#I honestly think a lot of the ''I don’t want children to read about X'' rhetoric boils down to

[butyoudidthis4what]

Perfumer

Jack Abbot x Reader

1.5k || All of my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: none I think. Hinted at sex and suggestiveness but that's about it really.

Summary: Jack smells the perfume you're wearing, flirty fluffy happy teasing ensues. That's it, that's the fic. Established relationship. No use of y/n or related. Zero proofreading of any kind. No beta.

A.N.: The summaries and titles will not be getting better I fear. After getting out some sadness in that last one I just needed something fluffy and happy and flirty. This is very self-indulgent as I love perfume and wish I had Jack Abbot giving me some and then smelling it on me, and telling me I smell good, you know? Honestly I'm quite shocked I wrote anything with like no level of angst in it that was just fluff. But my mental health needed some pure happy fluff with him so here we are. Anyway, this is exceptionally short for me and as with last time this is my first time back writing fanfic in a longggg time so please be gentle and kind and also let me know if you like it! The ending is very open, so there's definitely part two potential depending upon reception and if anyone would like.

“I should have known the trail of smell good was you. You always smell good.” Santos comments as she walks up to you while you stand by the center desk. “Do you own like a thousand perfumes or something?” 

Jack’s head popped up from looking at the tablet in his hands a few rooms down from the desk at ‘smell good,’ correctly assuming it meant you were here. You can feel his eyes on you and look over at him. “Probably not a thousand, but a lot, yes. I collect them.” 

“Why? Aren’t women supposed to want, like, a signature smell or whatever?” She tilts her head at you. 

You start smirking but Robby beats you to it. “Oh, she has to keep Abbot on his toes somehow.” 

“What does that even mean?” She looks between you, Robby, and Jack.

You bite your lip and stifle a laugh. It’s nice, having your relationship out in the open, having been able to get to know Jack’s friends. He’s still quite private though, which you respect, and know Robby is flirting with the line. You weren’t going to go quite as far, but can’t help the way it made you smile, in large part because it’s true.

It’s become somewhat of a game for you and Jack. You wear a different perfume everyday and he guesses what it is. He’s good at it, which isn’t surprising, he’s good at everything he does. It’s a nice way to have a close moment together. He likes buying them for you too to keep the game interesting.

It lets him read your moods a bit too. He’s learned that when you’re a bit down you have a tendency to go for perfumes that are heavier in a sense, more warm and comforting. And if you don’t wear perfume he knows it means things are bad because you don’t want to end up associating a smell with however you’re feeling or what you’re going through. He also swears they mix with your chemistry and smell different at certain times during your cycle. You don’t know why you found the idea of him being able to smell that on you so hot, but you very much did.

Recently you’d taken to layering some of them, in part to be creative and in part to make it more challenging for Jack.

“It means-” Robby starts.

“Okay, can we just not?” Jack asks as he walks over to you, shooting Robby a look and standing next to you. 

“I just think it’s cute how-”

“Still talking.” Jack cuts Robby off. 

“How the tables turn.” Robby shoots back, making Jack roll his eyes. 

“I was just trying to help-” Jack starts.

“Now, now, boys, no fighting in front of the children.” You fake scold them. This time they both roll their eyes at you. 

“Go back to work since you all still want to be here past your shifts.” Jack tells everyone, grabbing your hand and leading you to the doctor’s lounge. 

You expect a kiss and hug now that you’re in private, but instead you’re met with him pressing his chest to your back, one hand coming to hold one of your hips and the other moving your hair off one shoulder and tilting your neck before he leans in close to breathe you in. You can feel the soft skin of one of his lips brush against you and the stubble from him not shaving for a day. 

“Jack,” you breathe, heavier than you mean to, one hand coming to rest on his hand on your hip and the other reaching up to cup his face. 

“Celeste,” he murmurs against your skin. He’s right so you nod. That’s the name of the perfume you’re wearing on your neck and wrists today. “No wonder Santos picked up on you. Heavy sillage.” He gives you a kiss to the neck before pulling back to spin you and give you one to the lips. You smile as he does. “Stop smiling so I can kiss you properly.”

That makes you laugh, but you’re able to control it and in turn he’s able to kiss you properly, how you deserve to be kissed. “I love that you know what that word means and actually used it. It’s kind of hot.” You give him another kiss. “I’m making my military man into a perfumer.”

He hums at you, low and from the back of the throat. He loves it when you call him yours. “If you ever told anyone I would deny all knowledge of having a clue about what sillage and gourmand and all of the other pretentiously fancy perfume related words mean.” 

“I never would. Couldn’t ruin your reputation could I, Dr. Abbot? Plus I like having our little secrets.” You let your voice trail down on the last sentence, run your hands all over his scrub top.

His eyes darken just a little and his jaw tightens. He never really had any sort of title kink before he met you, but there’s something about the way ‘doctor’ slips off your tongue that really gets to him. Same with sir. 

“You’re not here for an ED related reason, are you? Hurt? Sick?” It’s teasing but there’s just enough of a tinge of real concern to the question that melts you. 

“I am not, no. I promise if I ever was here for such a reason I would make sure you knew immediately.” You smile at him softly, run a hand through the salt and peppery curls you love so much. “I just wanted to lay eyes on you, even if only for a moment. I missed you extra today. I’ll let you get back to work.” He nods, the little smile he gives you saying everything it needs to. You share one last kiss before going to leave the room.

“Oh,” you say, turning around and shutting the door again. “You’ve only answered half the question today. I just thought you should know.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You layered scents?”

“No.” You shake your head and smirk. He narrows his eyes a little as he tries to find the answer in your eyes. It suddenly clicks.

“Fuck me, your ankles?” He groans. “You put a different one on your ankles? Why?” He can already feel himself starting to fill out. He doesn’t know if he could articulate why he finds it so hot when you put perfume on your ankles for him to discover but he does. 

Your smirk widens. “For a fun surprise and to see the look on your face when I told you.” He glances around the room and then gets a look on his face like he’s thinking. You’re shocked, honestly. It’s so out of character for him to think about trying to do it at the hospital. It’s only happened twice. “Oh no,” you laugh, “no, no, no, Jack rabbit, you are not finding out here at the hospital, so don’t even think about places you could take me to try and find out.” 

He makes a noise of protest, somewhere between a growl and a whine that makes you bite your lip. He pins your back to the door with his hips and rolls them against you, grinding him into you to let you feel what you’ve done to him. “So what, I’m just supposed to go around like this for the rest of my shift?”

“Well you might want to take a couple of minutes to let that go down baby, but yes. You can finish your shift thinking about what could be on my ankles and what position it is you’re going to put me in to find out.” You press a kiss to his collarbone and his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, an unspoken command to look at him. 

You pull back and do as he asked. So big on eye contact, your Jack. He blinks at you, jaw clenched. “I’m going to be half hard and uncomfortable there for the rest of my shift, you know that right?”

“I am nothing if not a cruel woman.” You say with fake solemnity as you smooth your hands over his chest. “I’m sure as you get drawn back into work it’ll go away. Plus, you know the anticipation and wait makes it better.”

He somehow steps closer to you, almost puts a knee between your legs and leans in close, dropping his voice and making his voice even more gravely. “I want you to remember those words because you’re going to find out all about them once I’m home and I don’t want to hear any complaining.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you threatening to edge me, sir?” His jaw grinds and you see the slightest twitch under your eye that makes you smirk. You love that you can affect him like this.

“I don’t make threats, Doll.” He whispers at your ear as he steps back from you and pulls the door to the lounge open for you both to walk out of. Everyone glances up at the two of you, effectively forcing you to control your reaction as he keeps his voice low, only for you to hear. “Only promises I intend to keep.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Two is here!

[rekilover]

Sieun x reader draft? idk.

Tiring—that was Sieun’s daily life.

Even though he now had a new group of friends, whenever he had to walk to school alone, the feeling of loneliness and guilt never left him. There was nothing he hated more than remembering those fight, and the accident that left Suho laying in that hospital bed.

—Sieun! —Juntae appeared in front of him, waiting at the school entrance. Sieun barely reacted, muttering a nearly inaudible “hi.”

—Y/N is already upstairs in the classroom with the others. We have to do a group project, hurry up!—He made a pleading motion with his hands and a small pout on his lips.

Sieun looked at him with slight confusion, and for a moment, his mind recalled when Juntae dragged him into a classroom full of anime posters—just the memory sent a shiver down his spine.

Once they reached the classroom, some desks were grouped together. Sieun looked for his empty seat and noticed that now there were other desks around his. Y/N’s seat was right next to his, with Baku and Hyuntak seated in front, and Juntae beside him.

Sieun silently analyzed the scene and sat down.

—Hey, Sieun, we’re betting on who can score more in basketball. Who do you think’s better me or Hyuntak?. —Baku asked in a tone that was serious but almost teasing, his expression practically begging for Sieun to pick him so he could boast about it with a huge grin.

—I have no idea. — Sieun glanced up for a second, not really seeing the point of answering a question that would only end with both friends fighting like children and trying to surpass the other on the game.

—Honestly, I think Baku would win. When it comes to strength, maybe they’re both about the same—but willpower is something Baku has a lot of, and that’s what you need to win. So, yeah, he’d definitely take it in a match. —Y/N jumped in on the bet, supporting Baku.

Sieun kept his eyes on the project guide, but paused for a moment to listen to her response.

—You guys shouldn’t compete! You’re both awesome in your own way. I wish I had your strength. — Juntae laughed softly and made punching motions in the air.

Laughter came from the three watching him, except from the boy still focused on the project. Y/N glanced sideways at Sieun. She loved how focused his gaze looked. His eyes seemed like they were made of tapioca—dark and sweet.

Her heart, the traitor that it was, started beating quickly. Her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. Baku noticed and shot her a playful look, raising and lowering his eyebrows suggestively, urging her to talk to Sieun.

But what could she say?

“How are you? Did you sleep well?”

He always answered with short replies. If she wanted the conversation to last more than a few seconds, she needed to ask something with more depth.

“What do you think happens after death? Do you think God exists?”

Y/N sighed loudly, overwhelmed by how hard it was to think of a simple topic to bring up with the boy she liked, who was sitting just inches away.

Luckily for her, Sieun had heard that sigh and turned to look at her, setting his pencil down on the desk.

—Are you okay?

His gaze now held a sense of concern—his eyes so deep they seemed to weigh on the person they looked at.

—Ah, yeah. Just nervous with exams coming up, that’s all.— The girl stumbled over her words, waving her hands as if to calm him down, but avoiding eye contact.

Sieun tilted his head slightly in confusion. He sometimes had a hard time reading her.

—You should try these vitamins I gave to Sieun! They help with sleep. — Juntae handed Y/N some melatonin gummies, which she inspected with curiosity and decided to taste.

—Don’t eat them now! —Juntae panicked and snatched the pack back. —You’re supposed to take them before bed.

—Relax, it was just two. I wanted to try the flavor.—She laughed, trying to calm her flustered friend.

Hours passed, and the effects of the gummies started to kick in. Classes now felt twice as boring. The project class had ended, and the desks were back in their usual layout.

Y/N laid her head on her arms, turned slightly toward Sieun, who was still diligently taking notes. Yet, every time she closed her eyes for a second, he’d sneak a glance at her, curious about that steady gaze she gave him.

And before long, Y/N fell asleep, her body resting on her desk, which now felt as comfy as a bed.

She dreamed of trying a new candy she’d seen on TikTok, opening the wrapper, and just as she was about to take a bite—

—Y/N, class is over.

Someone gently shook her right shoulder to wake her.

Still half-asleep, she stretched and wiped away the drool from her mouth. —Baku, is that you?

—No, it’s Sieun.

“Shit, shit, shit.” she panicked inside, horrified by the state he’d seen her in.

—Looks like I fell asleep. That’s bad, haha, stuff like that happens.— Y/N shot up quickly, staring at the desk, avoiding looking at the boy behind her.

—Hey… are you really okay?

Sieun’s voice was a bit softer now, soothing enough to make the girl finally turn and look at him—and those deep eyes.

This time, she didn’t let nerves overwhelm her.

For the first time, the rest of the world faded away, and it was just this boy with deer-like eyes in front of her.

—Sieun… what’s your type of person? —The question escaped her lips before her mind could stop it.

He let out a small sound of confusion, and the faintest hint of blush appeared on his ears.

He looked away, his gaze wandering over the board and walls, before finally resting on her again.

—I don’t have a specific type, but…— He scratched the back of his neck, uncertain.— I guess someone who’s honest with themselves is nice. I don’t know… it’s not something I think about much.

Y/N smiled—gently, cheerfully. It was a simple answer, one she could relate to. Feeling hopeful, she gathered some courage and quickly leaned in to kiss his left cheek.

Surprised, Sieun’s eyes widened—he stopped breathing for a second.

Before he could say anything, Y/N had already rushed out of the classroom.

His heart was pounding strangely, fast. Not knowing how to handle the unfamiliar sensation, he lightly punched his chest.

—Stop it. This isn’t right. —he muttered to himself. —They’ll hurt her if they see her with me.

He stared at the floor, his hand clutching his school shirt in frustration.

The helplessness and bitterness ran through his thoughts and body, so he simply sat in silence for a while in that classroom—his gaze trembling.

He hated feeling this way.

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 2 (Evan Buckley x Reader) (Eventual Buddie x Reader)

Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1

Chapter Summary: Buck faces a few challenges, and you're there for some of them.

A/N: This is such a niche story and I am desperate for validation, please tell me if you enjoyed reading! Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: descriptions of gun violence, mental health issues/suicide ideation (nothing overly graphic IMO)

Unlike some people who work in this building, you know how to take orders. So, instead of dragging your feet and prolonging the inevitable, you go to Bobby’s office the second you get back from the call. Hen tries to say something to you, but you’re so focused on having this conversation behind you that you ignore her. 

Despite the door being cracked open, you knock a few times. 

“Come in,”  Bobby says. 

You step in. He looks up. 

“Ah,” he remarks as if it’s a surprise to see you. “You can close the door behind you.” 

You close the door and lean against it. 

“Have a seat,” Bobby instructs as he files through some random papers. 

You let out a sigh. You were hoping to be in and out, but Bobby clearly has other ideas. Still, you do as you’re told. 

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened with Buck.”

As if you’d be in here for anything else. 

“Are you gonna write me up?” You ask instinctually. You’ve never been formally disciplined, so the question is gnawing at you. 

“Buck wants me to.”

You snort. “Buck wants a lot of things; most children do.”

“You’re a year younger than him,” Bobby points out. 

It’s true—Buck is 26, and you’re 25. But in this context especially, age is just a number. You’re a 25-year-old advanced practice paramedic with 3 years of experience who acts their age. Buck is a 26-year-old firefighter in his probationary period who acts like a frat boy.

“Are you going to write me up?” You repeat. 

Bobby gives you a look, then sighs with a crooked smile. “No. But if you do anything like that again, you’ll be hearing from me and Sergeant Grant.” 

“Fair enough,” you cede. 

There are a few silent beats in the conversation. This is why Bobby made you sit—he has more to say. 

“Why does he bother you so much?” Bobby asks.

“Literally everything I told him: he’s wreckless and he’s gonna get someone killed if he doesn’t change.” 

“So why not teach him to do better, to be better?”

“Trust me, Cap, I’ve tried,” you chuckle. “I mean, even earlier today, I taught him how to clear an obstruction in a neonatal airway. And honestly? For a few minutes, when he was running down the stairs with that baby in his arms, I thought, ‘Hey, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.’ And then he yells at Sergeant Grant, and he proves me wrong. Again.” 

“I’m talking to him and Sergeant Grant about how everything went down,” Bobby says. 

“I’m not telling you that to get him in trouble, I just…” You take a deep breath through your nose and let it out as a sigh. “It felt like no one was holding him accountable. And I’ve tried playing nice, and I’ve tried teaching him, and he still had the nerve to pretend that he can play god. And I just… lost it, and thought that maybe if I treat him like a man would, he would finally listen to me.”

Bobby nods, taking in everything you’ve said.  

“You think I don’t hold him accountable?” He eventually asks. 

You let out another sigh. “If Buck worked under any other LAFD Captain, they would have canned his ass about three months ago.”

“But is that the right thing to do?” Bobby counters. “This job is tough, and it isn’t something that can be taught overnight. Buck has potential—he could be an invaluable asset some day.”

“Is firing him the right call? Honestly, Bobby, I have no idea,” you admit. “But if people have to get hurt in order for Buck to be good at his job, then it isn’t worth the price.” 

Bobby ended up firing Buck a few days later. It wasn’t for what happened with Sergeant Grant; it was because, apparently, Bobby caught him having sex with some girl on a roof. He used one of the fire trucks to drive there. The moron didn’t realize they have GPS trackers. You got all of this information in a text from Hen. 

You turn the corner to the locker room, planning to put away your keys and wallet before starting your shift like you always do. You didn’t expect to see Buck sitting on the bench in front of the lockers. 

You plan on opening your locker, throwing your stuff in it, and leaving before Buck can say anything. The second you lift the lever, though, Buck turns his head towards you. 

He doesn’t say anything, and you definitely aren‘t going to break the silence. 

“So you heard, huh?” Buck says. 

You close your locker and spin the lock to scramble it. “Yeah, I did.” 

“Aren’t you going to say anything else?” 

“Tough break. Sorry, man,” you say with a shrug. You turn on your heel to leave.

“That’s it?” Buck says with a laugh. “A few days ago, you were slamming me against an ambulance, and now… nothing? Aren’t you supposed to say, ‘I told you so’?”

Buck doesn’t even work at the 118 anymore, and he still has a way of getting under your skin. You close your eyes, hoping you can gain some composure before you say anything.

“I’m sorry for pushing you; that was unprofessional,” you say and make your second attempt at leaving.

“But that’s all you're sorry for,” Buck says, rising to his feet. 

You turn around and eye him from head to toe. His chest isn’t puffed out in that hypermasculine way it normally is. Buck shifts his weight between feet, and when the pressure of your stare becomes too much, he breaks eye contact. 

“It’s like Sergeant Grant said: I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” you eventually reply.

“Then say it: you’re happy to see me go.”

Jesus Christ, he can be such a baby. 

“Okay, fine, you wanna go there?” you retort, taking a step forward. “You wanna know the worst thing about you, Buck?” 

He just looks at you. 

“You. You’re the worst thing about you. Because you could’ve been good. You’ve got decent skills, and you have heart, but you have no discipline. You can’t take orders, and you can’t look at a woman for more than thirty seconds without having sex with her. You’re a 16-year-old boy trapped in a 26-year-old man’s body, and ever since you started, you haven’t done anything to change it. You get in your own way and are too busy flirting or running your mouth to even realize it.”

You take another step towards him to ensure he hears what you’re about to say. “You could’ve been good. And I hope that shit haunts you. Because maybe, it’ll finally make you grow up.”

You start to make your exit again but linger in the doorway. You turn back around; there’s one more thing you want to say.

“I’m not happy to see you go, Evan. In fact, I was really hoping you would prove me wrong.”

And with that, you’re gone. 

You and Hen go out on a ‘shortness of breath’ call that ends up being a STEMI — a heart attack. You get him to the nearest hospital in five minutes, and if they can get him to the cath lab, he has a really good shot at surviving it. The patient’s wife hugs both you and Hen, thanking the two of you for doing such a wonderful job. You savor the feeling; most calls don’t end this way. 

When you pull into the station, there’s an engine missing. At first, you think it’s no big deal: the boys are probably out on a fire call. Then you see Bobby standing where the engine’s supposed to be.

��What’s going on, Cap?” Hen asks as she closes the door to the rig. 

“There’s an engine missing.”

“Yeah, clearly,” you chuckle. 

“There were reports of a residential break-in on Lambert Street in Winnetka,” Bobby continues. 

“Damn,” Hen whistles. 

You both heard something about that over the scanner on your drive back to the station; there was a suspected hostage, a young girl. Last you heard, the subject was trying to flee by motorcycle. 

“All of the 118 firemen are accounted for,” Bobby concludes.

You and Hen share a look. Who has a track record of borrowing engines without permission?

The truck pulls up and slowly backs into the garage. You catch a glimpse of the driver in one of the rearview mirrors. 

“Pretty Boy,” you say simply. 

Buck steps out of the truck, still wearing the jeans and long-sleeved grey shirt you last saw him in. “I know what this looks like.”

“Looks like you took the engine out in your street clothes,” Bobby says as he approaches the younger man. 

“I didn't really have time to change,” Buck counters. He doesn’t say it in his normal cocky tone, though. Frankly, he looks nervous. 

“Athena Grant called me, wanted to tell me what an asset you are.” Bobby continues. “Told her she was half right.”

Buck frowns. “Are you giving me another chance?” 

“You’ve used all your chances; so have I,” Bobby says, “because somehow I have failed to communicate to you how lucky we are to do what we do.”

Bobby starts to walk away, but Buck isn’t letting him get away that easy. 

“You're wrong, Bobby. I absolutely do get what a privilege it is to serve here,” Buck says, “and you know what? You were right to fire me.”

That makes Bobby stop dead in his tracks.

“I was a punk,” Buck continues, “still am one. But I'm a punk who understands what he lost. Just… needed you to know that.”

“I hope you mean that. Now go get dressed.” 

Buck stands cluelessly for a second, then turns to you and Hen. “I think I’m not fired.” 

“Your shift’s not over yet,” Hen points out. 

You go to follow her, but Buck stops you by calling your name. 

“I just wanted to tell you, uh…” Buck says, wringing his hands together. “I’m gonna prove you wrong.”

Normally, words like that coming out of his mouth would set your skin on fire. Between the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes, though, something in your gut tells you to hear him out. 

“Yeah?” You ask simply, waiting for him to elaborate. 

“Some day, I’ll be good,” he says, “but until then, I’ll be better.”

Buck extends a hand for you to shake. It’s the most chivalrous thing you’ve seen him do since you met him. You look at his hand, then at his eyes. There isn’t a trace of humor in his gaze. You take his hand and shake it. 

“I look forward to seeing it.”

Your first call of the shift is to an amusement park where one of the rides malfunctioned. A rider was thrown from the ride as it was moving, and it sounds like he’ll be DOA. When the operator deployed the emergency breaks, though, it meant the rest of the train stopped at the top of a loop, which one rider is now dangling out of. 

Buck is the first to volunteer to climb the ladder and harness the passenger. You’re not surprised. He’s grown a lot in the last few weeks, but he still jumps at every exciting opportunity, no matter how dangerous it may be. Maybe that’s just how Buck is. 

“Hey, he’s asking about his friend,” Buck radios once he’s at the top. 

“Chimney, how’s the kid on the ground?” Bobby radios. 

You look up and shake your head. 

“We lost him,” Chim radios back. 

“All right, I don't need the people up there seeing that. So, do me a favor... He survived, right? Get him on a gurney. You know the drill,” Bobby instructs.

“Copy that,” Chim replies. 

Once you and Chimney get him on the gurney and out of everyone’s sight, you look up at Buck. 

“Come on,” Chimney mutters encouragingly. “Come on, Buck.” 

After a painfully long minute, you see the man’s grasp on the rollercoaster falter. Then, you watch him let go. You close your eyes before you see him hit the ground, but the sound will echo off of your eardrums for a while. 

You go the rest of the night without seeing Buck; you don’t share another call, and when you’re not out in the field, you’re asleep in the bunks. It’ll probably kill you in the long run, but these days, you learn to sleep whenever and wherever you can. 

When you wake up for morning report and breakfast, Buck is already sitting at the table. You wipe the sleep out of your eyes and get a cup of coffee before sitting across from him. 

Bobby was nice enough to make breakfast; he knows how hard these calls are. No matter how many you get, it’ll never get easier. 

Bobby sets a plate in front of Buck. 

“I’m not hungry,” he says almost instantaneously. 

“This is America, Buckaroo,” Chim replies as he sets some silverware on the table. “Eating has nothing to do with being hungry.

“Man, I was right there. You know, all he had to do was reach up and grab my hand,” Buck says instead.

“People do funny things at times like that,” you offer, sipping your drink. “ Sometimes they just freeze up.”

“I’ve never lost anyone before,” Buck says quietly. He looks up at you. “Does it get any easier?” 

Bobby answers for you. “No.” 

“Look, people die, and that’s part of the gig, right?” Chim says as he sits next to you. “See, your problem is, you're looking at every job like it's a long-term relationship. They're one-night stands, man. In that moment, they mean everything to you, but once the morning comes... it's on to the next one.”

“How silly of me to think you’d say something productive,” you roll your eyes.

Chim furrows his brows. “What?”

“You’re such a man,” you say to Chim, then turn to Buck. “Look, dude, we all go through it, and you just have to figure out a way to deal with it,.” You pause. “You know why we wear these uniforms?”

“Sex appeal?” Chim answers, which earns him a quick kick to the shin from you. 

“So people can easily identify us,” Buck responds. 

“That’s true, but… I don’t know, I like to think it’s because when we take it off, we can leave it all behind us. Right now, you’re firefighter Buckley, but when your shift is over, you’re Buck. It just… symbolizes letting go, I guess.”

“I see his face every time I close my eyes,” Buck says. “Does that happen to you?” 

“It’ll pass,” you promise. 

“And if it doesn’t?”

You stare at Buck for a moment. It’s hard to imagine that this is the same man who mouthed off to a police Sergeant mere weeks ago. 

“Then you talk someone,” you eventually say. “A friend, a therapist, a bartender… you find a way to let it out, and then you let it go.”

 

Once again, you don’t see Buck for hours. You heard on the scanner that the 118 responded to several rescue calls, none requiring an RA unit. You spent the rest of your shift bouncing from call to call and ER to ER, seeing everything from stab wounds to childbirth. It’s shifts like this that remind you why you do what you do. It’s chaotic, stressful, and bloody, but it is fun. After a certain point, you don’t even have to use your brain; the adrenaline in your veins kicks your brain into autopilot, and your pounding heart is just along for the ride. 

