#it's a bit of... glancing at each other's meals without supporting

[ohmeadows]

When did you discover your love for writing?

this ended up being a bit of a story, so. sorry for length.

must have been around 2001? i went to a really underfunded school in a broke town and we didn't have anything to do after school ended, so i mostly went to my grandma's and read books she bought me. one day i came home and she'd bought the lotr trilogy, and it was a very difficult translation. it took me months of careful reading on her couch. then i finished it and it felt like my life transformed. i watched the movies as they released in the cinema, i didn't have any friends to hang out with on the weekend so i'd beg my mom to drive me to the nearest big town and let me watch fellowship of the ring again. i couldn't get enough, so i started visiting fansites for it and thus discovered fanfiction. my english wasn't great, but i couldn't stop thinking about writing something for myself. yes, mary sue/self-insert, whatever. yes, it was with legolas and aragorn and all of those.

my fanfics were, obviously, not good. but i had a good time making them. i connected with a community of writers who had a ton of advice to give out, who suggested books to read, movies to check out. while i'm not in touch with any of them anymore, i know some of them went on to become university professors and literary translators, and that's pretty cool. i honestly remember less of the writing as much as i remember the community i kept having on livejournal. on top of that, writing a journal almost daily was really good consistent writing exercise. i loved writing so much that it became The Hobby for me, and i kept the lj and a physical journal going at once.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Jacaerys returns to Dragonstone after spending some time in Winterfell. He comes back looking differently…and has learned some new things 😏👅🐱

Request: 9 for Jacee ‘’Where have you learned to do that?’’

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), slight fingering, assumption of cheating

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Months have gone by since the prince Jacaerys left for Winterfell to gain House Stark and the North for the cause of his mother, Queen Rhaenyra. His visit should have been a short one, but Cregan Stark insisted he spent more time in the North. According to his letter, Lord Stark had taken a liking to him and wanted Jacaerys to get a true experience of the North. He said that getting closer to the northmen would help gain their support. 

Life on Dragonstone was lonely without him. A part of yourself was missing. 

You spent time with Baela and Rhaena, helped Lucerys get more confident with his dragon, played with Joffrey when no one would. You were in the early stages of a civil war, the adults didn’t have much time for the young boy. The Queen was grateful for your help. 

A few days ago, after you got back from riding your dragon, a raven came from Winterfell — a new message from Jacaerys saying he should be expected to return in the late afternoon. 

Excitement bubbled in your stomach. 

Rushing to your chamber, you didn't want to greet him smelling of dragon. You shed your riding clothes as a handmaid helped you fill your tub with hot water. She added rose oil to make your skin soft and you made sure to scrub extra hard with the brush. You wanted to look nice for Jacaerys. 

After bathing, you put on a clean dress and asked Baela for help with your hair. She was the best at braiding. 

‘’Do you think he missed me while he was away?’’ 

Behind you, Baela chuckled as she twisted your braids and pinned them. ‘’I wouldn't doubt it, Lady Y/N.’’ 

Hearing a dragon's roar, you jumped and went to your window. The air was gloomy, making it difficult to see through the horizon. You bit your lip, searching for an olive green shape. Although he was a small dragon, Vermax’s red wings were easy to discern in the skies.

You glanced over your shoulder to Baela. ‘’They’re here.’’ 

She finished your hair, ensuring every strand fell perfectly in place, and you descended the stairs with Baela on your tracks. 

As you reached the great hall, you saw the Queen and her children standing near the painted table, accompanied by a hubbub of voices. Lucerys talked animatedly about sword practice while a very excited Joffrey was jumping on his feet, excited to see his big brother. Rhaenyra told them to quiet down and give Jacaerys some air, which made you laugh. 

The sound caught their attention, and Jacaerys' eyes shifted to you. 

He had grown since he left — his shoulders broader, his stature more commanding. His once pin-straight hair now cascaded in soft curls that framed his face perfectly. He looked nothing like a Targaryen anymore. 

