nearly as much as she wanted, but he still offered her more than he did most other people.

It was evident in the little things, such as how he would feel comfortable enough to take off his eyepatch at certain times when alone in her presence or how he would always, no matter how far apart they were when they fell asleep in his spacious bed, end up with an arm around her by the time they woke. But, then, there were the times when the wall between them would come down again and she was left wondering if her husband would ever speak freely in her presence.

As of late, it seems they are leaning more on the side of fighting rather than fucking.

Her temper has been running hotter than usual, so when she heard of an incident in the training yard between Aemond and Lucerys, who is visiting alongside Rhaenyra after a close call with Viserys' health that thankfully ended without complication, she was out for blood.

"Have you no shame, husband?" she asked as she walked after him, chasing and herding him in the direction of their shared chambers after having to watch her brother be tended to by the maesters. "I asked you to not harm him, and you ignored me at the first opportunity presented to you!"

This led to a screaming match that ended in him storming off to fly on Vhagar for the better half of the night before coming back to their chambers—soaking wet from the rain—ripping the sheets off of her, hiking her shift up around her waist, and fucking her until she was babbling and incoherent for him. It was a vicious fight masked by the actions of lust and passion. Her nails broke skin open on his pale back while his hand squeezed down around her delicate throat, providing her a heady little head rush that made the pleasure of his cock gliding in and out of her intensify.

The rainwater dripped off of him and onto her, turning the mattress damp beneath their writhing bodies. Not that either of them minded. By the time they finished, she was on the verge of passing out again and didn't do much other than sigh as he lifted her into his arms to move her around before setting her back down on the bed. Come morning, she found herself alone, but the bed was not cold or damp. Her side of the mattress was covered with a warm fur hide that had been draped atop the divan, and she couldn't help but smile to herself at that before she remembered their argument.

Aemond was never a cruel husband. If anything, he was the opposite. Their arguments did not mean he mistreated his lady. Yes, they would fight and fuck like animals, but, at the end of the day, she was his. In a world where he was granted nothing, not even a dragon's egg in the cradle as his siblings were, the Maiden had blessed him with her. Every other girl or woman balked in his presence, but not Y/N. She and Vhagar were the only things he ever had to himself, and he would never mistreat either of his dragons.

Hence, the fur hide.

As angry with each other as they were and, he knew, would continue to be on the morrow, his face softened when he came back from the bathing room to find her curled up in fetal position and shivering in her sleep from the wet sheets. She hardly stirred as he lifted her up, one arm under her bent knees and the other holding firm around her naked back, and walked over to the divan to fetch the warm fur hide. It took little effort for him to hold her as he picked it up and spread it out atop the bed, then set her down. It took him searching the room to find another blanket to cover her with, but, once he did, he sighed to himself at the sight of her and tried to resist the urge to reach down to brush her hair out of her face. What had she done to him?

He had little trouble falling asleep on the damp sheets and left early before she woke to avoid the consequences of the things they said to each other the previous night.

Since this morning, they haven't crossed paths much at all. For she was spending what little time she had left of their visit with her mother and brother, trying to conceal the turmoil within her caused by her marriage and, well...

"Are you certain, mother?" Y/N asked. "It is so soon, and I have only missed one of my courses thus far. It was just last month's, I am certain it will come again soon. I always feel sick to my stomach before my blood comes, and I have felt that way for days."

What she didn't want to tell her mother was that she already knew. Deep down, she knew the answer, yet she was too stubborn in their ongoing argument to want to admit to herself. Or him.

Rhaenyra smiled softly at her from where she braided her hair for her, something she would continue to insist on doing for her only daughter no matter how old she grew, and said, "Feeling sick to your stomach is an indication that you may be with child as well. Considering that you told me you missed one of your courses and you winced when Lucerys hugged you too hard upon our arrival"—It was true. When Luc threw his arms around her in a tight embrace, she couldn't help but grimace at the tenderness she felt in her breasts upon impact against him. And, the previous night, with Aemond, her nipples were uncharacteristically sensitive whenever he made contact with them, though she did not say that to her mother—"I do not think it out of the realm of possibility, my love...You should tell Aemond what you suspect."

Having told the handmaidens to leave them to their own devices, they did not have to bother with concealing their conversation from eavesdroppers by speaking in Valyrian. They simply sat together and spoke openly, and honestly, and Y/N was glad for it. It was the type of open communication she found difficult with Aemond due to his closed-off nature. It wasn't for lack of trying, either. She knew he tried as much as she did, but they both have too sensitive of tempers to get very far with civil discussion. Once they misunderstand one another's intentions, they lose control and allow emotion to guide them, not logic. Then, the truly hurtful things are said in the heat of the moment that neither of them means.

Since leaving her mother's rooms, she has wandered around the keep aimlessly to avoid the argument that will reignite once she sees Aemond again. So, she goes to the one place she knew she could flee to to clear her head. The Weirwood tree she once had a tendency to read under.

Yet when she finally sits down and settles into place with her back against the thick trunk, all she can think of is her husband. Although infuriated with him for the training yard incident in which he injured Lucerys, she cannot help but imagine what it would be like. She pictures him with a tiny, newly-born babe in his arms and feels her knees weaken at the thought. Then, her mind conjures images of their child a few years down the line, resting their head on his shoulder with their silver hair falling down his back to blend in with his. He may be perceived as an unfeeling man by most, but she knows he will be a decent father. A better one than her grandsire was to him, she's sure.

As fond as she is of him in the safety of her mind, hearing his voice out of the silence causes her to turn still.

"I thought I might find you here."

There's a brief moment of hesitation before she lifts her gaze to find his eye fixed on her quite intensely. After last night, she cannot blame him. They were two seconds from brawling one another in their chambers before he walked away to blow off steam by flying Vhagar late into the night, and what happened after he returned wasn't much less aggressive than the argument they engaged in hours prior. It did little to solve anything other than stifle their remaining anger.

"You were not there when I woke," she says without greeting him.

The unforgiving tone she takes with him tells him everything he needs to know. Despite their passionate, near-feral fucking last night, she has yet to forgive him for "accidentally" injuring Lucerys. Perhaps he made a mistake. Perhaps he shouldn't have taunted the younger man as they practiced in the training yard together, nor should he have let his retort turn him blind with anger, but it's too late to change that now. All he can do is try to navigate the rough tides of her temper in the aftermath, still shocked that he even cares. Never once would he have thought that he'd be so willing to bend himself to the will of his lady wife when he first spoke of betrothals with his mother years ago.

He doesn't dare to step any closer to her, though. Instead, he holds his hands behind his back and tilts his head as he looks down upon her face in the buttery daylight, fighting the admiration felt in the center of his chest at the sight of her silver hair glowing in the sun. Although he's trying to get back in her good graces, he still refrains from surrendering all of himself to her in order to do so. Sometimes it scares him; the urge he has to allow her to render him pathetic and subservient.

It confused him this morning when he fled to find his mother and sister breaking their fast together. Luckily for him, Helaena was leaving at the very moment he entered, leaving him alone with his mother in the privacy of her secluded rooms.

He paced back and forth in front of where she sat at the table, too distracted by his neurotic movements and ranting to indulge in her poached egg.

"You did not prepare me for this, mother," he said, not with any malice or anger, but honesty. When it came to his mother, he could never find it in himself to be anything but gentle with her. "She is driving me to madness."

A frown crossed Queen Alicent's face at this.

"You know I wanted to betroth you to one of the Baratheon daughters. Y/N may not be a good match for you, but it's far too late for a change of—"

He didn't even need to say a word. No, she was silenced by the look cast in her direction. His features hardened into a mask of impenetrable force and threat as if daring her, his own mother, to finish that sentence before he remembered himself and averted his gaze to the ground. Still, it was too late. She saw everything he fought to keep hidden beneath the surface every time he was in public in the presence of his wife.

"Oh," she said softly.

This wasn't something she thought she had to prepare him for, but he was right. She hadn't properly prepared him for it. Considering her own experiences with marriage, as well as most other royals and aristocrats who wed people for power or alliance, the thought never crossed her mind. But based on the look on his face and the embarrassment that now shows in his flushed cheeks, it should have.

"Aemond," Alicent said, her voice a quiet push of air before speaking up a bit more clearly to ask him, "Do you mean to tell me that you truly love her? Is that what this is about?"

The lack of response and refusal to make eye contact with her spoke every word he refused to say aloud. He simply stared off at the ground as if in amazement, wondering to himself how he ended up there. Although part of it felt wrong, wrong in the sense that he swore to never let his guard down around anyone, least of all the sister of the bastard that maimed him, there was so much of it that felt right. Though he would never have spoken of such crass things in the presence of his mother, he kept thinking back to the previous night—to how every touch, every thrust, every kiss felt so inherently right that he couldn't imagine himself wanting to galavant the Street of Silk as his older brother had. No, he wanted her. He wanted her in a way that consumed him, in a way that scared him, and it crept up on him slowly but surely in the months following the wedding ceremonies.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and said, "We do nothing but argue and...perform our marital duties to produce an heir...yet I find"—The words eluded him at first. Never having spoken about his emotions out loud to many people in his life, he found it difficult to articulate, but to get the advice he sought, he had to—"I cannot bear the thought of her being angry with me."

Those were the types of thoughts that chased him on his aimless stroll, ignoring every member of court who attempted to greet the sullen prince with a wary smile or pleasant few words. They chased him all the way here, to where he walked unconsciously and found the object of his incessant infatuation sitting beneath the tree.

Snapping himself out of the haze of his memories, Aemond straightens his shoulders and offers as explanation, "I left because I did not wish to fight with you again. I needed time to think." He shrugs. "I took a walk."

This silences her for a moment. But it's just that, a moment, before she's summoning the nerve to retort back at him with a snarky tone, "And what did this time to think do for you? Have you realized how much shame you've brought me as a result of your actions yesterday?" Her face then softens, as does her voice. "Everyone saw. It's all that the servants are talking about. Everyone either pities me or thinks I am weak for marrying someone who hurts my own kin."

Although his raging temper and unrelenting pride urge him to say something equally as aggressive back, he wills himself to remain silent and mindful of every word that may leave his mouth. The self-control it takes to restrain himself is immeasurable, but all he hears when he closes his eyes are the words of advice his mother gave earlier.

"I don't blame you for holding a grudge against Lucerys," she said, "but, she is your wife. If she asked you not to harm her brother, the honorable thing to do would be to listen."

His body stiffened at this. At the thought of letting anyone or anything tell him what he can and cannot do, but when he voiced such concerns, he was shut down.

"A wife is meant to obey her husband, yes, but if what you've come here to tell me is true, you must treat your marriage differently." Her eyes never once left him, nor did the intensity in them recede. "In order to receive obedience and respect, you must be willing to give it. Love is a fickle thing, Aemond. If you do not nurture it, it will become resentment."

There's a beat of silence between him and Y/N, then—

"I came here to tell you it will not happen again. I swear this to you."

That was the last thing she expected to hear. Not technically an apology, but, she supposes it's the closest she's ever gotten to one from him. Most of their fights end in them making up after sex or from the healing touch of time gone by. This is a first for them. They're both typically too stubborn to admit defeat, yet here he is.

Her brows furrow at him as if in confusion.

"You will not make any attempts to harm my brother again? Either of my brothers, for that matter."

He nods. Just once.

"Unless he makes the first move, I will not touch him," Aemond says slowly, hating every second of it but forcing himself to proceed for the sake of following his mother's advice. More importantly, for the sake of preventing any resentment from growing between them. "Or Jacaerys. You have my word."

And even though it's the outcome she longed for the whole time, she can't help but feel infuriated with him. How dare he be so...kind. How dare he give her a reason to genuinely admire him in favor of using their near-constant disagreements as reason to keep him at a comfortable distance? She never wanted to account for the fact that he may be more to her than a tolerated presence. She never wanted him to hold such power over her, and still...

Y/N takes in a deep breath, the low-cut neckline of her dress accentuating the rise and fall of her breasts, and looks up at him. What she finds in his gaze is pure honesty.

"Well, good." She chews at the inside of her lip for a second, unsure of how to proceed in light of these unforeseen circumstances. "Thank you for your understanding. I won't forget this kindness."

With that, he turns to leave, assuming she'd like to be left alone after everything they said and did to one another last night. He takes all of three steps before he's halted by the sound of her voice.

"Where are you going?"

He slowly turns back around to face her again and takes note of the hopeful glint in her eyes that he's never seen before. Strange...

"Do you not wish me to leave?"

No, she thinks, I do not wish you to leave. I wish to spend all day and night with you. If I could live beneath your skin, I would.

The obsessive nature of her thoughts startles her a little, but she tries not to judge herself too harshly. After all, she just got confirmation from the maesters after breakfast that she is, in fact, with child as Rhaenyra suspected, and the fluctuation of hormones tends to cause heightened emotions, so it makes sense. Not to mention, there's an added layer of intimacy that makes her feel closer to him now that she knows. A part of him lives within her. It's not something she takes lightly despite her initial trepidation surrounding the idea of childbirth in the weeks after their wedding ceremonies.

Y/N takes her time in responding, allowing herself the opportunity to stand from where she rested on the thick root of the Weirwood tree. Her palms flatten against the back of her dress to dust the dirt off, and it isn't until she's done so that she looks up at him again.

"I did not say that," she says matter of factly. "I was curious what you're doing today because I want to spend time with you. That is unless you have prior commitments to attend to..."

The speed with which he utters, "I don't," verges on the type of embarrassment severe enough to make him flee and hide, but he doesn't. He instead focuses on the fact that she actually wants to be around him after the fight they had, far too preoccupied to think about how pathetic it is that all he has to do today is mope around the Red Keep over her. Although they've had passion and fondness for one another in the months that have passed since they married, this is the first time he's ever felt truly wanted by her in a way other than that of carnal desire.

He prays the overwhelming relief hasn't reached his face by the time he elaborates, "I was only going to see Vhagar. She gets quite restless when she hasn't seen me, so I make a point to visit her every day even if we do not fly." There's a dip of silence. His face softens. "Come see her with me, then. I realize you two haven't been properly introduced."

The only times she got relatively close to Vhagar were when flying beneath her on Vermithor and when she and Aemond arrived at the keep at the same time those months ago before their betrothal. Unfortunately, she hadn't been lucky enough to know Vhagar's last rider, Laena Velaryon. Her father was wed to her, yes, but she never once met Daemon until her funeral at Driftmark, and that very night was when Aemond claimed the ancient war dragon for himself. So, in her eyes, Vhagar has always been intrinsically entwined with her husband.

She smiles at him, saying softly, "Okay."

The journey to the place outside the palace walls where Vhagar rests, too big for being kept inside the dragon pit as the other dragons are, is not too strenuous. Aemond made sure to show her the quicker route to the unoccupied land where they once held Queen Aemma's funeral rather than taking her through the streets of King's Landing, preventing her from being exposed to the indecent things that occur in plain daylight. Not that she hasn't done such things with him before, but for the people of the city to see their future queen anywhere near that type of behavior is not ideal.

The earth is soft beneath her feet as she hikes up the rolling hills with her hand grasped in Aemond's. His hold on her is strong, never allowing a chance for her to trip and fall or slip out of his clutches now that he so clearly has her full attention. A gentle wind blows strands of hair back from her face to cool her amidst the typically sweltering summer air. Back in the city, it's hotter due to the palace walls and droves of people, but, here, it's open and free. It's no wonder that Vhagar prefers to reside out where she can roam as opposed to the confined field outside the Dragonpit where she can hardly fit.

She hears her before she sees her, but once they come up over the crest of the hill, it isn't long before she sees the great beast lounging on the grass in the valley between the rolling hills. A Dragonpit of her own making, Y/N supposes. The closer they get to her, the more enchanted she becomes with the creature. Out of the corner of his remaining eye, Aemond notes the look of awe on her face as they come to a stop roughly ten feet away.

"Nyke maghatan ñuha ābrazȳrys kesīr naejot rhaenagon ao," he says loudly to be heard by her over the sounds of the wind and sea not far off from where they stand. I brought my wife here to meet you. "Sagon sȳz naejot zirȳla." Be kind to her.