You step into the communal locker room, completely exhausted. You still have to change, and considering everything you’ve witnessed, you should probably shower too. Most of all, you want to go home and crawl into your bed. 

Buck is sitting on the bench in the locker room, similar to how he was a few weeks ago after he was ‘fired.’ Just like you, he’s still wearing his uniform. His head is bowed between his shoulders as his elbows rest on his knees. This time, his head doesn’t perk up when you open your locker. 

“I heard you used The Manuever today,” you spark the conversation. “Nice save.”

Buck finally looks up and then chuckles quietly. “Yeah, if only I could’ve done that a few days ago.” 

You take a seat next to him. “Still thinking about Devon, huh?” 

“I’m trying not to, I just…” Buck says, then cuts himself off as he shakes his head. 

“It’s easier said than done,” you conclude. 

“Yeah.” 

“Yeah,” you agree. 

Both of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments. You open your mouth a few times only to close it. You don’t want to tell this story; you hate even thinking about it. But if you’re going to sit here and tell Buck that he has to let things go, you have to do the same. It’s only fair. 

“The first person I lost… her name was Katherine Vanec. She was 17 years old, wearing a University of Washington shirt, white shorts, and black Converse High Tops. We got a call from her mother, who was at work when she started getting strange texts from Katherine. It was supposed to be a welfare check, and when the cops got there, they found her locked in her bedroom. When fire and rescue broke down the door, she had a .22 caliber revolver pressed to her temple.”

“Jesus,” Buck mutters. 

“Katherine had a history of Borderline Personality Disorder and suicidal ideation. She figured out that her high school sweetheart had been cheating on her for almost a year. They made plans together, I guess — they were gonna go to the same school, find a place off-campus to live together. He pulled the rug right out from under her, and she couldn’t take it.”

“So what happened?”

You smile sadly. “By the time we arrived, a negotiator had been talking to her for almost ten minutes. They thought she was in a good spot that all she had to do was put the gun down, and we would swoop in and 5150 her.”

“Involuntary admission,” Buck says. 

“Yeah,” you confirm. “That didn’t happen. When the negotiator asked her to set the gun down, she lost it. She kept talking about how every time before, she chickened out, and she couldn’t let that happen again. She turned the gun on us.”

“Suicide by cop.”

You nod as a few tears well in your eyes. Even all these years later, that case haunts you. “Her finger wasn’t near the trigger; she didn’t want to hurt anyone. She just didn’t want to be alive anymore, and she couldn’t think of another way out. I can still hear the sound of the bullets tearing through her.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Buck asks softly. 

You wipe at your eyes and clear your throat. “Let it out and let it go,” you answer, then nudge his shoulder with yours. “Your turn.” 

Buck smiles; the expression is bittersweet. “I keep replaying what happened. I can’t shake this feeling that there’s something else I could’ve done. Maybe I could have grabbed his arm, or maybe there’s something I could’ve said differently.”

“Or maybe, no matter what you did, it was always going to end that way,” you suggest quietly. “Maybe he felt the same way Katherine did—like he had no other way out. We can try to rescue people, but we can’t make them want to be alive. Some people just don’t want to be saved, Buck.” 

“That really sucks.”

You laugh. “Yeah, it does. I guess that’s why we have each other; it makes it suck a little less.” 

“‘Each other’ as in you and me?” Buck asks in a lighthearted tone. 

You roll your eyes, but secretly, you’re thankful for the change of pace. “‘Each other’ as in the 118, which technically includes you and me.” 

“Sounds like a copout.” 

You laugh and clap a hand on Buck’s shoulder before standing. “Have a good night, Buck.”

You make it to the doorway before he says your name. You look back at him. 

“Thank you,” he says softly. 

You bite your lip, but it isn’t enough to conceal your smile. “Anytime.” 

Ch 3

[alaia777]

HIIII I hope you’re doing good! I just LOVE YOUR WORKS!! And I just saw that your request were open soooo… (It isn’t actually a request at first I just wanted to share a thought I had and you can write something for it if you want or ignore it as well it’s fine too but I just felt like sharing this idea!)

So basically, I was thinking about a Reo x Reader in which the scenario would basically be:

Reader is a friend of bachira, Isagi & Chigiri (obviously reader is chaotic & unserious if friend of bachira) and like Reo rlly likes reader’s vibes and kind of fall in love with her, but he doesn’t allow himself to have these feelings for her because he thinks reader is not from the same world as him and his parents will never accept him dating someone like that.

BUT dot dot dot,

Like a week later, his parents are having like some meeting with others important persons and their children have to be there too bc why not so Reo is here, AND WHO HE FIND AT THIS MEETING? READER!! And then he realises we’re actually from a rich & high status family and he sees us acting way different than we did when he saw us hanging out with bachira, like we are now acting respectful and serious while it was the opposite when Reo first saw us, and basically Reo is like ‘wow, she’s perfect’

THANKS FOR READING MY REQUEST THROUGH ITS NOT REALLY ONE, I just felt like sharing that thought! Remember to eat & drink well, byee!

hellooo!! i really loved your idea, it was so much fun to write! i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed working on it! take care, sending you all my loveeee <333

you’ve been friends with isagi, bachira, and chigiri for a while now. you were first friends with chigiri, who introduced you to them, and honestly, it felt like you fit right in—your personality blending perfectly with the other three.

you don’t like to pick favorites since that can break friendships, but if you had to, bachira might be something close to that. he’s always buzzing with energy—while the other two can have their moments of calm, bachira never seems to run out of battery. it’s like he’s constantly on, always looking for the next thrill, the next laugh, the next game to turn life into.

and you love that—finally getting to cut loose and just have fun. with bachira, it’s always something ridiculous. once, you both convinced isagi and chigiri to have a shopping cart race in an empty parking lot. you pushed bachira at full speed while he screamed like he was in a high-speed chase, and chigiri nearly crashed into a bush because isagi was too focused on winning to steer properly.

another time, you and bachira tried to see how many arcade claw machine prizes you could win in a row, turning it into a full-blown competition. bachira ended up with a ridiculous number of stuffed animals, chigiri kept missing on purpose just to avoid carrying them, and isagi nearly broke the machine by shaking it too hard.

“this thing is obviously rigged,” he muttered.

“or maybe you just suck at it,” you teased, grinning as you pulled out yet another prize on your first try.

even the simplest things turn into adventures with them, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

there has been an addition to your friend group. well, not exactly an addition—they were already friends with the others, but you hadn’t met them before. their names were nagi and reo.

nagi was easy to figure out. he was laid-back, always looking like he was five seconds away from falling asleep, but somehow still keeping up with the chaos you and bachira stirred up. he never tried to stop it—just stood on the sidelines.

reo, though—reo was different.

he was friendly, easy to talk to, always jumping into conversations with a confidence that made him seem like he belonged. but with you, there was something else. something hesitant.

he seemed to gravitate toward you without meaning to, always ending up next to you in conversations, standing just a little closer than necessary. but then, just as quickly, he’d pull away—like he caught himself getting too comfortable. like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to.

and you couldn’t figure out why.

he could figure out why.

he liked you.

your eccentric personality, the way you always seemed to smile—not just around his friends but around him too—made his heart weak. you had this way of making everything feel exciting, like the world was a little brighter just because you were in it. and unfortunately, he knew that whatever he was dreaming of whenever he looked at you was just that—a dream.

you two were from different worlds.

he couldn’t show up to dinner with his parents and introduce you as his girlfriend. not because he didn’t want to—god, he wanted to—but because he knew exactly how that conversation would go.

“who are her parents?”

“what does her family do?”

“does she understand our world?”

and he wouldn’t have the answers they wanted to hear. because, as far as he knew, you were just an ordinary girl from an ordinary life. no name that held weight, no empire backing you, no future that had already been paved out for you like his had.

so he kept his distance. as much as he could, anyway.

except it was impossible. because no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that it wouldn’t work, that it couldn’t work, he’d always find himself right back next to you—laughing at your jokes, getting caught up in your energy, wanting more of you in ways he knew he shouldn’t.

but dreams weren’t meant to last. and this? whatever this was? it was never supposed to start in the first place.

that thought followed him everywhere—at practice, at home, and even now, as he sat stiffly at a round table, surrounded by people who spoke in dull, rehearsed tones.

these events were routine. his parents dragged him to them from time to time, expecting him to sit through dinner, shake hands, and engage in polite, empty conversations. it always bored him out of his mind. the food was expensive, the champagne flowed freely, and yet, it all felt lifeless.

there were other people his age, but they were no better. perfectly mannered, perfectly dull, sticking to scripted pleasantries that never led anywhere real.

he wanted you here.

he wanted to hear your laugh cut through the hum of forced conversation, wanted to see the way your eyes would light up whenever bachira pitched some ridiculous idea.

he could already picture it so clearly. except—

why was he actually seeing someone that looked exactly like you a few tables over?

his breath caught in his throat.

same face. same familiar spark in your eyes. but the version of you sitting there was—classier.

your hair was styled differently, and you wore a dress that looked like it cost more than someone’s monthly salary. it fit you effortlessly, draping over you in a way that made you look like you belonged here, like you were born for this world he’d convinced himself you weren’t a part of.

except it was you.

and reo felt his entire reality tilt on its axis.

he couldn’t stop himself from approaching your table, and when your eyes met his, you greeted him with a sweet smile—polished, composed, a little too perfect compared to the one he was used to.

“good evening, reo. it’s a pleasure to see you again,” you said, your voice smooth and measured.

the words felt so foreign coming from you that he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “why are you talking like that?”

for a split second, your expression wavered, the ghost of your usual smirk threatening to break through. but just as quickly, you reined it in, maintaining the same poised demeanor.

your parents, however, exchanged puzzled glances.

“honey,” your mother asked, her tone curious but polite, “do you know this young man?”

reo’s gaze flickered between you and them, his mind still struggling to reconcile the version of you he knew with the one sitting before him now.

you smiled—again, too polished, too controlled—and folded your hands neatly in your lap. “yes, mother. this is reo. we have mutual friends.”

mutual friends.

reo didn’t know why that made his stomach twist.

“is that so?” your father chimed in, looking him over with the kind of careful scrutiny reo had grown up around. “and what do your parents do, young man?”

reo didn’t answer. he was still looking at you, waiting for you to crack, to drop the act, to laugh and tell him this was all some elaborate prank. but you didn’t.

instead, you tilted your head ever so slightly and gave him that same polite smile.

and reo—who had spent weeks convincing himself that he could never be with you because you were from a different world—suddenly realized he had never known a damn thing about you at all.

reo didn’t give you a chance to react. one moment, he was standing beside your table, and the next, his hand was wrapped around yours, pulling you away from the lingering stares of your parents and the stiff, dull atmosphere of the event.

“reo—” you started, but he didn’t slow down, weaving through the elegantly dressed crowd until he found a quieter spot, a secluded balcony overlooking the city. only then did he let go, turning to face you with narrowed eyes.

“what the hell is going on?” he demanded, breath slightly uneven, whether from frustration or something else, you weren’t sure. “why were you talking like that? why are you here—like this?”

you exhaled, leaning against the cool railing. “because this is my life,” you admitted. “the one i never told you about.”

his jaw clenched. “so what? you’ve been lying to us this whole time?”

“no,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “it’s not like that. i just, i didn’t want this to matter. with you, with nagi, with bachira, with chigiri and isagi—i didn’t want to be this person. i just wanted to be me.”

reo ran a hand through his hair, his expression unreadable. “so you’re telling me you’re rich. like, stupidly rich.”

you huffed a small laugh. “yeah. basically.”

he let out a long sigh, looking away for a moment before glancing back at you. “so all this time, i thought i couldn’t be with you because i was the rich one and you weren’t.” he scoffed, shaking his head. “turns out, i was completely wrong.”

your lips parted slightly. “wait, what?”

he blinked, as if realizing what he had just admitted. his ears turned the faintest shade of red. “nothing,” he muttered quickly. “forget it.”

but you didn’t. a slow smile crept onto your lips. “reo, were you avoiding me because you liked me?”

he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “can we not do this right now?”

but you were grinning now, stepping closer. “so if i had just told you the truth from the beginning, we could’ve been on a date ages ago?”

“alright, that’s it,” he huffed, and before you could react, he grabbed your hand again, but this time, it was different. slower. more deliberate.

“dance with me,” he said.

you blinked at him. “reo, there’s no music—”

“so?” he smirked. “i bet you’re a good dancer. with all that rich people etiquette training, right?”

you rolled your eyes, but your heart was racing when he pulled you closer, one hand settling at your waist.

“if i take you on a real date,” he murmured, “you won’t run off and hide another secret life from me, will you?”

you laughed softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. “no more secrets. promise.”

reo grinned, spinning you under the city lights. “good. because i’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.”

[deangirlsstuff67]

Her Biggest Fan Part 3

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Summary: Who doesn't love a good fantasy or escape from our normal lives. When Y/N started this online adventre she never dreamed it would land her smack dab in the path of her favorite actor. Is there a chance this fantasy might become reality? And will the reality live up to the fantasy?

Warnings: fluff, talk about divorce, talk about trauma, language, soft Jensen, a little sexual innuendo

Authors Note: Here you go! I love that y’all are loving the hell out of this story. Don’t worry smut is coming !! I wouldn’t leave you guys hanging :) I love Jensen and his family. This is purely fiction and for entertainment purposes only.

Catch up with part two here | Masterlist

—————————————————————————

Jay: So can I ask why you started doing OnlyFans sweetheart?

You’re relaxing on the back deck tonight, watching the horses graze in the west pasture. Today was busy around here. Your kids came home from their dad’s house, you had your friends and their children over for a fire and BBQ. There is nothing that beats a beautiful summer evening hanging with friends.

Now the kids are tucked into bed after video chatting with your ex husband to say good night and you are finally enjoying nothing but the night creatures making noise as you decompress.

Jensen and you have been chatting all day. He’s up here in Canada filming again. I guess that means he can text more often without having his wife asking questions.

The more you talk, the more you two are becoming closer. It’s a surreal feeling considering you’ve never met the man a day in your life.

Me: At first it was for fun honestly. I am single, get bored easily, and needed the extra money anywhere I could get it. I had done it once before when I was still married, that didn’t end up going well in the end. This time around I didn’t have anyone looking over my shoulder or getting jealous constantly about something that didn’t matter in the end so I figured why not. Any side hustle I can start that can make me some extra money to throw at the life I have, I’ll take.

Jay: So the ex didn’t enjoy it?

Me: In the beginning he did. He got all the videos and photos sent to him and he even was in some of them. Helped pick out outfits. That best friend he’s with now, she was doing it with me and that was when they started getting closer and cheating on me. If I had to guess he was afraid I would do what he was already doing to me.

Jay: Ah, so it was his guilt playing with his jealousy. I guess I don’t have much room to talk.

Me: I’m going to say your situation is different. You guys are just staying together for show not so much because one of you is still holding onto hope for the marriage.

Jay: No, I don’t think many people will see it that way of it ever gets out though.

Me: People judge what they don’t know. I have a question?

Jay: Shoot!

Me: Does Danneel know about me?

There’s a long silence between it showing that he read the message and any sort of response. You’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Their marriage might be over, but they were still married to one another, how was that affecting her?

Better yet, what did that mean for you? Was she going to come after you or blame you for something. Or was she completely fine with it? There are a lot of questions now that you know who he is.

You wish you could talk to your best friend about it. Problem is you haven’t told her who Jay turned out to be. It’s not that you think she wouldn’t believe you, more that you don’t want to throw him under the bus. Jensen and you have been developing a good foundation for a deeper connection between you, while you know your best friend wouldn’t say a word, you still feel like you shouldn’t say anything without his consent.

Especially considering who he is and what he’s currently going through. Divorce is rough as hell without some woman running her mouth and it getting out to the world.

Ding.

Jay: Yes, she knows that I’m talking to someone and you make me smile. Like I said it’s complicated. If we are around family or friends we have to act married and happy. That also means I can’t be on my phone texting this beautiful country girl who brightens my day no matter what. However, when it’s just her and I in the house she asks about you. I give general answers and try to keep the personal stuff at bay. Dee actually badly wants to speak with you, she’s asked for your number many times.

Me: I’m sorry what? She wants to talk to me?

Jay: Haha does that sound weird? It’s not I swear. She started to notice a difference in my behaviour when we started getting close and was curious. For a year now Dee actually has had a boyfriend herself. We talk about their relationship once in a while. We never separated on bad terms, but there was a long period where it was just weird to be around each other and having to act in love still kinda sets us on edge. Before I met you, I tried to avoid her as much as possible. Still do but we are slowly working on a friendship again.

Me: No not weird. It's what my ex husband and I try to do as well. His girlfriend happens to get in the way alot and makes it more difficult, we do try our best though, there are days when it's a cage match because she has meddled and we take it out on each other. Nothing is gonna be perfect, but if you can find a way to accept and co parent with minimum conflict, not only does that help your mental health with divorce but it benefits your kids as well.

This conversation is getting deeper than you pictured for tonight. You've noticed that has been happening more and more since he sent the photo last week.

Assuming he feels like a giant weight has been lifted from his shoulders now that he no longer has to hide who he is from you. Being able to be complete honest has a relaxing effect on ones soul in the end.

I'm glad he trusts me enough to be this honest and relaxed with me.

Well you would enjoy a romantic relationship with this man, the solid foundation you have been building through these last few months has been just as amazing if not more so.

Jay: You're pretty smart you know that. I got a million questions for you pretty lady, I can honestly say I've never met someone like you.

Me: I ain't nothing special Jay. Just a single mom who lives on a farm and trying to figure out how to live this life in my new normal.

Jay: You don't give yourself enough credit sweetheart, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.

Me: You're sweet Jay.

-- Incoming FaceTime From Jay --

Oh fuck off right now, seriously.

Reluctantly you answer the call. It's both extremely tempting to see him "in person" per say but also nerve racking as hell. Come on he is Jensen fucking Ackles, even if I have had emotional conversations with him and made him cum over and over again, this is still scarier as fuck.

The call loads and your screen is invade by a beautiful green eyed man standing in the kitchen of his trailer, eating. Smiling at you with his signature childish grin as he waves hello.

Chuckling at the man in front of you, "Hi Jay."

"Hey Darling." He grabs the phone off the counter and moves to the bed, laying down with a grunt.

"Long day I take it?"

"Lots of fight scenes today. I enjoy it, but I'm getting too old for this shit."

You can't stop the laghter that bubbles up from his comment. Jensen gives you his best bitch face, "awe that's so cute, you're trying to look mad."

"So sassy in person ain't ya sweetheart."

"You don't even know the half of it big guy. For the record you aren't old, you're lie whiskey... get betters with age."

"I go down just as smooth too," sending you a flirty wink before softly chuckling.

Fuck me, this man is something else.

"Oh look at you with those one liners. You look exhausted. It's late here, I'm guessing it's late there as well."

Rolling onto his side, "yeah it is. I had an urge to see you in and talk to you instead of texting. Seeing you right now makes losing sleep completely worth it."

"I'm glad you called, however I am saying you are going to bed. No fighting."

Smiling softly he lets out a yawn, "no fighting, good night baby girl. I'll talk withh you tomorrow."

You sign off and head inside to get ready for bed yourself. The new development of this relationship has you floating on cloud 9.

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Taglist:

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @spnaquakindgdom @nancymcl @tspmoff @lessons-of-red @supershygirl @yvonneeeee @syrma-sensei @neii3n @leigh70 @idontwannabehere78 @foxyjwls007 @kimxwinchester @multiversefanfics @mostlymarvelgirl @chilledbabydoll @senjoritanana @deansimpalababy @impala67rollingthroughtown @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @barnes70stark @maggiegirl17 @justwhisperingfantasies @jamerlynn

[erenjaegerwifee]

The Selection

Prologue

Paring: Neteyam x Fem!Tawakmi!Reader

Warnings: none, some flirting.

Word Count: 2.7k

Disclaimer: All my characters are aged-up! If that bothers you feel free to scroll and do not interact with my account or any of my post.

~ This is the first part to my new series! I hope you all like the idea and enjoy reading! Suggestion are welcome I'd love to hear your ideas. in this series I should make you aware I will be including some human things, there will be some pretending when it comes to those things. the technology for instance will be something that is heavily in the series. human songs is also something that will be mentioned throughout, which will include some songs and lyrics (but Y/n is gonna write them so it wouldn't be considered human in this series)

Series M.List | Main M.List

“Neteyam the war is over, it is high time you choose a wife” Neytiri, his mother said to him while they were all having dinner. “Yea son, I know that for a long time it is all we thought about but you should get out there, get to know some people” his father, Jake pipped up. 

“Being married is great I promise, I didn’t think I'd like it this much man seriously” his brother Lo’ak said as he hugged his wife Korra against his side making her giggle. Neteyam smiles at his brother and new sister, they had such a strong relationship ever since they were young, the type of friends you knew one day they would mate and be as one. Neteyam has never had anyone like that, he has had friends and girls he was interested in but this war changed people, took people. He just isn’t really attracted to anyone in his clan right now.  

“I hear you; I know a bond is important to form, but honestly this war has taken so much out of all of us, there isn’t much people left in the clan and no one I can say I really feel for.” Neteyam sighed as he told his family as he passes his hand over the scar, he now has on his chest from getting shot all those years ago. His parents look at him sympathetically, they know what it feels like to be in love, they only want their children to feel the same one day, to feel that happiness. 

“Ok, I attended a meeting with the clan leaders from across the forest, they too have suffered much lose from this war and one of them pitched an idea I thought was interesting, I did not agree beforehand because I wasn’t sure you would agree” Jake sighed and glanced at his wife before continuing, “In the Kekunun clan, they have this tradition where men try through a series of competitions and challenges to win over the woman of their choosing, they pitched that if you were open too it, you can hold one of your own here, and which ever woman you choose will be your mate for life and join their clan with ours, so don’t suffer such a lose alone. You will rule both clans side by side.”  

His family looked at him while he contemplated his options, it was not the worse idea, maybe someone from the other clans might catch his attention. Maybe he might fall in love with someone, “How will we choose which girls will enter?” Neteyam asked his father.  

“Well, you can let the clans decide which girl they think is best fit or you can send someone you know to survey the crowds and choose a girl they think you’ll like, the point of this is to find you a match you are happy with, making the clan bigger is just a bonus” his father said. “We only want you to be happy son” his mother spoke up.  

Neteyam sighed again, “Ok, we will do it, but I want someone to survey the clans” his family waited for him to say who they will send and Neteyam didn’t have to give it much thought, at the end of the day only his family stood with him in the hard times, only his family held his hand throughout all of the injuries and loses, “Lo’ak, I trust his judgement, he’ll find me the right girls.”  

Lo’ak smiled at his brother, over the years they had depended on each other a lot, they grew much closer than their teenage years, they are not only brothers but good friends, they have kept each other safe countless times now, there really is no one Neteyam has more trust in to think of his best interest.  

Lo’ak has been to three clans so far with his wife, all three times he had chosen a woman he thinks his brother might like. He has been to the Tanrangi Clan by the eastern sea, the Olangi Clan that reside in the forest plains of Pandora and the Kekunun Clan that live in the Mountains. Visiting them has been a real experience for Lo’ak he was able to spend time with the people and get to know their customs before he chose a woman.  

It was easier than expected the women he chose just stood out to him, and his wife was much help in decided as well because Lo’ak came to realize, all the other forest clans have heirs that are women. Not a man besides their father was in the family, someone them were only children but some had sisters, none so far had brothers.  

Lo’ak must make one more stop, the furthest clan in the forest, a good three days travel away from the omatikaya clan, it was the Tawkami clan. Rumor has it you reside in one of the forest clans but Lo’ak has yet to see you. He just knows you would be perfect for his brother, but he can’t help but feel a bit selfish about wanting to choose you, yes, he has a wife and he loves her more than anything, he would never do anything to hurt her. But ever since Lo’ak heard the sound of your voice in his teens he’s been crushing hard, almost like a fantasy he knows he has no shot, he knows he doesn’t want it, he just likes you. He had this idea in his head about what you might be like and he always wondered what it would be like to meet you. 

Now Lo’ak is no stalker, he knows what you look like simply from pictures, but what na’vi on Pandora doesn’t know you? You are famous on Pandora, your voice people say was a gift from the great mother herself, they say your body was hand shaped by Eywa from how incredibly beautiful you are. They way your waves fall so lovely down your back, the silky curls bounce with every movement you make.  

Lo’ak has only seen videos and heard recordings but he has never gotten the chance to meet you. Why were you so out of reach to the public, he wasn’t even sure what clan you are from. He definitely thinks you are perfect though, but maybe his opinion on your is biased. Korra understands Lo’ak’s feelings towards you, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t also admire you, the way you moved when you danced in the videos she saw, it was so graceful and full of meaning.  

They talked about it the entire trip, every clan they would look for you and every clan they would be disappointed they didn’t find you; this is their last chance. They fly over the entrance of the Tawkami clan attracting the people below. This clan was beautiful, big space, Lo’ak knows they fought besides them in battle but they didn’t not return in the numbers they gave out. They are highly skilled and in tune with their land. 

Lo’ak jumped off his ikran and walked over to Korra to help her off her ikran. The pair walked hand in hand up to the crowd and greeted all of them. Everyone knows they are omatikaya, they know Lo’ak and who his father way, they also are very much aware of his skills as a warrior and is well respected at the clan.  