‘’Jace,’’ you whispered, a smile lighting up your face as you approached him.

For supper, a small feast was held in his honor. Daemon and Rhaena joined you for the meal, raising their cup to Jacaerys’ return. 

When the hour started to get late, you and Jacaerys retired to your chamber. Half-way there up the stairs, he pulled you into a corner of the staircase and kissed you the way he had been dying to since he got back. You pulled a moan out of him when your teeth glided against his bottom lip, and circled your arms around his neck as his hands were gripping your hips with a strength that was new. 

A voice came from the staircase below — probably one of the servants —, prying the two of you apart. You giggled against Jacaerys' shoulder. 

Once you reached the privacy of your chamber, Jacaerys shut the door and drew you to him again as he kissed along your jaw and down your neck. You moaned under the touch of his mouth, melting against him as your fingers worked on each other’s clothes, pulling at the laces and buckles until they fell off your bodies and onto the floor.

You tried to not step on your dress as you walked back to the bed, then let your shift slip down your shoulders and pool at your feet, leaving you fully naked. 

‘’Gods.’’ 

You blushed as Jacaerys followed down your neck to between your legs, taking his time to admire your body. You had never felt truly desired before him. Only objectified — as were all women in Westeros.  

‘’Do you like what you see, my Prince?’’ you asked, his eyes finding their way back to yours. 

Jacaerys didn’t respond. All he did was gently push you down into the bed. 

You expected him to get on the bed too, but to your surprise, he kneeled at the end of it and pulled you close to the edge. A frown drew between your eyebrows as you looked down. You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing on the floor, but the words got caught in your throat as Jacaerys kissed the inside of your thighs. 

It was something new, but not disagreeable.  

Then, he pushed your thighs further apart and pressed the sweetest kiss right over your slit, causing you to squirm. 

‘’Jace, what are you—’’

Your question died on your tongue as he peaked out and flicked your clit, sending a jolting sensation up your core. Jacaerys didn't stop there — he was far from finished with you. He laid his tongue flat and licked a fat strip up your entrance to your clit, stirring a gasp from your lips. 

Your reaction made him smile, encouraging him to pursue. He took a second lick of your cunt, then captured your clit between his lips to suckle at. You let out a mewl of pleasure, your hand traveling down your body to clutch at Jacaerys's soft hair. He alternated between sucking and licking at you, the room filling with obscene noises as your legs tightened on each side of his face, caging him. 

Releasing your clit, Jacaerys slid his tongue between your folds, tasting your arousal on his tongue. You've had his fingers inside you, but never his tongue. Arching your back, you pushed against his face, asking for more. And Jacaerys was happy to give it to you, adding a finger to the mix and pushing deeper inside you.

With your free hand, you clutched the sheets, biting your lips and holding back the moans that wanted to slip out. Had Lucerys’s bedchamber not been so close to yours, you would not have held them back. But y0u didn’t wish to scar his young ears. The poor boy would not be able to look you in the eyes again. 

Jacaerys withdrew his tongue and added a second finger, moving the former back to your clit and making a slobbering mess all over you. 

The rush of pleasure filling your body intensified and you rolled your hips into his face with abandon as your orgasm snapped. Your husband’s name left your lips in a delicate whimper, throwing your head back as he lapped at you, taking everything you were giving him. 

Easing your hands off his hair, you slowed your hips down. 

Jacaerys took the cue and left your pussy alone. 

‘’Where did you learn that?’’ you asked, looking down between your legs as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

He rose to his feet and fell back on the bed with you. ‘’The North.’’ 

Your heart sank, and a knot formed in your stomach. Thoughts raced through your mind, thinking he had bedded another woman. You would have never thought that he would commit infidelity.

Seeing the concern etched across your face, Jacaerys reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. ‘’No,’’ he said softly, his eyes searching yours for understanding. ‘’Not…’’ He shook his head. ‘’Never.’’ 