The elderly dragon huffs out a sharp breath that Y/N can feel the warmth of reaching her face despite the decent space between them. Apparently, that's her cue, because Aemond is now looking at her expectantly and egging her on, daring her to do what no one else would. No one but them. It's part of what thrills him about their marriage. This is why Targaryen weds Targaryen, he thinks to himself. How else would they share this simple pleasure if she weren't also the blood of the dragon? Vhagar would tolerate her presence, sure, but not in the way she does with those of her own kind.

Having tamed the Bronze Fury herself and knowing her husband's dragon will obey his commands to be kind to her, she takes a few steps forward until she's close enough to reach her hand out and allow her to smell it. The scaled creature's nostrils flare out to inhale and catalog her rider's wife for the first time, but she's surprised at what she finds lingering in the scent. There's a bit of him in there. To her, his scent is the most alluring, the most comfortable since she's been claimed by him, so when she notices his scent clinging to Y/N's, her head tilts a little to get closer.

She sees a certain understanding in the beast's eyes despite the fact that they've never been properly introduced until now. Vhagar looks upon her with a reverence no one but Aemond and her previous riders have received. Your womb shelters a little dragon. You carry him inside of you.

Vhagar dips her head down and nudges her nose against the princess's belly, which, as of right now, is not showing any obvious sign of her delicate condition. This action doesn't seem to stick out to Aemond—thank the Gods—it seems to surprise him. To see his two dragons coexisting and displaying affection for one another is a magical thing, and it's something he will never forget. Not even when he's old and frail and can no longer patrol the skies on her.

The sweet gesture brings a chuckle out of Y/N's throat.

"Iksā sepār iā dōna riña, issi ao daor?" she says, reaching up to rub along the massive bridge of her nose. You are just a sweet girl, are you not? "Issa sȳz naejot rhaenagon ao, Vhagar. Ñuha valzȳrys ēza ivestretan nyke sīr olvie nūmāzma ao." It is good to meet you, Vhagar. My husband has told me so much about you.

Though Y/N cannot see it, Aemond smiles slightly behind her. He tries to fight it, but it's impossible. His lips curl up into a grin against his will at the sight of his wife and his dragon cozying up together much like a mother and child. And though Vhagar is old enough to be a grandmother many times over, she, for reasons Y/N has yet to reveal to him, decides to play the role of the child in this instance.

Before he can wipe the smile from his face, she turns to look at him with her eyes widened in wonder.

"She's beautiful." She then turns back to face her. "Iksā gevie, dōna riña." You are beautiful, sweet girl.

"Are you ready to ride with us? You must climb up first. I will sit behind you."

This time, when she turns around to look at him, her gaze does not stray.

"Are you jesting?"

He just shakes his head, smug at the sign of her hesitation after trying to present herself as bravely as possible to his beloved beast. Silver hair cascades over her shoulders and shimmers, even under a cloudy sky, enough so that he has a hard time finding words in the wake of his longing for her.

"I do not jest about dragons," he says with a sadistic look in his eye. If he were being honest, he'd admit that he hardly jests about anything, least of all Vhagar. "But if you are craven, then I do not mind escorting you back to the keep."

That shocked expression of hers shifts into one of amusement.

"I claimed Vermithor when I was two and ten years old, the same year you claimed her, when he was a wild dragon living in the mountain caverns on Dragonstone. Does that sound like the actions of someone who is craven?"

He inclines his head in the direction of Vhagar as though to say, "Prove it."

It takes no less than five seconds for her to spin around and march right up to the side of the dragon, grabbing the rungs of the rope ladder slung over her back to allow small beings like them to scale the massive creature. The skirt of her dress blows in the wind enough to expose her legs to him but not to expose her entirely as she climbs, thanking the Gods that she opted for a pair of riding boots instead of the heels she wore with her dress originally. Once she has reached the saddle, she feels the rope ladder jolt with movement far below and swings her leg over to straddle the dragon. And when she looks down, she sees Aemond climbing up after her.

The feeling of his hard, lean body settling into place behind her stirs a sudden pulse of arousal in the pit of her abdomen. This is very new to her—marriage, sex, intimacy. To feel her husband's hands grip her hips to tug her into him, her ass pressing against his crotch without an inch of space to spare, is a welcomed but scandalous thing. Still, it pleases her. Even though she was taught to guard her heart and body fiercely from men growing up, she feels safe with him. Riding on any dragon other than Vermithor or Caraxes would be stressful, hence her hesitation when he asked her to ride with him, but now that she's up here, she is at ease. For nothing can frighten her with Aemond at her side.

His lips brush her ear as he reaches around her waist to put his hands over hers on the handles of the saddle and asks, "Are you ready, my lady?"

She turns to look at him and nods.

"Yes."

The grip of his hands over hers tightens, and he shouts, "Sōvēs!" Fly.

Beneath them, the creature they sit on begins to move, a deep rumble purring in the back of her throat as she moves from her lounging position upon the grass and gets a running start to take off. The flapping of her wings is loud enough to stifle the crashing of the waves against the land, isolating them from everything that surrounds them until all she can hear is her husband's voice giving Vhagar commands in Valyrian. The strength of the arms wrapped around her brings her mind back to memories of last night—his biceps flexing as he pinned her hands above her head and rutted into her, groaning at the feeling of tight cunt clamping down around him.

With another flap of her wings and push off the ground from her sturdy legs, they take off. Wind blows cold against her face where it comes in from the shore they swiftly fly over, and Vhagar swoops down to dip her clawed feet into the ocean water, sending up a spray of water that mists over them. The temperature draws a sharp gasp from Y/N's throat. Water soaks her intricately braided hair and the fabric of her dress, both of which things she spent time picking out only to have them tarnished. But, she thinks as she feels Aemond's body jolting from his laughter behind her, she does not truly care.

She laughs with him after a few seconds of processing the surprise, allowing her head to tip back onto his shoulder with the wind plastering her damp hair to her skin. Aemond's hands have since left hers to use the reins to steer Vhagar, but his arms remain tucked around her waist even as he does so. They turn around to fly back in the direction of the city and soar far higher above the ground than they had the sea. Although he does not usually push Vhagar to fly this way for a quick rush of adrenaline due to his care for the old girl, he does today. He knows better than anyone that a person only gets to have their first ride upon Visenya's dragon once in their lives, so he figures it might as well be as exciting for her as it was for him.

He remembers that moment like it was yesterday. The warmth of the fire curling in the back of her throat when he tried to mount her at first and got off with a warning, the stinging abrasion from gripping the reins and saddle for dear life to keep from falling to his death, and the joy of that freshly made bond between him and Vhagar. It isn't too different from what he feels with Y/N now at the beginning of their marriage. A visceral connection that takes hold deep in his soul and refuses to untether from it.

The view from above King's Landing is beautiful to her. With the waves crashing against the cliffs alongside the Red Keep and the clouds converging not far above their heads, she thinks to herself that it would make a fine painting someday and makes sure to save the image in the back of her mind for it.

It isn't until they feel the first drops of rainfall, accompanied by a booming roll of thunder, that Aemond commands Vhagar to return to the hills where she previously rested. The ground itself trembles with her landing, dirt kicking up from beneath the grass where her clawed feet dig into the earth. Although they are damp from the ocean water that sprayed up on them, the rain that is coming down now is fierce. It could chill them to the bone if they remained up in the sky, and while Aemond does not mind, he surely will not subject his lady to such a thing. It matters not that she rides her own dragon, sometimes in the teeth-chattering cold of rainy skies. She is his wife and shall be treated accordingly.

The two of them are quick to climb down the rope ladder as droplets of rain come down harder and harder as the seconds pass, and the moment her feet hit the ground, they both hurry beneath one of Vhagar's outstretched, membranous wings to take shelter from the storm until they can walk back to the city.

Her hand is grabbing onto Aemond's arm for support, allowing him to swing her around under the shade provided by his dragon's wing, and she smiles so brightly, he's shocked it has yet to blind his other eye. Their bodies collide with a soft thump—his arms around her waist, her hands bracing against them—that leaves them both a little breathless. Her chest rises when his falls in a push and pull like that of the tides they flew over in the long span of seconds that pass while they stare at one another.

It's the internal aftermath of this heated stare that sends them rushing forward into a kiss.

His hands hold her face with a sense of ownership too confident to deny, and she allows his tongue to invade her mouth when she feels him lick at her closed lips as if in request. And the moment is quite easy for her to become lost in. Between him kissing her like that and the adrenaline pumping through her from the ride on dragonback, she almost misses how they move together, feet stumbling to lead them further beneath the cover of Vhagar's massive wing so as to not be seen should anyone venture out here. The implication of this action turns her blood hot with desire.

He doesn't want to be seen—he bites down on her lower lip and takes a breath before coming back for more—he wants me—one of his hands slides around the back of her neck to keep her locked into the messy kiss while the other slides down the front of her dress—he has me. Gods, he has me.

The hand descending the front of her body undoes the clasps of her coat with a deft touch so few men ever accomplish until it comes loose around her torso, leaving her to shimmy it down from her shoulders while he tugs at the sleeves to get them off. His other hand drops to catch it, never missing a beat, and tosses it down on the ground presumably for her to lay upon. As if she cares about a little dirt or rain.

Aemond breaks the kiss by a fraction of an inch to whisper the question into her mouth between panting breaths, "Will you have me?" and it's by far the most restraint he has shown in initiating physical intimacy with her. Last night he had stormed in and fucked her like it was a challenge, like she was something to be conquered and broken and willed into submission. This, however, is a far cry from that. It's almost...gentle. That is if anything he does can be considered gentle.

The unspoken continuation of that question is, Will you have me after last night? After everything? And in answer, she kisses him harder and reaches for the buckle of his belt. It is weighed down by the weight of the fine sword and knife he carries in two sheaths attached on either side, but once she gets him free of it, it troubles her no longer. It simply clatters to the ground beside her discarded coat without another thought given to it.

What happens from here on is hazy to her in the way most distant memories are, but the difference is that she finds it hazy as she experiences it, not due to the passing of time. It's likely a combination of everything she's endured for the past forty-eight hours, the knowledge of her pregnancy weighing down upon her shoulders, and the feral lust felt for Aemond deep within her, but there's something about it that addles her brain similarly to when she drinks a cup of wine.

Somehow, they end up on the ground together with him slotted between the legs she opened so willingly for him and her pinned beneath the weight of his body. Her dress is not cut in half as it was on her wedding night seeing that they have to return to the Red Keep on foot. The skirts are pulled up though, and his lips leave kisses along her cleavage as he ruts his clothed cock against her. Feeling how hard he is, feeling what she alone does to him, brings pulsations of need to her already aching cunt.

That was another thing that surprised her about marriage. How little time it takes for him to arouse her beyond reason. Whenever she pleased herself, she had to work to get herself wet enough to lubricate the movement of her fingers, but he gets it done in a matter of seconds. All he has done is kiss her and shed her coat from her body and here she is.

It takes him a despicable amount of time to undo his trousers and shove them down his legs, so much so that she cannot help but move her hips up against nothing and whine, "Kostilus, valzȳrys." Please, husband.

And, fuck, if he claims that sight isn't what it takes to urge him on quicker through the act of undressing, he's a fool and a liar.

Aemond balances his weight on the forearms pressing onto the ground on either side of her when he finally nudges at her entrance with his tip and, once he feels it slip inside of her, presses his hips forward until they are flush with the back of her thighs. At the same time that he groans, she gasps. The blunt edges of her fingernails dig into his shoulders enough that he can feel it through his clothing. Her jaw goes slack at the indescribable feeling of his cock filling her, buried deep enough that she thinks she can feel him in her belly, and she allows her head to tilt back onto her coat as she looks up into his eyes.

He can hardly keep control of himself when she looks at him like that. There's a part of him that wants to pin her arms above her head and take her the way he had last night, but the softness in her gaze gives him pause. It soothes him. Seeing her look upon his face like that makes him take it slower with her, drawing back and thrusting back in at a relaxed pace that is more of a sensuous grinding than it is outright fucking. It's tender, caring, and much different than any time they've done this in the past. While he isn't always rough with her, he also isn't as sensual and sweet as he is now. No, this is new. Wholly new.

He leans down the rest of the way to kiss her, allowing half the weight of his body to keep her in place now that there's no space left between them. The only time he halts their exploration of each other's mouths is to whisper in a hushed slur of strung together words, "Mmm, taking it so well—"

The praise is punctuated with a hard returning thrust. He felt her walls squeezing around his cock from the sound of his voice alone, and there was little he could do to prevent himself from succumbing to what his cunt-struck excuse for a brain wanted him to do. He is, in every other situation, a man who takes pride in his intelligence and well-nurtured education as a member of the royal family, but all of that is scattered to the winds when he's inside of her. Aegon would tease him mercilessly if he were to ever discover that his brother's sole weakness is, despite Aemond's refusal to discuss the topic with him, his wife's pretty cunt.

Y/N wraps her arms around his shoulders and keeps him trapped in the little prison of her own making as she is being ravished by him. The familiar sensation of pleasure building in the pit of her stomach draws a moan out of her, and he can't help but make it harder and faster. But through the haze of this intense gratification, she sees his face above hers and is reminded of the previous night. When they'd taken their anger out on each other as a result of their fight. As a result of what he did to her sweet brother.

Her features harden at the thought, the soft smile vanishing as she takes thrust after thrust with little gasps that escape without her permission, and she can almost sense the fiery spirit that lives within her—the sleeping dragon—rising from its slumber in response to the anger. Suddenly, she remembers who she is. She is the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon. She is not so easily placated.

The leg that is wrapped around his hip is used to help her flip him onto his back along with the force of her hips pressing up against his and the hands she placed on his shoulders. Her hands remain there for the first moment she spends perched on top of him like this, gripping hard to give her leverage while she begins to ride him. The surprise is evident in his remaining eye, but he does not stop her or make any discomfort known. If anything, he likes it a little too much. To see her like this...

She takes him even deeper than before with this new change in position. Every time her hips come down on his, the broad tip of his cock brushes the sweet spot inside of her and sparks a kind of pleasure far more overwhelming than the kind she gets when he rubs the overly sensitive nub at the top of her folds. He reaches for her hips reflexively once he realizes why she moved him so suddenly, but she shakes her head and pins his arms down by the wrists above his.

In response to this, there's a strange war that is waged in his mind.

Part of him isn't sure what to think, another part wants to take back control and gain the upper hand as any good fighter would, and the other...Well, the other part is the one currently in control. It's the part of him that cannot think about anything save for the sight and feeling of her fucking him, trembling and moaning like a wanton whore. It isn't long before this haze wears off and he begins to come to his senses though. The wrists pinned against the ground push back against the hands holding them captive as though to test her strength, readying to break free in order for him to pull out and flip her over onto her hands and knees.

He can already feel the words on the tip of his tongue, "If you want to behave like a whore, I will treat you like one."

But he doesn't get to say them. Apparently, his wife is already one step ahead of him, and when she witnessed the muscles in his arms flexing in preparation to take back control, she made her move. All he heard was the sound of steel sliding against steel, the knife that he hadn't thought twice of allowing to fall to the ground being ripped from its scabbard, before the sharp tip of the blade is pointed at his throat. One of her hands keeps holding his wrists down even though they both know he could break free if he pleases while the other is wrapped around the hilt of the blade.

He would open his mouth to speak, but he knows he'll get cut if he does, so he just stares up at her with an incredulous expression.

"Swear on your life," she says, moaning before speaking again from the feeling of cock sliding into her. Her breaths are shallow, her chest heaving, as she cants her hips and rides him harder. "Swear you won't hurt them again. If you don't, I shall let this pierce your throat, and we can be finished with this feud."

Her body leans down enough that her chest brushes his with every exchange of air exhaled and inhaled in the limited space between their mouths.

She croons, "Is it not enough they gave me to you? If you are owed a debt"—another moan—"is it not now paid? It is not an eye for an eye but believe me when I say the idea of you defiling me is worse to my dear brother than being maimed."