The clan’s Olo’eyktan with his three sons came forward, Lo’ak and Korra respectfully greeted them and they returned the gesture. “Lo’ak, son of Toruk Makto, what brings you so far from your clan?” Olo’eyktan spoke up. Tsahìk has joined them shortly after greeting them respectfully. “This is my wife, Korra. We are here to inform the clan that the Omatikaya have decided to hold a competition for the hand of Toruk Makto’s eldest, my brother Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan, the winner will join clans with ours and we will live as one. I was sent to choose the woman and request her presence to the clan to start the games in one weeks time”  

“Walk with me son” the Olo’eyktan invited Lo’ak, Korra walked alongside them as they spoke, “You are meant to choose clan leading children, right?” the man asked. Lo’ak nodded his head waiting for the man to continue speaking, “I am afraid I only have the one daughter; she is off age and if she is willing to participate in this competition you will have my blessing,”  

The Tsahik of the clan speed up her pace to stand in front of the three, “She has a beautiful connection to Eywa son, she must be taken care off if we allow her to come to your clan. How long will she be staying?” Korra spoke up before Lo’ak did, “the selection will take six months, between those six months some of the women who Neteyam is not interested in will be sent home.”  

Tsahik made eye contact with her husband speaking without words, almost as if Lo’ak read their mind, “Her place at the clan is welcome, she will be treated as one of our own, but we cannot guarantee she will be the one my brother chooses. If she is not, we will ensure her safe passage back. My brother is not only looking for a capable woman, he is looking for a loving wife, I am only here to see which one might be best suited, in the end it will be up to him.” Lo’ak’s eyes dart between them both before letting out a nervous sigh.  

It was never easy to explain to the clan leaders their children may not be Neteyam’s wife but they accepted anyways, many have respect for his brother, many women want to mate him, but not everyone has the same advantage in the games. “Let us introduce you and you can ask her yourself.” 

You sat on in a small clearing humming tunes of songs and sewing on some beads you gathered earlier in the day. You felt at peace in the forest, it was always something you loved to enjoy by yourself, the wind blew softly through your curls that fell over your eyes slights and down to the middle of your back. It was sort of uncommon for Na’vi women to have nags but you always thought they suited your face well, especially with your full curls, “Y/n!” you heard your mother shout. 

You heard turned to the voice before you stood up and ran in the direction of your mother. “Sa’nok? What is it?” you pull a big leaf down to walk in front of it being met with bother your parents, and a man and woman you did not recognize.  

The spark in their eyes when they saw you was something you would never get tired of, they are your fans, your mother brought fans to meet you? Thats a first. You brought your hand up to your forehead to greet them respectfully smiling sweetly, “I see you, y/n” they both said in sync copying your motion making you smile.  

You parents excused themselves mumbling to each other about how they hoped you said yes. You look at them confused before turning to the couple, “May I know your names?” you said sweetly. “I am Lo’ak, son of Toruk Makto, this is my mate, Korra” you smile at them both before silence took over as if they did not know what else to say. “It is nice to meet you both, may I ask why you journeyed so far from your clan?” your eyes dart between them.  

“We have come to choose women from the forest clans for my brother to mate, it is a competition to see who is best suited for him, in return the winning woman will join her clan with the Omatikayan and we will live as one. I know this is short notice but the games start in one week, we have chosen you if you will accept?” Lo’ak said, his grip on his wife’s hand was a bit hard but he was just so nervous on whether you would say yes. You are famous across the moon, everyone and their mother knows about your blessed voice, he just knew he would be doing right by his brother if you accepted. 

“Wow, this is quite a decision, how long will I be staying at your clan?” you bit your lip swinging from side to side as you contemplate, no one has ever asked you to compete for someone else’s hand, people compete for yours. “Six months, if it doesn’t work out between you two and he decides to go in a different direction, though I can’t imagine why, we will grant you safe passage home.” you giggle at him sly comment.  

And you nod your head, “the Omatikaya are 3 days travel away from here as you know, I will not be able to visit my family, it is a big decision to make. I do not want to shut you down but I have no idea what your brother looks like” you tilt your head to the side slightly. Lo’ak sighs assuming you are about to shut him down. “Tell you what, how about you stay for dinner and leave first thing in the morning, I shall give you my answer then” you smile at them.  

You try to ignore the way they both look at each other in a celebratory way and you lead them back to the clan while they ask you questions about how you write your songs and your music, if it is true, you are also a good dancer. Their excitement to talk to you makes you smile, you had secretly always loved the attention that came with being famous, the way people always treated you nicely and how they travel the moon looking for you just to hear you sing.  

After dinner you get tucked away thinking about the situation, your parents have been hounding you about getting a mate for the longest, it is a bit difficult though. You always loved the gifts Eywa blessed you will but men do not want you for a wife, they want you for a lay. You are one of the most beautiful women on the moon according to some, you are something people want to say they have had, like an object. Mates should not treat you like that so you never committed to being anyone’s wife. Maybe Lo’ak’s brother will be different, maybe he will love you for you and not what you have. You knew you had your iPad and you can call your mother whenever you needed but you’ve never really been away from your family before. What if this doesn’t work out, what if you fall in love with him and he doesn’t love you back. No relationship is formed without risk, right? 

The next morning breakfast was served to your guests they made themselves ready to take off to their home clan. They must be relieved to be going home now, they definitely didn’t forget you told them you would have an answer now.  

“So, what’s it gonna be princess? Have you decided whether or not my brother is worth your time?” Lo’ak asked. 

“Well, I’m not sure about that I don’t know him how can I know if he is worth my time?” you giggle at him. “But what is reward without risk? I will be there.” Lo’ak and Korra both smiled at your answer and gave you a hug goodbye. Bidding them safe travels, you watched them fly away.  

“Are you sure about this sis?” your brother Kian asked you, he was your first younger brother, second born in your family. “I am, what is the worst that can happen? I come back here?” you snort making him laugh. “No, I know, I just do not want you to get hurt by this.” you smile at him then glance down to your feet, “We cannot control the things that happen baby brother, we can only control how we react to them.” 

You yanked on his tail and ran away leaving him to chase you in circles around your parents, you will miss them dearly.  

~ I hope you all like it so far! I’m not sure how much chapters I’m writing but as I update I’ll put them here so look it or comment to be tagged!

~ Reblogs, Comments and Likes are always appreciated

Taglist

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[winchesterwild78]

Unspoken Words pt 8

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, other characters

Warnings: Angst, Accusation of Cheating, Childbirth, SMUT!, fluff

A/N: Another collab story with @cheekygirl2309. This one is about a single mother with a nonverbal autistic daughter who loves Supernatural. The reader is going to a Supernatural Convention with her daughter and things unfold from there. The daughter character is near and dear to my heart. I have someone very close to me who is nonverbal, but he’s such an amazing kid. 

*Last chapter. Features a time jump or two. * This chapter got a bit long, sorry not sorry.

This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. Jensen is single in this story. 

All work is my own and @cheekygirl2309, don’t take it or use it as your own. Reblogs and likes are appreciated. 

Minors DNI 18+

*8th Month of Pregnancy*

Standing at the mirror I placed my hand on my belly. I couldn’t believe I was just over 8 months pregnant. 

Lily was getting more excited about the babies. She was talking more and was helping me with the nursery. 

Jensen had been working and gone filming a lot. He’d missed a few appointments but I understood. At the last ultrasound appointment they were going to tell me the genders but I asked them to wait. 

My heart ached for Jensen to come home. I knew his job was important and I was so proud of him. I just missed him. 

It was late at night and Lily was in bed. I had changed and glanced at myself in the mirror again. 

I could feel the little kicks and flutters in my stomach, it made me smile. A pang of sadness filled my heart. 

Chalking it up to the hormones I tried to push the thoughts away. I know Jensen loves me, Lily and our children, but I couldn’t help but feel alone and unwanted. 

When Jensen would get home he’d be exhausted and focused on other things. He hadn’t touched me in about a month. My heart ached for his touch. I didn’t say anything to him because I didn’t want to add more stress to him. 

Sarah encouraged me to talk to him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. 

I took out my phone and sent him a text. 

Me: Hey baby. Just wanted to tell you I miss you and can’t wait until you’re home. You’re still coming home in a few days, right? 

I watched the bubbles appear and disappear several times before it stopped. No reply came in. My message was shown read. 

Maybe he’s on set and glanced at his phone. He’ll message me when he can. 

I sat on the couch and turned on the television for some background noise and honestly to try to pull me out of my head. 

I dozed off around 1am and didn’t hear my phone go off. I slept for a few hours, waking up around 5:30am I glanced at my phone and saw a message notification from Jensen. 

A smile crept across my face, but quickly faded when I read the text. 

Jensen: Thank you for tonight. I needed to blow off some steam. You looked beautiful. 

I swallowed hard and my heart pounded in my chest. I felt sick. Who was this message meant for?! Who did he go out with? 

I opened Instagram and saw a ton of new pictures Jensen was tagged in. He was out at some bar with the cast of his latest project and there was a female co-worker hanging on him. He had a huge smile on his face. She was gorgeous. Young, skinny, and very beautiful. The total opposite of me. The kind of woman Jensen previously had on his arm. 

My heart broke. What was I going to do? How can I raise three children on my own? I’ve been a fucking fool to think he would stay with me. I sobbed. 

Not knowing what to do I followed the pictures back to the original post and it was from her account. 

The original post talked about how lucky she felt to be welcomed to this crew and how much she admired Jensen and his kindness on and off the set. The next part made me want to vomit “Thanks Jens for an incredible night. You definitely know how to make a girl feel special. 🫶🏻❤️” 

I took a screenshot and sent it to Sarah. She said she’d be right over. 

I sobbed harder. My heart felt like it was breaking in my chest. 

Sarah showed up about 15 minutes later and wrapped me in her arms. “Shh, sweetie. I’m sure there’s an explanation for this. Jensen loves you so much. He’s loyal to you.” 

Sarah held me as I cried. “Y/N, think about the babies. You’ve got to calm down. This isn’t good for them.” 

“No, what’s not good for them is their father cheating on their mother with a fucking child!” Sarah had sent Steve a text and told him what happened before she came over. He said he’d call Jensen and get to the bottom of it. 

Sarah’s phone went off and it was a text from Steve. 

Steve: No answer yet. I’ll keep trying. How’s she doing?

Sarah: She’s devastated. I’m really worried about her and the babies. God I hope he didn’t cheat on her. 

Steve: I’ve known Jensen for decades, he’s really not that kind of guy. I promise. 

Sarah: I hope he’s not. 

“Y/N, come on sweetie take a deep breath.” 

I took a breath in and let it out. Then I felt a sharp pain shoot through me. Sarah made me lay down and brought me some water. “You have to relax honey. This isn’t good for the babies.” 

I nodded and tried to relax. My phone went off with a message notification. Sarah wouldn’t let me check it. 

Jensen: Hey baby. Yeah. I’ll be home in a few days as long as filming runs smoothly. I love you and miss you too. 

Sarah read the message and was pissed. He completely ignored the message he sent in the middle of the night. So Sarah sent a reply back. 

Me: Jensen, this is Sarah. You might want to make sure you know who you’re texting before you send it. Y/N saw the text you meant to send some other woman and I’m here picking up the pieces. I swear to god if you’re cheating on her I’m going to cut off your balls! “You had a great time and you needed to blow off some steam and she was beautiful?!” Who the fuck sends another woman a message like that?

Jensen read the message from Sarah and scrolled up. He ran his fingers through his hair “Fuck! I’m so fucking stupid!” 

I was laying on the couch and had Sarah help me up so I could use the bathroom. I sat down and then I saw blood. My heart started racing. When I stood up my water broke. 

“Sarah, come quick!” Sarah ran to my side, seeing the blood and where my water broke she took my hand. “Okay, this is fine. Let me call Steve and see if he can come over for Lily so I can take you to the hospital. 

“Sarah, I need Jensen. He should be here. Please call him.” 

She nodded, helped me change and called Jensen. 

Jensen saw my name pop up on his phone. He took a steady breath and answered it. “Hey baby. I know we need to talk.” 

“Jensen, this is Sarah. You need to get home. Y/N’s in labor. You caused her to go into labor. Please leave your girlfriend there and get to the hospital.” Sarah’s voice dripped with anger and venom. 

“Sarah, I don’t have, you know what, forget it. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Please tell her I’m on my way and I love her.” 

“Sure you do.” Then Sarah hung up. 

I looked at Sarah, “He said he’s on his way and he loves you.” She scoffed. 

“Sarah, please.” She sighed, “I’m sorry. It just pisses me off. You’re carrying his children and you’ve given up everything to be with him and this is how he repays you?” 

“Sarah, please stop. He has a right to explain.” Another pain shot through my body. Steve had arrived and Sarah and I were on our way to the hospital. 

I sent Jensen a text. 

Me: Jens I’m so scared. Please get home safe and quickly. 

Jensen: I’m boarding a flight now. I’m so sorry baby. I swear I didn’t cheat on you. I love you and our family. 

Me: I hope not. I love you too. I don’t want to have these babies without you. 

Jensen: I’m trying to get there as fast as I can. 

Me: I know. We do have a lot to talk about, but first we need to focus on these babies. 

I put my phone down as a contraction hit. Sarah pulled up to the Emergency Department and ran inside. She came back out with a nurse and wheelchair. 

Helping me out of the car they wheeled me in. 

I was immediately taken to labor and delivery and hooked up to the monitor. 

My contractions were close, but not unbearable. I kept looking at the door hoping Jensen would walk in at any moment. 

Sarah stood by my bed and held my hand during the contractions. 

The doctor came in and checked me and said the babies seemed okay for now but we would keep monitoring them for any signs of distress. If there was any distress I’d have to have a c-section. I nodded in understanding. 

A few hours later the contractions were closer and I was getting more worried Jensen wouldn’t make it. 

The doctor came in and checked me, “Okay, it looks like you’re ready to have these babies. Are you ready?” 

Tears started to fall, “No, it’s too early and Jensen isn’t here. Sarah, he should be here.” 

She held my hand, “I know sweetie. He’s on his way. I’m right here.” 

The doctor assured me once the babies were born they would be assessed quickly for any complications. 

It was time to push and the doctor and nurses got me ready. Jensen still wasn’t there and my heart broke more. 

“Sarah, does he really love me?” She wiped the tears away, “Oh Y/N I’m sure he does. He will be here soon.” 

As if on cue Jensen walked in the door. Bag in hand and sunglasses and hat on top of his head. 

He dropped his stuff and ran to my side, “Hey baby. I’m here.” He took my hand and kissed the top of my head. He looked at Sarah and then at the doctor. “How’s she doing? How’s the babies?” 

The doctor explained to Jensen it was early, but the babies would be assessed and taken to the NICU if necessary. 

Jensen nodded and kissed my head again. “I’m so sorry baby. We’ve got this. Come on baby, let’s meet our babies.” 

I nodded and took his hand in mine. 

About thirty minutes later the first baby was delivered. A healthy baby boy. The nurse took him to be assessed while I rested between deliveries. 

Jensen wiped my forehead and fed me ice chips. He took a picture of the baby for me. “Jens, he’s beautiful. Thank you.” He kissed my lips, “God I love you so much, sweetheart. What do you say we deliver our next baby?” 

The second baby moved into position and I was ready to deliver. I was exhausted but ready to meet my other baby. A few minutes of pushing, a tiny cry filled the room. I looked over and saw little legs and feet kicking wildly. I chuckled. Jensen walked over and took a picture. 

“Is the baby okay?” I asked Jensen. He smiled, “She’s perfect. Real fighter like her mama.” 

Tears filled my eyes, “We have a boy and a girl?” He kissed me, “Yeah we do baby. They are perfect.” 

Sarah gave me a hug and kissed my head, “You did great sweetie. I’m gonna call Steve and let him know.” I nodded and thanked her. 

As she walked out of the room Jensen followed her. 

“Hey, Sarah. Wait up please.” Sarah turned and looked at Jensen. He could tell she was pissed. 

“What Jensen?” “I just wanted to tell you thank you for taking care of her and making sure our babies were safe.” 

She stepped closer to him and poked his chest, “You don’t have to thank me. She’s like a sister to me. She wouldn’t have gone into labor if it wasn’t for your cheating ass.” 

“Sarah, I’m not cheating on her. I never have and never would. I love her. It’s not an excuse but I got drunk. I went out with the cast and we got drunk. The text was meant for someone else, but it’s not what you think. She was arguing with her boyfriend and some woman at the bar told her she looked like a cheap hooker, then kissed her boyfriend. She was devastated. I’ve known her for years, she’s like a sister to me. I can call her right now to clear all this up. Look, I know I fucked up and if there is anything wrong with my children I know it’s my fault, but I need you to believe me. I love Y/N and I have since the moment I met her.” 

Sarah stood shocked. She saw the pain in Jensen’s eyes and she couldn’t stop feeling he was telling her the truth. 

Sarah took a deep breath and touched his arm, “Jensen, go to her side. Tell her everything you told me. She loves you and I know you love her. You might have to call that friend, but if you truly mean it and love Y/N then you fight for her.” 

He nodded and they hugged. Sarah walked away to call Steve and Jensen returned to my side. 

I was being transferred to a private room. Jensen came in the room with his bag and set it in a chair. I was laying in the bed and looked over at him. 

He smiled softly “Hey baby. How are you feeling?” “I’m okay. Sore, but okay. I’m glad you made it. Have you heard anything about the babies?” 

He shook his head no, “No, but I can go find out if you want me to.” 

I reached out my hand, “No, I think we should talk first.” He looked down solemnly, “Yeah. I think so too.” 

Silence filled the room. Neither of us knew what to say or how to start the conversation. The weight of it all hung heavy in the air. 

Jensen sat beside me and took a deep breath, “Baby I swear I have never nor would I ever cheat on you. The text was meant for my friend, Leah, but it’s not what you think. We all went out last night to celebrate wrap. Leah was there with her boyfriend and they started fighting. Some woman at the bar said she looked like a hooker and then kissed Leah’s boyfriend. She was devastated. I’ve known her for years, she’s like a sister to me. I just wanted to let her know she looked beautiful. I swear I didn’t mean it any other way. I love you and I’d never do anything to jeopardize what we have. I know I screwed up and you going into labor early is my fault. If there is anything wrong with our children that’s on me.” 

Tears filled his eyes. I didn’t know what to say. 

I lifted my hand to his face and gently touched him. “Jens, it’s not your fault our babies came early. I should have trusted you and not gotten as upset as I did. I just let my brain run wild. I thought you didn’t want me anymore. You hadn’t touched me in a month and I was afraid you weren’t attracted to me anymore. I’m sorry Jensen. I should have talked to you about what was bothering me.” 

“What?! How could I not be attracted to you? Look at you. You’re beautiful and sexy as hell. Your beautiful body made and carried all three of our babies. I could never thank you enough for that. I was afraid I’d hurt you having sex with you. The last time we had sex you were in pain for a few days. I didn’t want to hurt you again. I’m so sorry baby. I should have been honest with you.” 

He leaned down, cupped my face and his lips ghosted mine. He stopped and didn’t move. 

“Is this okay?” I nodded and he crashed his lips to mine. The kiss was full of need and regret. When he pulled away we looked into each other’s eyes, “I love you, Y/N, so much.” “I love you too, Jensen.” 

About an hour later the doctor came in and gave us an update on the twins. They both passed their tests, but would be required to stay in the NICU for at least a week to get their lungs strong enough. She said we could go see them when I felt up to it. 

I looked over at Jensen and he smirked, “She’s ready now, doc.” The doctor chuckled, “Okay, we’ll be careful and call the nurse before you get up.” We nodded and called the nurse. 

She helped me up and we went to see the babies. We saw our son first. The nurse had me sit in the rocking chair and she put him on my chest. He was smaller than Lily was, but he looked good. He cooed and looked up at me. 

I gasped softly, he had the most beautiful green eyes I’d seen since looking into Jensen’s. 

The nurse smiled, “So do you two have a name picked out yet?” I looked at her and then Jensen, “Yeah his name is Michael Alan and her name is Josephine Marie.” 

The nurse smiled, “Beautiful.” She looked at Jensen and said, “While mom is holding him do you want to hold your little girl?” Jensen smiled and nodded. 

He sat in the rocking chair near her crib and the nurse handed the baby to Jensen. 

He looked down at his little girl and smiled. She looked just like Lily, but she had his green eyes. He looked over at me and smiled. “She’s beautiful. She looks like her big sister.” 

I reached my hand out and held his, “We made some beautiful babies. Didn’t we?” “Yeah we did. Thank you baby. Thank you for our beautiful little family.” 

We held the twins for a while and switched. I looked over at Jensen holding our son and I saw the pride on his face. My little girl fell asleep in my arms. I watched her sleep and she reminded me so much of Lily it made my heart full. 

We put the babies down to sleep and Jensen helped me back to the room. Sarah and Steve were bringing Lily to see me and the babies. 

Lily came in and climbed on the bed. She looked at my stomach and put her hand on it, “Babies?” “Mommy had the babies. You have a baby brother and sister.” She looked at me and then Jensen. “See babies” she said looked at Jensen. 

“Well they are in a special room because they were born early, but you can see them through the window.” Jensen said and she nodded. 

“Hey, I’ll take her. You rest” Jensen said as he leaned down and kissed my head. 

He scooped her up and started to carry her out. Steve went with them. 

When they left Sarah looked at me. “What?” I asked. “Did you two work it out?” I nodded, “Yeah. He told me what happened.” “Do you believe him?” I shook my head yes. 

“Okay, I just want to make sure you’re okay. You deserve to be loved.” 

I touched her arm, “I know, and I am. He loves me and I trust him. We even talked about why we hadn’t had sex.” 

“And? What was the reason?” 

“The last time we had sex I hurt for a few days after. He was worried he’d hurt me again so he didn’t pursue it with me.”

“Was that true? Did you get hurt?”

“Yeah. I was in some pain afterwards. It wasn’t his fault, but yeah. I understand his hesitation.” 

She hugged me, “Okay. Well I still meant what I said to him if he hurts you.” We both laughed, “I know. You’re mean that way.” 

*Time Jump 3 Months* 

“Jensen, can you grab Michael and dry him off and bring me Josie?” 

Jensen came into the bathroom and we switched off the twins for bath time. 

They were now 3 months old and growing. Jensen and I were a great team with them and Lily. 

Jensen still made time to play with Lily and she even helped feed the babies. She would help get diapers and wipes, but never changed a diaper. 

When we first brought the twins home, Lily had a hard time adjusting. She clung to Jensen for about a month. Anytime he left the house she went with him. I was worried she felt pushed to the side, but Jensen was great at helping her feel loved and cared for. 

After bath time we fed the twins and put them down for bed. Lily had her bath and we read to her and put her to bed. 

Jensen and I had some quiet time for the first time in a while. We usually had one kid awake or we were both so exhausted we fell asleep. Sometimes in our clothes. 

Tonight, however, we were both wide awake. 

He sat beside me on the couch and leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Hey beautiful, why don’t you go take a shower or bath and relax. If one of the kids wakes up I’ll take care of them. You can relax.” 

I looked over at him. I wanted him, I needed him. It had been months. Between the pregnancy and birth we hadn’t had sex and I really wanted to feel him again. 

I straddled his hips and leaned down kissing his lips. His hands grabbed my hips and pulled me close. “Jens, take me to our room.” 

He leaned back and looked in my eyes, “Are you sure?” 

I kissed him. Pouring all my love, need and desire into it. “Yes”. 

He lifted me up and carried me to our room. I tried to protest, “Jensen, put me down. I weigh too much.” 

“No you don’t, you’re perfect.” 

He carried me to our room, closed the door with his foot and laid me on the bed. 

He leaned down, his strong arms on either side of me. He smiled and kissed my lips softly. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” I smiled, “Yeah, I’ve been told that a few times.” 

Jensen chuckled and kissed me again. His hand slid down my body and to the hem of my shirt. 

I bit my lower lip and my breath hitched. I could feel my desire course through my body. Jensen’s hand slipped under my shirt and to my breasts. He gently cupped them and I arched my back, moaning his name. 

He pulled my shirt over my head. Jensen began licking and sucking each nipple. My fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to me. 

He smirked against my skin as his hot breath caused goosebumps to erupt all over me. 

Jensen slid his hands down to my waistband and past my panties. He felt how soaked I was and without warning slid his fingers past my folds and into my waiting pussy. 

I gasped loudly as he hooked his fingers up. His thumb rubbing my sensitive clit. “Oh God, right there, Jensen. Fuck!” 

He stopped and I whined. “Jens, why did you stop?” He leaned up and pulled my pants and panties down in one pull, “Had to get better access.” He chuckled. 

Jensen continued and pushed me closer to my release. I felt heat and arousal fill my body. It had been so long since we touched each other I wanted it to last. My body was responding to Jensen. 

The familiar coil tightened in my stomach. “Jens, I’m close.” He leaned forward, lips ghosting my ear, “I know baby. Let go for me. Cum on my fingers. Let me feel you.” 

The coil snapped and I was cumming hard. My back arched off the bed and I soaked Jensen’s hand. My legs trembled as my body convulsed through my orgasm. 

By the time I was done I was panting and could feel my arousal running down my ass. Jensen stood up and I saw his rock hard cock through his sweatpants. 

I licked my lips and pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. My breath hitched as he removed his clothes. He smirked, “See something you like, sweetheart?” 

I nodded and smiled, “Yes, I do.” Jensen climbed back on the bed and used his legs to push my legs apart. 

I laid looking up at him and saw the love in his eyes. My heart fluttered in my chest. 

Jensen pumped his length a  few times and looked down at me. I nodded and Jensen’s pink head slid past my lips and slowly sunk inside me. 

I gasped and he moaned as he pushed in. Jensen stilled himself as he bottomed out. 

“Fuck! I forgot how tight you were. Damn baby, even after three babies you fit perfectly around me.” He kissed my lips as he started to move his hips. 

Jensen moved his hips slowly, pulling his length in and out of me slowly. His hands and lips trailing over my body. Our moans and pants filled the air. 

I placed my hands on his biceps as his hips snapped into mine. 