His words washed over you like a wave of relief.

‘’Northmen, when they get drunk, they talk a lot. About their hunts, about their horses, about the things they do to their women in bed. I didn’t know women could be kissed there, but I wanted to try it. Did you…did you enjoy it?’’ 

A smile curled on your lips as you looked at him. His physique may have changed while he was in the North, but inside, he was the same nervous boy you wed in the spring. 

You nodded slowly. ‘’Can you do it again?’’

—

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[anyamaris]

Title: Lockdown

Word Count: 2698

Summary: Your first night in solitary confinement isn't so solitary...

Pairing: Prison Warden!Yunho x F!Inmate!Reader

Trope/Au: Non idol AU/Smut

Warnings: Adult language, definite power imbalance here so be warned, reader is a bit of a slut, oral (m. receiving), dirty talk, pet names, degradation, use of a baton, heavy on the caution side because this can be construed as coercive, but reader is into it and fully on board. NSFW 18+ as always. Just a feral mess.

A/N: Omg this would NOT exist without @sanjoongie and @pars-ley cheering me on, beta reading (it was a mess, I know) and being overall the most supportive bitches ever. I love you both.

This was definitely a feral thought born of those fucking pics of him. Stupid Yunho and Aries season. (I love him.)

The door to the cell closes with a resounding echo, the jingle of metal keys snapping the lock into place.

The heavy thud of footsteps walking away slowly fades as you roll your eyes at the small, square solitary cell.

You turn and let out a sigh as you flop down on the tiny cot, the thin mattress not giving you much comfort.

“At least I can get some fucking sleep,” you murmur, resting your forearm over your eyes.

Your mind drifts, as you realize the uneasy feeling of someone watching you, for once is gone.  

Since you’d been locked up here, the creeping sense of being watched has become increasingly disturbing.  

Between the soft breathing at night, a shadow lurking just out of sight of the bars of your cell, and the way there always seems to be someone watching you shower.

Probably just me being on edge, being in here.

The other women were always a pain in the ass to deal with but none of them gave you the impression that they were interested in that kind of way.

Well, outside of being complete cunts constantly  harassing you.

You smirk, savoring the memory of one of your fellow inmates' faces when you’d jammed your fork into her hand as she’d attempted to grab your food.

Totally worth ending up here.

You turn and curl up, a smug smile adorning your face as you attempt to get some sleep.

The buzzing sound of doors opening and closing have long since ceased to disturb you, but the slight jingle of metal keys awaken you from your drifting.

You have no way of knowing what time it is without having a window. It could be day or night, but it did feel like you’d gotten at least some sleep for once.

The heavy, clunky sound of the latch draws your attention, and you wonder if it’s time for your meal.

For a moment nothing happens and you wait, glancing at the small window of the door to see the outline of someone there.

It can only be a guard, you think, turning away to ignore them.

After a moment, the door slowly swings open, then swings closed with a loud thunk.  

I suppose they dropped off food-

The sound of breathing raises the hairs on your neck, quickly grasping the fact  that someone’s inside the cell with you.

That familiar sense of dread washes over you as you freeze on the cot, unable to turn over and face the source of your lurking watcher.

A heavy step echoes through the barren cell, then another and you tense with each one.

You are as far from a wilting lily as they come, and not much spooks you but the creeping trepidation that washes over you causes you to tremble like a newborn fawn.

Bitch, turn your ass over, get a grip, you berate yourself.

It takes much more effort than you’ll ever admit to finally force yourself up and out of the cot, your eyes flicking around to settle on the looming dark figure currently hovering over you. 

The outline of the man (you can only assume it’s a man) is imposing and tall, but the darkness within the cell doesn’t allow much room for any further observation.

“The fuck-?” You blurt out as he just stands there.

Maybe I’m having some kind of weird dream-

His ragged breaths increase as he steps forward once more, his proximity forcing you to take a step back.

A soft, taunting laugh raises the hairs on your body.