The stirring sensation within him begins to crescendo as a result of her brutal pace and everything she says. At this point, his brain is no longer in control of him. The ecstasy he feels is too great for him to string together a coherent thought outside of variations of, "She is utterly divine, she is perfect, she is—"

Once again, he finds himself thinking that this is why it had to be her. This is why it had to be someone as wild as him. All it takes to frighten most other women from noble birth is a sharply edged sentence or harsh glare, but she is the type of person to hold a blade to his throat while performing the most intimate act of devotion that exists, and if being driven to that degree of madness by your feelings for a person isn't love, then he doesn't know what love is.

"Did you never think about it?" Based on the look in his eye, he hadn't considered what she just said to him, and it makes her smirk. "Your distaste for him must not run as deep as you claim if you have never taken pleasure in being the one to claim his sister." She laughs quietly. "They all thought you would be cruel, that you'd be a selfish husband who'd use me to warm your bed and nothing else"—his cock twitches in her—"Little do they know, you are the one they should be worried for. No one is near to witness what I may do to you, and here you are. Trapped beneath me with your own knife to your throat and your cock inside me."

Gods help him. Every word she says is fuel to the fire. What a filthy mouth.

At last, she pulls the tip of the knife back an inch or so to allow him to speak without cutting himself, and he never breaks eye contact with her throughout the process. Not once. All it takes is her raising a brow to spur him into speaking the words she wants to hear. And once the words leave his mouth, she knows they are binding. Unlike his older brother, she knows Aemond to be a man of his word, and if he swears something to her, she can trust him.

"I swear," Aemond says, breathless, although his features are set with a harsh rage to counteract the softness in his voice. "I will not hurt them."

They're both interrupted by their own need to suck down breaths of air to compensate for the exertions of their bodies, but he still refuses to look away. He refuses to surrender and let her think she has frightened him despite his willingness to abide by the promise she requested and allow her to think she's the one in control. And now that he's sworn this to her, she taunts him for the fun of it.

"What do you think Sir Criston would say if he saw his best swordsman in such a vulnerable position?" She makes a tsk sound. "I think he would be quite disappointed to see how you let your—"

In a movement strong and swift enough that she cannot process it until it is done, Aemond twists the knife out of her grasp and has her on her back in a matter of seconds. The blade is pressed to her neck, not quite cutting but pressing in just enough for her to feel the threat of it there, and her throat bobs against the sharp side of the blade when he forces her mouth open with his fingers pressing on her soft cheeks.

He says, only warning her once, "Never say another man's name when I am fucking you," and does not hesitate before spitting in her mouth.

The same fingers that pressed on her cheeks to force her mouth open force it shut again, clamping down over her kiss-swollen lips to make her swallow his spit, and once he sees her do so, he tosses the knife aside and devotes his full attention to worshipping her. His lips smear against hers in a sloppy kiss to match the haphazard, pounding strokes he makes into her now that he can feel himself getting close. With every sharp thrust, she cries out and holds tighter onto him to keep him close.

Aemond continually hits that perfect spot within her and never lets up, groaning and trying his hardest not to come before she does. She is close. He can feel it in how her cunt spasms around him, clenching and unclenching in the way it always does before she is sent over the edge. All she needs is a few more thrusts, so he brings his arms down to rest on either side of her head and cages her in so all she can see is him and him alone, forced to look upon his face as she finds her peak.

"Ossēninna mirre vala qilōni māzigon rȳ īlva. Mirre vala ao qogralbar tolie than nyke morghūlilza. Ao sytilībagon naejot nyke," he says in the language of their ancestors because he does not know if he can be so honest in the common tongue. Valyrian provides an added privacy that is a comfort to them both. His voice is a low hum that runs along her skin like a tender caress, and that is all it takes for her to come undone, hearing what he said over and over in her mind. I will kill any man who comes between us. If you fuck anyone else, they will die. You belong to me.

Y/N's jaw falls open in a gape as it hits her, harsh and unforgiving in its brutality but plentiful in its euphoria. The rush is unlike any other climax she has had with him in the past likely due to everything that preceded it. Although she has thoroughly enjoyed every time she's been with him before, this is on a different dimensional scale. Hearing him say that she belongs to him, that he's willing to kill any man who poses a threat to their marriage...to think that she has brought the great Aemond Targaryen to his knees is intoxicating.

The feeling of her cunt clamping down around his cock like a vice brings him to his end much quicker than he anticipated, and he groans as he spills into her.

All he can think to himself is that he is lucky. He is lucky to have a wife that he formed a connection with, lucky to have a wife that makes him feel things he didn't know he could feel. It's difficult to imagine being bound by blood to anyone but her. Whenever he passes by noble married couples, he can't help but feel pity for them. They do not know what it is to love a person with every part of their soul, even the part that hates them.

Aemond and Y/N are panting for air with their foreheads pressed together once they've begun to come down from their respective climaxes, and she cannot do anything but hold onto him as her heart rate begins to slow down again. She can see in the way he looks at her that it was different for him this time too, that he could feel what she felt between them, and to think that it doesn't scare him off...

He collapses onto her chest with a tired sigh and allows her to cradle his head against her, her hand stroking his hair in a soothing pattern that lulls him into a state of peace.

-

The flames burning in the fireplace crackle and surge when the servant tending to them for the night adds another log, then bows her head toward where Aemond sits before exiting their rooms. From the room over, he can hear Y/N humming to herself as she prepares herself for a night of rest. They were both so thoroughly worn out from their prior exertions that they slept together beneath the cover of Vhagar's wing for the better part of an hour before heading back to the Red Keep.

Shockingly, neither of them felt the need to talk about what they experienced this afternoon. There was no overly-emotional profession of feelings or official conversation about what shifted between them, but they both recognized it to themselves. By the time they returned, Queen Alicent had already been looking for them for an hour, and her eyes nearly bulged out of her head at the sight of them walking through the halls together with stifled laughter and rain-soaked clothes.

It was when they reached the staircase she was walking down that Aemond met her gaze and gave her a slight nod. That was all the confirmation she received on the state of her youngest child's marriage before they disappeared to clean off and ready themselves for dinner, which they managed to drag themselves out to share with Alicent and Helaena as per the former's request. And when the queen watched them interact at dinner, she couldn't help but smile to herself as she sipped her wine.

Now, it's late at night, and Y/N is brushing out the long strands of silver hair that cascade down her shoulders. The only item of clothing covering her is a thin chemise, and as she sets the brush down on the table beside her, her eyes are drawn to her stomach. A tentative hand slides down the front of it, keeping the white fabric flat against her body, and rubs the imperceptibly small bump residing there that she blamed on natural weight gain or bloating.

Deep down, she supposes she already knew. She can already pinpoint the time she thinks did it—when he woke her up with his head between her thighs before fucking her right there. It was early in the morning before any servants would come knocking, and she was still half-asleep when he spent his seed in her. As she fell back to sleep with his release dripping from her sensitive cunt, she recalls feeling the large palm of his hand settling over her belly to keep her back pressed to his chest. It was almost as if he knew too.

This morning, she couldn't imagine telling him what the maesters confirmed, but now...

She walks out past the bed to the main area of the room where they spend their time either reading, drinking, or talking before it is time to sleep. Her footfalls are quieter than usual, yet he can still hear her approaching from behind, and when she leans down with her arms wrapping around his shoulders to kiss his cheek, he does not flinch in alarm. All he does is offer a hum of approval, eye fluttering shut in appreciation of his wife's gentle touch.

There's a short pause during which she stands and wrings her hands in front of her where he cannot see, then moves around to the front of the chair and sits on his lap. Her legs are bent over the arm of the chair with her side pressed to his chest and her arm draped over his shoulders.

"Aemond?"

He turns his attention from where it had been fixed on the fire onto her. No verbal response is granted to her, but she knows from months of living alongside him that this is his way of telling her to say whatever it is that's on her mind.

Her next exhale trembles a little.

"Um," she stammers, unsure of how to break the news other than coming right out and saying it. "I went to see the maesters this morning..." Her bottom lip is drawn between her teeth as she tries to summon the courage to say it. "Iksan lēda riña." I am with child.

The typically harsh stare set on her face softens with these few words. Just like that, her nerves dissolve into nothing, and she is left to wonder how she had been so scared to tell him this morning. Of course, his reaction would be a pleasant one. He is nothing if not a duty-driven man. Providing his family with more potential heirs is a cause for celebration, even as a second son. Another way to fulfill his duty with his lawful wife, unlike Aegon who has fathered bastards with common whores and neglected his wife. And now that he has discovered a new side to his relationship with her, the idea of her bearing his children is sentimental in a way he hadn't expected it to be in the past.

Aemond's lips curl into a slight smile, his face leaning forward through the space between them to brush her nose with his. The hand not placed against her back comes down to rest upon the barely-there swell of her belly that serves as the only physical evidence of this good news.

"I know."

Her body still atop his. Seconds later, she tries to move to stand up only to be stopped by his strong arms holding her in place.

"You know?" she asks, face flushed with heat.

The emotion present on her face, he notices, is embarrassment. Whatever for, he does not know, but he's quick to settle her down once he notices. His fingers tuck her hair behind her ear, combing through it the same way hers had done with his when he collapsed onto her after their passionate coupling. A wry chuckle escapes him at her shock.

He says, "Did you think I had not noticed when you missed your blood? We share a bed, ñuha jorrāelagon"—My love. Her heart may have skipped a beat—"I would be stupid if I had not known."

Her mind is sent reeling from this.

She missed her blood at the beginning of the last moon, and she would be due for her next bleeding any day now if she were not with child, so...has he known this whole time? Wait, no. More importantly, he cares enough to make note of things like that? He may have said it as though it was obvious, as though every husband would notice, but he is far different from most of the men in this city. She is willing to bet an absurd sum of coin that her grandsire Viserys never paid such attention to the queen, nor does Aegon to Helaena.

He and his brother have vastly different marriages. For one, Aegon and Helaena live separately. She and Aemond do not. They have only consummated their marriage out of necessity for the sake of continuing the bloodline, meanwhile, she has not needed to take Aemond to bed every night. She simply wanted to. And that is the difference. That is the thing she had yet to realize in her denial of his feelings for her. They were wed for the sake of unifying their families, yes, but it is not a marriage that subsists solely on duty. At least, not anymore.

Y/N looks at him like she does not believe he is real.

"You"—she shakes her head as if to dispel her disorganized thoughts and allow her to speak with clarity—"I did not know you paid attention to me that closely."

He is countering back in a matter of seconds, running the tips of his fingers up and down the length of her back, "Nyke daor dohaeragon nykēla." I cannot help myself.

The crackling of the flames not far from where she is perched atop his lap fills the gaps of silence left between them. It allows her to consider the past day or so with the care she was not capable of in the midst of her anger. It was difficult to navigate, and she feels terrible for her brother, but she thinks it may have been a necessary hardship for them to overcome as husband and wife. The issue of their families would not have been settled with them ignoring it as they used to and pushing aside their feelings for the sake of the marriage. It had to be faced at some point, and now that it has, she feels lighter. The weight has been lifted from her shoulders.

Her hand then drops to rest atop the one he has placed over her belly, and she looks down at their entwined fingers with a tender smile blooming on her face.

"Nyke pendagon se rūs iksis riña," she says. I think the babe is a girl. "Skoros gaomagon ao pendagon, valzȳrys?" What do you think, husband?

-

A/N: let me know what you think :) thanks for reading

Tag List: @m-indkiller, @tinykryptonitewerewolf, @hopebaker, @bcon24, @eleganttravelercloud, @aemond-targaryenx, @the-blue-banshee, @saramayu, @merakiaes, @its-sam-allgood, @grungegrrrl, @singitoutgirl26, @scarlettmoon98, @cicaspair418, @itisjustwhatitis, @cl-0-vr, @d34d-4c1d, @hargrovehoe, @vainillasmil157, @leahjean, @captainweirdo42, @magnificantmermaid, @dark-night-sky-99, @kaicyl, @ladybug0095, @bellaisasleep, @blackravena, @isaxbella749, @reneki, @heylosers06, @izzicle, @bucky-thorin-winchester, @hangmanscoming, @harrypotteranna23-blog, and @shintax-error​.

[like-a-diamondinthesky]

used to this | l.m.h

-> the first i love you m.list

pairing... bf!minho x gn!reader tags... fluff, soft moment with minho 🥹, established relationship

the soft voices, the late-night cuddling, the sweet and fluttering affections you showed each other; man, minho could get used to this.

wc... 777 words a/n... look i know i said felix would be next but i rly liked how this turned out like it's just short and sooo sweet! which i think represents minho a lot HAHAHA,, i hope you enjoy <3 (also thank you so much for 700 followers ily guys so much istg)

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You and Minho have been seeing each other for a couple of months and it's been great. You just click, you fit together, you're a match! You even have a little tradition where he comes over to your place every week and the two of you watch a movie, show, anime, or whatever content interests you that night. Tonight, Minho chose to watch Spirited Away because, surprisingly, he'd never seen it before.

You've watched this movie many times before and it was one of your comfort films, but right now, you just weren't too invested in it—not when you already had all the comfort you needed from the person you were watching it with.

As the TV screen illuminated the dark living room, you sat on the couch, eyes unfocused and mind elsewhere. Minho was lying on his side with his head resting on your lap, an act of affection he had only recently made a habit of.

Absent-mindedly, you began playing with Minho's hair, running your fingers through the soft tufts. He made a sound—not so much a hum, but rather more akin to a purr—and leaned into your touch. "That feels nice," he remarked softly.

You giggled at his light, gentle voice, one that he only ever uses with you (and his beloved cats). As you continued petting his head, you pulled your phone out to capture your cute interaction. After taking several photos, you put your phone away, directing your eyes back to the screen in front of you.

No matter how hard he tried, Minho couldn't get himself to stay awake. He found his eyelids getting heavier and heavier, the feeling of your fingers in his hair lulling him to sleep.

When you noticed the absence of comments from your boyfriend, you leaned forward to check if he was awake. Upon seeing Minho sound asleep, eyelids closed and mouth slightly parted, your gaze softened and your previously furrowed brows fell. Only he could make you melt like that.

You paused the movie and turned off the TV. Carefully, you lifted Minho's head off your lap so that you could move to lay down properly next to him. Subconsciously, he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, causing a soft gasp to escape your mouth. ‘God, he's adorable,’ you thought as you wrapped one arm around his back, bringing your other hand to play with his hair once again. After a few minutes, you, too, fell asleep with your boyfriend in your arms.

A few hours later into the night, Minho opened his eyes to find you laying on top of his body, snuggled into him, as he had his arms wrapped around your waist. The only light in the room was from the street lamp outside the window, which cast tall shadows onto your sleeping face. He doesn't quite know how you both ended up in this position, but he didn't mind at all.

Curious about the time, Minho felt around his pocket for his phone but didn't find it. Craning his neck towards the coffee table, he saw it resting atop the surface, far from his reach. Patting his hand around your leg, he felt your phone in your pocket and took it out to check the time. The clock read 1:43 AM, answering Minho's concerns. Too sleepy to notice your new wallpaper, he returned your phone to your pocket. Perhaps he'll notice the image of your fingers threaded in his tousled hair that takes residence on your lock screen another time.

Minho leaned down to press a light kiss on your forehead, causing you to stir. You rubbed your head against his shoulder, tightening your grip around his torso. "That tickles," you whispered against his skin, eliciting a warm smile to appear on his face.

At that moment, Minho realized exactly how tightly you had him wrapped around your finger. He could get used to the weekly movie nights ending in snug cuddles on the couch, the soft and sleepy kisses you exchange when you wake up, and the hushed voices you use to speak to one another when curled up together. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, for as long as you'd let him.

"I love you," he whispered, so quietly that you would've thought it was your own imagination. You lifted your head and let your gaze track from his eyes to his lips, then back to his eyes. In the same soft tone, you whispered back, "I love you too, baby." You reached up and kissed Minho, earning a satisfied hum from him.

Yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

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taglist: @jinnixxn @elllisaaa

comments, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated! © like-a-diamondinthesky 2023

[wileys-russo]

insomniac II k.mccabe x reader

kinda love this, kinda hate this. based around the request here insomniac II k.mccabe x reader

you sighed quietly as your eyes started to ache, latched wide awake and glaring up at the ceiling, counting sheep no longer working as it never did.

you'd tried everything under the sun to settle enough to sleep for more than a broken half hour, it never worked. there was always a small part of you that was wired, buzzing and alight with an energy that came from god knows where.

you'd tried medication of course at the advice of your doctor but it just left you feeling spaced out and drowsy, often waking up just as tired as if you'd stayed awake through the night anyway.

your mind ticked over and over thoughts swirling round your head like fish in a pond, never stopping or slowing always just going around and around no real destination or end in sight.

it was always at its worst when you had something to fixate on and tomorrows derby was exactly that. your worries and doubts about your performance crept in, picking and picking and picking at every little insecurity or doubt or worry that crept in with your walls down and at your most vulnerable.

then you were bold enough to tap your phone, big mistake.

3:47am.

you silently screamed, dragging your hands down your face, now somehow even more awake with the glaring reminder of the time, your alarm set for 8:30am.

your hand hovered on the bedside table, fingers just inches away from your phone as you bit down on your bottom lip. you knew she would be here in ten minutes flat despite living double that distance away, foot to the floor at your beckoned call.

you normally slept soundly with your girlfriend beside you, her strong arms wrapped around you, slender fingers carded through your hair and the repeated steady thumping of her heartbeat lulling you into the most dreamless sleep you could ever wish for.

but that didn't mean it happened every single time, and you knew better than to mess with katie's sleep schedule as well as your own. so on the nights before matches you always had some sort of excuse prepared why you couldn't spend the night with her, and you weren't sure katie believed all of them, but she never pushed you about it.

6:52am.

you suddenly jolted back awake, a sudden chilling anxiety creeping in that you'd overslept you were quick to tap your phone, groaning loudly seeing the time, having only fallen asleep around a quarter to five.

giving up with a sigh you kicked off the covers, sending them flying to the floor with a soft thump as you swung out of bed, rubbing your face and leaving your phone to charge. grabbing your blanket off the ground you wrapped it around you and padded out to the living room.

you collapsed onto your lounge with a deafeated sigh, wrapped in your doona like a burrito as you clicked the tv on, settling for the cooking channel knowing it wasn't something you'd be too focused on watching.

"baby? darlin?" your eyes fluttered awake hearing a voice faintly calling your name, though assuming it was some sort of dream you settled yourself again. "jesus christ here ya are!" but they shortly opened again as the voice grew louder, and you blinked tiredly seeing a blurry figure looming over you.

"hey. did you sleep here?" hands softly grabbed your face as you blinked again and suddenly your girlfriends worried face was hovering near yours as she knelt down by the lounge.

"no i just...just dozed off. what time is it?" you asked groggily, barely able to keep your eyes open as katies frown deepened. "ten. you were a no show for breakfast, i was worried something happened to ya." katie spoke quietly, thumbs stroking your flushed cheeks.

"oh shit! i'm so sorry." you exhaled, shooting up suddenly as her hands fell to her sides and you rubbed your eyes, seeing stars for a moment as you stopped and stretched. "i thought i set my alarm and i-" you stopped, frantically patting around you and coming up empty.

"it's in my room." you realised with a sigh, burying your face in your hands as katie moved to sit beside you. "hey, did you sleep at all last night? don't take this the wrong way sweets but ya look like shit." katies tone was laced with concern, unable to ignore the deep bags under your eyes.

"yeah yeah i'm fine. how long have i got?" you brushed off her worry with a shake of your head. "couple hours. is your bag packed?" katie questioned, wanting nothing more than to continue questioning you but knowing that wasn't going to help anything right now.

"no, i was supposed to get up and do it before i met you for breakfast." you groaned in realization, the stress already mounting on your shoulders at your careless error. "hey." katie grabbed your hands, tugging them away from your face and turning you to look at her.

"you go and have a shower, do your skin care stuff or whatever you call it. i'll pack your bag and cook us somethin to eat, okay?" she stated more than questioned, staring you down as you nodded, knowing better than to try and argue with her.

"sorry." you exhaled into her shoulder as she pulled you into a tight hug. "don't be. my job to look after ya when you forget, god knows you've done it for me!" her body vibrated with a small chuckle as she pulled away, placing a kiss to your forehead and nodding for you to head toward the bathroom.

~

"smells good baby, thank you." your hoodie covered arms wrapped around the slightly taller girls hips, your cheek resting against her back as you leaned into her where she stood by your stove dishing up.

you kissed her cheek appreciatively as she handed you a plate, nodding for you to sit down as she dished up her own food. "you gonna be honest about not sleepin then?" katie asked, breaking the silence once filled by the scraping of cutlery against plates.

"i told you, i'm fine." you sighed at her concern, rolling your eyes and continuing to eat. "you're not." katie pushed, jaw clenching at your denial. "i am katie, drop it." you warned, fixing her with a firm look which she only met with one of her own.

"whatever, stubborn idiot." your girlfriend scoffed quietly, shaking her head as you bit your tongue not to snap at her, knowing part of the reason you were so moody was because you hadn't slept, and you hardly wanted to any further prove her worries to be worthwhile.

the silence continued as you finished eating, grabbing yours and your girlfriends dishes and washing them up, leaving her to have some space to cool down before you'd both need to be in game mode.

sure enough right as you were finished she appeared, hugging you tightly from behind as her face tucked into your neck. "ya know i only bug you about it cause i care, right?" katie mumbled as you sighed, moving your hands to rest on top of hers.

"i know. but i don't need this today, we have bigger things to focus on." you spoke gently, leaning back into her a little more and feeling her nod, the two of you standing there just appreciating one anothers embrace for a moment, katie gently swaying the two of you side to side.

"right i'm getting seasick babe." you joked, tapping her hands as they let go of your waist and the irishwoman unwound from around you. "mm not so fast darlin. think ya might be forgettin somethin?" katie caged you in against the counter, arms either side of your body and a cheeky grin ingrained into her features.

"hmm. breakfast? check. shower? check. cuddle? check. bags packed? check. sounds like we're ready to leave love!" you smiled teasingly, knowing exactly what she wanted. "think harder." katies body pressed into yours, grin growing as she leant in closer and closed.

"oh! of course baby, how could i forget." you gasped, leaning up as if to kiss her but ducking under her arm, the older girl stumbling forward as you darted away. "gotta put my trainers on!" you winked as she quickly turned.

you laughed as she chased after you, grabbing the back of your pants and yanking you down onto the lounge before you could make a break for the front door, your body toppling down on top of hers.

"caught ya baby girl!" she grinned, bunching your hoodie in her fists and pulling your mouth to meet hers, the two of you smiling into the kiss. you indulged her for a few moments, allowing her tongue to slip in as you grabbed her face deepening the kiss even further before forcing yourself to pull away.

"baby as much as i love you and i love doing this, we're running late."

~

"hey y/l/n, can i grab you for a second please?" you looked up from where you were stretching with a few of the girls, one of the assistant coaches and medic waiting for you as you nodded, excusing yourself from your previous conversation with frida and noelle.

"is everything alright?" you questioned with a frown, the two of them requesting you come to the medical room with them. your worry grew when neither of them answered you, and it doubled as you entered the room and saw you weren't alone.

"okay why do i feel like this is an intervention? are you sending me to AA?" you joked, tone laced with nervousness as both your captains for club and for country sat waiting.

"please take a seat. you're not in any trouble we just want to talk about something that's been flagged." martin, the assistant coach smiled kindly, gesturing for you to take a seat as you pulled yourself up onto one of the physio benches.

"flagged?" you frowned, confusion peaking into curiosity. "its been mentioned you've been having some trouble sleeping, and this has raised some questions about your ability to be match fit today." kim spoke up first, eyes raking over you with concern.

"let me guess, katie?" you rolled your eyes, nerves and confusion now replaced with annoyance and frustration. "easy mate, you know she loves you which is why its being taken seriously, she'd hardly lie." leah spoke softly but fixed you with a look as you opened your mouth to argue.

"what have i got to do to prove i'm fine then? i can play! look i'm wide awake. i'll count backwards from 100? walk a straight line? do the alphabet?" you rambled on, eyes daring around the room.

"this isn't to test if you've been drinking and driving." martin chuckled. "so what do i need to do? other than go and warm up, which i'm missing!" you made a point, pointing out of the door and toward the pitch.

"katie said you didn't sleep last night, and that you've struggled with a regular sleep schedule for a rather long time." julie the medic questioned, having you look in a few different directions as she shone a bright light in your eyes.

"i have insomnia, its diagnosed and the club has record of that. it's never stopped me playing before." you winced at the light, blinking a few times to adjust as she finished with a hum. "do you take medication to help you sleep?" julie questioned.

"....yeah." you answered, clearly a little too slowly for everyone's liking. "don't lie." leah warned, crossing her arms sternly. "i used to take benzodiazepines but i stopped because i was waking up feeling even worse than if i just didn't sleep." you admitted honestly with a sigh.

"have you seen a doctor about that? tried other medication?" julie pressed, scribbling things down on a clipboard.

"i've seen multiple doctors and tried everything. i've not had a proper sleep schedule since i was a teenager and i still play at my best every single match. so why the hell is my fitness and ability being questioned now from the concerns of one person? a person who wasn't even with me last night to know if i slept or not!" you snapped, patience coupled with a lack of sleep bubbling over.

"sorry." you apologized quickly, looking down at the floor. "if you're not sleeping, you're not rested. and if you're not rested your body is more susceptible to fatigue and to injuries." julie spoke up first, handing her clipboard to martin whose eyes raked over her findings with a frown.

"the line up is already announced and i'm starting. you can't bench me, please! it's the derby and i am fine." you all but begged, sending pleading looks to both kim and leah to back you up. "it's not our call." kim sent you a small sympathetic smile as you groaned, head thumping back against the wall behind you as you awaited your fate.

"we'll be back in just a minute." martin promised as he and julie stepped out for a moment, door closing behind them. "this is such bullshit." you spat, pulling your knees up to your chest and glaring at the wall.

"why haven't you told any of us about this? why hasn't katie brought it up until now?" kim asked with a frown as you rolled your eyes. "because i am fine, and its nobodies business anyway! its not like im a fucking vampire and i don't ever sleep." you grumbled, body hunched over and tense with frustration.

"don't bite our heads off! we care too." leah warned making you roll your eyes. "if you cared you'd back me up and advocate they let me play." you huffed, glancing to the door and frowning as it still didn't open.

"how long did you sleep last night then?" kim questioned with a raised eyebrow. "again, don't lie." leah added on, forever like the nagging sister you'd never had before.

"few hours here and there, i got enough. i feel fine!" "if you say you're fine one more time i'm gonna shove my-" "leah that is not helping right now."

luckily enough for you martin and julie returned before either kim or leah could say another word, your nerves increasing as you looked between them eagerly awaiting their verdict.

"you can play today."

you sighed in relief, pumping your fist happily but your smile dropped as julie held up a hand. "but you'll need to start seeing a therapist weekly, and we'll need to see an updated diagnosis and medication review." she finished as your eyes bugged in surprise.

"a therapist?" you scoffed pulling a face. "would you rather be benched?" leah warned raising an eyebrow as you held your hands up in surrender. "okay! i agree to that. now can i go and warm up please?" you hopped down from the bench, waiting eagerly to be dismissed as martin nodded with a flick of his hand and within seconds you were gone.

but as your feet hit the pitch again, there was only one target you locked in on, marching angrily towards her.

"oi what the fuc-" she turned around with a murderous glare as you shoved her in the back sending her stumbling forward. "you've got some fucking nerve mccabe." you shoved her again, eyes slit into a glare of your own.

"baby listen just-" "don't you baby me. how dare you go behind my back and complain to the coaching staff that i'm not match fit who the hell do you think you are?" she grabbed your hands in hers as you tried to push her again, holding on tightly and dragging you back toward the tunnel, ignoring your complaints.

"i'm ya girlfriend and your team mate, and as both of those i know you're not match fit. those bags under your eyes aren't louis v darlin." katie spat as you yanked your hands out of her grip. "i don't care who you are, you had no fucking right katie you almost got me benched for one of the most important matches of the season!" you growled, both of your hands balled into fists.

"oh is that so? well if i had my way you'd be benched till you learned to act your fucking age and how to look after yourself!" katie shot back with a sneer, both of you far too agitated and hot headed to think rationally about the words exchanged.

"girls!"

before either of you could continue to lash out your heads snapped toward kim who stood a few metres away, captains armband on and hands on her hips, leah lingering behind her with the same unimpressed look.

"you're a fucken child sometimes throwing ya toys out when ya don't get your own way. grow up!" katie spat before storming off back to the pitch as you scoffed, opening your mouth to yell after her before an arm fell to your shoulder and a hand covered your mouth.

"you'll thank me later." leah warned, guiding you back out to the pitch as kim headed off after katie.

~

and you hadn't entirely lied you were feeling fine...for the first twenty or so minutes of the match.

you hated to admit it but the longer you played the more you really realized how tired you were, you missed easy passes, your tackles were sloppy and you found yourself far more out of breath than usual.

when the half time whistle finally sounded after six minutes of extra allotted injury time your shoulders sagged with relief, and you found yourself doubled over with your hands on your knees.

"you right mate?" you knew from the voice that it was lotte but as you looked up to her her face was blurred and you could only nod, following after her and into the tunnel.

you paused to lean against the wall once you were out of sight, rubbing your eyes and seeing stars but with a few shakes of your head your vision cleared and you stumbled into the change rooms, missing the concerned looks thrown your way by a few of your team mates.

"fuck off i'm fine." you mumbled as katie approached you, scoffing in disbelief and shaking her head, storming off to sit on the other side of the room as jonas started to address everyone.

you tried your best to listen, but your ears were ringing lightly and you found your fingers jammed into them, wiggling desperately to try and cease the noise, too distracted to hear a few of the girls try to check in with you.

it was only when a hand fell to your shoulder that you jolted to attention, your face flushing bright red in embarrassment as you realized you'd been directly addressed by the coaching staff.

"sorry i got some grass in my ear. can you repeat that please?" you questioned softly, shrugging off jens hand and doing your best to focus on the new tactics being explained to you, nodding along and giving martin a thumbs up once he finished.

noticing a few of the other girls murmuring to one another and flicking you the occasional glance, especially katie who was sat with alessia and jen. with a roll of your eyes you grabbed your water bottle, pushing up to your feet ignoring the way your head swam and your vision blurred a little as you did, storming out of the change room.

you downed the rest of your water, again rubbing your eyes as you dropped your bottle in the holder by the bench, stretching as the rest of the girls all filed back out of the tunnel.

you felt katie's eyes bore into the side of your head as you all returned to the pitch, ignoring the overwhelming urge to meet her gaze as you settled into position, wincing at the sound of the whistle as tottenham kicked off.

it was still deadlocked at 1-1 when the first round of substitutions were made, katie, beth and lia taken off for amanda, cloe and kyra. your head was thumping and it had started to ache behind the back of your eyes but you were determined to push on.

however your girlfriend had other ideas.

"martin ya gotta get her taken off man. look at her she's strugglin!" katie quietly begged the man, who advised he was unable to do anything as the subs had already been set and the tactics formed. katie continued to plead until eventually jonas stepped in, ordering her back to her seat with an agreement he'd keep an eye on you the next ten minutes.

he didn't need that long.

moments are katie took her seat, arms crossed and a thundering glare of discontent on her face, arsenal were awarded a corner by a poorly cleared ball from the spurs.

steph stood up to take it and you huddled in by the post, flanked by a defender on either side as it appeared almost the entire starting 22 crammed into the goal posts, half desperate to score and half desperate to defend.

you were jostled side to side, a few shoves into your back by the keeper as you did your best to hold your ground, the ringing in your ears returning as you blinked rapidly trying to clear it.

then you heard the crack of stephs boots meeting the ball, eyes widening as black dots blurred your vision and you jumped, the ball soaring closer and closer as chaos erupted in the box, a flurry of bodies pushing and shoving and jumping.

suddenly you felt a searing pain split open your head and your vision went black, your body thumping to the pitch with a sickening thud, the awful clang of where your forehead had bounced off the goal post echoing around the box.

the ball hit the back of the net off frida's head but nobody made a move to celebrate as a crowd formed around you, the medics racing over and clearing them as it took three of your team mates to hold katie back from sprinting off after them.

your eyes opened and you groaned as the light pierced through them, feeling it hit the back of your skull as something wet trickled into your mouth catching you off guard as you started to cough and splutter.

you heard someone ask if you could feel your toes and you held up a singular thumb, then came questions about your back and your neck and it was confirmed a stretcher wasn't needed.

very slowly you were helped to your feet, arms slung around the medics and eyes drooped shut as your body sagged limply, feeling julie press a cloth to your forehead as bodies moved around you, unable to look like anything more than colorful blobs as your head screamed for a reprise, the screaming of the crowd only making it worse.

within seconds the yelling was cut off, your body laid down on the physio table. without as much background noise and direct light you were able to open your eyes, blinking a few times as your ears stopped ringing and slowly you came a little more to.