“Baby, I want you on top. I want to see your beautiful body.” 

Jensen pulled out and laid on his back, I climbed on top of him and used one hand to steady myself while I used the other to guide him in me. 

I sank down on his hard cock with a whimper and pulled a deep moan from his lips. 

His hands gripped my hips as I rocked back and forth. Jensen snapped his hips up and pushed his cock deeper inside me. I grabbed the headboard and I continued rocking my hips faster. 

“Mmm, yes baby. Just like that. God, you feel so good. Fucking me so good.” I moved faster as I felt my second release building. 

Jensen’s hips moved faster moving up as I moved down. Our bodies were working together, chasing our release. 

Jensen grabbed my body and flipped me on my back, his hips slamming into me faster. My legs resting on his shoulders as my hands found his chest. I was close again. My fingers slipped between us and I started rubbing my clit, chasing my second release. 

My release hit hard and I moaned his name like a prayer. My walls clenched around his length and pulled his orgasm out too. He came with a grunt and his release coated my walls. Filling me with his seed. 

He leaned down and kissed my lips as he softened inside me. “I love you, Jensen.” “I love you too, Y/N. This was perfect.” I smiled and nodded. 

Jensen pulled out and kissed my lips. He got up, went to the bathroom, grabbed a washcloth and came back to the bed to clean us both up. 

Tossing the washcloth to the side he crawled back in bed with me. Offering me his arm, I curled up to his side and laid my head on his chest. 

My fingers drawing circles on his chest. “Jensen, thank you for tonight. It’s been too long and it was amazing.” He tilted my head up and placed a soft kiss on my lips, “Yeah it was. Thank you for tonight. I didn’t hurt you did I?” “No, baby. You were perfect.” 

The two of us drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. Finally reconnecting and falling more in love. 

*Time Jump 3 months* 

The twins were 6 months old and my birthday was in a few days. Sarah had planned a spa day for us and I was excited. Jensen was staying with the kids, and Steve was coming over too. 

Jensen and Steve were cooking dinner and my instruction from Jensen was to relax. 

Sarah came and got me and we headed to the spa. We got facials, full body wraps, manicures and pedicures. By the time we got back to the house it was close to dinner time. 

Walking in the house it smelled amazing. Jensen was standing at the stove when I walked into the kitchen. 

“Hey sweetheart, how was the spa?” I walked up to him and kissed him, “It was amazing, thank you. This smells amazing by the way.” “It’ll be ready soon. You go sit and relax. The twins are napping and Lily is playing with Steve. 

I nodded and walked into the living room where I found Sarah and Steve whispering. “What are you two talking about?” “Uh, nothing.” Sarah giggled. “Okay, whatever. Well just don’t have sex where the kids can see it.” Sarah turned red. 

A few minutes later Jensen was telling us dinner was ready. We all sat down at the table and ate. Jensen brought out a small birthday cake, candles and all. 

They sang Happy Birthday and Jensen told me to make a wish. I smiled, “But I have everything I could ever want right here.” I kissed him and then blew out the candles. 

We enjoyed some cake and ice cream. Later after Sarah and Steve left and the kids were in bed, Jensen and I went to sit on the back porch. 

We sat on the swing under a blanket and listened to the crickets and looked up at the stars. 

“So, are you sure there’s nothing you would wish for?” Jensen asked with a smile. “Jensen, I have you, our three babies and this beautiful life. I have everything I could ever need.” 

He smiled and nodded. “I have everything I could ever need too, well almost everything.” I looked at him confused, “What else could you need?” 

Jensen stood and dropped to his knee, “I’ve loved you since the minute I saw you at that convention. You and Lily came into my life when I least expected it. You’ve given me so much, a home filled with love, three beautiful children, and a companion for life. It would be my absolute honor if you would agree to become my wife. I love you, Y/N, and I can’t think of anything else I want more than that. Will you marry me?”

I gasped softly as he opened the ring box. I threw my arms around him and kissed him, “Yes! Yes I’ll marry you!” He kissed me and slipped the ring on my finger, “Perfect fit.” I looked at it and nodded. 

About a month after the engagement Lily started to retreat into herself again. I began to get worried about her. I wasn’t sure if it was because the twins were getting older and required more attention or if it was the engagement. 

I talked to Jensen to see if he could help with her, he went to her room to talk to her. When he came back I saw tears in his eyes. 

“Jens, is she okay?” He shook his head no. “She thinks she’s not family because she doesn’t have the same last name.” 

I sighed, “Oh no. Why didn’t I see it? I’m going to be an Ackles, and the babies are. She’ll be the only one who isn’t.” 

Jensen took my hand in his, “Hey, this isn’t on you. It’s natural for kids to feel this way. I did find this in her room, that’s how I knew what was bothering her.” 

He handed me a picture she had drawn, it was all of us and she wrote “Ackles” on the top. “Jens, is she asking what I think she is?” “I think so. So what do you say? How would you feel if I adopted her, made it official?”

“You’d adopt her?” “Of course I would. I love her like my own. I’d love nothing more than to adopt her. She’s already my daughter, let’s make it official.” 

I smiled and nodded, “Let’s go tell her.” 

We walked into Lily’s room. She was playing on the floor and Jensen picked her up and sat her between us on the bed. 

“Lily honey, we wanted to talk to you.” She looked at me and then back at Jensen. “We were talking and wanted to ask you how you would feel if daddy adopted you. You would be an Ackles for real. What do you think?”

She looked up at Jensen and then back at me and squealed. 

She leaped in Jensen’s lap and threw her arms around his neck, “Daddy, my daddy.” He chuckled, “Yes, Lily girl. I’m your daddy forever.” He looked over at me, “I think that’s a yes.” I nodded, “I think so too.” 

Lily climbed out of Jensen’s lap and ran to her closet. She pulled out her suitcase and Jensen and I looked at each other confused. Lily opened it and dumped the bag out. We saw some clothes, her stuffies and pictures of her with the twins and the family picture we had taken. 

“Lily honey, what’s all this?” Jensen bent down to help her pick up the stuff. “Lily, no go now.” I was confused then it hit me, She wanted to leave. I sat on the floor beside her and pulled her in my lap, “Lily baby, you will always be our baby girl. It doesn’t matter what your last name is or how many babies I have. You will always be my first baby and we will always love you so much.”

She put her arms around my neck and held me tight. “Love you mama.” “I love you too, Lily girl. So much.” Jensen pulled both of us in his arms, “And I love my girls so much.” 

Sitting on the floor with Jensen and Lily I reflected on the past few months of my life. From taking a chance and going to a convention with Lily, meeting the love of my life and having his children, to being engaged to him and he accepting my sweet girl, I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be, and I couldn’t ask for more.

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[dreaisgrayte]

I JUST BINGE READ ALL OF YOUR WORKS. YOU HAVE ME SCREAMING AND CRYING. The amount of detail that you put into them is MWAH the freakin chefs kiss 😘 you have been promoted to my #1, please never stop what you're doing ❤️❤️❤️

on another note, would you mind if I requested a scenario with Gojo? Maybe something about fem!y/n being from a high ranking rival clan, who the Gojo clan has despised for their entire existence. Maybe y/n has always had a crush on satoru ever since they first saw each other as kids, but since they were raised to hate each other it never went any further than a small lil crush. but now they're adults and both powerful sorcerers, her feelings kind of just pop back up out of nowhere and satoru finds it amusing how even after all this time and the things that their clans told them about each other that she would still have her little puppy crush on him. Maybe it could be like a she fell first and he fell harder scenario? i'm a slut for those oh my gosh

thank you so much!!!!

That's so so so sweet of you! Honestly, got me giggling and kicking my feet. Careful, I will propose, istg. This... turned into a monster while writing it. I came up with a silly little plan and a silly little idea to incorporate into your request and then this monstrosity was born. If I wasn't told to stop... I might've never stopped writing on this. I L O V E D this idea. Friends to lovers/1 fell first then the other fell harder I EAT UP EVERY TIME. So, here's what my whore brain wrote <3 love you and I hope you enjoy!

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, Gojo harasses the women he's actually into (he forgets how to flirt so just ends up bullying them), teasing, flirting, kissing, cowgirl, missionary, raw sex, a lot of touching, feelings...so many feelings

word count: 6.1k

The Crave | Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

“Are you sure they’ll be there? I don’t want their son to look at our precious daughter.” Your mother holds you closely to her legs, clicking her tongue in annoyance when the maid nods her head. “Unbelievable. You hear that? Do they think they can parade that freak of nature around Japan? Well, they’ll have to see our daughter as well. She’s got the normal amount of eyes and isn’t staring at everyone with those ugly blue ones.” Her tone is harsh and for a six-year-old you, it’s hard to understand why she’s so angry. You also doubted that the young boy had six eyes.

Your father walks into the room, straightening his tie with a stern look on his features. “As long as they keep him away from her, everything will be fine.”

But as you were brought into the party, still close to your mother – you saw nothing but a boy with snow white hair and brilliant blue eyes. Sure the way he glared at you was slightly off-putting, but he was just a boy. He was alone in the room, but everyone seemed to be talking about him. Even your mother shamed him behind a gloved hand. 

Your heart aches. What did he do that warranted such disgust for simply being alive? The Gojo clan and your clan had been at odds since the very conception of both. They bred powerful sorcerors for fame, gain, and wealth. He was yet another product of selfish desire, born into a role and body he didn’t ask for. His life ahead would be filled with always the underline of being strong. Somehow; being uniquely gifted gave him the responsibility to be used like a tool. You knew your fate wasn’t far behind his.

Though, his eyes sparkled like he knew some deeply funny thing about the world. That – even though his destiny was surely to be used up by his clan – there were still things to be enjoyed in the world. It made your…stomach hurt. Both a swirling breeze of cool and a stifling wave of heat. Boiled and frozen, pumping whatever this feeling was straight into your tiny brain. 

That was the first time you ever saw Satoru Gojo, and you’d soon come to realize around the age of 10 that you had developed an infatuation with him. Children surrounded you, chattering about how you and Satoru were going to get married when you were older. Of course, you blushed and stayed quiet – which in hindsight wasn’t the best idea since the gaggle of children went screaming at Satoru about how you wanted to marry him. A less-than-ideal situation because those sapphire eyes tracked you down amongst the crowd and 10-year-old Satoru smirked. You were utterly done for.

Thinking back on the encounters you’d had with Satoru Gojo, you were glad your family hated him. It gave you an excuse to hide behind that fact because still – in your 20s – his face would appear in the back of your mind. You’d heard things about the miraculous powerful sorcerer he’d become from your boss at the special unit for special grade sorcerors. Your mother called you about 30 times just today to remind you Satoru wasn’t the strongest, you were. The Gojo clan was sneaky, they didn’t care about anyone else except for their gain. Your parents had raised you to be wary of anything the Gojo clan did, one misstep, and suddenly you’d be shipped off to the States. 

It was a mix inside your stomach. The Gojos were not to be trusted and you most definitely were not allowed to interact with their heir. So when your boss comes waltzing up to you with a wide smile on her face, you know that rule is about to be broken. “YN, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Her laugh comes off rushed. Your boss knew about the tensions between the rivaling clans, working with special grade sorcerors required her to do so. Then why? Why the hell did she pass over a report with that stupid fucker’s face on it? “There’s a powerful curse roaming around Shibuya that needs the attention of,” she pauses, scrunching her face in thought. 

You sigh, the annoyance in your body pooling in your joints. “Two extremely powerful sorcerors?” You offer, the fakest smile known to mankind presenting itself on your lips.

Nevertheless, she lights up and hits her fist on the flat of her palm. “Exactly! See, this is why we have you on the team!” She exclaims with a little too much vigor for your taste. 

You watch her for a moment, noticing the way her long blue hair bounces around – almost like they were cheering you on as well. “Right…” You drag out the word, glancing at the file folder in your hand. “Why can’t Gojo handle it by himself then?” Her excitement seemingly drains from her face. You take note immediately. “Boss, how powerful is this damn thing?”

༘⋆✿

Meanwhile, Satoru had the same look on his face – annoyance. He understood having two special graders go on this mission would ultimately be the best option, but you? What sort of sick play of the fates was this? You were always so, he groans running a hand down his face, perfect. Your reputation, your battle tactics, hell even your coworkers thought you were the best. That’s insane. What kind of person even has all of their coworkers think the best of them?

He tosses your folder to the side of his desk, wanting to bang his forehead on the surface of the hardwood just to make sure he is seeing things clearly. The higher-ups were always comparing him to you, making sure he never fell behind in anything. Your clan was just a bunch of prissy stuck-up snobs… but then again… so was his. 

It’s useless, he was stuck going on this mission with you because no matter how powerful he was, he would never have power over himself. He reaches for your folder again, flipping it open. Along with the neverending list of your accolades and magnificent achievements, was a picture of you paperclipped to the stack of paper. A few beats of silence pass as Satoru stares at your face. 

After a few more minutes he grunts and shuts the folder again. He focuses on pulling the black cloth back over his eyes. The curse would be a piece of cake, especially with both of you on the mission. That’s not what he was worried about per se. The tricky part was how unbelievably pretty you had gotten to be and how there was a growing ache in the pit of his stomach. Fuck, this was going to be a shitshow. Then again, he couldn’t help but wonder – with a growing smirk on his face – if you still had that puppy dog crush on him.

༘⋆✿

“Yes, right this way ma’am.” A blonde man guides you toward Satoru’s office. He’s in an interesting outfit, not the usual sorcerer apparel. His tie is black and white forming an interesting pattern. His calm blue dress shirt is tucked into a pair of beige slacks. He’s very handsome and also looks very tired. Probably from dealing with all of Satoru’s bullshit if you had to guess. 

He stops in front of a door and you almost don’t catch how his body deflates quickly with a tiny sigh before he’s back to normal. “Before I go in, please just call me YN.” Your body moves on its own, planting a hand on his rather muscular shoulder. 

He attempts a smile, but it falters almost as soon as the corners of his mouth reach their peak. “Call me Nanami, Nanami Kento.” He extends a hand and you gratefully shake it. He seems nice. Then, he opens the door and leaning up against a desk is none other than Satoru. 

Satoru is in uniform and you’ll be damned, he looks too good in it. How can someone that lanky pull off a baggy uniform? His fluffy white hair spikes out in a messy ‘I woke up looking this good’ way. Your heart – against every inch of your being, is thumping wildly in your chest. You should’ve double-checked his file to conclude he doesn’t have six ears. What if he can hear how erratic your pulse is? His azure gaze is locked in on the man beside you. “Thank you, Nanami,” Satoru smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. You hear a grunt beside you and then Nanami starts walking down the hall. You watch him leave, wishing he could’ve stayed longer. You hear a loud cough from inside the room. Furrowing your brows you turn your gaze to Satoru, who looks irritated. “I thought you came to spend time with me YN, yet here you are not even paying any attention to me.” He complains, standing up. 

You press your lips into a thin line. “We’re not here for a playdate, we have business to do.” You reply with a lash of venom in your cool tone. Satoru glances off to the side with an airy laugh and smirk. What was he laughing about? You were growing more frustrated with every second. 

“Mmm, playdates remind me of when we were children.” He’s still looking off to the side like he’s watching a memory play out that only he can see. His gaze is back to you in an instant. “You had a crush on me, remember?” He cocks his head to the side, a teasing grin taking over his stupidly handsome face. 

Your body cools with a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. Oh, so he wanted to bring up the past? You put on your best ‘fuck around a find out’ smile. “Yeah, but that was before puberty hit and I had standards.” You answer the tone of your voice higher and sweeter than before. Satoru raises his brows as an amused expression takes over his face. “Shall we get to business now?” You snap, which only makes him burst out laughing. 

Satoru is walking toward you now and the alarm bells in your head start flashing. “Hey, before that I have a question I’ve been dying to know.” He leans down, planting a hand on the wall next to your head to be level with you. You stiffen, growing uncomfortable. Not with Satoru being this close, but with how much your body seems to enjoy it. 

Your brows knit together and a frown tugs your face downward. “What?” You fume, jerking your head to emphasize the word. Satoru observes you, that feeling in his stomach clawing its way up. His gaze falls to your lips for the slightest of seconds. 

He swallows, the vexing emotion wanted to be near you, beside you, touching you, in you. How troublesome. The only way for Satoru to get rid of this feeling was to somehow annoy you to the extent you never came around him again. Granted – you didn’t anyway, but this exception had nearly driven him to the edge already. “When you were little, did you ever create an illusion of me? Did you hold his hand? Practice kissing him?” Satoru inquires, feeling full of himself. Your whole face drops. You must be in a different world because he did not just ask you that. A garbled scoff sounds from your throat as you gape at him, utterly dumbfounded. 

You try to process what the hell is going on by opening and closing your mouth, raising your hands then dropping them again, and blinking rapidly. “Oh my God,” are the first words that you say. They’re also the next few thousand words you say considering how many times you repeat the phrase. 

By this time Satoru has dropped his arm, regarding you with a rueful grin. He’s backed away a few paces and you finally point a finger at him. “You are disgusting. You mean nothing to me. You’re such an annoying,” You’re panting, anger rolling through you in cold and hot waves. “An annoying.” 

“What YN? An annoying what?” Your eyes are going to bulge out of your head. He’s smirking again! Smirking!

“An annoying fuckface!” You scream, throwing your hands out in pure frustration. You groan exasperatedly before storming out of his office. 

༘⋆✿

Had you really called him a fuckface? What did that even mean? Satoru is staring at the ceiling of his city-rise apartment, unbelievably shell-shocked from the events earlier today. He flips over on his side. It hadn’t gone exactly like he planned, although he didn’t put much planning into the whole thing. Tomorrow morning you’d both meet up at Shibuya station to track down the cursed spirit. He should probably apologize for acting like an idiot…he groans and flips back onto his back. 

Morning comes like a weight of bricks. You’re both standing awkwardly in the station. The people passing by must sense something because none of them even look your way. Satoru points to the stairs leading to the street level. “Uh, we could always patrol the rooftops…” He’s being so awkward. It was honestly a hit to his ego. Usually, the ladies ate up his tease em’ and leave em’ tactic. As he stares at you a blood-curdling scream echoes from the street above. Dust shakes off of the parts of the station as a loud explosion shakes the ground. 

You glance at Satoru and he nods his head, a knowing smile creeping up his face. Finally, some fighting to get his mind off of whatever asshole thing he’d manage to say to you next. As you both reach the street ahead you’re met with chaos. Cars are being flung by a large lizard entity, but it has eyes everywhere on its body. Satoru is about to gauge an attack but you burst out laughing next to him. His footing stutters, eyes widening as he takes in your genuine laugh. It’s… kind of majestic. You hug your stomach, doubling over in laughter as you extend your hand to point at the cursed spirit. “Looks like,” you snort out a giggle, “Looks like you have some competition for having the most eyes.” 

Gojo is immediately taken aback by your words. A woman runs screaming past you as you wipe a tear away from your eye. “Now let me show you a thing or two.” You sprint toward where rubble and wreckage cause obstacles. You make light work of climbing atop a sizeable pile of rebar and pavement. “Hey, lizard breath! Over here!” Jumping up and down, you wave your arms in the air. Did Satoru have to do anything? You seem to know what to do. 

He watches you with a small chuckle as the monstrosity turns its bulbous eyes toward you. In the blink of its mucusy eyes, your image doubles. Thousands of you spread across the street, then start attacking the main body. Satoru grins, jumping in to join. “Think you could have all the fun without me?!” He yells toward you. 

You’re surprised he could easily see which one of you was the real one. Though, you guess that’s what all those eyes were for. You were working off of one another – working with each other. If your clans could see you now. You’re both laughing and fighting like taking a walk in the park. Surprisingly Satoru can’t keep his eyes off you. He wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to protect you or simply because as you fought alongside him you proved you didn’t need his protection. When you were with him you didn’t rely on him. No, you could handle yourself, which made Satoru crave your attention. He was the strongest…but with you by his side, his strength would finally be supported rather than taken for granted. 

It doesn’t take long to deal with the cursed spirit and for once Satoru is glad you’re required to come back as a team to fill out paperwork. That way he could get a little extra time with you. He smirks to himself as you finish up in Shibuya. 

He likes the look of you in his office, sitting on the couch in the corner with a small table in front of you. A laptop, a stack of papers, and a cup of tea are all somehow set on top of the small space. Your hair is falling in front of your face as you crouch over to type away the report. He was supposed to be working too, but he’d be damned if he broke his gaze now. “You ever going to stop looking at me and actually fill out some of those files Mr. Gojo?” You hum, still concentrating on the screen in front of you. Of course, you’d figure out he was gawking, it’s not like he was hiding it. 

Satoru clears his throat and glances away. “You can call me Satoru,” He pouts. When was the last time Satoru had requested a woman call him by his given name? Out of everyone else’s mouth, it was a simple endearment, but out of yours? That was something else entirely. 

You sigh, pausing in your efforts to finish the paperwork before dawn. You roll your lips into your mouth and tap your chin. “I think I much prefer fuckface.” You say, then smile sweetly. 

Satoru nods his head, pushing out of his seat. “Yeah? You want to call me fuckface or you want to fuck my face?” He banters. Your body tenses as you watch him sit on the edge of his desk. There's a pressure building in between your thighs that you can’t ignore. Your body feels like there are phantom touches caressing all of the places you yearned for Satoru to touch. 

You huff and turn away from him. “Back to this? Where’s your dignity, your charm, your manhood?” You ask. You jerk to the side, shaking your head. “No wait- that’s not exactly what I mean to say please don’t-”

Satoru is already laughing. “My manhood? Damn, you really must be thinking up all sorts of illusions in there, but,” he crosses the room, stopping in front of your table. He pushes the laptop shut with his fingertips. “The real thing is always going to be better darlin’.”

It suddenly seems very hard to swallow, so you let out an awkward laugh before gathering up your things. “Right, sure, I have to go.” You stumble over your words, rushing for the door. If you didn’t get out of this room right now you were sure bad things would happen. By bad things, you meant letting your guard down for a second around a man who was just flirting with you for the hell of it. You were a part of a rival clan, which meant he couldn’t have you. That also meant he wanted you more than the average woman. Of that, you could be certain, but you wouldn’t be some plaything Satoru could throw to the side once he’d had his fun. 

Behind you Satoru’s face had fallen, his chest rising and falling quickly as you scurry out of his office. Good, now that the real threat had been dealt with, he had some paperwork to finish. You’d be safer away from him, not wrapped up in his clan dealings and always having to live for others. For once, Satoru wanted to be truthfully selfish – sure he would go out, drink, party, enjoy one or two ladies, but in the end he was left with himself again. Satoru couldn’t save himself and he was scared that the only one powerful enough to pull him out of this desperate cry for help…was you.

༘⋆✿

A couple of months pass by without hide or tail of Satoru. Working alongside him was honestly…freeing. You weren’t held back by the possibility of someone weaker getting hurt. You groan, turning your face to the sky above you. It was gratifying being able to let loose with your own powers. Usually that many mimics will render you immobile, but you were able to spring into action right next to them. “Ma’am, a report from the Tokyo campus,” A file is passed in front of you. As you glance through the pages you turn to glance at your boss. 

She seems busy chatting away with one of the other sorcerers. You blow out a sigh and tuck the file under your arm. “Call them back and tell them I’ll be there within the hour.” You glance down at your sweats, wincing at the fact you wore such comfortable clothes to work. “Maybe make that 2.” You mutter, a disapproving scowl taking over your face. 

You ran home to change into a pair of running shoes, black leggings, and whatever shirt was on top of your dirty laundry. Unlike someone else, you couldn’t teleport, so public transportation was your only way to reach the Tokyo campus area. Walking up the stairs takes a little more effort than you’d like to admit, but when you reach the top you’re met with a shirtless Satoru Gojo and Nanami Kento training. Your jaw practically dislocates from your mouth as you gawk. They were gliding through the air and Nanami somehow had a more excited expression on his face than before. Of course, Satoru notices you first, but that allows Nanami to get a whack in. “Hey! That was foul play.” Satoru hisses, holding his cheek. 

Nanami shrugs, bending down to pick a towel off the ground. “Should’ve put your infinity back up.” He then glances at you and smiles. Your heart warms and a cheesy smile appears on your face. “Hey YN,” He waves and for a moment you’re awestruck by how handsome he is. The Lord was kind to these men. So…so very kind. Both of them were muscular, their abdomens shaped into ridges and divots. Biceps, triceps, everything went on in rippling splendor forever. You’d thought Satoru had maintained a scrawny figure, but you were certainly proved wrong and you were so glad you were. 

 “Hi there Nanami.” You walk over to him, picking up a stray water bottle on your way. You hand it to him but he shakes his head. 

“Thank you, but that’s actually his,” he juts his thumb toward Satoru and your face falls. You toss it toward the silver-haired man and he annoyingly catches it with ease. 

He glares at you, throwing his towel over his shoulder. “Yeah, thanks YN.” He grumbles. Nanami nods toward the school building. 

“If you let me wash up I can take you to Yaga’s office.” He’s back to smiling and honestly, you might have a thing for smiles. 

You latch your hands behind your back and giggle to yourself. “That would be really sweet of you Nanami.” Satoru snorts out a laugh on the other side of Nanami. You shoot him a glare. 

“Why are you callin’ Nanami by his first name but you don me fuckface?” Satoru shoots toward you, frustration twinging all of his happiness from the earlier training session. Nanami peers between you two, and then his brows shoot up with an airy laugh. 

“Oh my God you’re the one that called him fuckface? That’s so fucking funny.” Nanami laughs toward the sky, a soft sound coming from him. 

Satoru grumbles to himself, rolling his eyes like a frustrated child. “You are coming with me.” He growls, latching onto your wrist and pulling you toward the school. 