“Listen, asshole, I don’t know who you think you are but-”

“But…what?” 

His voice is soft and low, whispering over your senses like snaking fingers curling around your mind.

Just those two words are enough to have you devolving into a confused mess, and the lack of sight is only heightening your other senses.

You find yourself rubbing your arms as you wrap them around yourself, as if you can provide warmth to chase away these sensations.

The prolonged silence between you only enhances the feeling of the walls closing in around you, growing ever closer to suffocating you.

“What do you want?” you finally manage, curse inwardly at how your voice shakes.

For a moment, you don’t think he’s going to answer, but then he steps forward one more time, mere inches from you now.

The immense pressure of his presence causes you to back up, and your knees connect with the cot behind you. You force your arms out in surprise to catch yourself but before your ass can plant onto the hard bed, strong hands are gripping you under your armpits and hoisting you up and against him.

“What do I want…” his voice crawls along inside your ears and for some reason, the sensation of his breath tickling your neck as he leans in causes you to clench.

The fuck is wrong with me, you think.

Before you can process your own fucked up sexual frustrations, he’s laughing softly as his hands slip down to your waist, then around you to cup your ass and yank you against him. 

“What is it I want….” he repeats, as if the thought has only just occurred to him.

Jesus he has big hands, wow.

Godamnit, don’t get horny from this, you fucking slut.

You gasp as his obvious arousal hardens against your lower abdomen, and a soft groan leaves his throat.

His lips brush the shell of your ear and you can feel them curl into a smile as your breath hitches.

“Would you like me to show you what it is I want?”

Suddenly the lights snap back on, and the sudden brightness blinds you for a moment before you can adjust.

Your gaze darts up to finally set eyes on your mysterious stalker and your mouth goes dry at the sight before you.

His dark eyes are huge, and you can’t tell if they are just that black or if his pupils have taken over his entire iris.

His cherry lips curve as your eyes flick over his features as you finally realize who it is that’s currently pushing his cock against you and pawing your body.

Jeong Yunho, the warden of this prison.

You’d met him briefly during one of the inspections of your cell early on, and you remember eye fucking him quite openly.

His dark hair hangs in his face under his cap, and you curse at yourself for the wanton little moan you let out as you study him.

“Answer me.” He commands, his smirk twisting into a snarl as he hoists you up even tighter up against him, your feet leaving the ground and forcing you to grab ahold of his shoulders to steady yourself.

“Yes-I mean, no! No, I-”  

“Good girl.” He whispers, pushing your back against the wall.

You can’t even form words as he drops you onto your feet and grips your hips, turning you around and shoving your face into the cold stone.

“Spread.” 

“Fuck off-”

“Ah, there’s that mouth.” He rasps out, pushing his leg between your thighs.

“Asshole, I swear-”

“What are you going to do? Don’t act like you’re not enjoying yourself.” 

He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, using one hand to hold you in place. 

A sudden, soft rustling alerts you a moment before a hard object is forced between your legs and he uses it to pry them open as he kicks your feet further apart.

You hiss at his words, knowing how true they are and hating that he’s right.

“I’ve seen what you like to do to my guards when you think no one's looking…you’re a filthy little girl, aren’t you?”

He taps the baton up against your crotch and you yelp at the sudden sensation.

“Where’s that charisma now, baby girl? The one that has all my men on their knees for you?”

You whimper as he rubs the baton against your cunt, and you clench once more, as he taps it against you again.

“Nothing to say when you’re faced with someone who won’t eat up your bullshit, hmm?”

Your head swims from the excitement of it all and you can’t argue with any of his statements.

You buck back against him, grinding against the thick bulge in his pants with your ass.

“You just need someone to put you in your place, don’t you? To treat you like the little brat you are?”

His teeth nip your earlobe as he extracts the baton from between your legs and tosses it to the side.

“Please-” You whimper, turning your head to look up at him as you grind back against him.

His smirk only heightens your need.