"what? what did you say?" you slurred, hearing your name mentioned as your head was gently lifted up and someones body slotted beneath you, your head now resting in their lap.

"just stay quiet for a second, relax." you recognized the voice to be leahs, and could make out the words concussion, stitches and hospital. "no hospital!" you slurred out, trying to sit up as leah gently held you down, one hand on your chest as the other continued to press gauze on the large cut on your forehead.

"the ambulance is nearly here. i'm gonna go with you and so is julie, they need to clean and stitch your head kid, this is a nasty cut." leah warned softly as your vision came a little more to and you could make out her face.

not having anything left in you to argue you only nodded. "katie." you managed to get out as they helped you to your feet and paramedics entered, julie briefing them on what had happened.

"she's grabbing your bag and she'll meet us there."

~

you didn't remember much else after that, until suddenly you became aware of a pain in your neck and you shifted, trying to reach your fist up to punch your pillow into a more comfortable position.

"ah fuck!" you swore as your hand instead collided with the metal railing of the hospital bed, your eyes fluttering open as you blinked a few times. "hey hey hey, no sudden movements." leah shot up from the chair beside your bed as you tried to sit up.

"why the fuck am i in a hospital bed?" you groaned, laying back down with her help.

"you went headfirst into the goal post my girl, split your forehead right open top to tail and gave us all one hell of a scare." leah explained as you gently touched your forehead, wincing as you pressed lightly on the stitches and leah clicked her tongue at you and swatted your hand away.

"did we win?" you questioned, leah unable to help a smile from curling onto her lips as she shook your head. "yeah we won." leah chuckled as you let out a small sigh of relief, quickly noticing you and leah were alone.

"where's katie?" you asked, afraid of the answer as leah shot you a lot of pity and you shrank into yourself. "she's really pissed off with me, isn't she?" you sighed, squeezing your eyes closed regretful of your actions.

"she was here before, but she just needed a little space to cool off." leah smiled sympathetically as you nodded in understanding. "so i guess i'm in a bit of shit with everyone then." you mumbled quietly, looking up at the roof.

"as much as you infuriate me i could never stay mad at you for all that long, none of us could. but you are on bed rest for the next three days, your iron levels are severely low so you'll need an infusion, and you're not cleared to play for two weeks at least." leah recounted everything the doctor had told her earlier.

"doing my job for me!" speaking of, the man strode in with an amused smile toward leah and greeting you, stopping at the foot of your bed as leah moved your bed into a sitting position at his request.

he didn't waste any time, affirming what leah said was all correct and now you were awake you were okay to be discharged, but that you weren't to use any sort of electronics, drive a car or be around any bright light for at least twenty four hours.

you'd not need to come back in to have the stitches removed, the arsenal medics trained enough to do that themselves. but if you had any symptoms of concussion, vision issues or any dizziness you were to come right back to be assessed.

you only nodded, barely having the energy to speak as the doctor turned his attention onto leah instead. within the hour you were dressed into a pair of your own sweats and given your discharge papers, leahs arm over your shoulder guiding you out of the hospital and toward her car, slipping her sunglasses on over your eyes as you left.

"are you coming in?" you asked hesitantly as leah pulled up outside your home. "katie's there, i already called her and filled her in on everything." leah explained with a smile as you nodded, sighing deeply but thanking leah with a hug and kiss to the cheek, promising to look after yourself.

by the time you'd pulled away from the hug your girlfriend was already waiting on the front steps, having heard leahs car pull up in the driveway. her head was covered with a hoodie, arms crossed over her chest with an unreadable expression on her face.

you hadn't even opened the door before she was in front of you, helping you out wordlessly as your body sagged into hers, the pain medication and lack of sleep all hitting you like a truck as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

"i'm so sorry." you managed out quietly as the two of you entered your home, katie closing the door quietly after you. "stop." she responded softly, and your body filled with relief as she wrapped you in a tight tight hug.

"i was so fucken scared." you heard the irishwoman whisper, vulnerability leaking from her tone as she exhaled shakily. "i'm so sorry, i should have listened to you." you admitted, moving to look up at her, your heart breaking at the fear in her eyes.

"i should have spoke with you before going to the trainers. but right now you need to rest baby girl." she smiled, placing a tender kiss to your puckered lips.

you let out a small laugh as her hands hooked under your thighs, hoisting you up and into her arms as your legs wrapped around her waist. "hold on tight spidermonkey." she teased as your head fell to her shoulder with a sigh.

"i wish i never made you watch twilight."

"close your eyes please baby." katie instructed as you arrived to your bedroom, door firmly closed as you didn't bother to argue, eyes slipping shut as you heard the doorknob click and squeak open.

"keep em closed till i say so." you felt her lower your body into bed, kissing your forehead beside your stitches softly as you nodded. you heard her thump and move around the room for a few moments before you felt her slip into bed beside you.

"open darlin."

you did so and your breath caught in your throat as your eyes landed on the roof. "oh baby." you managed out, tears welling up in your eyes.

"i know counting sheep doesn't help, but i thought maybe these might be a little easier." katie whispered, tugging your body into hers as you stared up at the small glow in the dark galaxy of stars now stuck all over your roof.

"how did you even...." "got a lot of helpin hands." "it's perfect katie baby, thank you."

you turned and pressed your lips to hers, your girlfriend gently pushing you away with a sorry smile. "doctors orders." she explained and you nodded with a small sigh, katie ducking down and stealing one more kiss.

"please go to sleep gorgeous, for as long as you need. i'll be right here the entire time." the brunette promised, having already drawn your blinds and blocked out all possible light she could.

you didn't have it in you to even say another word, her arms wrapped securely around you and hands playing with your hair pulling you into a deep cocoon of comfort.

soft nothings were mumbled into your forehead as katies lips lingered there, careful of your stitches. the gentle hum of her voice lulled you into a dreamless sleep, the pain medication taking off the edge and allowing you to properly rest.

and it was safe to say there wasn't a single night before a match you spent alone anymore.

[museum-mind]

I CAN TELL YOU MISS ME

ᯓ★ sae thought it was the right decision to break up with you before moving to spain, but soon found himself checking your socials every other day — and searching for your face at every game.

a/n : i wanna do a part 2 of when sae comes back to japan but i don’t know..

“i’m breaking up with you.” … “this relationship will never last.” … “goodbye, name.”

sae’s words rang through his head like a curse throughout the whole flight, his teeth biting harshly at his lower lip.

was this really the right decision? was it really necessary to throw away the love of his life for the sake of pursuing his soccer career?

it better have been, because it sure is difficult holding back tears in front of a bunch of strangers on a plane.

he sighed, unlocking the door to his new apartment; it strangely reminded him of your cozy little place.

sae had to remind himself over and over that you two were no longer, you were just a memory of the past; someone who he left behind in japan.

but when he’s laying alone on his large, king-sized bed, body sprawled out like a starfish and the sounds of the lively city drowned out his own harsh words — “name, we need to talk.” — he found it so hard to let you go.

he was the one who ended things, he had to! it’s not like you wanted to go to spain with him — you had a life, and you’d just be a nuisance to him anyways.

that’s what he says to himself, hands trembling as they click on the new story you just posted on instagram.

it seems that your friends, whom he never really liked, took you out to a club, of sorts.

his thumb flew to like your story, almost like a reflex, but he was quick to stop it.

he scanned the picture, a fancy outfit hugging your curves — did you always have that, or was it new? he certainly hadn’t seen you wear something so… risky, before.

he taps again, the next story — it’s you with your friend. all he can focus on is the smile on your face, so bright.

you seemed to be glowing, as if you’d turned into the brightest star in the sky.

you’d always been like that, sae thinks. you were the star, no — sun to his moon.

now you’re glowing for the sick eyes of the men in that filthy club. he would’ve taken you to a much nicer place.

he scowls as he taps again, eyes glaring down at the photo of you with another man — he guesses your annoying friend took the photo and posted it.

they always loved to meddle, didn’t they?

sae turns his phone off, deciding he’s seen enough for one night. it’s not like he cares about what you’re doing anyway… right?

sae places his phone back on the table, the tiredness from flying finally getting to him.

“just a nap,” he tells himself, laying down as he places his hands on his stomach, teal eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“just a nap” turned into an hour of emotions. sae couldn’t handle it, the thought of you — his one and only with some other man?

well, you’re not his anymore.

and with that, sae finally fell into the hands of sleep, dreams and images of you plaguing his mind.

as the sun sunk low, the moon glittering beautifully in the night, sae’s eyes fluttered open. he didn’t realise he’d been asleep for so long — the time difference sure did get to him.

days went by, and over time he grew to get used to the time.

one thing he couldn’t get used to, was being without you.

he didn’t even notice when he’d look at your account, scrolling through your new posts — you’re so pretty.

you seem much happier than he’s feeling.. ironic, since he’s the one who broke up with you in the first place!

he had his first game in spain, muscles cracking as he stretched.

it hurt when he stretched himself, you’d usually massage his muscles to help loosen him up — what is he thinking?! he’s better off without you!

but he did miss the touch of your hands.

he wasn’t playing as he normally would, this match… anyone could tell, even you, who was watching from the other side of the world.

you stayed up late, your room lit up by the screen playing sae’s match.

his game is so off today, you think. is something bothering him?

it’s not like it matters, anyway, he broke up with you…

sae stood still, eyes blank as the winner of the game was announced; itoshi sae’s team had lost.

all his dreams of becoming a striker, crushed. just like that.

in the span of weeks; sae had lost everything dear to him. and it was all his fault.

you knew the look in sae’s eyes — it was the very same emotion he looked at you with before he left.

emotionless and empty.

you sighed, turning the device off as you lay back down in your bed, arms reaching out to where sae used to rest.

your hand balls into a fist, tears threatening to spill. you can’t help but feel angry, yet sympathetic at the same time.

but is he really deserving of your emotions?

no. he’s not.

sae knows that, so as he plops back down to his bed, he’s already reaching for his phone and turning it on.

he’s doesn’t deserve to message you — he doesn’t have the right!

so he was surprised to see a text from you.

“i can tell you miss me.”

[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time Three: Return of the Kink

Day 12: Hands Under the Table (Public)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Sniper x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Sniper have some fun in a conveniently isolated area of a bar

Tags: Public, dirty talk, fingering, denial, dom/sub, bars, beer (no intoxication), volume control

Word Count: 2.2k

The Masterlist

You gripped a bottle of beer in your hand, letting the condensation soak your palm. Cracking open the cap, you grimaced as it bubbled and dripped down the side before taking a tentative sip. Yup, just as disgusting as the last time you had tried beer. Why you felt the need to force yourself to adapt to this taste, you would never know.

Truthfully, it was probably for the same reason you agreed to come along to this bar in the first place- comradery. You wished your team could get a bit more imaginative with their post-victory celebrations. At the very least, they could buy some drinks and keep them back at the base, where you could at least have the convenience of retiring to your room when things became overwhelming.

Scanning the bar, your eyes fell on Sniper, who had been keeping a booth to himself for most of the night. A bowl of chips in the center of the table remained untouched, and his hat was pulled low over his eyes, as if he simply wanted to fall asleep and be woken up when this was over. Sensing a possible kindred spirit, you approached him.

“I’m surprised you agreed to come,” you said, looking down at Sniper, now seeing that he was also nursing a beer. You wondered if he actually liked the stuff or if he was just faking it like you. Maybe everyone was faking it. Maybe beer was just a grand conspiracy.

Sniper scoffed. “Well, I was practically dragged out of my van to join in.” He nodded towards Scout, who was currently trying to chat up various girls on the small dance floor. It figured that the runner would be the one to pry Sniper out of his self imposed isolation. He was one of the only mercs stubborn and persistent enough to do so. You watched him strut over to the blaring jukebox, leaning against it as if it made him seem cool. You wondered how long it would take for him to put

at least five repetitions of the same Tom Jones song into that thing.

You really didn’t want to be negative. It was a nice bar, nicer than the kind you would usually go to. There was even a small stage for live music, although it was currently empty. After such a long streak of wins, the team had decided to splurge a bit. Yet, you ultimately couldn’t seem to get into the spirit of things.

“I take it you’re having about as much fun as I am?” you asked, your voice oozing sarcasm.

Honestly, you did not enjoy going out. Bars of any kind tended to be loud, crowded, and chaotic. You would much rather celebrate with a night in and some greasy take out. Spy wouldn’t be having that though, with his greater than thou attitude towards American food. Although, based on the way he was sequestered in his own personal corner as well, it seemed this wasn’t very much to his taste either.

“At least most of us seem to be enjoying themselves,” you sighed. Although, as you and Sniper looked out over the crowd, it became clear that some individuals may have been enjoying themselves a bit too much.

Demoman probably wouldn’t be much of an issue. You were almost certain that he was immune to hangovers at this point. The others were another story though. You had a feeling that the few sober ones among you would have to guide them back to the base by the end of the night, and help nurse them back to health in the morning. Why the Medigun wasn’t effective on hangovers, you would never know.

You tried to match Sniper’s laid back demeanor, casually sipping your own beer. However, you couldn’t hide the cringe on your face as you swallowed it down.

“Darling,” Sniper chuckled, watching you try and fail to ignore the taste of cheap booze. “If you don’t like it, why are you drinking it?”

You shrugged, giving a defeated sigh. “I guess I thought if I got drunk enough, this night would seem more entertaining.” You swirled the contents of the beer bottle, only a third empty. “But with how long it’s been taking me to force down sips of this cheap shit, I’m probably not even buzzed.”

Sniper chuckled. You set the bottle down beside him, admitting defeat. He took a swig from it only to find that the drink had long since gone flat. “I might have a way to make the evening more enjoyable, if you’d like,” he suggested, returning to nursing his own beer.

“I’m not dancing,” you quickly said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Sniper said, glancing towards the dance floor where Scout was once again trying to seduce girls with his rendition of some kind of indescribable dance- like a cross between the Charleston and a baby giraffe trying to walk for the first time. You were almost envious of his alcohol fueled confidence. “Just have a seat next to me, doll.”

He patted the booth beside him. You were confused, but also intrigued, sitting down and sidling up next to him with a playful smirk. He quickly reciprocated with an arm draped over your shoulders, pulling you close. You were a bit embarrassed by the school girl-like giggle that escaped you as you rested your head on his shoulder.

Sniper’s lips grazed your ear, making you shiver, only for his next words to make you freeze up. “Don’t make a scene.”

“Wh-” You couldn’t even get a full word out before Sniper’s free hand reached over, unbuttoning your fly and slipping his hand into your pants. You bit your lip to keep yourself from gasping. “Oh my God, Sniper!” you whispered harshly. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked as he began to move his fingers, still over your underwear. Even so, it still sent jolts of pleasure through you that made your thighs quiver slightly. “We’ve discussed this, doll. Remember how hot it made you, the thought of me working you over with my fingers in the corner of a crowded room?”

Recalling the conversation made you blush. “Yeah, I remember,” you whispered, thinking back to the night you and Sniper had swapped fantasies over pillow talk. “I just didn’t expect it to be happening now.”

“Well, I believe a key part of that little fantasy was the element of surprise,” Sniper said. “You didn’t want to know when I might spring it on you.” He paused suddenly, his smirk wavering. “Of course, if you aren’t up for this now, we can stop-”

“No, no! I am!” You cringed, lowering your voice and glancing around to make sure no one had noticed your outburst. It appeared that the din of the crowd had effectively drowned you out. “That is, I am very much up for this.”