You stumble over your footing as he yanks you down the pathway. “S-Satoru w-wait oh my God!” You yell as you finally enter the building. He tosses you into the room you know to be his office. You falter backward, catching yourself on his desk. “What’s going on, what the fuck was that?” You hiss. He stalks toward you, throwing his towel onto the couch with a little more aggression than you’d like. 

He closes the distance between you, his nostrils flaring and eye twitching. “Oh so now you call me by name? Oh well, it’s too late for that now princess. You’ve pushed me far enough.” He laughs hotly moving between your legs. He’s massive and his skin is warm, you can feel the heat radiating off of him through your pants. He towers over you in an overwhelmingly torturously attractive way. 

It was hard to understand what was happening with the ringing of your heart covering all rational thought. “What are you saying? I’m not the one that made all those stupid jokes,” You mutter, looking away from him. He hisses, grabbing onto your chin and making your gaze settle back onto him. 

He laughs dryly as you blink questioningly at him. “Yeah? You had that stupid crush on me, that’s what caused this.” He spits, but you still can’t decipher what he’s trying to get at. 

Your lips part, letting out a small exasperated breath. “Listen, I didn’t mean to crush on you again, just old habits die hard I guess,” You explain, groaning as his grip tightens on your chin. His face looks tormented like some great plague has taken over his body.  

He scoffs, tossing your face to the side. You grunt with the impact, narrowing your eyes in annoyance. “Again? Haaa,” He covers his eyes with his hand, groaning softly. “You ran away from me then ignored me YN… how does that scream ‘I have a crush on you?’” The hand that was over his eyes drags down his face. You don’t have an explanation for him because you barely had one for yourself. “You must’ve sent one of your puppets to walk around the streets by my apartment, the campus, but the one thing I can’t figure out is how you got one of them to walk around in my head. I can’t see anyone except you and I’m going crazy.” His eyes are pained and his breath is labored. You finally understand. 

“Satoru…” You whisper his name with all the softness in the world, years of loving him building up into an insurmountable emotion. He turns away from you, covering his mouth this time. 

“Fuck YN, don’t say my name like that.” He hisses and you swear you can see playboy Satoru Gojo’s ears blaze a red color. “You weren’t even trying earlier, but you made me so jealous. Nanami was flirting with you right in front of me and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it. I wanted to both be Nanami and beat the shit out of him.” He slowly lets his gaze turn to you again. “I think I’m in love with you YN,” His voice is nervous, and his eyes are flittering all over your face, searching for answers. 

In love with you? Satoru Gojo was in love with…you? After all the years of your mother telling you to stay away from that boy. You were never supposed to be in this situation, especially not with the head of the Gojo clan. But you know what they say… actually, you didn’t really care about some emotional quote that would relate to this very moment because all you wanted to do – craved to do, was kiss Satoru until the sun set behind the Tori gate. 

“Our clans aren’t going to be very happy about this new development.” You chuckle and Satoru rolls his eyes. 

“That’s not an answer YN…” Okay, so he wants words. A confirmation? What exactly did you feel? Was it love? Was it something different? You didn’t have to know now, time would solidify whatever love is. All you can do is put a name to what you’re feeling.

You smile, a blossoming feeling thumping in your chest. “Yes Satoru, I love you.” You almost don’t get the words out because Satoru slips a hand into your hair and brings your mouths together in a passionate kiss. He kisses you like he’s been a starved man all his life, like he’s never wanted to kiss someone this badly. 

Satoru is obsessed with the way you gasp between kisses and how your eyes squeeze shut. “You can open your eyes, I’m the real thing.” He chuckles and brushes his thumb against your cheek soothingly. 

You weren’t afraid Satoru was one of your illusions, but rather how real this was in the first place. When you really want something you shouldn’t the whole world kind of falls away when you get that thing. When Satoru kisses you, it’s only him and that was terrifying for someone who constantly surrounded herself with things. You peek through your lashes at him anyway. “The same thing goes for me, I’m real.” You state lamely. 

Satoru blows out a chuckle, grinning mischievously. “Mmm, I’m not so sure about that, maybe you should show me.” His eyes darken and the sweltering heat you felt before nearly doubles in size and intensity.

You put your hand over the one he has on your cheek, lowering it until his fingertips brush against the swell of your chest. His brows shoot up and before he has much time to react you move it lower to the apex of your thighs. His breathing falters as he stares, eyes swimming with lust. “Come on Gojo, show me what a rival clan can really do.” The corners of your mouth lift in an enticing smirk. 

For all the time he was irritating and downright egotistical, Satoru is a good listener now. He pushes you into the desk, groaning when your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “You sure do drive a hard bargain.” His mouth tickles against your neck, kissing a trail down to your shoulder. He pauses, taking in a breath. “Mmm, you smell so good,” He mumbles against your shirt. You flush, embarrassment running hot through your veins. Did he like the smell of your dirty shirt? If you’d known the situation you’d be in right now, you would’ve put more thought into what you were wearing. 

He brings himself back up toward your face, planting a deep kiss on your lips. A selfish moan breaks through as Satoru works his lips against yours. “God, you’re so good at that.” You breathe out. A satisfied hum rumbles from his chest. 

You take in his chest, appreciating the view. This earns a chortle from Satoru. “You know, I’m starting to think you only like me when my shirt is off.” You lean into him, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your eyes widen when you realize there’s something hard pressing into your thigh. How you didn’t feel it until now is a mystery because that thing is one of the 7 wonders of the world. Satoru grunts, pulling you up and off the ledge of his desk. “Do you feel that? I think I finally understand what the elders were talking about. All I want to do with you right now is ram my cock into you until I have you writhing under me. Then finish fucking my cum into your cervix so you can mother my children. That way, your parents will have to like me and my clan, because you’ll be a Gojo.” He’s being serious right now, setting you down on the couch. 

You bite your lip curiously. “Do you plan on wedding me Satoru Gojo?” It’s a loaded question that he didn’t have to answer. It was a sweet moment and there you had to go asking a question like that. You don’t expect Satoru to sink onto one knee, take your hand, and place loving kisses on your knucks. 

He meets your gaze, electricity burning between the both of you. “May you wrap my heart around your finger one day and bear my burdens as I will bear yours.” What was even happening? Marriage? Surely this was one big dream, because years ago when you were both kids even imagining this day seemed like a far-off occurrence. This was all so sudden, but in all honesty, when have the two of you ever conformed to conventional standards? 

You were certain of one thing, you didn’t want your first time with Satoru Gojo to be on some dusty couch in the corner of his office. “Satoru… do you think we could continue…” You glance down, running your tongue over your lips. “This elsewhere?” His eyes glimmer, his mouth quirking up in a grin. 

He stands, still holding your hand. “I just basically proposed to you and all you can think about is getting in my pants. Man, rejection stings.” He tuts, shaking his head. You roll your eyes as you both laugh, a heavyweight finally being lifted. Yeah, this felt right. 

All at once you feel nauseated and dizzy. You squeeze your eyes shut, grasping onto Satoru like he was the only thing that could hold you up. “What the fuck was that?” You gasp, blinking your eyes open to find a completely different scene than when you closed them. 

Satoru caresses your cheeks, grounding you to him. “Sorry, I promise you’ll get used to it, well… maybe not, but still I’m sorry.” 

“Where are we?” You gasp, hands still clutching his arms as you peer around the living room you appear to be in. It feels less than lived in like someone staged the whole apartment – which is what you assumed Satoru had teleported you both into.

He scratches the back of his neck while nervously chuckling. “My apartment,” His gaze falls to you, taking in how perfect you look among his things. “Do you like it?” He asks with such a look in his eyes, similar to a puppy begging for attention.

You peek out the ground to ceiling-level windows, laughing to yourself. “I didn’t know teachers got paid so much.” Satoru grins, nodding toward the windows – or rather the city outside of them. 

“Oh you know, I got kind of a side hustle going on.” He shrugs, then turns to you, that mischievous twinkle back in his eyes. “You should see the bedroom.” He offers you his hand, jerking his head to a hallway. “I hear the owner hates it when the bed is made, the least we should do is go mess them up for him.” You take Satoru’s hand and let him lead you into the bedroom at the end of the hall. 

Once the door was shut behind you the playful comments were thrown aside – replaced by frantic kisses and undressing. Satoru sits on the foot of the bed, watching you in all your splendor. Your body was that of a dream, your breasts, the slope of your stomach, thighs, fuck everything about you was glorious. Satoru couldn’t remember how to breathe gazing upon you. “Like what you see?” You tease, positioning yourself over his lap. 

You brace yourself on his shoulders, settling onto your knees. Satoru blows out a choked noise. “Thank fuck I have so many eyes because I couldn’t imagine not being able to see all of you like this.” His hands are on you, running up your back, molding his long fingers into your squishy tits, and then down your side to dig his nails into your hips. “Are you okay with this?” He inquires, tilting his head. 

You smile, but a small part of you wants to line yourself up with his cock and bottom out. “I’m okay with so much more.” You breath. He understands, after all you both want the same thing right now – crave it. 

You both wait with bated breath as Satoru lets you guide him into your entrance. With all the teasing and edging closer and closer to this moment, you were far from dry. It was a little embarrassing how slick you were considering there was practically no foreplay. You hiss as his pretty cock sinks deeper into your throbbing cunt. “That’s it, that’s my good girl. You can take all of me,” His grip on your hips tightens, helping push you onto him. A strangled moan hisses out of your mouth as you slump onto Satoru’s shoulders. “Feels s’good baby. God, you’re so perfect.” He’s kissing your temple and you’re squeezing his cock with airy moans. After a moment, he bottoms out, a guttural groan rumbling from within him. “You did so good, fuck,” 

The air feels thick, heady, and fills with the wet sound of Satoru’s cock inside you. “Go-go ahead and move.” You order with a shaky breath. He starts to move, laying back to better fuck into you. You plant your hands on his abdomen, moaning loudly. His length hits every sensitive spot at once, causing you to tremble on top of him.

Satoru chuckles, then suddenly flips you both over. “Come on YN, I thought you’re one of the strongest sorcerers in Japan, you can handle me fucking you.” 

[phie04]

Inconvenience | g. clarke

Chapter 3 - Ikea Trip

Summary: four boys and noa in ikea, what could go wrong?

Word Count: 1.1k+

Warnings: swearing, George being a dick

noamurphy

liked by chrismd10, arthurtv and 13,473 others

noamurphy literally got halfway to Ikea before they demanded to stop for food

comments open

chrismd10 well we were hungry what did you expect?

⮑ noamurphy wait??? to get Ikea meatballs???

⮑ gkbarry_ noa speaking facts as usual

⮑ noamurphy love you babe x

arthurtv but we wanted hot dogs

⮑ noamurphy yeah and I wanted a successful football career but we don’t always get what we want

⮑ arthurhill just saw chris choke on his hot dog after he read this

⮑ fan new Noa lore?????

fan1 she’s so real for giving us this

⮑ fan2 mother really fed us today

⮑ noamurphy I worry for you guys sometimes

fan3 Ikea vlog 👉👈🥺 pls

⮑ noamurphy arthurtv ?

⮑ arthurtv 🫡

“Thank fuck.” Noa muttered, as the car finally pulled into the Ikea store parking lot. Somehow, their half an hour journey had doubled in length when Arthur TV declared that he was hungry and wanted to get hot dogs. “Honestly, all you guys do is think about your stomachs.”

“But I was hungry-“

“Well aware of the Television, maybe you should have had breakfast.”

“I had two Costco cookies!”

“Is that really what constitutes as a healthy breakfast these days.” Noa replied, rubbing her temples. “C’mon, let’s get this show off the road and into Swedish Heaven.”

Noa managed to herd the boys into the showroom area without much fuss, but once they were inside was where the real trouble began.

Arthur, who had decided to vlog the entire trip was running round the bedrooms with Chris, deciding to tumble out of a wardrobe every five minutes to declare that ‘they weren’t in Narnia any more’, which not only drew the attention of all the other shoppers, but some of the workers as well.

“Dixie! Please hold yourself together for five minutes, please? Just five minutes so that I can choose a bed frame and wardrobe…preferably one that you and Arthur haven’t tried to jump out of.” Noa pleaded, examining a black wooden bed.

“What colour do you want everything in? Because that will narrow the search down.” Chris said, before gazing at a set of bunk beds. “You know, if you ever wanted to have more than one person stay-“

“I’m not getting bunk beds Chris.” She sighed. “I’m not seven years old. Or making a nerf war sequel with my cousins.”

Starting to turn red, as the others snicked, Chris shook his head. “I was a kid okay? And at the time it looked good and we had fun!”

“Is anyone feeling thirsty?” Arthur TV asked, a slow grin starting to form. “I could go for a can of quick revive.”

Chris groaned in frustration, throwing his hands in the air. “Children, I’m friends with actual children.”

The four looked at each other, processing what he had just said, before dissolving into fits of giggles. Realising what they had interpreted, Chris shook his head and began to walk off. “Great, now they’re going to joke that I’m a nonce. Wonderful, just what I needed today, really, really it is.”

“Oh come on Chris, we know you don’t like kids. George, on the other hand-“

“Nope not even starting that conversation.” George grumbled, beginning to play with the drawers of one of the bed. “Why would someone want drawers on their bed?”

“If they don’t have enough room for a wardrobe I’m guessing. Not everyone has YouTuber money you see.” Noa replied, raising her eyebrows at him to reinforce her point. George just rolled at her and walked away, causing Noa to turn to the two Arthurs.

“Okay, what is his problem? Was it something I said? Or did?” She asked, moving to go inspect the next set of beds.

“Uh, we don’t actually know, we’re trying to figure it out too.”

“So he hasn’t even told you guys? Don’t you have like, guy time where you air all your grievances about stuff, and then bark like dogs at the end of it?”

Arthur (Hill) snorted. “No, you’re thinking of the Diamond Dogs, from Ted Lasso.”

“Shit yeah I am. Point still stands, he hasn’t said anything?”

“Not to us at least. And then I’d guess nothing to Chris either, because Chris then would have told us.”

Noa sighed as she ran her hand over a wooden bed frame. “Great, so one of your closest friends is pissed at me and I don’t even know why.”

“I’m sure he’ll come round, don’t even worry about it.”

“Thanks.” She muttered. “You know what, I think I’m gonna get this one. It’s cute, it’ll fit in my room, and I’m pretty sure there’s a matching desk and wardrobe.”

Grinning wickedly, Arthur (Frederick) beckoned Chris and George back over to join them. “You know, I reckon you need to test it, just to make sure that you like it.”

Noa smiled and flopped onto the bed. “Happy now?”

“Nah, I reckon you need someone to test it with you know? Just in case you ever find someone, or get lucky on a night out.” Arthur said, turning his head slowly to look at George.

“Why are you looking at me?” He asked, a small undertone of disgust in his voice, causing Noa’s eyebrows to raise gently.

“Well my shoes are muddy, so that’s a no. And Arthur and Chris are like her brothers, so I wouldn’t ask that of them.”

“But you’d ask that of me.” He grumbled quietly, moving to stand next to the bed. George sighed. “Move over then.”

Noa did so, smiling apologetically at George, before shooting a glare at the other three, who had all whipped out their phones.

George bit his lip as he laid down next to Noa, and began glaring daggers at the back of her head. He was hating every second, especially the fact that no matter where he looked, all he could see was Noa. From the top of her head all the way to where her hair fell on her back, obscuring the graphic print on the back of her hoodie. For a second, he wasn’t sure if he was in Ikea or his own personal hell, crafted for him by Arthur Hill.

“Wait, Noa you gotta make sure you’ve got enough room to roll over.” Chris added, throwing the couple an enthusiastic double thumbs up.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Noa said, only loud enough for George to hear, as she narrowed her eyes at Chris, who was too busy grinning from ear to ear, along with the two Arthurs.

George saw this and averted his gaze, doing everything he possibly could to avoid meeting Noa’s eyes as she faced him. He resisted for as long as he could, but eventually caved.

Luckily, he didn’t meet Noa’s eyes, as she had presumably fazed out, gazing at the geometric pattern on the pillow. George’s stare softened slightly has he studied her features, noticing the faint freckles that dotted over her nose, as well as the small circle of amber that added contrast to her icy blue eyes.

George wasn’t sure how he had been staring at her, but he was saved from any further embarrassment by Chris clearing his throat. “Glad that’s over.” He said, immediately sitting up and fixing his hair, leaving Noa behind.

She coughed, rubbing her face as if it would absolve her of any feelings of uneasiness and embarrassment. “Thanks for that.” She muttered to the two Arthurs. “I’m sure that really helped the situation.”

“I reckon so yeah.” Arthur Television agreed happily.

“Being sarcastic Artie, being sarcastic.” She sighed, patting his shoulder.

chrismd10

liked by noamurphy, arthurhill and 386,820 others

chrismd10 can’t buy an ikea bed without testing it first

comments open

fan1 noa??? and George???? what is going on right now???

⮑ fan2 I was there and I don’t think they’re a thing bc Arthur asked them to do it

⮑ fan1 but why would he do that if not for…?

noamurphy hate you arthurhill

⮑ arthurhill love you too

maxbalegde can’t believe my mans in bed with someone else

⮑ noamurphy not my fault I promise he’s all yours x

fan4 I know they say that there’s nothing going on but look how close they are!!!! really confused rn

⮑ arthurtv Watch my vlog and then you’ll be fine

gkbarry_ omg who’s that fittie in bed

⮑ georgeclarke yours truly

⮑ gkbarry_ ew no not you

⮑ chrismd get roasted George

⮑ georgeclarke shut up hobbit

[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt 7

Beta if you're reading this, I'll see you in a bit!

Notes: talks of ableism and homophobia, it's not reader full blown trauma dumping but he's talking about his experiences as a closeted man with a controlling family. Check masterlist for previous parts.

@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris

Pantalone’s demeanour immediately changes the moment the two of you are finally alone. The air in the room is no longer thick with tension, but as he offers you the last little piece of cake, you’re aware of a looming dread hanging over you. You’re aware the choice to finally stand your ground and defy your parents’ wishes, even if it’s just staying for dinner, will have consequences. Even then, witnessing Pantalone scold your parents like children was immensely satisfying, and makes your moment of recognized agency all the more sweeter. 

Speaking of sweetness, the cherry bublanina is delicious. You hum at the taste, and swallow down your mouthful. “That’s actually really good,” you say, “did your staff make it, or did you get it somewhere?”

“It’s homemade,” Pantalone answers, “but I believe the recipe came from an old cookbook one of my chefs owns. I’m sure it’s out of print by now, so perhaps I can ask them to write the recipe for you.”

“I appreciate it.”

Pantalone looks at you inquisitively. “Say, do you cook?”

“I can, I just don’t do it much,” you answer. “We have a couple chefs, and as you just saw, my mother is very… protective, so she’s never liked the idea of me handling knives or being around stoves.”

Pantalone cringes a bit. “I can imagine.”

“I get it to an extent,” you continue, “not being able to see anything that isn’t directly in front of me has way more disadvantages than advantages, but she acts like I’ll immediately forget something unless I’m looking right at it. I’m losing my vision, not my object permanence, I still know where the stove is because I’m not stupid.”

“Does this sort of… situation happen a lot?”

You furrow your brow. “The object permanence or barging in on my private outings?”

“Both, I suppose. I’m asking if she’s ever been this overbearing before.”

You click your tongue, and turn your head away from Pantalone. You find yourself staring at a painting depicting a field of flowers with mountains in the background. After a moment of trying to make out what the flowers are, you sort of snap out of it and remember he asked you a question.

“Um…” You furrow your brow and think of all the times your mother has been overbearing in your childhood. You count incidents in your teen years all the way until now, and come to a realization. “I think she’s getting worse.”

You see Pantalone open his mouth to respond, and then your words sink in and he remains quiet.

You go on. “Compared to when I was little, she’s incredibly overbearing. I don’t even think it’s like she’s just as protective as when I was little, but now that I’m older it feels suffocating. I think she’s genuinely becoming more clingy with me.”

“I… I see. I’m sorry to hear that?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” you say, “and honestly, I don’t really want to talk about my parents right now.”

Your host shrugs. “I suppose that’s fair enough. To be quite honest, I only asked out of courtesy. I put up with your father’s antics and burdens enough as is.”

You chuckle. “I’d tell you you’re lucky you don’t live with him, but it wouldn’t be that different from now, huh?”

“No, it would not.”

There’s a knock on the door, and Pantalone perks up. You hear it open, and hear it’s Fyodor. “Sir, the two guests are having an argument outside.”

You hide your head in your hands and groan. 

“Are they getting physical?” Pantalone asks.

“No, but it’s disturbing the peace and they’re not leaving.”

You hear Pantalone sigh. “If they don’t settle down and leave in the next two minutes, or if it does turn physical, get security involved.”

You presume Fyodor nods before he closes the door. You take a deep breath, humiliation washing over you and sinking into your pores. “I’m sorry, I-I don’t know why I expected them to be normal. I should’ve just declined the invite.”

You hear the scraping of Pantalone’s chair, and the clicking of heeled boots approaching you. You feel him right next to him, and jolt when his hand settles on your shoulder. You lift and turn your head to look at it, and here, you can see manicured nails, shining gemstone rings, and to your shock, how blemished and scar riddled the skin of his hand is. Some of them are small and neat, little cuts and scratches, but some are deep and painful looking, you’re not even sure what would have caused most of them. You can only assume the silvery splits on his knuckles are from old fights. What the hell happened to him?

“Would you care to see the library?”

You tilt your head up and see Pantalone smiling expectantly at you. “Oh, sure,” you answer. Pantalone steps back and lets you stand up from your chair. You push your chair back in before you follow Pantalone out of the room. Trailing behind him like a duckling, you find your pace instinctively slows down and your eyes drift back to the oddly unsettling art pieces he has lining the walls of the hallway. You want to be able to take in the macabre sight of them, which would be easier if you could actually see things normally.

Pantalone’s made considerable distance before he realizes you’re lagging behind. He stops, turning over to see you’ve now fully stopped, staring up at a particularly gruesome scene with some concern and confusion. He chuckles, joining you in staring up at the painting.

“It’s a lovely piece, isn’t it?” he asks.

“Indeed,” you reply, “love the use of red. Some say it’s the colour of warmth and love. I imagine it really puts guests at ease.”

He lets out a little laugh. “You know, perhaps I should have expected an author to have a little knowledge in colour theory.”

“It comes with the territory.”

“We’re almost to the library,” Pantalone states, “though we can stop and chat about art. I’m in no rush.”

You hum. “I’m more curious why all of your art is so… morbid.”

“I enjoy morbid art pieces,” Pantalone answers, “there’s something about the raw and visceral imagery that strikes a chord with me. Do you not enjoy it?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you reply, “I’ll read books about tragedy and horror every now and then, and I enjoy gruesome depictions in art as much as the next person.”

“But?”

You shrug. “I don’t think I’d put them up in every hallway, but that’s also my personal preference. If you like it, more power to you.”

“I’ve had a few members of staff say they’ve been startled by certain pieces when wandering the halls late at night,” Pantalone comments, “so perhaps that supports your argument better.”

“I mean, I probably wouldn’t even see them if I was walking around at night.”

“Right, no peripheral vision.”

“Oh, not even that.” You turn yourself so you can properly talk to Pantalone. “One of the other symptoms of my condition is night blindness. My eyes can’t adjust to darkness anymore.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Rub it in, why don’t you.”

“What are you… oh, oh.” Pantalone chuckles. “Very funny. I’m sure you make that joke a lot.”

“People take me going blind too seriously,” you say, “they’re always worried they’re going to upset me if they even bring it up. That or they try to baby me like my mother does. If I make fun of it, it kind of puts people at ease.”

“Well, going blind is rather serious, no?”

“I mean, yes, but if I’ve already made peace with it, then everyone else should too.”

The conversation continues as you and Pantalone make your ways down the hall. He glances at you over his shoulder. “Apologies if I’m overstepping, but doesn’t it scare you at least a little bit?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m thrilled,” you answer, “but you have to understand that I’ve known about this since I was eight. I’ve been living like this my whole life. Worrying isn’t going to make my eyesight better again, so I just have to grit my teeth, plan accordingly, and just keep going.”

“Fair enough.”

You follow Pantalone around a corner. “Besides, I can still see. I can’t see well, but I can see things.”

“What do you see, anyways? What does it look like for you?”

“Curl your index fingers and thumbs until they make two small holes, and then look through them. That’s pretty much it.”

“That sounds awful.”

“It certainly is.”

“Oh, here we are,” Pantalone says. He takes a step to the right and immediately disappears from sight. You turn to follow him–

Thunk! “Ow, fuck, shit.”

You hear Pantalone snort before he turns his laugh into a cough. “Are you alright?”

You rub your forehead. “It’s not the first door frame I’ve walked into, and it won’t be the last.”

“That was quite loud. Here, let me see…”

When you feel slim, calloused yet smooth fingers take hold of each side of your face, you immediately forget about walking into the door frame. He gently tilts your head up, and now all you can see is his face, and at this proximity you only see his face. He does not seem overly concerned, and his brow is furrowed in concentration. You nervously gulp, face growing hot. You’ve never had anyone this close to you, touching your face so tenderly, let alone another man. Not a man with striking eyes, with scarred, soft hands. Not a man who smells of black tea and leather scented cologne with notes of something floral. 

Your eyes flick down to his lips, for the briefest of glances, and then Pantalone pulls back with a cheery expression. “You have a slight mark,” he tells you, “but nothing that should bruise.”

You imagine you look incredibly and obviously flustered, and your brain is still reeling at the lingering feeling of his hands on your face. You somehow pull yourself together and clear your throat with the elegance of a brick crashing through a window. “O-Oh, good, that’s good.”

“With that out of the way,” he continues, “this is the library.”