“Please, what? Use your words. Please, stop? Please, don’t?” He laughs as he grabs your throat and uses his thumb to rub your lower lip, “Please, punish you?”

Your eyes roll closed and he snickers as you shudder at his words.

“Say it.” 

“P-please…”

His long fingers curl around your neck and he forces his thumb into your mouth as he grinds against your ass.

“Finish your sentence.” He commands.

“Please use me, please punish me-” you beg around his thumb, sucking gently on it before he’s pressing your tongue down.

“See? You can behave, can’t you?”

He withdraws his hand from your neck and mouth, bringing his thumb to his lips to suck on it before he steps back from you.  

Your disappointed whine has him snickering as he starts unbuckling his belt.

“Hands on the wall.”

Your eager cuntclenches at the command, the sight of him unbuckling his pants making you tremble and want to obey.

You look over your shoulder at him as he slips the belt from the loops on his pants, his eyes raking over you.  

He steps forward, unbuttoning his pants and smirking as your eyes follow his movements.

“Turn around and get on your knees.”

As much as you want to say something smart, you find yourself immediately obeying, looking up at his long fingers as he unzips his pants and pulls out his half erect dick.

Your mouth waters at the size of him, eyes widening as you lick your lips.

“I didn’t expect such obedience right away. I’m impressed.” He says, stepping forward and tapping the tip of his cock against your lips.

You immediately reach for him, eager to stroke him and feel the way his skin stretches as you do so, but he tuts and swats your hands away.

“Hands off. Open your mouth.” 

You give in to the sudden urge to defy him, pressing your lips together but he grabs your hair, his long fingers tangling in it, and yanks your head back.  

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” He growls as he presses the tip against the seam of your lips.

His rough tone has you giving in, eagerly opening your mouth to him as he stares down at you with a smirk.

You are so used to being the one on the other side of this dynamic that it makes you dizzy from the role reversal.

You stick out your tongue, and he slaps the underside of his cockhead against your tongue as he strokes himself.

“Good girl…that’s more like it…”

As much as you want to hate it, his praise only makes you more keen to please him.

You attempt to wrap your lips around him, but he pulls back with a sadistic little grin.

“Ah ah ah…you need to learn some patience, don’t you?” 

You pout, but this only earns you a sharp tug on your hair, and you moan at the pain and pleasure of it.

“Answer.”

“Yes-yes! I need to be patient.” You reply, staring at his now fully erect cock, the little bead of precum leaking from his slit beckons to you.

“How in the world did you manage to turn my guards into simping little shits, hm? Look at you, on your knees begging for a taste.”

He finally relents and you wrap your lips around him as he gently guides your mouth onto his cock. 

A soft hiss leaves his lips as you eagerly suck, your tongue rolling around on the sensitive spot right below the head.  

“Ahh…good girl…just like that…” he whispers, his fingers withdrawing from your hair to pet you.

Your stare is locked onto him, watching how his dark eyes gleam with pleasure as you work your mouth down and around his length.

His hips move slowly, his hand on the back of your head guiding you but not forcing you. The wet sounds of your mouth on him echo in the small space.

Your hands come up to touch him but immediately, he pulls out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting your lip to his tip.

You whine at the sudden movement and he glares at you.

“What did I say? No hands.” he scolds.

Putting your hands behind your back quickly, you show him your compliance.

“Ah…you’re trying, sweetheart. That’s a good first step.” He coos, as he guides your mouth back onto him.

His soft moans encourage you as you bob your head on his cock, and his hips stutter as your tongue works along the underside.

“Fuck, you’re doing so well…how much can you handle, sweetheart?” he asks, thrusting forward suddenly until he hits the back of your throat.

You feel your panties soak through at the moan that comes from him, deep and ragged, even as you gag on him.

It takes everything not to grab his ass and pull him into your mouth or cup his balls to urge him to cum quickly.

Yet the denial only makes you work harder with your mouth and tongue.