Sniper nodded, turning his gaze away from you. He sipped his beer, holding the bottle with his free hand while the one down your pants began to rub ever so slowly. Your face flushed scarlet and you bit your lower lip to keep any noises from escaping. Your adrenaline was running high, heightening every sensation. Even being touched through your underwear like this felt incredible.

“Please,” you stammered. “Keep going.”

“Of course, darling.”

Your underwear was pulled to the side, and you shuddered as you felt Sniper's fingers drag along your cunt, coating the digits with your arousal. It didn’t take much effort for him to work a couple fingers into you within a few minutes. You hooked a leg over his thigh, trying to spread your legs in a way that wasn’t too conspicuous. He allowed it, rubbing his free hand over your thigh for a moment. His palm was cold from the chill of the beer, causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin.

The hum of the crowd seemed to fade into the background as Sniper began to pump his fingers faster. He kept switching it up, swapping between thrusting into you and circling your clit, keeping you on your toes, yet always bringing you closer and closer to the edge until the sensation of building, tightening pleasure was at the forefront of your mind, eclipsing everything else.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak. You didn’t even trust yourself to look out into the crowded bar, fearing that something in your expression would give you away. Still, you had to try to say something, to warn Sniper that you were close.

“Mundy,” you whimpered. “I’m going to-”

“Not yet.”

Your body immediately stiffened. “No, no, no! Don’t be mean, Mundy! I can’t- oh fuck!” Your plea for mercy dissolved on your lips. You kept a white knuckled grip on the table in front of you, scowling down at it like it had personally offended you. It was all you could do to keep your eyes from rolling back.

“Darling, keep it together,” Sniper whispered, although through clenched teeth, it sounded more akin to a growl. “Or else I’ll have to punish you later.”

You frowned, barely keeping the moan out of your voice as you responded with a tense and curt “Fine.”

“And I'll Ignore your attitude, just this once.”

Damn it, he always needed to have the last word. You clamped a hand over your mouth, gluing your eyes to the table. Sniper’s fingers curled inside you, stroking gently and rhythmically. It was all you could do to keep yourself from arching back against the booth.

Sniper downed the rest of his beer. Glancing down, he saw the way your thighs were trembling, even though you were seated. It was quite an alluring sight, and Sniper couldn’t help but get enraptured in it, imagining being inside you, pinning you down somewhere private, and making all those pretty sounds spill freely from your lips. He shook his head, putting those thoughts out of his mind for now, lest he be forced to hold his own hat suspiciously in front of his crotch for the rest of the night.

“You’re pulsing around my fingers. You’re so close you can taste it, aren’t you?” He whispered. You nodded, barely looking up at him, a whimper just barely escaping past your hand. “You’re about to come in front of all these people who don’t have a clue what’s going on right under their noses.” Sniper pressed his fingers firmly against your sweet spot, making you jolt.

“Mundy,” you groaned his name softly, leaning against him. To anyone who glanced over, it would look like you had just overindulged on alcohol. Your flushed face only served to sell the facade even more. It was the perfect cover, really. Still, you would rather not get caught, even though the risk thrilled you in its own unique way. “Mundy, please!”

“It’s alright, doll. You can come, as long as you think you can stay quiet.”

His permission was like a trigger being pulled. Trying not to writhe as your orgasm ripped through you was a struggle, but you managed, hunching over the table and resting your forehead on the cool hard wood. Keeping quiet was a bit more difficult, but luckily the music was loud and the bar denizens were even louder, so the few moans that escaped you went unnoticed.

You stayed with your head on the table for a while, panting, letting out a soft groan when Sniper withdrew his fingers. He was stone faced, simply looking out over the bar as if nothing had transpired. It was only when you sat up that he glanced over at you, giving you a smirk that made your heart flutter. Between the ambient light of the bar and the post orgasmic haze, he looked handsome as hell. You wanted to lean up and kiss him before you could say something embarrassingly sappy.

Sniper broke the silence before you could. “I have a feeling the rest of the team isn’t going to be in any shape to walk back to base tonight.” He nodded towards the dancefloor, where you were certain at least half of your fellow mercenaries were currently making asses of themselves. However, you couldn’t be bothered to look. You didn’t want to tear your gaze away from Sniper. “How about we head back and grab my van so that they can have a ride? Hell, there might even be just enough time to give you a little reward for being such a good girl.”

An enthusiastic grin spread across your face. “I would like that,” you said, standing up quickly. A bit too quickly, apparently, as you staggered within your first step. Thankfully Sniper was at your side in an instant, linking your arms together to keep you steady. He had half a mind to scoop you up and simply carry you out of the bar.

As he guided you towards the exit on shaky legs, he caught the eyes of another patron. They were supporting the weight of their own very intoxicated partner, who was singing- or rather, shouting- the lyrics to whatever song played from the jukebox unintelligibly as they stumbled along. They gave the two of you a sympathetic look, and Sniper suppressed the smirk that threatened to creep onto his face. If only they knew.

[osleeplessflowero]

I figured it's time to bring back Classic Sans for a oneshot. Haven't posted about him since Stargazing! My very first Sans oneshot and Undertale oneshot as a whole. - Reader is Gender Neutral as always! Their SOUL type is up to you. - This is a good way to tie these oneshots to another series of mine :)

It's quiet..before a breeze fills your ears. Your senses are overloaded with sound. Soon you can feel the breeze too, gently hitting your skin as you slowly open your eyes and move your hands over the grass beneath you.

How long had you been asleep? What happened? Did you miss anything? Your head is spinning..

A familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts softly, calmly. Just like he always does.

"heya. glad to see you're back." He greets you with a smile once you look over, just as he always does. You can't help but smile too. Sitting up, you scoot a bit closer to him and abruptly drop your head on his shoulder, to his surprise. "woah there, what's this all about?" He raises a browbone as he looks down at you, feeling your arm move behind his back so you can awkwardly hug him.

"How long was I asleep?" You ask, getting straight to the point. He looks back up, focusing on the rising sun before the two of you. "not much time has passed here since you fell asleep. or, i guess you could say we fell asleep, huh?" He chuckles. "guessing you've had lots of opportunities to explore. i couldn't imagine doing all that."

"..Yeah." You think about places you've been, your consciousness moving about through different timelines and possibilities. It is only right here, in this space, that you can truly remember things..and where you originally came from. You've certainly seen a lot of interesting figures recently. All of them being different variants of Sans, and even his brother, Papyrus. The same two, just..in various different fonts.

"it's kinda weird, when i think about it." You turn to look at him. "how there's so many other mes just..hangin' around in other timelines. that even the smallest decision can make an entirely new form, a new me. up to the point where..it's like i'm a whole other person. they're sorta..physical "what if"s. aaand prove that the timeline theory is real..so..that's complicated. i guess i can see why you like to go see them all. curiosity."

"..Yeah..it's..like a new adventure each time." You earn a nod from him, before you sit up and move so you're in front of him, placing your hands at the sides of his legs. "But..just so we're clear, that doesn't mean I want to see you any less, Sans. You're still you, the original you, that..that I fell for in the beginning." Heat rises to your cheeks, burning even warmer as you watch a shade of blue make its way onto the skeleton's cheekbones to match.

"i mean, i understand if you prefer some variations of me more. i'm not gonna take it personally-" You cut him off, placing your hand on his left cheekbone. He freezes like a deer in the headlights, his eyesockets relaxing a little as he leans into your touch almost instinctively.

"Just because I like to see other outcomes it doesn't mean I'll love you any less. I refuse to leave you behind. I won't leave Paps behind either. I promise."

"seems like a pretty big promise. sure you can keep it?" "I'm absolutely sure." You lean forward, pressing your forehead against his own. "No matter what..you'll always remain in my heart, Sans. The true you, I mean." "why settle for me when you can have so many other mes?" He raises a browbone, a soft smile on his face. "At the end of the day it was the two of you that my heart belonged to first. Nothing will change that." His face is now a prettier, brighter shade of blue..you can't help but smile, seeing him like this.

"You're not making puns." "it's not the time for that." He averts his eyelights, earning a chuckle from you. You lightly tap his cheek. "C'mon..look at me." "i dunno.." "Please?" "what if i fall for you all over again?" You smile. "I'd be alright with that."

He turns his eyelights to you, unable to look away the moment he does. You can hear his breath hitch, the lights shifting into little heart shapes the moment he blinks. "..Can I?..Or would that be too forward?-" You mutter, your face heating up again at the thought. "just get over here, you." He puts his arms around your waist, pulling you a little closer so you can make contact yourself.

You lean forwards, pressing your lips against his teeth..feeling yourself becoming lost in the moment. Your heart pounds in your ears, your faces both madly flushed as you embrace each other's company. Eventually you have to break the kiss for air, softly regaining your breath as he stares at you with admiring eyes. He reaches up his hands, placing them on the sides of your face now. The cool feeling both calms your nerves and makes you even more flushed. "you alright being stuck with me? with us, even?" "Always. Don't ever question that." You smile, earning a grin from him in return as you hear footsteps approaching in the distance.

"There You Two Are! I've Been Looking Everywhere For You!" Papyrus comes to a stop before you, pressing his hands on his hips with his all-too-familiar grin. A few seconds pass before he takes in your states, a smug look crossing his face. "Am I Interrupting Something?"

"nah, you got here just in time. right?" Sans lightly nudges you, earning rapid nods from you in return. If you let him hear your voice tremble or crack you would quite literally die inside.

"so, what's up? something going on?" He asks, putting an arm around you. "I Thought You Might Want To See Our New Neighbors! They Are Quite The Interesting Bunch. And..Oddly Familiar Looking.."

You and Sans give each other a knowing look. "You don't think?.." "awfully convenient timing, universe." "Might as well make a good first impression, huh?"

[ssahotchnerr]

take cover

when intense weather keeps you awake, all you need is aaron. takes place in 7x7: there's no place like home

cw; bau!reader, established relationship, episode references, storm anxiety, comfort

your whole life, you've never experienced wind as grueling as this.

it was roaring; consistently slamming against the hotel, accompanied with pelting sheets of rain and the occasional crash of thunder. your room and everything within it shook with each blow, and it felt as if it would only take one more insane gust for the entire building to collapse. even the turbulence on the way to wichita was calm in comparison.

the only other sound present was the television in front of you, displaying the local weather channel. miraculously the hotel somehow still had power, and there was only a tornado watch rather than a warning. that should've calmed your nerves and helped you fall asleep, but it didn't.

you had never feared storms in the past, but this was your first time experiencing the wrath known as tornado alley. in addition, it didn't help that just earlier that day you had been walking through tornado debris to locate a victim's dismembered limbs. you couldn't quite shake the visual either; it was all too easy to imagine the hotel being pulverized to nothing just the same.

the worst of your current situation- aaron wasn't next to you for once. his absent comfort allowed your nerves to do nothing but heighten to the brink.

for the sake of maintaining professionalism, the two of you didn't typically share a room on cases, the only exception being if the whole of you had to double up due to minimal rooms available.

but, desperate times called for desperate measures.

a particularly harsh bout of wind sent you scrambling out from underneath your comforter, hurrying out of your room and rapping your knuckle frantically on aaron's door once you had reached it. hopefully the wind wouldn't drown out your knocking, that was the last thing you needed.

and it didn't, for it only took a moment for the door to open and reveal aaron, who's expression developed into concern as he took notice of your current, panicked state. he also didn't seem surprised at your sudden presence either, as if he had known it would only be a matter of time before you came running into his arms.

another boom of thunder caused you to visibly flinch, your heart thumping wildly against your chest. "can i sleep with you?"

"by all means." he nodded, gesturing for you to enter and shutting the door behind you.

aaron's room presented a much more inviting demeanor compared to yours. yours embraced the darkness as you attempted to sleep, while his was still warmly lit, the bedside lamp all to thank. a file was thrown hastily on his duvet.

"you weren't sleeping?"

"i couldn't." he shook his head, returning to his place in bed as you followed closely, glued to his side. once the paperwork was moved aside, you were practically on top of him- curled into his chest, a leg thrown over his waist.

"god it's so loud." you squeezed your eyes shut, burying your face into his tshirt. "it feels like it'll never end."

"i know." aaron's hand moved up and down your back, allowing you to finally soak in the comfort you had been craving all night. "but i got you right here." he mumbled.

you hummed softly in response, recoiling as the building shook. at your reaction, aaron's hold on you only tightened. the pressure he supplied allowed your heart rate to drop, and you found yourself matching his even breaths to further settle yourself.

"it'll stop soon." a kiss on the top of your head followed his words.

"or not." you muttered, unenthusiastically.

"it will." he insisted assuringly. he fell quiet for a moment, your fingers clutching onto his shirt. "want me to wake morgan? i'll steal his headphones for you."

his words arose an immediate laugh to escape you, and you didn't need to open your eyes to know he was smiling. "yeah, i'm sure he'll really appreciate being awoken by none other than you."

"well, i am his favorite person, after all."

you hmph'ed at his words, "you keep telling yourself that, honey."

he chuckled softly in response, granting your head with a few more kisses.

"can you tell me something?" you peeked up at him.

"such as?"

"anything." you dropped your head back onto his chest. "i just want to hear your voice, to focus on you instead of what's brewing outside."

"okay." his deep brown eyes looked down at you lovingly, his fingertips drawing shapes on your back. "how about..."

you eventually fell into an uneasy sleep as aaron recalled the time he chaperoned jack's class on a field trip to the museum, describing the different exhibits, the ones jack was particularly fond of, and how the three of you should take a trip your next free weekend.

the faltering wind kept your mind awake- at the ready if the tornado sirens were to finally blare. but, in aaron's arms, you never felt more safe.

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Twenty-One: Friend Or Foe, Part II

Gates Of Hell

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: amnesia, needles, guns, death, guilt

[A/N: since the last chapter showed what steve was up to, i figured we should find out what was happening to mini hopper over here... *hint* it's not fun]

Friend Or Foe, Part II

“Which is why I’m sorry.”

You push him, the faceless boy, into a void. There are so many noises echoing across concrete walls, a splintering boulder bashing against the door, your only exit.

At first, you just stand there, staring as the open wall closes itself, a cry of your name thrown from the other side. And then you hear snarls, growls, monsters. You run.

But there is nowhere to run.

You’re caged in a corner, creatures drawn from the shadows, covering your face as you prepare for the end.

“WAKE UP”

You wake up with a gasp, twisting the soft cushion below you and immediately open your mouth to call for- Your breath stops in your throat. Who were you calling for?

Leaning on your elbow, you take a look around the furnished room. You fell asleep on the couch again. How many times was this now? At least eight, you think. You aren’t entirely sure how many days you’ve been down here.

You send a quick glance to the new pile of clothes waiting on the armchair opposite, a soft frown pinching your eyebrows. You still didn’t know where Brenner got them from. He left a different assortment every so often. You tried not to think about if they came from a deserted store, or somewhere much more morbid.

As you walk past, you grab a grey sweatshirt and pull it over, staring down at the sleeves.

You’ve worn something like this before. A hoodie of some kind. You remember it brought you comfort. You remember… it wasn’t yours.

A frustrated sigh echoes the room as you drag your hands down your face. Once again, you couldn’t locate the boy your brain so itched to find.

Brenner was helping you with your memories. Every day, you would do some mind exercises, incredibly mundane but so so important to you. At the end of each session, you’d take your medication and try to continue what he was teaching. You didn’t want to be stuck in this bunker forever, but how were you meant to leave when you couldn’t even find the door?

Besides, Brenner treated you with kindness. There were worse places to be in an apocalypse.

You take a deep breath, nodding to yourself. Today would be the day. You were going to remember.

The door creaked a familiar welcome when you leave the room, staring down the hall. You wonder if you have enough time to go exploring again.

A consequential part of the bunker you couldn’t wrap your head around was the lack of time. There wasn’t a single clock on the walls you so often wander around. Brenner always seemed to know exactly when everything should happen, however. Your tests, sleeping schedules, appropriate times to eat. And yet, you’ve never managed to catch him with a watch on his wrist.