Pantalone steps aside to let you properly step inside. Your head is on a slow swivel, taking in the magnitude of the room. It’s magnificent, truly. Walls with bookshelves packed full of books from the tall ceiling to the hardwood floor. In one corner of the room, you spy a liquor cabinet. There’s also a fireplace glowing red and gold with flames, and two armchairs with an accompanying end table, arranged symmetrically a comfortable distance away from the fireplace. 

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

You’re speechless, in utter awe of the room you’re standing in. You step further into the room, marvelling at the sheer amount of books. It makes the “private library” your parents have at home look absolutely pitiful. 

You hear Pantalone walk off. “Could I get you anything to drink? It’s a tad early for it, but I think we earned it for surviving that whole encounter.”

“Um… Oh, n-no, I’m okay for now,” you reply, still awestruck. “Sorry, I’m just…”

“Enchanted?”

“Yes, thank you.” You turn to the direction his voice came from, and after a couple seconds of looking, you find him looking through his collection. He perks up when you speak. “How many of these books have you read?”

“All of them.”

You laugh. “Really? All of them?”

“A vast majority, at least,” he clarifies, “do you not believe me?”

“Would you be hurt if I said not really?”

“Absolutely shattered,” he teases, “I don’t think I would ever recover from the lies and slander.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, fine, I believe you.”

“Splendid.” He shuts the cabinet and gestures to the shelves. “You’re free to browse or take a seat. Dinner won’t be ready for hours, so if there’s anything you want to know or do, feel free to ask.”

“I don’t even know where I’d start…”

“I admittedly don’t read much romance,” Pantalone says, pointing to a shelf somewhere behind you, “but I believe I own some of the classics, and a few others.”

“Are any of them books I’ve written?”

“Not yet.”

“I figured as…” You blink. “Wait, not yet?”

He laughs. “I wasn’t aware of your work when I first met your father,” he explains, “in fact, the night I walked into your office was the same night I learned you were an author. I’ve since then heard good things about your writing, yet I couldn’t decide which book of yours I should read first, so I’m waiting for, what was it called again, Plucking Heartstrings?”

You feel your eyes widen and your face flush. “You… You want to read my new book?”

Pantalone gives you an odd look. “Yes? Did you think I sent the manuscript off simply because I felt like it?”

“You gave me this whole speech about using it to gain my trust and make my mother lower her guard, or something along those lines.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “It wasn’t my only motive, and that was before today’s debacle. The point is I’m intrigued by your book.”

You feel your face grow warmer. “You are?”

“You ask that like I’ve said something unbelievable,” Pantalone remarks. “Honestly, I think most people would be naturally curious if someone they knew was related to an author, or an artist, or a musician. What little I’ve read of your draft, the fact it was accepted by the Yae Publishing House, and all this chatter and fuss about how this book is different and how you’d rather write books like this implies this is no low brow, poorly written smut or cliché riddled fairytale.”

“Well, it’s just…” You sigh. “If people saw you read it, they might think you’re gay.”

Pantalone’s laugh is especially loud, given the two of you are standing in the middle of a library. “I hardly see why that matters. I’m the richest man in the world and a Fatui Harbinger. My sexuality would hardly affect how the people already perceive me. Besides, I doubt me reading a book about two men is any more queer than you writing it. Hell, they’d probably assume the same things about either of us if it was a man and woman.”

“I… guess you have a point.”

Pantalone motions to the armchair closest to you, inviting you to take a seat. You do, and he does as well. The chair is rather comfortable, and you settle in nicely. 

“That actually brings me to something I’ve been meaning to ask, but was unsure how or when to bring it up.”

This can only be bad. “Alright.”

Pantalone crosses one leg over the other in his seat. “Aren’t you worried about your family, well, figuring it out when the book releases?” he asks. “I know you said your father won’t read your books, but I imagine the basic premise will make it back to him at some point, and I know your mother is going to read it.”

You feel a twinge in your stomach and an ache in your chest. Truth be told, that’s part of the reason it’s taken you so long to get the story out. You’ve spent nearly four years slowly poking and prodding at the idea before finally dedicating yourself to it because you feared what your family may think, both of the book and of you.

You think the look on your face conveys your worries, as Pantalone shakes his head. “You don’t have to answer, my apologies.”

“I-I had a whole plan,” you tell him, “for when this book released, because I know this will be seen as me coming out by everyone who knows me or reads my books.”

“Which was?”

“I wasn’t going to be in Snezhnaya when it was finally published.”

Pantalone quirks an eyebrow.

You continue. “I love my home here, but it’s just… with how my condition works, it’s a bit of a nightmare sometimes. The constant storms mean there’s not as much sunlight during the day and night seemingly falls faster. It messes with my night blindness. I’ve been saving up so I can move to Liyue, so I can actually go outside and enjoy some sunlight.” You shift in your seat. “I, um, also want to have a proper garden. I know I’m inevitably going to go fully blind, so I want to have something pretty to look at in my memories, and so I can at least enjoy the smell of flowers when I can’t see them anymore.”

At the mention of Liyue and flowers, Pantalone seems to immediately snap to attention. He appeared to be listening intently, but that really caught his attention. “Is that so?”

You nod. “That’s, um, mostly fantasy. It’s been hard saving up. I do have an inheritance from my late grandfather that was supposed to go to an Akademya education or buying my own home, but I also have to account for travel expenses actually moving to Liyue, getting items shipped over and then buying new furniture, buying my own food, and I’m paying for my doctors appointments and treatments to keep myself from going blind faster. As much as I love writing, I’m not at a point where I can actually live off of it.”

“You know, if you need assistance or advice, you can ask me.”

“I appreciate it,” you tell him, “but I shouldn’t trouble you.”

Pantalone lips suddenly curl into a smile. He leans forward in his seat, intertwining his fingers together. “You do realize who you’re talking to, don’t you?”

You look at him oddly, and then you remember Pantalone is literally a banker, and laugh. “Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“I am serious, though,” Pantalone states, “if you’re struggling to come up with a financial plan that fits your budget, that is a service we provide at the bank. If you want me to help you, though, you’re going to have to book an appointment ahead of time.”

You snicker. “Why not now?”

“Just because I like you doesn’t mean I’m going to give you special treatment on my day off,” he teases.

You shrug. “Worth a shot.”

The conversation lulls. You hear the soft crackling of the fire, and find yourself looking around at the shelves again. Obviously at this distance you can’t see what they are, but you’re still very impressed by the collection. 

After another moment of quiet, Pantalone speaks up again. “So, why did you start writing?”

You clear your throat and look back at him. “I loved to read as a child,” you say, “I only had a few friends growing up, not including my siblings, so I spent most of my free time just reading. As I grew older, it grew into an interest in writing.”

Pantalone nods along. “Now, may I ask why romance?”

“I just like romance,” you tell him, “it’s cheesy, I know, but I enjoy stories about falling in love and finding your soulmate. My family would tease me about how they’re more for girls, so I would hide them in the dust covers of other books.”

“Like your reference material?”

You groan. “Yes, like my reference material. It is actual reference material, by the way, b-but I doubt you would believe me regardless.”

“Will it make it into your book?” Pantalone asks, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“No, it won’t,” you answer, “I spent so long trying to figure out how the hell to even write it that it stopped being appealing, so instead it just fades to black. Let the audience decide what happens and it’ll probably be better than whatever I was trying to do.”

Pantalone smiles. 

You sigh. “Anyways, part of the reason I wanted to write romance is that after a few years of reading about blushing maidens and their prince charmings, I realized two things.”

“Which were?”

“Well, one, that I like men.”

Pantalone laughs.

“And two… I couldn’t find any books that were actually tailored for men like me. Nothing that wasn’t egregiously explicit or horribly distasteful, anyways. I figured if I can’t find anything to read, then maybe I should be the one to write it.”

You watch Pantalone’s expression change slowly with every word you speak. He stops looking so amused by your joke, actually taking your thoughts in. His eyes soften, as does his smile, and in the glow of the fireplace, the way he looks at you is so… warm.

“That’s really a lovely mentality,” he says softly, not a hint of condescension in his voice. “I’m sure someone out there will greatly appreciate it, and I’m hopeful that it will be a success.”

Your stomach flutters, and you hear and feel your heartbeat. You can’t help the smile that twitches onto your lips, that stretches across your face. You tilt your head down slightly so his expression doesn’t distract you. “Thank you. It really does mean a lot to hear that.”

“I mean it.”

You feel your heart in your chest and your throat. Why does he sound so fond when he says it?

A knock on the open door causes you to jump, Fyodor’s voice makes itself known again. “Sir, could I borrow you for a moment? The chef has a question for you.”

Pantalone sighs and stands. He smiles down at you. “One moment, please.”

You nod and watch as Pantalone walks across the library to the door. You hear his heels clack against the floor, growing quieter and quieter until they disappear completely. Soon, you are left in the quiet of the library alone.

You quickly bury your face in your hands as realization hits you at full force.

This isn’t a little crush, and it never was. You want Pantalone.

[itsbeeble]

Gorgeous

SUMMARY: Minghao was the black sheep, though you'd never understood why. Maybe it's time you figure it out.

GENRE: smut, fluff, angst (MAJOR ANGST)

PAIRING: Xu Minghao x afab!reader

WC: 5.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

SERIES TAGLIST: @captain-brie @nobraincellmode

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: this is actually really dark, infidelity, rich people core, p in v sex, exhibitionism (yn gets fingered in the back of her car while on the phone), minghao is possessive, stalker themes, criminal, mentions of blood, reader gets injured, a lot goes on actually i've never written something like this el oh el

A/N: this was NOT supposed to end up like it did, but I decided on a whim to do this. Thank you to @sungbeam and @mosviqu for beta reading this (even if some of it was very last minute). I hope everyone enjoys this as much as I did teehee

“Who is that?” You tilt your head, eyes trained in the direction of someone you’d never seen before at these functions. Your friend, Jang Gyuri, follows your eyes and kisses her teeth. 

“Xu Minghao,” she brings her lips close to your ear so only you can hear her. No need for prying eyes and ears to hear what she has to say and spread unwanted rumors. “I’d stay away from him if I were you.”

“Why?” 

Many people would have described you as innocent. You came from “new money” as they would call it. Your father practically struck gold when he decided in his early thirties to start a business. The company grew quickly, the products being released becoming popular all over South Korea and, eventually, internationally. You knew that you should pay more attention to his work, as you’d likely inherit it one day, but you can’t find it in you to care. With this recent rise to power, you’d been taking advantage of your seemingly neverending access to parties of all kinds. Galas, clubs, birthday parties for the spoiled brats that had been born into this life. You were a free spirit, never one to avoid cameras, and that made you dangerous in the eyes of many in this country. Gyuri told you that, though old money was never afraid of new money, new money had the power of intimidation.

She’d told you many names as examples: Wen Junhui, Choi Yeonjun, Lee Chan, Han Jisung, Bae Joohyun, Kang Seulgi, Chwe Hansol. Though their families weren’t necessarily liked, they held status among the wealthy children for varying reasons— proving their worth being the main reason, intimidation being another. 

Xu Minghao, however, was never a name you had heard in these recent months. Maybe there was a reason for that, you note when your eyes meet his lidded ones and he flashes you a lazy smirk. Your cheeks heat up, and you turn your gaze back to Gyuri. She’s giving you a dirty look, her painted red lips pursed and her eyebrows knit together. 

“He’s bad news, Y/N,” she warns. “Seungcheol will tell you about it, and he’d want you to be careful around him.”

“Seungcheol,” your voice is laced with venom, “is in the bathroom with Seo Yookyung. I don’t think he cares what I do, so long as I don’t ruin his reputation.”

“That’s not exactly what I would call a healthy relationship.” 

Both you and Gyuri flinch, startled by the interruption, and turn to scold whoever jumped into a private conversation. 

You fall short, however, your mouth partially hanging open with shock and, honestly, awe. 

From afar, you could tell that he was attractive but now that he’s up close? You feel like you could sink and drown in him. Long dark hair, thin and pointed face, scrutinizing eyes. He was intimidating to most, this you could tell. But to you?

He was the most gorgeous person you had ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on. 

“Xu Minghao,” Gyuri’s tone is cold and she shuffles to stand just slightly in front of you, something both you and Minghao notice. 

“Jang Gyuri,” Minghao mocks, sticking one of his hands into a pocket in his slacks.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you know by now that you aren’t welcome?” Her words are sharp, and it almost scares you. Gyuri, despite her reputation for being cruel, had always been kind to you. She’d been a sort of mentor to you, teaching you the rights and wrongs in terms of “rich behavior”. She taught you the right people to associate with, and the wrong people to associate with. However, she had never once raised her voice or made you feel unwelcome. Quite unlike how she talks to Minghao. 

“I go wherever I please, Jang Gyuri.” Minghao sighs, a puff of air that makes a few loose strands of hair flutter out of his face. Then his eyes return to you, scanning your body but not in a seductive manner. No, he’s curious. You can see it in his eyes, behind the cold front he puts up. “And…who might you be?” 

“None of your business—”

“L/N Y/N—”

You and Gyuri speak at the same time, and you shut your mouth quickly when she shoots you another nasty look. Minghao, however, is amused. One side of his mouth quirks up in a mild show of this, the corners of his lips picking up. 

“So, which is it?” He inquires. “None of your business or Y/N L/N? I’m not a betting man, but I’d wager that it’s the latter.” 

You poorly stifle a laugh, covering it with a cough. 

“What do you want?” Gyuri hisses out, tapping a heel on the marble floor impatiently. Minghao presses his lips together, loosely shrugging his shoulders. 

“Just wanted to see if I could buy your lovely friend here a drink.”

“She’s taken.”

“She,” you finally interrupt Gyuri and place a hand on her collarbone to gently push her back. “Can speak for herself. And she will need a few more drinks to make it through the night.”

Gyuri sputters out an argument, trying to get you to stop, but Minghao grins down at you and offers his arm. You gladly take it, giving Gyuri one more warning look before you’re tugged away through the crowd. 

“You’re new money.” Minghao leans against the counter next to you while you sit on one of the few open stools left. There’s a martini in front of you, one that’s barely been touched since you received it a few minutes ago. 

“Is it that obvious?” You tilt your head and Minghao smiles, his head dipping down a bit. 

“Not entirely,” he looks back up and shifts his weight. “Only if you know what to look for.” 

“And what, exactly,” you lean toward him, resting your chin on the back of your hand, “are you looking for?”

His tongue runs over his lip, eyebrows furrowing in thought. 

“You’re interesting, Y/N L/N.” Evading the question. 

“Oh?” You finally bring your martini glass to your lips, taking a small sip of the alcoholic beverage. “Why is that, Xu Minghao?” 

“You don’t…you don’t know who I am, do you?” Your lips quirk into a small smile.

“No, I don’t. Is it something important?” 

For the first time since you’d begun talking to him, he falls quiet in a way that shows discomfort. Your smile drops, and you lean back on your stool. 

“Minghao,” you start. “Is there something I should know?” 

You see a muscle in his jaw feather, see his eyes dance around you to see who was around. One of your hands falls to your lap, playing with the expensive fabric of your dress. Now he’s avoiding your questions. 

“I’m…” he huffs out a breath, tilting his head back and scoffing out a laugh. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to someone I just met, but…there’s something about you that I just can’t place.”

“I’ve been told that by many people.” Minghao shifts closer to you, his arm resting on the back of your chair. 

“What else have they told you?”

“That I can be a bit…straightforward.” His other hand is on the counter, and your fingers dance just a bit closer to his, the tips brushing together slightly. “That when I get nervous, I either talk too much or not at all.”

“And…?” He leans his head down a bit. 

“That you’re bad,” your voice lowers, your lips curling into a smirk. “That I should stay away from you.”

“And I take it you don’t listen to these people, do you?” Minghao asks, his voice dropping an octave. There’s tension around you, something so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Not at all.”

“What would they do if I asked you to leave with me?” His fingers finally lace with yours and you hum, pretending to think.

“Seungcheol might not like that very much.”

Minghao scoffs. “You know damn well that he left a long time ago.” 

“But still…” you sigh and shake your head. “Someone has to be loyal.” 

A nod from the man in front of you, and a sly smile. 

“I understand, and I won’t make you do anything.” He squeezes your hand once, and you feel him slide a piece of paper into your palm. He waits for your fingers to close around the paper before he pulls his hand away. “You’ll know where to find me when you change your mind and drop him. And, when you do, I’ll be waiting.”

When he leaves the building, you feel like you can finally breathe. Your shoulders relax, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You’re in the middle of trying to get your body under control when Gyuri stomps back over to you. 

“What the hell were you thinking, talking to a man like him?” Her nails dig into your upper arm, scraping into your skin and causing you to suck in a sharp breath. “Are you stupid?”

“I don’t see what your problem is,” you sigh and finish off your martini before sliding off your barstool. Your feet are aching at this point, and you’re just itching to get out of this dress. “He isn’t as bad as you think he is.”

“Xu Minghao isn’t the man he’s seemed to convince you he is.” Gyuri warns you. “He’s a liar, just like his father is. He’ll hurt you, Y/N, and don’t come crying to me when he does. I’ll just tell you that I warned you and tried to stop you. I won’t help you if you get yourself tangled up with him.”

“It’s a good thing I won’t need your help then, isn’t it?” You retort, tearing your arm out of her grip and straightening your posture. “I know exactly what I’m doing, Gyuri, and I won’t let you or Seungcheol stop me anymore.”

“Gyuri tells me you’ve been talking to Xu Minghao.” Seungcheol looks at you in the mirror as he tightens the tie around his throat. You’re in the middle of sliding on another pair of uncomfortable shoes that will have your toes bleeding by the end of the night, and raise your gaze to look at him.

“I have. Only once, though.” Your eyes return to the ground to grab the second heel. For two weeks you had been talking to this…mystery man. You’d learned more about him every day, of his father’s scandals that would have left his family bankrupt had Minghao not come out and saved the company. You found it admirable but most chose to despise him, refusing partnerships and refusing to admit the good he’s done for his company and family as someone so young. 

And, of course, you had only done this with a little bit of research and a quick phone call to the number he slipped into your hand. You’re sure Seungcheol knows this, knows that you’re too curious for your own good. This is something the two of you had argued about far too many times to count, and he’s since given up on trying to stop you.

“I’m sure that you’re aware of everything, then?”

“Aware of Minghao’s father or of your infidelity?” You rise to your feet, and Seungcheol freezes for just a moment before carrying on.

“Ah.”

“If you’re going to whore yourself out,” Your hand brushes against your boyfriend’s shoulder and you spin him around so you can tie the fabric around his neck. “At least do it where no one will see you.” Your lips are drawn into a tight smile and you rest your hand on his chest. “At least do it where no one will see you, my love.”

“I take it…” Seungcheol watches you walk away and listens to the clicking of your heels on the ground. “...that the engagement is off, then?”

“Correct.” 

“What will you do?” You turn to look at the man you once tolerated, now finding him disgusting. 

“I think that I’ll be just fine. I have an apartment, I have a family that loves me, and a thriving company that I need to learn to lead. You, however, should worry about your status once news of your actions hits the papers come Monday.” 

Seungcheol nods slowly, his tongue digging into his cheek. 

“I have a ride to the gala,” you make your way for the bedroom door, lips drawn into a thin line. “I will have someone collect my things tomorrow morning, so make sure everything is exactly as it is now because they will have a list and I will come for everything you have if your toy for the night has the gall to take my belongings again.”

Seungcheol looks at you for a long moment, watching you leave the room before choosing to follow you. 

“And what of the deal your father made with my company?”

“Find someone else,” you shrug. “My father just wanted to make connections and you happened to give him the perfect opportunity to benefit both companies.”

“I could tell people, you know.” Seungcheol places his hand on the front door, stopping you from leaving. You turn to face him, your eyes narrowed. He doesn’t appear angry, yet he isn’t looking too pleased either. “That you had an affair. They would believe me. They would never believe someone like you.”

An easy smile passes over your lips, and you place a hand on his chest. “I don’t need them to believe me. Gyuri, on the other hand…” you kiss your teeth. “She can be quite the devil, no?”

“Gyuri trusts him?” Seungcheol asks and you can practically taste the disbelief. 

“No, she doesn’t,” your lips draw into a thin line. “She does, however, trust me.”

A silent type of anger radiates off Seungcheol as you turn away from him again. This time, when the door shuts, he doesn’t follow you. You’re glad he doesn’t. It makes it much easier to steady your breathing and the shaking in your hands.

You arrive at the party alone this time. There is no Gyuri and no Seungcheol to protect you from the cameras, from the invasive questions, and the microphones shoved into your face. It startles you and before you can get one foot out of the door, your body freezes up. One of the guards your father hired yells something, and then there’s someone sliding into your car and pushing you back. 

“Take a breath,” a soft, silky voice pushes through the yells outside the car. A hand cradles the back of your head, tangling in your long strands of hair, pulling you closer and tucking you into the crook of his neck. “Just breathe, love.” 

Maybe it's the adrenaline, maybe it’s the freedom you now know you have, but suddenly you’re laughing and pulling away from Minghao. He looks just as stunning as the last time you saw him. Dark hair, narrowed eyes, lips drawn into a thin line. He’s wearing a suit similar to last time— all black, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone. 

“Are you alright?” His hand comes to your cheek, letting you nestle into his gentle hold. “Talk to me, love. Are you alright?” 

But you just keep laughing, and then you’re clutching at his collar and yanking him toward you for a furious kiss. He freezes against you, one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist. It takes him a moment to reciprocate, to get over the initial shock and sink into you. His lips move softly against yours, forcing you to calm down and actually breathe like he’d requested. 

After a few moments, you pull away and lean your forehead against his. 

“So that’s what this is about?” Minghao murmurs. “You just wanted my attention, is that it?” 

“Not necessarily,” you pull away from him, but he doesn’t let you go very far. His hand is just around the curve of your waist, holding you near to him. “I have other reasons.”

“And what would they be?” His lips press against the corner of your mouth, and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach like a teenager in love.

“I like you, Xu Minghao.” God, you sound like one as well. “Very much.”

“I like you too, Y/N L/N.” Another kiss, this time tilting your head to reach the corner of your jaw. The car starts moving again, and Minghao calls out an address. His address, you assume. 

“You’re gorgeous, Minghao,” He laughs against your skin, trailing his lips down your neck slowly. “It makes it hard, you know.”

“Makes what hard, my flower.” 

“To focus. To talk to you. You make me so nervous, it’s infuriating.” Your breath hitches as he sucks gently at the skin above a vein. Your hand curls around his neck, tangling in his long strands of hair. 

Minghao doesn’t respond, but you don’t mind. Not when he drags you into his lap, the fabric around your body now splayed across the backseat of your car. You can hear your phone ringing, but you ignore it until the sound disappears. You focus on Minghao, focus on the feel of his lips on your skin and his hands all over your body. You focus on swiping your tongue over his lip, on pressing forward until his back is digging into the door, the armrest uncomfortable against his spine but neither of you cares.

Your phone rings again and, this time, Minghao pulls away from you, tilting your chin up and handing you the slim device. 

“It’s your father, I think.” His lips press against your jaw, and you exhale shakily. “Shouldn’t worry him too much.”

“Minghao—”

“Answer him.” His hand replaces his lips, giving your jaw a slight squeeze. “Or I will.”

The third ring comes, and you swallow hard. Minghao smiles, his lips curling up as he takes the phone from your hand and swipes on the green button.

“Y/N.” Your father’s voice is steady, and you can hear the exasperation. “What is this I’m hearing from Choi Seungcheol that the engagement is off?” 

Minghao’s lips touch your neck again, his fingers sliding under the fabric of your gown to trace up your thigh. It takes all the power in your body to not gasp into the microphone, your eyes fluttering as he touches you.

“He— what did he say?” You briefly stumble over your words, trying desperately to keep a firm grip on your phone and nearly failing when Minghao’s hand dips past your lacy underwear. Two fingers prod at your core and your breath hitches. Your free hand drops down and grips Minghao’s wrist tightly. He shoots you a playful smirk, lips puffy from kissing you and from sucking at your neck. You let him go.

“That you’ve left him. That you had an affair with…” you hear shuffling on the other end of the line, and then a loud sigh. “Xu Minghao?”

“That would be a lie, father.” You inform the older man, and Minghao’s fingers sink deep into you. It’s a wonder you haven’t moaned into your phone yet but with the way his skillful hand pumps in and out of you, soon you very well might. His thumb pushes at your clit, and you let your head drop into his neck, begging silently for him to have mercy on your poor mind and body. 

“Is that so?”

“Seungcheol had an affair. Well, several affairs. Minghao simply helped me realize that I wouldn’t—” Your voice cracks as a little whimper almost makes its way out of your mouth. Minghao leans his head against yours and you can feel his cheeks stretching into a smile as he continues to drag his fingers in and out of your sopping-wet walls. He scissors them a bit, and then you feel a third sink into you. Your legs begin to shake and try to close, and with his free hand Minghao grabs onto one of your thighs to hold them open. “—wouldn’t be happy if I stayed with him.”

You hope that the shaking in your voice can pass as upset tears.

“I don’t— It doesn’t matter if you end up happy. I want what’s best for you and the business. Marrying Seungcheol would have balanced this.”

“Marrying Seungcheol would lead to a miserable life and the downfall of two companies.” You snap back, and you hear Minghao beginning to whisper praises into your ear. With red cheeks and a swelling heart, your hips begin to roll down on his fingers. “Minghao, at least, will keep me happy and will benefit both companies in many ways.”

Silence on your father’s end, and a knot begins to form in your stomach. 

“Don’t cum yet, flower.” Minghao murmurs, licking at the skin under your ear. “Wait until he hangs up.”

I can’t. You want to scream. Every curl of his fingers, every brush of his thumb against your clit. It’s all becoming too much for you. It’s incredible you’re able to keep yourself together while on the phone.

“Is this what you really want?” Your father asks, and your whole body shudders against Minghao. 

“It— it is.” You gasp. Another pregnant pause. Fuck, it’s like your father wants you to suffer.