His long fingers dig into your scalp, cupping your head as he starts thrusting into your throat.

“Fuck, sweetheart, gonna make me cum…you’re gonna-fuck!-swallow every drop, understand?”

You hum in agreement, and your eyes alight with glee as his hips start to stutter, his words cutting off with expletives the closer he gets.

“Such a fucking good girl, fuck, I’m gonna cum-!” He growls out, his jaw clenched as he keeps his eyes locked on you.

Your throat starts working as you feel his dick begin to pulse in your mouth, and he thrusts forward one last time. Holding your head in place, his cum erupts and cascades down your throat.  

His grip loosens and he pulls back slightly, biting his lip as he watches you finish him off.

The tangy, salty fluid fills your mouth and you swallow greedily, your stomach twisting in a heated need while watching his face contort beautifully.

Fuck, this man is making you question everything. Your needy cunt clenches as you continue sucking until he pulls out of your mouth.

He pets your hair as he looks down at you, his breathing ragged.

“Open. Let me see.” He taps your cheek with his fingers and you obey.

“Good girl.” He hums, backing up to tuck his softening cock back into his pants, zipping and rebuttoning.

You protest once he starts buckling his belt, scooting forward on your knees.

“But-” you start then stop immediately as he tilts his head and leans down in front of you.

His dark eyes study you, while his fingers trace down the length of your cheek as he smirks. 

“Oh sweetheart…such a greedy little slut for me, already?”

He chuckles at your nod and grips your chin firmly as he presses a harsh kiss to your lips.

“This is only day one, my pet.  Perhaps I’ll come back tomorrow…if you’re good.”

And with that, he turns and leaves your cell without a glance back, the heavy door slamming shut with finality.

A sense of disappointment wars with the overwhelming desire for him to return and show you just what he has in store for you.

Making your way to your cot, your fingers coax out the orgasm that he’d been building in the pit of your abdomen before you fall asleep.

You’re determined to prove that you deserve that return visit.

You can’t wait to find out what tomorrow has in store.

[theshiniestgemstone]

adventurous- gideon gemstone x fem!reader

warnings: smut, minors dni

Gideon took a seat at the table beside you. “Can we talk, sweetheart?”

You nodded, setting your napkin on the empty plate from your lunch. “What about?”

“Feel free to slap me at any given moment,” he started, adjusting his posture. He looked nervous. His hands were fidgeting in his lap, fingers twisting the edge of his T-shirt, and he wouldn’t quite meet your eyes.

“The last time you told me that, you drove a monster truck through an outhouse,” you frowned, raising a brow. “What is it?”

“I feel- well. Okay. So… it’s not you. Like, actually not you. I just-”

“Are you breaking up with me?” you asked quickly, your stomach dropping as you glanced down at the ridiculously sized engagement ring on your finger. It glinted in the afternoon light like it was mocking you. A wedding you’d just started planning flashed through your mind- flowers, venues, the white dress you had stored at your mother's house.

“No! God, no,” he said, alarmed, leaning forward to catch your gaze. “No. Not even close. I just think that our bedroom life is a little… repetitive.”

“Oh,” you said quietly, blinking once. You could feel the blood rush to your face, hot with a mix of confusion and embarrassment. You hadn’t expected that.

“I mean, I finish every time satisfied, and I hope you do t-”

“I do.” You said it fast, almost defensive, like it was important to reassure him. It was true. You weren’t faking anything, and he wasn’t exactly lacking in effort or skill.

“But I think we could change things up a little bit,” he continued, more gently now. “Like… I dunno. Try new stuff. Stuff you’re comfortable with, of course. I’m not asking for anything crazy. Just… maybe a little variety.”

You leaned back in your chair, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Why now?”

He winced. “It’s been on my mind for a while, but I didn’t know how to bring it up without sounding like a jerk. I guess I just don’t wanna let us fall into some pattern where it feels like routine, like we’re just checking off a box. I love you too much to let it get boring.”