You find the central part of the building, staring up at it with awe, as you did every single time. Here, there were separate floors for separate doors, all circling you as you stand in the middle. This section of the bunker made it seem much bigger than you had assumed it to be. In fact, the label bunker didn’t seem to match the grand scale of it. Although, you weren’t sure what else to call it now. A base, perhaps.

None of the doors here opened, windows blacked out with paint. Whether they were like that before or after Brenner moved in, somebody didn’t want you seeing inside those rooms. You were curious about them, as anyone else would be, but they weren’t a priority for you; finding the missing pieces of your memories were.

You’ve had several flashes of your forgotten past flash into your mind at random points over the past few days, but none gave you enough information to decipher what you were seeing. Just yesterday you had been staring down the same hallway you were now stood facing, imagining the lights flickering wildly with a panicked thrum of your heart beating against your chest.

You wondered when you would give up trying. It was silly, really, to constantly be wondering that when Brenner always told you positive thinking would better the results. You couldn’t help it. You supposed part of you must have always been expecting the worst outcome. You didn’t even remember who you really were. Did you really want to remember?

...Were you worth remembering?

Do the people who you left behind want you to remember-

“Why do you do that? Act like you aren’t someone important, when you most definitely are.”

You blink, footsteps frozen. It had just been a whisper in your mind, a calming voice. You’d been hearing it a lot lately, mostly in your dreams, sometimes when you’re overthinking like this. He was still faceless, whoever it was ushering sweet words of emotional relief. If you could just see him, the boy in your dreams, you’re sure you’d finally find that missing piece.

“We should rethink this.”

You stop again, head turning to the hallway with a confused expression. That voice most certainly wasn’t in your head. And it didn’t belong to anyone you knew, either.

“Calm down, this is what we’ve wanted since we started this whole thing.”

Brenner’s voice drifted down the hall this time. Without another thought, your feet are guiding you to the murmurs of conversation, curiosity proving it had you rather than reversed.

The speech between two men was louder when you reach the door at the end of the hall, concealing yourself around the corner and peering into the room.

From the gap in the door, you could make out a face you hadn’t see before. He seemed to be similar in age to Brenner, sporting a long white lab coat. His right hand was fiddling with the pen between his fingers, a nervous trait if you ever saw one. He was a little shorter than the man stood in front of him, his face twisted into some sort of conflicted emotion. From the discussion you were overhearing, it was clear he was in the opposition.

“Can it not wait longer?” He persisted, taking a step forward. “We can find another way. I just need time-”

“We’re out of time.” Brenner interrupts, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be alright, my friend. Think of all the things we can…”

His voice trails off, retracting his hand and straightening his back. You can’t see his expression from where you’re stood, but the man he was with seemed confused by it.

“Y/n.” Brenner suddenly turns around with a smile. Your stomach drops in shame. You obviously weren’t as inconspicuous as you hoped. “Please, come in.”

You take a few tentative steps into the room, observing the machines with various enticing buttons. There was a giant window at the back, replacing the wall. Except, you couldn’t see out of it. A giant shutter was rolled down, stopped just before completely covering the space and leaving a slither of light at the bottom. You frown at the sight. A giant window. In a control room…

“Okay.” A girl breathes out, slotting the key into a metal door. “We lock the door anytime we leave, just in case. We take shifts so some of us end up sleeping between. Don’t wanna be blind-sided.”

“It’s a good idea.” You say and she smiles.

“This way.” She announces as she swings open the door.

It was like stepping into a sci-fi movie. Lab equipment everywhere, some now lifeless machines, a large glass window overlooking rows of metal staircases, cages.

And a giant gate to hell staring back at you.

“This is Dr. Owens.” Brenner interjects the swirling memories, stepping forward. You peel your eyes away from the shutters and finally acknowledge the men standing in front of you. “I have brought him here to help with your memories. He’s very skilled in this area.”

Owens was happily nodding, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. You think you’re pretty good at reading people, consequence of the years you would sit and observe on the outside of many conversations. This man looked… sad, in some way.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. I hope my sudden appearance isn’t alarming in any way.” He offers a hand and you shake it, feeling the slight tremor in his grip. Something felt wrong.

“Well, shall we begin today’s session?” Brenner claps his hands and Owens retrieves his, nodding and walking out of the room.

You watched as he turned right towards the centre of the base rather than left to the room you’ve been conducting these sessions for weeks.

Brenner notices your confusion and places a hand on your shoulder. “We’re moving to a different room this time. Nothing to be worried about, I assure you. We just need some better equipment for this.”

He barely gives you time to think, the hand on your back guiding you out the door before you can even remember the window at the back of the room, holding a secret the universe didn’t want you to find.

“Before we begin today’s session, I’ve been meaning to take blood samples from you.” Brenner announces as you sit in an uncomfortable chair, the metal entirely different from the plush sofa you usually rest on.

“Blood samples?” You question, and Brenner smiles that same smile he’s shown you since your coma. When you think a little harder about his kindness now, did his show of comfort feel… forced?

“Are you sure she’s ready for that now?” Owens surprises you with his interjection, stepping into view beside you. “Maybe you should give her a little more time with the medication, I’d hate to-”

“Why don’t we ask her how she feels about it?” Brenner suggests, leaning forward to meet your eyes. “We don’t have to do this today. It’s simply to help us monitor if there’s perhaps something a little more medical than amnesia happening.”

More medical than amnesia? You think to yourself, glancing over at the tray of needles. This contrasted the last sessions dramatically. Every nerve in you screamed ‘no’, to refuse their help. But that crippling fear seemed to outweigh it; what if you never remembered?

Maybe this was one of those risks you have to take for the better.

“It’s okay.” You nod, turning to the man beside you. “I’m willing to do whatever.”

You assure the new doctor you’re alright, but his eyes were racked with an emotion you’ve witnessed and felt numerous times. Guilt.

It sends a shock of a memory: holding someone’s hand, tears running down your face, a hospital bed you didn’t occupy. Your sister. Sara. How your heart ached with her absence. How guilty you felt when you assumed your father would replace her. The girl was so sweet, she didn’t deserve your hostility. The girl. Who was she?

Who was she?

A number.

9?

10?

1-

“We must start.” Brenner interrupts, and the memory is fading.

“Wait!” You stand from your seat and Owens pauses with the needle in his hand, waiting. Brenner wasn’t so patient.

“Did you change your mind?” He questions, tilting his head. He had barely moved from his seat, even in recognition to your outburst.

“No, no, I-” You glance between them, scrunching your face. “I remembered something. My sister. I have a sister.”

Brenner seems to be personally interested this time, not a usual trait he displayed. He shifts to sit a little straighter, attempting to fashion it out by placing down his clipboard and nodding.

“What about her do you remember? Anything important?”

“I…” And your voice trails away with the image of a young girl, disappearing. Your next words came out a little defeated, shoulders slumping. “I don’t know.”

“Hm.” Brenner leans back, crossing his legs. “Let’s continue, then.”

You practically deflate back into the chair, staring down at the ground with an unwavering sense of helplessness.

“No.”

Both of your heads whip to where Owens was placing the needle back on the table and shaking his head.

“She’s not ready. We’ll do it tomorrow, let her prepare herself.” He aims his declaration to the man sat in front of you, eyes holding more warning than you had expected.

“But it’s just a blood test.” You say, leaning forward. Neither of them reply. “Right?”

“Perhaps Dr Owens is right.” Brenner eventually says, standing from his chair and peeling his eyes from his colleague. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a familiar phial, the rattling noise echoing in the uncomfortable silence. “We’ll continue this later. Just take your medication for now. Dr Owens and I will confer on what’s next.”

You realise your voice wasn’t to be heard here and allow him to shake out two pills, clutching them in your hand. You held them tightly even as you left the room, weaving back through the hallways to the comforting hue of a furnished room.

Your feet took you to the water bottle on the desk by the door, instinctively raising the pills to your mouth, just like you did after every session. But this time, something makes you pause.

My sister.

You try to focus on the image of your sister, almost forcing yourself to place her features piece by piece. She was the same age Sara would have been. Oh god… Sara. How could you have let yourself forget about her? How did you let yourself forget about anything?

Hopper will be so disappointed when you find him. He taught you better. Whatever caused this amnesia was probably the result of your own stupidity. If he was in your position, he would have left this place already, regardless of memory or not. You knew he would.

So why were you still here?

Maybe you were just afraid there was no one waiting for you on the surface, dead or alive.

The little white pills were long forgotten, discarded on the desk as you trudge your way over to the couch, sinking into it like your forlorn attitude. Your eyes close with the last slip of a tear. Of all the things to forget, why couldn’t it be how awful you felt?

You didn’t realise you had drifted to sleep until the sound of the door shutting echoed through the room. You turn your head to find Owens is stood there, running a hand down his face and clutching a notebook.

“Hello?” You prompt, sitting up.

He turns to you in surprise, your unexpected presence sending a mix of emotions onto his face.

“My apologies.” He says, walking back over to the door. “I didn’t realise you were sleeping.”

“No, it’s okay.” You say, smiling. “I’m not meant to be sleeping in here anyway.”

Rather than respond, he stands awkwardly in front of the door, eyes shifting between his notebook and feet as he decides between staying and leaving. Even though you didn’t know this man, you could tell something was weighing on him, as it was you also.

“Can I ask you a question?”

His eyes dart up in surprise but he nods, clearing his throat “Of course.”

“Why are you here?”

The question lingers, his hardened expression softening into contemplation. It was almost as if he wasn’t certain of his presence here either.

“May I sit?” He asks after a little while and you smile timidly, shuffling further down the couch to make room. When he finally sinks into the cushions, he adapts a more comfortable posture, tilting his head in your direction. “I’m here because Dr Brenner asked me to be.”

“I assume you’re friends?” You ask, fiddling with the sleeves of your hoodie. A nervous habit.

“We’ve known eachother a long time.” He responds, eyes never fully meeting yours. It seemed he was dodging the truthful answer, whatever that may be. “We worked in a lab together a while ago, trying to make a difference. But before we could really do anything, I… I left.”

“Why?”

“My wife.” Owens smiles this time, a fond memory playfully tugging at his lips. He twists the silver ring on his left hand, “She was the most supportive person I knew. She was the reason I really started all of this. High school sweethearts, if you can believe it. We were going to change the world. But she got sick. Cancer. She fought for such a long time… after that, I didn’t have the energy to continue my work.”

“I get it.” You say after some contemplation. He frowns, eyeing you with curiosity. “My sister…”

His eyebrows raise, a stillness to his exterior. You pretended not to notice, pulling back at the sleeves of your hoodie.

“Grief is a very powerful thing.” He says, sighing. “Especially when you believe you have the power to save them. I just… I never had the resources.”

You nod along to his words, an unexpected similarity between you and this man you’ve never met. Just remembering Sara’s face was all your heart needed to start aching. No one really understood that before. Other than Hopper. You never gave him a chance to connect with you over her death. You suppose he didn’t, either.

After a moment, a groan leaves Owens’ mouth and he runs his hands down his face, looking up at the ceiling.

“I wanted to help people.” He admits quietly. “God, it was all I ever wanted. I was ready to find new ways to better the lives of everyone around us, to find cures, to- to discover endless possibilities of the human mind…”

“Did you?”

“In a way.” He sighs, looking at you. “Just not the way I wanted.”

You watch his smile fade into sadness, his eyes drifting to the ground.

“Are you okay?” You ask, shifting to face him on the couch.

“I am.” He states, closing his eyes. “But you aren’t.”

You frown, tilting your head. “What?”

“Brenner isn’t who you think he is.” Owens says solemnly, scared eyes burning fear into yours. “He isn’t trying to help you.”

“I- I don’t understand.”

“You didn’t take the pills, did you?” He glances over at the little white capsules collecting metaphorical dust on the desk. “And now you’re already starting to remember your life.”

Your eyes widen at his implication, turning your head in horror at the ‘medication’ meant to be fixing you.

“Antipsychotics.” Owens answers before you can even ask, tightening his lips. “They’re designed to lessen the effects of extreme psychosis but only in smaller doses. The pills Brenner has administered to you are… they are more than anyone should take, especially those with amnesia. They aren’t curing you, Y/n. They’re making your memory worse.”

“Why would he do that?” You shake your head, unsure who to trust. But this man in front of you had more emotions than Brenner has displayed to you in the past two weeks.

Trust no-one, your dad would say, only trust yourself.

But how could you do that when you quite literally couldn’t remember who you are?

Owens tries to answer when he suddenly looks up at the door, panicked.

“Hide.” He says, gently tugging your arm and ushering you off the sofa and towards the closet.

“Here?” You question, but you make no effort to stop him guiding you over to it.

“Behind here is a vent system. I cut out a panel of the closet so you should be able to access it. It’ll lead you to the other side of the lab- bunker. You need to get through it quickly and pretend like none of this happened. It’s not an escape, but it’ll make it look like you were never in this room, you hear me?”

“What? Why?” You stumble into the wooden structure, turning to catch his arm before he could close the door. There were so many questions you needed to ask, but there would never be enough time to have them answered. “What’s going to happen?”

“Look, kid.” He says almost sadly, a small smile on his lips. “He isn’t who you think he is. I need you to act like everything is okay. Don’t take the pills, radio your friends- I’ve heard them on one of the frequencies before. But, most importantly, don’t let him catch you.”

“Don’t let him catch me.” You repeat, but it wasn’t a question. Don’t let him catch me. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. Protect yourself, protect your friends. You’ll need eachother if you ever want to stop it.”

“Stop what?”

A rushed echo of footsteps can be heard from the other side of the door, pulling away Owens’ attention. Your heart sank. It was too late.

“Room 237. He needs you.” He whispers, grabbing the closet door before you can object. “Now, go. Don’t look back.”

Owens carefully shuts it and plunges you into darkness, only a slither of light peeking between the cupboard doors. You turn around to see exactly what he had described, crouching to carefully remove the cover. It barely made a sound and you sigh in relief just as a louder noise filled the room.

Brenner swung the door open and closed in one swift motion, stepping onto the carpet where he found Owens sat at the couch, skimming through a notebook.

You place a hand inside the vent, testing its structure. Rock solid.

“Did you tell her?” Brenner questions and despite every instruction you were given, you paused.

“Tell her what?” Owens responds with a casual tone. But even you could hear the slight incline in his voice behind the wooden doors, a tell-tale sign he was hiding something.

“Where is she?”

“She hasn’t been here. I’ve been sat here for a while waiting.” He shrugs. “She’s probably wandering about again.”

“Hm.”

Silence. You wince. You couldn’t make an escape if you didn’t have the tone of their voices to distract it.

“I heard the transmissions.” Brenner states lowly. “I know what you’ve done, Sam.”

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“Don’t lie to me!” He suddenly roars, making you flinch. You haven’t ever seen him like this. You weren’t even aware he was capable of it.

“Fine!” Owens yells back, standing from the couch and throwing his notebook onto the cushions. “Fine. I sent out a call for help. She doesn’t deserve to be locked up in here, Martin. None of us do. You’re going too far.”

“Too far? This could be our only saviour.”

“No. It’ll be your saviour.” Owens raises his chin.“You’re the only one that needs this. Let the girl go. I won’t ever speak of this again. I’ll be out of your hair.”

Brenner sighs. He stares at his friend for a moment, something dark lurking behind his eyes.

“You’ve been a good friend to me all these years.” He smiles. It was unsettling this time. Almost like it didn’t belong to him. “I do hope you understand.”

Owens frowns, lips parting to inquire his cryptic words. The question never hit the air.

Brenner pulls out a gun from behind his back and shoots Owens directly in the chest.

Your hands fly to your mouth in a quick motion, suppressing an urge to scream out. You watch Brenner through that tiny little gap, tears pooling in your eyes as the man looks down at his former friend with nothing but disgust.

“We could have changed the world, Sam.” He says as his final farewell.

A twitch of Owens’ hand on the carpet catches your attention. You can just hear the choked gasp of breath leave his mouth in response.

It doesn’t return.

Brenner swiftly pockets his gun again and fishes out a key in his shirt. Without a second glance, he leaves the room, the click of a lock echoing back through.

All you could hear was your thundering heart beat against your eardrums, arms tight around your legs. Brenner just killed him. He killed him. And if he knew what you had just witnessed, he would surely kill you too.