“Have him come by my office tomorrow for lunch. We’ll all talk then.”

You don’t get the chance to respond before he’s hanging up the phone and the car is rolling to a stop. Minghao rips his fingers out of you, effectively ruining the high you’d been approaching. 

“You’re— you’re horrible.” You whine, watching as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean. 

“You love it, though.” He grins and slides you off his lap so he can get the door. Your body feels like jelly, your mind in a haze. You hardly notice Minghao tugging you by the hand, guiding you out of the car and to the front door of a beautiful house— so beautiful that it nearly takes your breath away.

Minghao’s arm is placed delicately on the small of your back, and you let him guide you into the house and up a grand marble staircase. You can’t begin to express the awe you feel. You can’t help the giddy feeling in your bones when you reach the top of the staircase and Minghao takes your hand. It appears, however, that he is feeling just about the same as you when he smiles so wide that you fear his lips would become stuck like that, and he drags you quickly toward a bedroom.

You let him press you down on the bed and let him kiss his way from your mouth to your jaw, down your neck, and begin to peel the straps of your gown down your body so he can expose more and more skin. You feel like you’re burning up, feel like your body is being set ablaze wherever he touches your body. The zipper along the side of the dress is tugged town, and you raise your hips so Minghao can peel it down the rest of the way and throw the fabric somewhere across the room.

“I should be mad at you for that,” you say to him, although you relish in the feeling of his lips trailing down the valley of your breasts. “That dress was a very expensive gift.”

“Oh?” Minghao’s voice is muffled, and he tugs your panties down your legs as he speaks. “From who?” 

You watch as he begins to rid himself of his clothing, watch as he reveals every gorgeous inch of his skin to you. 

“Seungcheol.” His gaze hardens when he sees you smirk. 

“Then I should burn it, I think. Replace it with something newer, prettier, pricier.” He hovers his body over yours, lacing the fingers of one hand through your own and using his free hand to align himself with you. A pleased sigh is emitted from your lips as he sinks in, back arching as he begins to stretch you out.

“Is that so?” You breathe out. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling his face closer until you can kiss him. 

“Mmm.” Minghao hums against you, beginning to roll his hips slowly into yours. “I should burn everything that he has ever given you, I think.” 

You can barely respond, your voice seemingly broken and replaced by gasps for air as he begins to thrust into you harder and faster and you can’t seem to get control of your body. He doesn’t care, though. He doesn’t care that you can only roll your hips into his, can only bite into his skin, and leave dark marks that he won’t be able to hide (not that he would want to). Knowing that you’re enjoying this, fucked too dumb to speak even though he’d only been inside of you for barely a few minutes, it’s all enough for him. It’s more than enough. 

“What would he say if he saw us like this?” Minghao continues, his hands sliding down your legs and gently pushing them farther apart. “Hm? Would he stop me? Would he try to fight for you?”

You try to tell him he wouldn’t, but all that comes out of you is helpless babbles. 

“I would,” he hisses, and the knot in your stomach returns. It builds and builds, growing tighter and tighter with each passing moment. “He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve to touch you, to feel you.” 

“And—” you finally manage to choke out a few words. “And what— what m-makes you—oh god, Minghao please— think that— that you do?” 

“You already know why, my flower.” Minghao’s hips are slapping against yours at a pace— at a furosity— that you can’t keep up with, “Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” 

The knot in your stomach snaps, your walls fluttering around him but he’s relentless. He pounds into you as your body convulses underneath him, your pathetic whines and moans turning into desperate wails. 

“I’m better than him in every way,” Minghao grits out, desperately fighting off his own orgasm. “Do you know how long I’ve been keeping an eye on you? How long I’ve wanted to take you from him? You have no idea how hard it was to not take you into the bathroom that night and fuck you the way you deserved. I wanted so badly for you to be mine.”

Overstimulation begins to wash over you, becoming a pleasurable sting that you don’t want to go away. His cock twitches inside of you and his breathing becomes heavier. You can see him trying to say something more, but all that comes out of him is a heavy groan, and then his hips are stuttering against yours. Warm cum spills into you, mixing with your own, and spilling out onto the sheets beneath you. Your legs thrash in Minghao’s grip, but he pins you down as his hips slow. His hair is messy, his forehead tinged with sweat. You can see his mouth hanging open a bit, heavy breaths rolling out of him. 

Do you know how long I’ve been keeping an eye on you?

The sentence replays over and over in your mind amidst the scattered post-sex thoughts. 

How long I’ve wanted to take you from him?

Minghao rolls to the side, laying beside you on his large bed. 

He didn’t say anything to you, and you didn’t say anything to him. 

It was pure silence. A silence that allowed for clear thoughts. 

Do you know how long I’ve been keeping an eye on you?

The drive to your father’s company the next day is…quiet to say the least. There’s an air of discomfort around the two of you and you’re unsure of whether it’s due to him having to meet your father or the conversation that will follow. Minghao, much like the night the two of you met and you’d asked about why everyone seemed to disapprove of him, was tense. His hands were set on his knees, squeezing tightly to the point of his knuckles turning white. His head is turned away from you, keeping his gaze on the city as you drive. It makes you nervous. Had you done something wrong? Was he regretting everything? 

You swallow hard, mimicking his position and turning to look out the window. 

Do you know how long I’ve been keeping an eye on you?

There had been something so off about the way he said that. You still couldn’t quite figure out what it was, and it had your stomach churning uncomfortably. 

The feeling only worsens when you pull up in front of your father’s building and Gyuri is standing with Seungcheol. Both look upset, standing straight with their arms folded behind their backs. 

“What is this?” Minghao murmurs, thanking the driver quietly when his door opens. You slide out behind him, taking his hand in your own as he helps you stand. 

“I’m…I’m not sure what this is.” You admit, your eyebrows knitting together as Gyuri approaches you. “Gyuri, what’s happening?”

“You need to come with me,” she tugs at your arm, attempting to pull you away from your new lover. 

“What?” Your hand tightens in Minghao’s, your feet gluing into place. “What— what are you talking about? Gyuri, what’s going on? What is Seungcheol doing here?” 

“Y/N,” Seungcheol steps toward you, but Minghao is faster and pushes you behind him. Your hand dislodges from his, and you yelp as Gyuri practically rips you away from him. Your knees hit the ground, skin scraping against pavement. The door of the company building practically flies open, a few police officers filing out with your father taking up the rear. 

“Father?” Your throat is closing up, too many emotions pulsing through your body. 

“What is this?” Minghao is yelling. People are stopping on the streets to stare. Gyuri and Seungcheol pull you to your fight, and you don’t think you have the strength to stop them. “Y/N, WHAT IS THIS?”

For a moment, you’re afraid. He lunges for you, and two officers grab at him. He looks rabid, his eyes crazed and teeth bared like some animal as he yells and screams and kicks against the people holding him. Your father approaches you, relief replacing the typical stone-cold gaze he gives you.

“What’s happening?” You’re sobbing now, blood washing down your legs. Gyuri is crying with you, and Seungcheol’s hands are shaking.

“Are you alright?” Your father asks. “Did he do anything to you?”

“I— what—” you can’t breathe. 

“Xu Minghao,” an officer speaks over the commotion. “You are under arrest for the crimes of criminal harassment, assault and battery, and extortion. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney—”

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME—” Minghao’s hand flies out, nearly clipping the officer in the jaw as he finishes speaking. 

He yells obscenities, yells for you, at you, at the people around him. He curses wildly, using every name under the sun, threatens death upon everyone.

Do you know how long I’ve been keeping an eye on you?

“I’m sorry.” 

Gyuri is sitting on the chair beside you as you get your knees treated. You stare blankly ahead of you, and she turns her head to Seungcheol, silently pleading for help.

“Y/N,” he says slowly, “do you understand what’s happening?”

No response.

“Minghao…we told you he was not the man you thought he was. You fell too hard, too fast, didn’t give us time to tell you everything.” 

Silence. Gyuri starts talking again, not knowing if you heard anything they were saying.

“He’s…he was planning on using you, Y/N. Using you to get…to get your father’s company, just like he did with his own father. It…it was all fake. Everything you learned about him, everything we all thought we knew about him…it was all lies. It was in the small details.”

People always said you were innocent. People always called you naive. You trusted too easily, loved even easier. It made it easy to use you, to take everything you had and throw you to the side. Some people of new money were able to gain the respect of those of old money, but you?

No one would ever respect you. 

Not after you fell for the gorgeous man, fell for his gorgeous lies and fantasies. 

Thinking about him here in this hospital room…

Something about it makes you want to sink and drown and die. Maybe that would be easier.

“Can… can I leave?” you look up at Seungcheol, tears welling in your eyes. He looks heartbroken. “I want— I want to leave, Seungcheol. Can we leave?”

Heartbroken. That’s the look in his eye that you couldn’t recognize last night. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t the realization that he had lost you. 

“We can go. It’s over now.”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[hp-confessions]

This fandom is literally so funny and strange (as a poc it’s even more baffling I guess), and as a person who is still pretty much an outsider to all of this (I still have a lot to learn and haven’t really connected with any characters or ships or anything yet) a lot of the things I see are kinda like “out of context” or like how it looks to me from the outside lookin in.

Like fans will hate on a ship because of so and so reasons but then turn around and ship a pairing with those same things.

For starters, Dramione bashers will hate on it because “boohoo bully x victim / oppressor x oppressed / racist x poc, that’s like so disgusting!” but then will literally ship Pansmione or Drarry…as if Pansy doesn’t fall under the same category as Draco, and Harry isn’t only a half-blood but usually depicted as a poc within the fandom (or they’ll even ship like Jegulus but imagine James as poc)… wtf is that? There’s not a thought behind those eyes (and I know I said it’s funny, and it is, but this one is actually gets on my nerves. And their justification for it never actually really correlates to their original argument. Always “but Drarry has more moments and makes more sense,” “doesn’t matter they were literally obsessed with each other” like who tf cares about that? that has nothing to do with what you were stating. They still fall under the same thing. Maybe don’t use these serious types of arguments if you’re literally just going to contradict yourself a second later to essentially just ship the gay version of it).

Drarry bashers hate it because “they had no chemistry and make no sense,” “they were enemies and hated each other” but then ship Dramione… nurse, she’s out again. Seeing things that are not there is a clear sign that you need help.

Snily bashers will hate on it because “ew, an incel death eater who says slurs and bullies kids and is a terrible teacher” but then ship Regulily or Bartylily (or just lily with any other death eater they deem rich and attractive), as if Regulus and Barty don’t fall under that same exact category as a death eater, as Snape. They’re in a hate group y’all, they most definitely say “slurs” too. Thinking otherwise is just delusion, especially when it’s stated that those two were proud death eaters. And anyway, didn’t Barty literally try murdering children or Harry? Did he not torture the Longbottoms to insanity and then practically torment Neville by showing him in class what spell he used to torture them with? The lights are on but clearly nobody’s home. Lost causes atp.

Romione bashers hate on it because “oh Ron was so mean, and ungrateful, and they were always fighting, he never loved Hermione” but will ship Dramione…please, do I need to say more? Like i’m trying so hard to pick up what you’re all putting down but it’s so shit that it wont stick. What are you all on?

Harmony bashers hate on it because “omg no, it’s incest” or “why can’t friends just be friends” but then ship Ronarry, Ginmione (or whatever), or even the canon ships Hinny or Romione, as if they all don’t fall under that friends-to-lovers dynamic, and can be classified as somewhat incest-y depending on differing views or interpretations and whatnot. Harry is practically adopted into the Weasley family, he is pretty much seen as another brother to them, hell, he even confuses his relationship with Ginny as brotherly. Hinny and Ronarry are pretty close to that ‘maybe incest’ line, and anyways seeing as all Purebloods are related it’s safe to assume they’re actually genuinely related (although very distinctly and depending on how closely related people make Charlus potter to Harry and his line I suppose). As for Romione, they very much gave either siblings or an old married couple with all that bickering while I was reading through. More so than with Harry and Hermione, who were honestly pretty tame with each other and were kind of just…there? idk, I’m not much of a shipper, so my mind doesn’t automatically go to wanting characters together romantically. But Ron and Hermione were funny and reminded me a great deal of my little siblings who used to never stop fighting and have even tried multiple times setting my grandmothers birds and hamsters on each other, which never did anything but make our lives harder with trying to find said animals (gahhh, those rascals. I lowkey miss those times). But yeah, the arguments are flimsy. Dumb, dumb, and dumber.

Hinny bashers hate on it because “Ginny is literally just Harry’s mom,” or “Harry is projecting his mother onto her” but then will ship Harmony… like they don’t headcanon Hermione to act like whatever version of Lily they’ve got in their head, and have Hermione act like an overbearing mother to him. Spoiler alert, but Ginny doesn’t look nor act anything like Lily, you guys are obviously the ones with the mommy issues here. Free Harry from your insanity.

~

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Thinking About Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Post Game

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

A/N: Some stuff with them in the underdark, some stuff with them exploring more of Evie's family. Honestly just random ideas I've been sitting on for a while. Please let me know if any of these sound like something you'd like to see expanded on in a fic. I've got so much, I have no idea what to focus on. As always thanks to @leighsartworks216 for letting me ramble.

So basics first, Evie convinces Astarion to let the 7,000 spawn live and retreat into the underdark meaning that once the Absolute is defeated, they have a lot of work to do

I am sticking with the idea that Evie actually is Gur, but due to circumstances didn't grow up among her tribe, so not only is this her helping the spawn, but a chance for her to reconnect with that part of herself

Astarion helps the spawn adjust to their new lives while also teaching the Gur how best to help their children, understanding and empathizing with their cravings. 

Evie meanwhile gets the opportunity to learn more about her culture acting as a kind of middle man when Astarion gets a little too heated with some of the leaders

Astarion working with his "siblings" as well

It's a hard adjustment for them from competing for survival to realizing they won. Obviously old grudges and resentments remain, but working through them to be more than what Cazador made them.

Being the oldest of all the spawn, some of them start to step up as leaders in their own right, or while others decide to embrace their freedom and leave the Underdark. 

I want to say that Astarion and Evie stay for at least a year, if not a little longer; enough to get things stable, but neither of them want to stay there forever

Astarion has a lot of the world he wants to see, and he knows it's selfish to keep Evie in the dark forever

Evie too, having now learned more about the Gur, realizes that she might still have family out there and wants to find them

Astarion brings up on occasion about how he doubts they'd be keen on her walking into their camp with a vampire, but that's a bridge they'll cross when they get there

They spend the in between time adventuring

Neither of them really considered themselves heroes before The Absolute, but they find they're actually rather good at it

Evie's more altruistic tendencies have rubbed off on Astarion a bit, but not enough for him to shy away about asking for that promised reward

Astarion also takes this time to experiment with hobbies

He genuinely enjoys embroidery and sewing. It relaxes him and gives him something tangible he created by the end of it.

Evie would try to teach him how to play an instrument and while he’s not completely tone deaf, he insists he’s a better audience member

Astarion in turn starts to teach Evie how to properly read. Although that doesn’t stop him from reading out loud to them when they ask.

He admittedly isn't the most patient of teach at times, but they're both learning

Eventually though, they do find Evie's family

The find themselves battling a vampire lord and get way in over their head resulting in Evie being hit bad

Astarion is able to escape with her, but it’s obvious she needs help fast so he stops for help with the first group he finds, a tribe of Gur who currently have their caravan based on the other side of a river which keeps monsters like him from crossing. 

Still he knows there is nobody else and so yells across the river for help

The Gur come out and tell him to cross, he says that he can’t and that alerts the Gur as to what he is

Astarion realizes he's in trouble, but the love of his life bleeding in his arms takes precedent

He lays her down, holding his hands up and begging them to help her. The Gur recognize her as one of their own, but don’t trust Astarion. So as they start to cross one of them shoots him nearly in the heart sending him down as the other rush to grab Evie.

One of the younger ones looks like he’s going to finish it when another speaks up saying they remember speaking with another caravan about a pale elf spawn traveling with one of their own. Best hold off until they get some answers. 

So they get Evie to their healers and tie Astarion up with silver chains in one of the caravans and out of the sun. Astarion is cooperative enough, save for his tongue which the Gur can do nothing about except tell him to shut up.

Most of his comments boil down to asking about Evie and calling them some variety of the word idiot. 

All of this to say I now have an image in my head of Astarion being tied to a post when Evie comes in. Whatever anger or annoyance he had at the current situation slides off his face when he sees her, breathing out her name in sheer relief. 

Evie then quickly closes the distance ignoring any warning from the guards and checking him for injuries. He’s still hurt from the arrow to the chest and obviously the silver which he’ll worry about in a second as he uses his limited movement to kiss her. 

She starts to untie him which the guards protest against, but Astarion dryly counters “And where will I go this time of day?” Evie then starts to heal him and that’s when the leaders show up and some answers can be given.

Not the best first impression to say the very least, but answers are given and the leaders quickly realize her mother and father were originally from their tribe

I got into it a bit more here, but basically her father was turned away and her mother followed leading Evie to be raised away from her people

She holds her breath expecting them to turn her away, but is shocked when they embrace her too; they won't hold her responsible for what her father did

And while many of them are wary of Astarion, the Gur in Baldur's Gate have let it know that he is their ally

As soon as Evie realizes that not only did she have a family out there, but they would have accepted her back completely shatters her sense of self

All those what ifs start flooding her brain. Resentment towards her father rears it’s ugly head until all she can do is scream at everything she might have had. She could have been happy and safe and loved, and instead…this. 

It makes her want to hold on tighter, diving head first to learn everything she can to the point where maybe Astarion gets a little nervous. Yes, he has his prejudices against the Gur and he’s been working on it, but they also don’t know these people and he doesn’t want to see Evie get hurt. 

Astarion actually starts to back away for a bit. He knows this is important to her and she needs time to figure it out. So having him around, somebody who this new family is rightfully suspicious of might not be the best. He wants to stay with her. He wants to be her family, but it’s selfish of him to assume he can be her only family. From what he’s been able to glean her mother made that same mistake. Perhaps he should go back to the underdark for a time.

Evie feels him pulling away and confronting him about it. 

I imagine Astarion would clam up at first; denying it before eventually blurting out everything he’s been feeling in some not so polite terms. He’s a monster in their eyes not matter how much Evie tries to claim otherwise. Some might see him as a novelty, but they can’t ever trust him. He doesn’t blame them. Smart really. 

Evie then suggests they both leave. And he’s tempted.

He wants to just go, just the two of them on the road going wherever they like whenever they’d like. She’s the only family he really wants, but he stops himself. Hell he’s angry at himself for stopping. He’s about to make the biggest mistake of his life. In what world would she ever come back to him?

But he says no. He tells her she needs to stay. He knows she’s not ready to go. (She may never be ready to go, but that’s a fear he keeps to himself.) He loves her. He loves her in ways he didn’t think he could love another person, but he can’t stay. He’ll be waiting for her when she’s ready.

Evie meanwhile is mentally scrambling. She wants to stay. She still has so many questions. This is the first time she’s felt like she’s belonged in so long. But she can’t lose Astarion. She just can’t. The idea of him leaving only makes her think of every back turned her way, of being a burden, too much, not enough, never enough. But Astarion loves her. She knows he does. So, she has to trust that he means it.

It's their first real test, being away from each other

Evie takes the opportunity to explore aspects of herself she kept buried for a long time

Astarion meanwhile doesn't go straight back to the Underdark

He takes the time to go to Waterdeep to see Gale. He visits Shadowheart and Wyll and Karlach and is surprised every time that they’re happy to see him. He still misses Evie. Gods he misses her every day, but he comes to recognize that there are other people in his life. He’s not alone in the world without her.

Evie would reach out to him first, sending a letter that admittedly takes some time to find him as he’s bounced around the sword coast

Eventually Astarion does gets it and writes back in a heart beat to see her again. Or maybe even gets somebody to cast sending so he can contact her faster.

He only thinks after that maybe he was a little too eager. This is just a chance to see each other again. For all her knows she’s going to tell him she’s going to stay with her people. But he couldn’t seem to help it.

There’s a difference between missing somebody you know you’ll never see again and missing someone you might. Just that little bit of hope makes it so much more painful. He’s not used to it.

So they meet. Maybe in Waterdeep or just some place else between where they are.

Astarion deliberately forced himself to wait at least an hour after sunset. Yes, he could go earlier, but, again, he doesn’t want to appear too eager. He still has his pride, but any bravado disappears as soon as he sees her.

She’s already sitting at a table, an empty plate and drink in her hand. Clearly she had been waiting for some time. And Gods she’s even more beautiful than he remembered.

She’s dressed a little differently, more clearly Gur from the fabric to the way her hair is done, allowing herself to stand out in a way she didn’t before.

She then meets his eye and he all but sighs in relief; she missed him too.

Maybe there was a time they both would have played this a little closer to the chest. They would have politely sat down and danced around the question of who wanted to stay and who wanted to go, reflectively waiting for each to deliver the killing blow. There’s no such hesitation now.

Evie is up and across the tavern in the next second, all but jumping into his waiting arms. He has to tease her just a little, even when he holds her to him like she’s the only thing real in the world. “Miss me darling?”

She only hugs him tighter, tucking her head beneath his chin. “Always my love.”

They do eventually talk. They sit down and tell all of what they’ve done. They talk about where they’ll go next and the list of people they need to see along the way. But there is never a question of whether or not they will stay together.

One separation is more than enough for a lifetime

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

moon song - m. murdock

a/n: oh boy. uh. thanks for all the love on my last fic, so i decided to give you an incredibly angsty fic. this one is for all my male readers but honestly i want everyone to read it so. as always, reblogs, feedback and comments are always appreciated! warnings: internalized homophobia, cursing, infidelity, angst, hurt/no comfort, casual homophobia (teasing not anything insane) catholic guilt and symbolism, bisexual karen page, i'm not an elektra anti, making out, alcohol to cope, reader has a lot of coming out moments word count: 3.4k summary: you hate that elektra and matt are getting married. will you convince him not to go through with it? can you? pairing: matt murdock x male!reader now playing: moon song - phoebe bridgers "and if i could give you the moon/i would give you the moon/you are sick/ and you're married/and you might be dying/but you're holding me like water in your hands"

You’re in Josie’s when they realize. It’s like any other night, Foggy to your left, Karen to your right, as you watch Matt and Elektra play pool together. You take another swig of your whiskey, and tap your fingers on the glass, desperately attempting to try and listen to what Karen and Foggy were laughing about.

Two more weeks. That’s all you have to do.

In two weeks, Matt and Elektra will be married, and that’ll be that. They’ll live forever in their New York penthouse, fighting criminals and having beautiful children. That is their fate, and you’ll give your best man speech at their wedding.

All will be well, and you can bury your feelings deep down under alcohol and other women. No one will ever know what you really think of the happy couple.

You’re happy when Matt beats her at pool and they head back over to your table, where they absolutely hang over each other.

“We’re gonna head out.” Elektra says, a slightly drunken smile on her face. Matt hums and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Meeting with the florist tomorrow.” Matt tells you all.

“I’m going to grab another drink,” You announce, and look at them. “One for the road?” Matt smiles at you, and for a moment, you think he must know.

“I’ll come grab one with you.” He turns to Elektra to ask if she wants one, but she shakes her head.

“I have to finish this one.”

So, you and Matt head over to the bar, his hand on your arm. You wonder if he knows.

“You seem distracted,” he tells you, and you figure you’re caught.

“Just working on my best man speech. It’s all up here.” You tap your forehead. You order two shots for the pair of you and take them quickly with your best friend. “Getting excited?”

“Yeah, it’s just kind of crazy. I’m nervous, is all.. And she seems to be totally fine with the whole thing.”

You bite back a bitter comment about both of their commitment issues.

“I think she’s just as nervous as you are.”

“I can hear heartbeats. Trust me, she’s not.”

“But you’re in love with her, right?”

If you weren’t so drunk, maybe you would catch his moment of hesitation.

“Yeah.”

“Then what more do you need?”

“You’d marry someone just because you’re in love with her? That’s all you need?”

Not just someone. You know who you’d marry.

“That’s all I need, Matty. You think too much. Have another shot.” He laughs at this and pats your shoulder.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

“Says you, I’m a bachelor, still.”

“So am I—For the next two weeks.”

“And yet,” a voice says behind you, “You’re still accounted for.” Elektra says, approaching the pair of you at the bar.

You both turn to her. You’re drunk enough so you don’t tense.

She hands Matt his jacket, and they link arms. Jealousy fills your mouth, and it tastes like venom.

“Elektra.” You smile and nod to her.

She says your name before adding, “Have a goodnight.”

“Goodnight.. Get home safe, Matt.” You say, smiling at them as they leave.

You turn back to the bar, where your smile falters. You take a seat, resting your head in your hands. You’re not drunk. That’s not what this is. When you look up, Josie is there and hands you another whiskey on ice and sends you this knowing wink.

Your face burns, and you nurse your drink. What did she know about your life? You only spent every Friday and sometimes Saturdays here. You sit there in your pity for a while, thinking about it all. You’ll plan a vacation for when they get home from their honeymoon. You’ll fuck someone you’ll never see again and by the time you get back home, you’ll be over it.

You’ll be the godfather to their first child; Matt will be the best man at your own wedding. You’ll live the rest of your life with this deep dark secret that no one, not even your best friend, will ever know.

Except, you forget that Karen and Foggy are in the bar too. They slide into the seats next to you and just look at you for a while.

“I might be tipsy, and I might not have super senses, but I can tell you’re looking at me. What is it?” You finally pick your head up and look at them.

“I figured it out.” Karen says.

You’re too drunk for this.

“Figured what out, Miss Page?” You ask.

“Me too,” Foggy adds. “And to think, you almost had us.”

“What?”

“The bachelor life. The one-night stands. The constant rotating door of girlfriends because you can’t have the one you actually want.” She continues.