You studied him carefully, his expression open and vulnerable. He wasn’t trying to insult you. This wasn’t about dissatisfaction. It was about effort. The same kind of effort you both put into making each other's favorite meals or showing up to support each other at dumb work events. He was just trying to tend to the part of your relationship that didn’t get discussed in the daylight.

“Okay,” you said finally, voice soft. “We can talk about it. Set some… rules or limits. Try some new things.”

Gideon let out a relieved breath and reached for your hand across the table. “Thank you,” he murmured, threading your fingers together. “I promise this isn’t some mid-engagement meltdown.”

You gave a small smile. “I know. But if you ever say ‘repetitive’ again while I’m eating, I am slapping you.”

It took a week. An actual, honest-to-God week of flipping through women-oriented magazine articles about pleasure, desire, communication, and more euphemisms than you thought possible for sex. You felt like a teenager cramming for an exam, highlighter in hand, muttering terms under your breath like edging and temperature play. It was ridiculous and kind of mortifying. And kind of exciting.

You’d given Gideon a list. A real, categorized list. He’d asked for guidelines, and you delivered.

You slid it across the kitchen island to him one evening while he was eating peanut butter straight from the jar. His eyebrows lifted in surprise at the thickness of the folded paper.

“I color-coded it,” you said, arms crossed over your chest, trying to downplay the deep vulnerability clawing at your ribcage. “Green is ‘yes,’ yellow is ‘yes with a heads-up,’ blue is ‘maybe with discussion,’ and red is… well. No.”

He wiped a bit of peanut butter from his mouth with the back of his hand and carefully unfolded the list like it was a map. “Damn,” he murmured, scanning. “This is detailed.”

“I didn’t want to be vague.”

He nodded, still reading. His expression didn’t shift to anything teasing or smug. He was just thoughtful, serious, and respectful. “This is really helpful,” he said, finally looking up at you. “Some of this I wouldn’t’ve thought to ask about. And I like knowing what’s off the table. Makes everything feel… safer.”

That word stuck with you. Safe. Even with a man like Gideon, who could be reckless and wild and jump headfirst into danger without a second thought, there was a strange gentleness to the way he handled the intimacy between you. He never treated it like a given, and he never made you feel less for drawing boundaries. If anything, he looked at you like those lines made you more of a person to him, not less.

“What’s this one mean?” he asked, pointing near the middle of the page. “The one that just says ‘crowds = absolutely not.’”

You leaned on the counter, giving him a flat look. “Exactly what it says. I don’t care how adventurous you feel. I’m not doing anything with an audience.”

He smirked a little. “Okay, fair. That’s a red.”

“That’s maroon.” You reached over and circled it for good measure. “Burn it into your brain.”

He grinned but kissed your cheek as he passed behind you, list in hand like it was a treasure map. “I’m gonna study this like it’s the Bible.”

You rolled your eyes. “If you start calling it the ‘Book of Revelations,’ I’m revoking your green-light privileges.”

He paused, then looked back with a playful glint in his eye. “Can I at least call it Song of Solomon?”

“Out,” you said, shoving him with a laugh. “Out of the kitchen. Go do your homework.”

It started slowly that night a few weeks later, like most good things do.

You were brushing your teeth in your shared bathroom when Gideon slipped behind you, his hands warm on your waist, his mouth pressing a kiss to the exposed curve of your shoulder. It wasn’t new. But the way he lingered, fingertips tracing under your sleep shirt, was.

You rinsed your mouth, catching his eyes in the mirror. There was something simmering behind them, something electric and patient all at once.

It carried into bed. The wandering hands. The long, teasing kisses that paused just long enough to make your heart stutter. He kissed like he was rediscovering you, or maybe letting you rediscover him. Every touch built slowly, layer on layer, until your pulse was humming just beneath your skin.

He pulled back slightly, lips barely brushing yours. “Would you like to review the list?”

You huffed a laugh, blinking up at him. “Seriously?”