You take another look at Owens’ body, shuddering at the thought of dying the same fate. You shouldn’t leave him like that. What if he was still alive?

Don’t look back, he had said with the last remaining urgency in his soul. He told you to leave. So that’s what you had to do, even if every cell in your body was screeching for you to sit here in a puddle of your tears and wait until someone came to save you. You knew even if you gave in to your fear, no one would come.

So, instead, plant your shaking hands on the cool metal of the vent and climb your way through, choking back the sobs scratching at your throat.

Chapter Twenty-Two: coming soon...

taglist:

@sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose .

@palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear . @sattlersquarry . @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep . @sadslasher13 .

@iliveonteaandbooks . @innercreationflower . @newyorkangelbaby . @totally-bogus-timelady . @pansexualhoor .

@kitdjarin1 . @chiliwhore . @carolineesnell .

[spacebaby1]

Only mine (3)

Sanzu Haruchiyo x Reader

The waiting in the living room in complete quietness was lulling you back to sleep. Yawning, you sat down on the soft carpet, laying your head on the ground, and you fell asleep.

After a few hours of workout and training, the bonten men left the gym room. "I'm never training with you, Haitani," Kakucho said, leaving ahead. Ran smiled, "Just say you're no match to my speed." Meanwhile, Sanzu waited for them all to leave before checking in on you, his brows frowned when he did see you in the living-room only to walk further and find you asleep near the couch snoring softly. He carefully made his way to carry you on the couch, but the moment he slid his arm underneath your head, you flinched awake almost slamming your back on the couch, "Shh shh it's just me, its alright." You looked at his face half covered with that mask, "Come on, let's get you on the couch. The ground is cold, or do you wanna sleep?" You shook your head and sat on the couch rubbing your eyes. He nodded and made was making his way upstairs when you grabbed his hand, "Humm? Do you need something?" He asked, and you just pointed at the huge Tv, he smiled, "want me to turn it on?"

You nodded, "P-please." Your request came out as a low voice that he thought he was hallucinating your voice. Immediately grabbing the remote, he turned it on, "What do you wanna watch? News? Series? Cartoon?"

You just shrugged unaware why do you even want to watch tv. Your father never let you watch TV. You only saw pictures of it in the magazines you'd find in your fathers office. "Okay, here's the remote. This button changes the channels, I'll take a quick shower and come back. Can you stay here till I'm back?" You took the remote and nodded.

Sanzu could hear the channels changing as he went upstairs for a quick shower, he ended up taking an hour long shower before getting dressed and coming back to find you sitting near the TV on the ground looking up at the anime. You seemed fascinated by the anime. He chuckled to himself that you were completely unaware he was there, "You're watching One piece?" You turned your head towards him and shrugged, his hand found their way on his hips before he motioned at the TV with his eyes, "that anime, one piece." Something flicked in your eyes when he said that, and you repeated his words to yourself, "one piece." He came by to ruffle your hair before speaking, "You'll hurt your eyes sitting under the TV like this, you can sit on the couch, there." You looked at him then at the couch before speaking, "i-I can't s-see."

Sanzu crouched down in a panic, "what do you mean? Are your eyes hurting?" You shook your head.

"I-uh- blurry, from couch. The TV."

He blinked at you, calming down a bit that you weren't in pain, "you mean as in you wear glasses?" You shook your head. "Have you ever worn glasses?" Again, no. He went to grab his glasses from the table before putting them on you, and your jaw dropped as you looked around then at the TV. You smiled before getting up and walking next to the couch behind you, "Can you see now?" You nodded happily, holding the legs of the glasses, preventing them from falling. Sanzu sighed happily when you sat down and continued watching the TV happily.

Sanzu heard you laughing from the living room as he was making breakfast for you, he wished you'd laugh and talk more with him because one day in and he already feels like he'll kill for you. He placed a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, strawberries on the table, "Eat up, need anything else?" You shook your head sitting down near the table.

"Thank you, sir."

He chuckled, ruffling your hair, "Don't call me that, call me Sanzu or Haruchiyo." You'd tens up every time he ruffled your hair, but isn't that supposed to be comforting? He thought he liked it when someone ruffled his hair. The bell ringing made him almost jump. He left to get the door only to find Hajime standing there, "got the paperwork that you needed. How's she? Alive?" Sanzu gave him an annoyed look making Hajime sigh, Sanzu opened the door for him to enter but Hajime waved at him, "Nah, I need to get going but I want you to know that I did my search on her and she's completely innocent from her father's work. That man treated her like a monster, not a father. I'll send you the file. Bye."

Sanzu saw you eating and fully focused on the TV as Hajime's words ran through his head. No wonder why you reacted the way you did when Sanzu touched you.

[lelengerine]

Can I request boyfriend!Haechan being jealous of his member after his s/o fell asleep on their shoulder instead of his

i’m so sorry i got to this late,,, college really takes the life out of u ;0; also i think i made this prompt a little more playful than just pure jealousy and i'm not sure if its entirely what you're looking for, but i still hope you like it and thank you for sending in the req!

midnights

pairing | gamer!hyuck x reader

genre | established relationship au, purely fluff as far as i can say, another round of the streamer/gamer hyuck agenda, haechan uses nicknames for reader (cutie, lovie, baby) but no specific prns are used!

wc | 1.1k

m.list

its currently four in the morning and a new game loads for the nth time on the big monitor displayed right in front of your living room. you’re not even sure what game it is at this point, feeling your eyelids droop the longer you keep them open, yet haechan and jeno are wide awake — presumably from the amount of red bulls they’ve consumed in the past hour, a couple of neon colored cans now scattered around.

haechan invited his friend group over to a game night turned sleepover at your shared apartment. it wasn’t like you minded. in fact, you enjoyed the company of his friends from time to time, and the crowd of people wouldn’t hurt considering you had a couple of guest bedrooms readily available for them.

the ones who are in the midst of playing are practically the only two standing soldiers left. jaemin and jisung had retreated to scrolling on their phones, mark passed out on the bean bag by the corner of the room who knows how long ago, and renjun’s sat on the couch — watching the (not so) friendly match alongside you.

“how long do you think they’ll be at it?” your words are a little groggy as you hug the pillow that was laying on your lap, tone laced with sleepiness.

“i bet another hour if we’re being honest here.” renjun replies back softly, letting out a small yawn after as he mindlessly continues to watch the two play.

the yelling from your boyfriend and jeno begins to sound like static noise passing through your ears, making you even more drowsy than you already were. “another hour it is. wake me up by then, would you?” 

“yeah, sure. if i don’t fall asleep either.” a small laugh resounds out of your seat mate’s chest, and you begin to bury your head in the pillow you were hugging earlier, sinking yourself into the plush fabric. 

it doesn’t take too long for your consciousness to slip away into a deep slumber, body beginning to grow heavy as every minute slowly passes by. perhaps that’s why it never registered that you were beginning to lean on your side, your head eventually landing by renjun’s arm.

though he does get startled by the sudden weight on his side, he couldn’t find the strength within him to move you back into place—the drowsiness kicking in his system as well—and so, he just let you be, deciding it would be best to succumb to sleep himself.

another hour does indeed pass by just as renjun predicted, and the two are still at each other’s throats for a final round. the room is silent, yet neither of them really cared. the only sound in the room being the mashing of controller buttons to hit combos. 

“i finally win, loser!” haechan abruptly cheers once a victory flag is displayed on his side of the screen, signaling the end of their time playing.

“yeah, after like what? five rounds?” jeno chuckles, not a dent in his pride for losing a single time to the boy beside him. 

“Whatever!” haechan quickly sets his controller down, still feeling proud despite jeno’s jab at his supposed gaming skills. “they say the last game is always the most important one.” 

“sure…” jeno eyes his competitor briefly before getting up to stretch, “anyways, i’m going to go get a glass of water.” 

“get me one too.” jaemin mumbles from the side, half-awake and still doing who knows what on his phone. “got it jaem.”

that now left haechan all to himself and his first instinct was to go looking for you, shocked that he found you right behind him, your face comfortably sandwiched between the pillow you were holding and renjun’s side.

he doesn’t know what urged him to rush over to where you were residing, completely dismissing renjun’s presence as he gently gets a hold of your sleeping figure to bring you back to the comfort of your bed. “guys, i’ll be back. just gotta bring y/n to our room.”

a responsive hum from jaemin is all he needs, and he’s already whisking you away to your bedroom, laying you on the fluffy duvet that covers the bed with care.

he crouches down to stare at you for a moment, a small pout on his face. “lovie, i can’t believe you’d snuggle with renjun. on our couch nonetheless!” he whines in a whisper, knowing you wouldn’t hear anything he’d say.

“can’t believe you’d replace me that quick.” a finger of his pokes your cheek once, then twice, then twice turns into a couple more times, and before he knew it, he accidentally wakes you up.

“hyuuuckie, why aren’t you asleep?” you prolong your speech with eyes only half way open, not really registering anything into your brain. 

your boyfriend can only chuckle at your drowsy state, finding your actions endearingly cute. “sorry, lovie. i just finished a game with jeno, but we’ve called it quits for now.” he tries to explain slowly for the sake of you understanding him. 

“then come to bed! i need my teddy bear.” you huff defeatedly, now making grabby hands his way, and haechan feels his heart bursting with giddy adoration. you weren’t one to usually act this way so haechan would cherish every moment you’d let your guard down in front of him and stored it in his mind like he was collecting a jar of water during a time of drought. this was certainly one of those times.

“you need your teddy bear?” you nod a single time as haechan repeated your words. he originally planned to help with the clean up after bringing you over to the bed, but how could he just leave you all alone after that? “okay, loviee. your teddy is going to bed with you.” he coos all giggly, easily swayed by the sight before him.

haechan lifts up the covers of his side of the bed, laying down in one, swift motion. you seek out his warmth just as quickly, shifting towards his direction to wrap your arms around his waist before falling back to sleep. 

“cutie baby.” he utters out under his breath, before letting out a yawn, already feeling himself tire out — the hours of constant gaming quickly catching up to him. soon enough, he drifts off in your embrace, forgetting his friends just outside the room.

“hey, where did hyuck say he was going again?” jeno questions as he rounds the corner of the couch, beginning to pick up the litter he and haechan had left behind on the floor.

jisung quickly points in the direction of the master bedroom, and jeno could only groan in frustration, already knowing his clean up partner wouldn’t be coming out of there any time soon (or at all for that matter).

[unsolved-duvall]

i’m just thinking about how much eddie loves when you play with his hair or try new hairstyles on him

like you could be watching a movie and then he’d ask you to randomly braid his hair or something

and he loves doing the same with you like at the end of the night he loves to brush your hair for you especially because it calms you down after a big day and helps you fall asleep

𝐑𝐮𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 - 𝐞.𝐦.

You are the only person Eddie will let touch his hair. It’s not even because he’s overly precious about his hair, he just doesn’t like people touching him. At all.

Except for you.

You were sat watching a movie together, it was the early hours of the morning and the only light in the room came from the flickering picture on the tv, and the burnt-orange streetlights that flood in through the gaps in the curtains. Eddie was lay leaning against the back of the couch, legs spread with one hand across the back of the couch and the other resting on his thigh.

You were leaning against him, head resting on his shoulder, your body, heavy with sleep, sinking into the couch below you. The blanket Eddie had subtly thrown over you made staying awake all but impossible. But you fought to keep your eyes open, simply wanting to spend as much time with your boyfriend as possible.

So, you lifted your head and turned your body to face him. He didn’t flinch at your movements, his brown eyes entirely focused on the movie. You lifted a hand to run through his hair as you lay your head against the back of the sofa, perfectly content on watching your boyfriend instead of the movie, the way the light from the tv danced across his face, illuminating his soft features, had your chest tightening at how pretty he was.

You hadn’t even realised you had started to braid his hair. That was until Eddie twisted his neck to finally look at you. He had felt you start to play with his hair ten or so minutes ago, it was something you’d never done before. If he was being honest, he was almost ready to tell you that he didn’t like his hair being played with. But then your soft fingers had ran along his scalp and down the length of his hair and he didn’t want to tell you to stop. So he didn’t.

“What’re you doing, sweetheart?” his soft voice cut through the room. Making you jump a bit, neither of you having spoken for the last hour or so. Your eyes darted to where you had his soft hair intertwined in your fingers, his curls falling around the ring Eddie had given you for your last birthday, and you felt your cheeks blush a deep crimson.

“Oh… I- I didn’t realise, sorry Eds” your voice barely above a whisper, but he heard you all the same. He couldn’t help the lovestruck smile that took over his face. He saw your brows knit together in confusion at his reaction.

“It’s okay. I didn’t mind it” he told you, reaching a hand out to feel the braid you had unknowingly woven into his hair. You matched his smile and leant your head back onto his shoulder, he pulled you in as close as was possible and you soon fell into a deep sleep against each other, the movie long abandoned, still playing in the background.

After that night it practically became a routine for you to play with his hair. You would be sat on the sofa, the tv on or a book in your hands, Eddie sat on the floor in front of you, busy doing something. Writing away in his notepad that rested on the coffee table in front of him. You had heard him sigh a couple of times, but you assumed it was in relation to whatever he was writing down. The third time he sighed you reached a hand out to scratch his back in comfort, still not taking your attention away from what you were doing.

Comforting Eddie had become a reflex for you at this point.

Your hand ran over his back a few times but he didn’t seem to relax in his normal way, you turned your attention to him to see what was going on. The sound of your voice calling his name got him to turn around and look at you.

“Eddie. I love you but if you don’t tell me what you want in the next five seconds I will have to lock you outside the next time you go for a cigarette.” he feigned hurt at your words and you giggled at his reaction, your hand rubbing smoothing circles over his back, your love for him obvious, despite your threat.

“You wouldn’t dare” Eddie retaliated. “What would you tell Wayne when he came home in the morning to find his poor nephew left to freeze outside, huh?” his gaze flitting between looking at your eyes and down to his lips.

The boy couldn’t hold his focus for more than a second at a time, you swear.

“Wayne likes me more than you” you said simply. Eddie let out a genuine laugh at your blunt statement, not even having to try and look shocked.

You knew it wasn’t true. Wayne loved Eddie more than either of them would ever admit. But Wayne did love you, a lot. You spent more time at their trailer than you did at home. In fact, you didn’t remember the last time you had spent a night in your own bed.

Your attention stayed on Eddie as you saw him debate something in his mind. Panic flickered through you suddenly at the realisation that something might be wrong. but then Eddie only said “can you play with my hair again?” and you couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of you.

You immediately threw your hand over your mouth to stop your laugh, not wanting to upset Eddie. You weren’t laughing at him. Well, okay, you were a bit. But out of pure love. Love so intense you didn't know how to express it sometimes.

You pushed his shoulder to turn him around, and before he could protest you said “d’you want me to play with your hair or do you wanna argue, pretty boy?”

Eddie didn’t say another word.

From there on out Eddie would ask you almost every night to play with his hair, whether you were sat on the couch or on his bed, you knew at some point he would ask. Sometimes you just ran your fingers through it, other times you braided it, put in a bun or ponytail, practicing little hairstyles to wear in your own hair.

One time dustin came over and saw Eddie’s hair in a braid.

Eddie didn’t let you touch his hair for a week after that.

Dustin still brought it up whenever he could. He loved you both, but it was his duty to make fun of Eddie. Obviously.

Soon enough Eddie started playing with your hair too. He had done it occasionally ever since you started dating. But now it became more persistent.

Every night, without a shadow of a doubt, you knew Eddie would play with your hair until you feel asleep. Sometimes he’d lay behind you, your legs intertwined as he gently played with the hair that fanned over your face. sometimes he’d pull you into his chest and play with your hair as it fell behind you on the pillow. If you had a really long day he would make you sit on the bed with him, placing his legs around you as you sat in between them, and he would brush your hair until your eyes went heavy and you were leaning all your body weight against his chest. He’d let you sleep like that for however long you needed.

A few years into the relationship you asked Eddie if he was ever going to cut his hair, you definitely didn’t want him to, you just asked out of sheer curiosity.

He looked at you like you were speaking a foreign language. He would never cut his hair, not as long as you were around.

Which, he hoped, was forever.