You feel sick. How did they know?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You say, as neutrally as possible but it comes out defensive.

Then Foggy says it.

“You’re in love with Elektra.”

And you stop. They think they have you. Then, you start laughing. Like a crazy person, like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. God, it’s so dumb. You’re just that good at hiding it.

“Nice try, guys.”

“We saw the way you were looking at her while they were playing pool! That’s why you’ve been acting so weird since they got engaged.” Foggy reasons. You know what it looks like.

You took another sip.

“That’s because I’m not in love with her,” Elektra is intelligent, beautiful, and funny. Anyone would be lucky to have her, you’re sure. But you hate that she’s happy for another reason. “It’s because I’m in love with Matt.”

• • •

You’re nineteen years old. You work at a pizza place between semesters, with Matt often coming to visit you. You’re best friends, and he likes to come in, grab a slice and a diet coke, have you take your break with him, and then leave.

One day, he’s late to do this routine and an older coworker says to you, “Where’s your boyfriend?”

Your face burns.

“He’s not my boyfriend, asshole! I’m not gay, I wouldn’t ever dream of it!” You had said, a story you’ve told others and yourself so many times that it doesn’t feel like a lie anymore.

Matt walks in a few minutes later.

The truth is, if you’re honest with yourself, you’ve had feelings for Matt for a long time. Ever since you met him at church one Sunday, you’ve felt this need to be closer to him, to be with him all the time.

You knew what it was then, just like you know now. And just like now, you hated yourself for it.

But it got worse over the years, in a way that you just couldn’t push down like you had done for so many other people.

You became a nurse and when Matt became Daredevil, he used this fact to his advantage. And for a long time before this, you were able to keep how you felt about him at bay. You were able to just be his best friend, and nothing more.

But he crawled into your window one night, drunk on pain and whimpered as he asked you to stitch him up. By the time you were done, he laid there half naked on your couch, and your hands were covered in his blood.

You felt guilty for wanting him while he lay there, wounded. But in another way, you felt baptized, relieved that you were allowing yourself to accept a truth that you had denied for so many years.

And it got worse from there.

After admitting to yourself that you had feelings for him, it became prevalent that there was no going back.

You stopped by the office for lunch this one time and you walked into his office to see him lounging casually at his desk, tie half undone, sleeves rolled up, and hair slightly disheveled. You scolded yourself for being so into him.

And then he got back together with Elektra.

For a while, you figured this was a good thing. A great thing, even. Matt would date Elektra and you could move on, maybe admit to yourself that you liked guys and start dating more of them.

And it worked, for a little bit. It was easier to not love him when he was around Elektra because of how obviously happy he was with her.

Then they got engaged.

You were so angry at yourself for letting it happen, so angry at yourself for not saying anything, angry at him for not noticing, angry at him for not wanting you.

So, you started to date other girls.

And this is how you lived for so long, dating women you didn’t like in favor of burying the immense love you felt for your best friend. Until last week, when you broke up with your girlfriend because you just couldn’t take it anymore.

There would be no telling Matt, sure, but there would be no telling anyone how in love with him you were, there would just be you, coming out and dating men that eased the longing for him.

Until that night at the bar, when Foggy and Karen catch you in this vulnerable state.

They walk you home from the bar that night, as you slip into a drunker and drunker mind. You won’t remember anything after that confession in the morning.

Karen hands you your pajamas and a glass of water. She helps you into bed and holds you as you cry.

“Will he ever know how much I love him?” You ask, drunk and in a different pain Matt was in that night you stitched him up.

Karen shushes you gently and tells you she’ll call you in the morning.

You don’t remember saying that in the morning. All you know is that you’ve made an immeasurably stupid mistake by telling them.

• • •

On Monday, you have off because you worked a 12-hour shift the night before.

Foggy sends you a text asking you to bring them dinner while they work on some cases.

You oblige, ready to push down your feelings until the next time you’re drunk.

But when you get there, you don’t see Matt. You assume he’s in another room, grabbing coffee. You hold up their dinner.

“Hey guys, I brought Chinese.” You tell them, sitting at the table after handing them the bag. You lean back in your seat, keeping your cool.

“Why didn’t you tell us you’re in love with Matt?”

You snap back up.

“I’m sorry, can you be a little more discrete, considering the man has super hearing?!”

Karen rolls her eyes.

“He’s not here. He left a little while ago to go pick up his tux.”

Your jaw clenches, jealousy sewing the hinges shut.

“I didn’t even realize you were into guys.”  Foggy says.

“That was intentional. I never really.. developed feelings for any other guys. Matt is just..” You look down at the chopsticks you’ve been twirling in your fingers. “I just see him and there’s nothing I want more than to just have him, nothing more than to just beg him to want me.”

Karen and Foggy both know the feeling.

Because it’s no secret that Matt is this alluring force of nature especially when it comes to his charisma and determination. Everyone either wants him or wants to be him, and its why Elektra is so perfect for him. They’re similar people.

And who are you? Some nurse who can’t even admit when he’s got it bad for his friend.

“You should tell him before the wedding.”

You scoff at the idea.

“And ruin our friendship? Ruin his wedding day? I’d rather see him happy and oblivious than lose him completely.”

But Karen and Foggy know you well and can see how this is starting to wear on you. You’re losing yourself grieving something that could never have been.  

“You owe it to him and to yourself.”

“I don’t. I know you guys’ care, and I appreciate it. But there isn’t anything to do. Matt and Elektra are going to get married because they love each other and that’ll be that.” You tell them. “Matt won’t ever know how I feel, and I’ve made peace with that. He wouldn’t want me and I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“But how do you know—” Karen starts, but you cut her off.

“Matt’s never expressed any interest in men, and to my knowledge he’s never been with any.”

Then, Foggy says something that haunts you.

“That’s what we thought about you before Friday.”

And it rattles within you, all throughout your body and your brain.

It stays with you throughout the night, and into the next day.

You can’t get it out of your head.

Maybe you could tell him. Just tell him and add on if he doesn’t feel the same, to forget you ever said anything.

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself hope.

You lay in bed that night and fall asleep thinking about it. About if he’ll say yes, if he’ll kiss you like you wanted him to.

You spend days with this thought, with it rattling around. One day you wake up and are greeted by your calendar and see that the wedding is the next day.

You’re sick with nausea at the thought and realize how horrible of an idea it would be to tell him.

You pretty much spend all day, sick, staring at your suit and thinking about how horrible it would be to watch Matt get married to someone who isn’t you. In the church where you met. Not even knowing how much you want him.

You contemplate your options.

You could go to Elektra, beg her to call off the wedding and let you have him.

You could fake being sick, leave the country and block his number.

You could tell Matt the truth.

You opt to call Karen.

“I don’t know what to do.” You say, this vulnerability in your voice that you wouldn’t show normally.

“Oh..” She says your name softly. “Do you love him?” She asks.

“Karen..”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. You know I do.”

“Then tell him that.”

“What if he wants nothing to do with that?”

“Then at least you know.”

And then you ask her the real question that terrifies you.

“What if he does?”

“What?”

“What if he wants me like I want him? What do I do then?”

She wants to ask you, who cares? If Matt wants you just as desperately as you want him, what matters after that? But she felt this way towards Matt Murdock once, so she knows how horrible it is. And she’s fallen in love with women she can’t have before, so she understands.

“Then let yourself be happy.” Is her answer.

• • •

The day of the wedding comes.

You think you might be more nervous than either of them.

You sit with Foggy and Matt in the basement of the church, sipping a whiskey. Matt has his scotch, and Foggy has his rum. The lot of you have rather distinguished tastes.

Matt looks so fucking good. Your heart races. Foggy sees your nervous look and finishes his drink, clearing his throat.

“I’m gonna go check in with Marci and see how everything’s going so far. We have to be up there in ten.” He reminds you. He turns and leaves.

You’re with Matt, alone in your feelings. He’s fixing his cuffs and tilts his head towards you.

“Why is your heart racing?” He grins. “I’m the one getting married.” You say nothing. You take another sip of your drink.

“You’re reading it all wrong.” You tell him. And that isn’t a lie. You’re on the verge of saying it.

“Whatever,” He chuckles. “Help me with my bowtie, please?” He hands you the untied bowtie and you take it. You take it and step towards him.

Your hands are shaking as you wrap the bowtie around his neck and tie it, with this gentleness reserved for only those who truly know you. You can feel his breath against your skin. It’s enough to make you lose your mind. Your fingers fumble with his bowtie, and when you’re done, you straighten it out a bit. He looks really good. He’s yet to close his suit jacket and put on his glasses, but he will soon.

“Matt..” You say softly. “You know I feel about you, right?”

He pauses.

“You’re my best friend.” He hums. “Of course, I do.”

Your hands rest on his shoulders. Your fingers twitch.

“No, It’s more than that.” You tell him. “I love yo—” You’re unable to finish your confession.

Because Matt is kissing you, his hands on your sides, and pushing you against the church basement wall. You melt into the kiss, your hands going up to cup his chin. You feel this swell inside of you, like your prayers have been answered.

Kissing this man you love; you’ve never felt closer to God.

He deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue between your lips and pressing his body against yours, ruining your perfectly unwrinkled suit.

He kisses you for a few moments more.

Then, he pulls away, but you bring him back for another one by his collar, and he happily obliges. Your hand goes up to the nape of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair. Then, he pulls away again.

“That was…”

He stands breathless before you.

“I know.” He finishes.

“What happens now?”

He has this confused look on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what do we do next?” To you, it’s so obvious. He should go find Elektra, call everything off, figure out what it would look like to be in a relationship with you. He should say I love you back.

“I’m going to go upstairs and get married.” He says, like it should be the obvious answer.

“What? But you just—”

“I know what I did, but… I can’t…”

“You can’t? You just did.” You defend.

He grabs his glasses where he set them on the coffee table earlier.

“I’m sorry, but we just.. We can’t.”

“No! Not we, there is no we, right now, You can’t! I have been waiting for that for years and you kiss me like that, and you decide you can’t?” You spit out.

He nods.

“You’re right.” For a moment, you live in a world where you’ve convinced him. “There is no we.” He says and turns to the door to leave. You follow him, and before he can open the door, you’re grabbing him, turning him around. Your lips are against his as if to beg him to change his mind. He lets you think you’ve convinced him.

When he pulls away from the kiss, you whisper it out.

“I love you.” You say. “Please, don’t…”

He wants you to ask him not to get married. You won’t. He’d say no anyways.

He steps away from you, buttons up his suit jacket, fixes his bowtie and puts on his glasses.

“Come on, we have to go.” He tells you. He turns and steps out, grabbing his cane on the way.

He leaves you longing for more.

He might not ever give it to you, you realize.

The ceremony is beautiful, and these two will be happy together. It kills you. You watch your best friend get married after kissing him, and something in you is breaking all the while. You were wrong.  You should have told him earlier, you should have gotten over your fears, you should have kissed him so long ago.

You book a flight to the Bahamas for two weeks and take off work or as much time as you can. You just can’t watch the happy newlyweds. It’ll break you even more than it already is.

But at least you and Matt are still friends, right? That’s what this was all about? Keeping him in your life, even if it meant not having him in the way you wanted? You’re willing to give up your happiness if it means he’ll stay in your life.

You’re frustrated, too, especially because the kiss did nothing to deter your attraction, it just makes you want him in such a way that makes you sick.

You’re in love with Matt Murdock and he knows it.

It’s a shame his wife doesn’t.

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The One That Got Away - Chapter Six

Warnings: tw: child abuse, tw: physical abuse, tw: verbal abuse, mentions of therapy, heavy angst, language, self-loathing.

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

A/N: There are TRIGGER WARNINGS in this part - please heed these, and if you think you’ll be affected by any of them, please do not read.

A/N 2: And so here is the next part that made me cry as I was writing it. Have tissues at the ready... and maybe some ice-cream to soften the blow, and know that I am giving you a big, squishy hug at the end 💖

You can catch up here!

 My Masterlist AO3    Ko-Fi

My dearest Dean,

My therapist gave me this exercise to write letters to the people in my life - the good and bad. To get things off my chest that are weighing me down and need to be said. She said I could send them if I wanted, but as it stands right now, I don’t know if you will ever read this. This is the first of five I plan to write. You, your mom, Uncle Bobby, and my father. He will never see his, but there is a lot of shit I need to get off my chest about him. I also need to write one to myself. Give myself forgiveness or some chick-flick bullshit! 

Dean let out a chuckle as he read her opening words.

That’s right… you read that right! It does say therapist! I know you always told me to go. Told me that it’d help. But you know me, stubborn to the core and will go out of my way to do the exact opposite of what I’m being told to do just to piss everyone off! Trust me, some things will never change! But I guess what I’m trying to say is… you were right.

I fought it and fought it, but when the nightmares got worse, and I started seeing him all over campus, at the bar I work in, the coffee shop I study in, the grocery store… You get the picture. I knew I had to at least try it, and… it’s working.

It’s such a relief getting everything out in the open. Knowing that I really, honest to God, did nothing wrong and didn’t deserve any of it. I know you never judged me, and you never would, but there were always things running through my mind that I never told anyone. Not until now, at least.

It was always swimming around in there that it was somehow my fault. That life would’ve been much simpler if I’d died that night. Maybe my father was right. He and Mom could’ve had more children and softened the blow.

I dreamed of a better life every night - at least when the nightmares stayed away. My dreams would show me what life would be like if Mom survived. Sometimes I had a little brother. Sometimes it was a sister. We’d spend weekends playing in the yard or baking cookies together. I’d run down the sidewalk to meet my father on his way home from work, and he’d pick me up and swing me around and around. He’d lift me onto his shoulders, and we’d walk home together laughing, and I’d feel like I was on top of the world!

But then I’d wake up, and the world around me was so cold and dull. He’d be passed out on the couch again, and I’d have to make myself breakfast and get ready for school. Those mornings, I honestly wished I were dead.

More tears leaked from Dean’s eyes as a sad smile overtook his features. He wished she’d had the life she dreamed about. If the spark was still there between them, he swore to himself that he’d make sure any kids they might have in the future had a life exactly like the one in her dreams.

I know you always told me that none of it was my fault, and I know deep down in my heart that it’s true, but there has always been that nasty voice telling me I’m not good enough, that I’m a waste of space and I deserve to be treated like shit. The voice that would whisper: ‘Stop complaining. People have it worse than you.’

You know it’s one thing for the people who love you to tell you that the voices are lying, but it doesn’t sink in until an outsider tells you that. So, thank you, Dean, for babbling on endlessly about going to therapy. Without it, I’d never have thought about going, and I’d have given in to the destructive ways I began using to drown it out.

I’ve wanted to call you so bad, but it wouldn’t be fair to keep putting my shit onto you. I was the one who left you. 

Dean knew more tears were streaming down his face now. He knew all eyes were on him, but he couldn’t care less. All he could think about was that he’d somehow failed her for having such negative thoughts and never fully believing it wasn’t her fault.

Before therapy, when things got too much, I coped the only way I knew how. Well, the only way I’d been taught - I drank. I also developed an unhealthy relationship with sex to feel something… anything that wasn’t pure hatred for myself. I let men use me in any way they wanted to. I might as well become the filthy little slut my father always told me I was, right? Of course, it didn’t work. Not really. It only made me hate myself more.

It shames me to tell you all of this because I know it makes me a stranger to you. It turns me into someone you no longer know, but as therapy goes on and I’ve stopped using those harmful coping methods, I realise I’ve changed. For better or worse, those experiences and getting treatment have made me a different person.

He dropped the letter from his gaze and sobbed again. He wept for the girl who was taught to drink away her problems. To the girl whose father’s words had cut so deeply into her skin that she became the thing he’d always accused her of being.

Memories of the first time she told him her father had accused her of having sex with him, and he’d called her a filthy little slut crawled to the forefront of his mind. She was only twelve years old.

Sam’s hand on his back brought him back to the present, and he huffed a loud exhale before picking up the pieces of paper and continuing.

I’m mentally and physically stronger now (thanks to kickboxing and self-defence!) I have more confidence in myself, more self-esteem, and more self-belief. But I know that underneath all that, I’m still me. I’ve found the girl I was before I lost my sparkle and before her crown slipped.

I’m becoming a whole new woman, and I need you to know that you started to build her, Dean. Your love gave her the solid foundation and supporting walls she needed to soar skyward. The structure was shaky for a little while back there, and I didn’t know if it would all come crashing down, but I had your voice in the back of my mind telling me that you loved me, that you’d always love me. And it stopped the world from shaking and the structure from crumbling.

You laid the foundations for me, and each supporting wall you built is at the core of the new me. Because of you, I found the strength to open up and start the healing process. Because of you, I was brave enough to leave and start a new life. Because of you, my colours, which started as dull shades of grey, became soft pastels and are now neons, shining brighter than ever. Because of you and your unconditional love, I’ve grown my wings, and I’m finally learning to fly without a safety net.

Thank you for not asking me to stay, Dean. Because I don’t think I’d have taken this time to fix and heal myself if you had.

I love you. I always have, and I always will. And I miss you every goddamn day. I need you to know that, and I need you to believe that. I hope that one day I’m strong enough to come home and tell you this face to face, but that’s still too far out on the horizon. 

There’s still so much building I need to do to solidify myself, and I promise I will do it. I’m gonna be that little girl who was your best friend again. I’m gonna be that young woman you fell in love with again. I’m gonna make you, Uncle Bobby, and my mom proud. I won’t end up like him; I’d rather die than make his words true.

As I read back, it feels like this is a goodbye, and I guess it is, in a way. It’s a goodbye to that frightened and sad little girl everyone once knew.

I hope with all my heart that we meet again someday, Dean. I hope you get to see the woman I’ll become. I hope she makes you proud, and I get to tell you she’s here because of you.

All my love, always and forever,

Y/N xx

Dean wiped furiously at his eyes, cleared his throat, and huffed loudly. He hugged Mary tight and whispered an emotional ‘thank you’ that was only heard between mother and son.

“I would’ve dropped everything and gone to Chicago if I’d read this back then,” Dean said.

“I know. And so did Y/N. It’s why she told me to wait until the time was right,” Mary pulled back from his embrace to look into her son’s eyes. “And it wouldn’t have ended well for either of you. Y/N needed to heal and grow. If you’d gone to her, she’d have given up therapy, sacrificed her healing for you.

“What you had was special, there is no doubt about that, and it could be again, but with her fragile upbringing and your unconditional need to protect her all the time, it could’ve only ended in two ways…” Mary stopped, and Dean nodded his head.

“Either she’d have lost herself completely, swallowed up in my shadow, or I’d be in prison for murdering her father,” Dean finished for her.

“Exactly. Y/N knew that, too, and she didn’t want either of those futures for you. She wanted to grow and learn how to take care of herself. Stand up for herself. Fight back. She could only have done that alone. She had to become someone you didn’t need to protect,” Mary said.

“I’ll always protect her. I’ll protect everyone I love,” Dean countered, and Mary smiled.

“I know you would, Dean, and we are so proud of you for that, but she’s a lot stronger than you give her credit for, and there’s a big difference between needing to protect someone and wanting to,” Mary cupped his cheek and gave him a soft smile before she moved to sit at the table.

“So, what happens now, son?” John asked. “I know you still love her.”

“I’ll always love her, but I’d like to find out if I’m still in love with her,” Dean replied.

“It’s clear that you are, Dean,” Sam added with a smirk. “I don’t think you ever stopped.”

“Yeah, maybe. But that letter is at least ten years old, and Y/N talks about being different. Shit, I’ve changed too. Who knows if that means I still love her, feel nothing but platonic love or will fall in love with her all over again?”

“I don’t think she’ll have changed as much as you think, Dean!” John said with a soft smile.

“I hope not,” Dean smiled. “Still, I don’t wanna get too excited. She might not be in love with me anymore. Plus, she’ll have a lot on her plate with moving back, settling into a new job, and a new life. Her dad is dying-”

“Dean, you can’t put off seeing her,” Sam insisted.

“I won’t. But I won’t force myself back into her life when everything’s already in the air for her. I’ll let her settle, and then if she agrees, we’ll meet and talk.”

Next Chapter >>

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[lady-margaret]

bridgerton season 3 part 1 opinion (as someone who has read all the books + is kathony biased so be warned)

after sitting and stewing on what i just watched for a few hours

i’d like to start this off by saying that due to my disappointment of the writing from the last season, i was way more gracious with this one. kate and anthony were great because of simone and jonathan; i’m not sure the writers had much to do with that.

anyway, what i’m saying is that i already knew not to expect the writers to be faithful to the source material (romancing mr. bridgerton), so i was able to enjoy myself more. additionally, polin’s book isn’t exactly a favorite of mine anyway, so there wasn’t a lot to be too disappointed with in my case.

what i liked:

penelope’s wardrobe; they hyped up the “transformation” so much and i’m glad it did not disappoint.

colin’s hot 😌

eloise’ wardrobe; someone pointed out that it had a lot of philip references, so yay 😀 (it has me worried that it’ll be her story next though, we need ben first)

eloise interacting with the other ladies of the ton was really cute and refreshing; she’s learning that despite them having different interests than her, they are still people of great value. the difference is eloise was raised in a loving and supportive family, unlike most of the others.

sibling’s g&h’s personalities coming through more (they are anthony’s children, truly).

featherington sisters as comic relief.

MARRIED KATHONY CRUMBS 💕💕💕 they carried episode 1 for me.

FRANCESCA 💕💕💕 gorgeous introvert representation.

FRANNY AND JOHN 💕💕💕 (i am both ready and NOT ready to get hurt 🥹)

book references (yay! the bare minimum!)

lord debling’s dope.

i actually do like that they gave cressida a legitimate reason to want to win the competition money to unmask LW in the second part.

the music choices haven’t disappointed yet!!!!!

colin’s line for the season is def the “well are you gonna marry me or not?” line HEHEHEHEHE i ALMOST screamed as loud as i did when john entered when he said that line to pen.

as an army, plus points for dynamite 🤭 i didn’t expect to like the orchestral version and didn’t see the vision of where they would even insert it, but i actually liveddd for it.

what i don’t really have strong feelings about:

mondrich plot; alice is beautiful but the addition of their family storyline didn’t make much of a lasting impact.

the queen; she was very meh so far.

the featherington storyline: the sisters are funny, but their whole situation mixed with the humor leads me not to take it very seriously.

violet x lady danbury’s brother: 🤷‍♀️ i don’t see it.

the “lady danbury’s brother” storyline in general is very forgettable.

what i disliked:

i think nicola and luke could use more chemistry; they fall short compared to daphne&simon and kathony (HEAVY ON KATHONY THIS IS WHY THEY REMOVED THEM FROM THE REST OF THE EPISODES SIGH)

they kinda mischaracterized colin (he spent the last two seasons being selfish and putting himself above everyone else violet, what the hell are you talking about “you never place yourself over others” 🤨)

the lack of ben time?? did he go back to the academy after taking over for anthony briefly??? what did he do besides dodging debutantes all season????

they glossed over benedict running the estate so quickly; this could have been an opportunity to draw out his storyline, especially since he mentioned that he liked having a purpose: WRITERS???? DO SOMETHING WITH THAT!

i also didn’t really care for the ben x tilly arnold plot; unless sophie’s actually a maid of her’s or something, i don’t see her point in the show besides just be another one of ben’s ever changing girl of the season.

im sorry but eloise would never SHOULD NEVER have befriended her (ex?) best friend’s bully, no matter what the circumstances. that is NOT eloise.

honestly, them revealing whistledown in the first season is really screwing with the writing; in this regard, i wish they stayed more faithful to the book and how colin finds out about LW. it all just seems so messy at this point.

so s3 starts when kathony end their honeymoon… how long was this honeymoon? math isn’t mathing cuz it couldn’t have been more than a week given that kate isn’t obviously pregnant yet in the first ep.

i know that colin and pen are longtime friends, but from how they’ve interacted with each other in the past seasons, it’s a bit harder to believe that they were close CLOSE friends; close friends to the extent of helping the other find a spouse through “lessons”? i don’t see it. that’s why i was a bit ??? when i first found out about the plot they were going with for the season (in the book, colin really just starts following her around cuz she was being sus)

i hate that they had to come up with an excuse to get rid of kathony for the rest of the episodes; i get that they’ve been running their separate households alone for most of their lives and want a break but… i don’t think they would abandon their responsibilities for an “extended honeymoon”. knowing them, running the estate isn’t gonna stop them from being wh0res!! they help each other out with the estate and are still sickeningly in love and have time for each other (in the books). i was also really hoping to see kate taking over the viscountess role. i swore they would have done something like that after that cute/awkward moment when they both respond to “lady bridgerton” in episode 1.

i get that it’s established that penelope’s one goal for the season is to get a husband, but as i know her character, she would NEVER get into races (?) or run just so she can talk to a suitor before anyone else does 😭 okay but it was funny.

i am kinda sad that they couldn’t have just let a mean character or a villain character be the villain character; yea sure, i did say that i liked that cressida had a legitimate and well thought out motive for wanting the LW reward money but, idk i could’ve lived without her storyline.

one of the BIGGEST THINGS for me is that i do not think they should have released so many clips/snippets of the show days or weeks before it came out. i understand like 1 clip, but i skipped SO MANY SCENES because i have watched them at least 5 times already on tiktok or twitter.

the two part season idea is dumb.

i’m scared for how messy part 2 will be (in terms of both writing and just how stressed i will be with the revealing of LW plot HUHU poor pen) but i’m still looking forward to it 😇😇😇 and despite all the things i didn’t like, i did still enjoy it. if i do rewatch it or not is still to be decided; s1 & s2 have such high rewatch value.

franny and john were TRULY a standout though. i cannot even begin to describe how loud i screamed when he finally said his name out loud 😭💕

verdict: the writing is getting messier, get jonathan bailey in that writer’s room ASAP