Gideon grinned, already leaning over to open his nightstand drawer. “Just covering my bases. Legally and emotionally.” He pulled out the neatly folded sheet sat back on his heels, skimming.

You giggled despite yourself, rolling your eyes affectionately. “You know it better than I do at this point.”

“Still.” He looked back at you, the humor in his eyes shifting into something more careful. He reached out, hand grazing the top of your chest over the thin fabric of your shirt. “What do you think about me giving these a little more attention tonight?” His hand lingered, thumb brushing slow, deliberate circles. “And maybe some bites?”

Your breath caught.

He’d never marked you before. Not really. Not out of fear or lack of desire, but practicality. You had always played it safe between family lunches, church appearances, and the ever-present parade of Gemstone-related press.

But now? Now his voice was low and steady, his eyes asking for more than just permission. He was asking for trust.

You considered it carefully, then nodded, slow and sure. “Nowhere visible,” you said, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear. “But yes. I’m okay with that.”

His breath hitched, just slightly, and then his expression softened into something awed and reverent. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, smiling. “Just don’t get carried away and bite through a nerve or something.”

“No promises,” he teased, already ducking down to press a kiss right at the base of your throat. “But I’ll try to be gentle.”

He wasn’t.

Not completely.

But he was intentional. Slow and exploratory, learning your yeses all over again with his hands, his mouth, and the quiet hum of your name against your skin.

After pulling your shirt over your head, Gideon took a second to just look at you like he always did. Like he meant it. Like the sight of you, laid bare in the soft glow of your bedside lamp, was something sacred. Then he dipped his head, starting slow, trailing little pecks along your neck. His lips were warm, careful, fluttering against your pulse point, then behind your ear, then lower. He sucked lightly in some spots. Not hard enough to bruise, but enough to make your skin bloom with temporary color. Just a whisper of pressure that made your stomach flip.

His hands were already roaming, fingertips brushing over your ribs, settling confidently around your breasts. He gave a gentle squeeze, thumbs ghosting over your nipples.

Then he looked up at you. Really looked. His chin pressed just beneath your sternum, eyes wide and waiting. And then, without breaking the gaze, he leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly over one nipple.

Your body tensed, a sharp inhale slipping past your lips. The response was immediate, your buds tightening under the attention.

Gideon chuckled softly, a wicked little sound that came from the back of his throat. You felt the warmth of his breath fan out over your chest, leaving goosebumps in its wake and spreading down your arms, across your stomach.

“Sensitive,” he murmured with a smirk, brushing his nose along your breast. “Good to know.”

You swallowed, fingers threading through his hair on instinct. “You knew that.”

“I suspected,” he teased, his voice low and rich. “Now I know.”

And then he was back at it, tongue, lips, teeth just grazing, but never too much, always checking, always tuned in to the way your breath hitched and your grip tightened and your hips shifted.

You were panting before you even realized it, head tilted back against the pillow as Gideon gave your chest his full, undivided attention. He was relentless but careful, switching between each breast with deliberate slowness. He was sucking, licking, letting his teeth graze your skin just enough to make you gasp. The way his tongue circled, the way his lips tugged, it had your fingers curling into the sheets.

The coil was starting to wind inside you, but you couldn’t speak, couldn’t warn him. You were too far gone, too focused on the way his mouth felt like fire and velvet all at once.

He dragged a hand over your stomach, up to your ribs, then across your skin again, letting the pads of his fingers memorize every inch. Then he paused, his index finger tapping thoughtfully just beneath the swell of your breast, where your bra normally sat.

“Here,” he murmured, mostly to himself.

And then he leaned down and sucked harshly.

The sudden pull made your whole body jolt, hips bucking slightly as your back arched into him. He didn’t stop until he heard the little noise you made, half gasp, half moan, and then he pulled back with a soft pop, eyes fixed on the deep red mark blossoming there.

“Pretty,” he whispered, almost reverent.

Then he did it again.

And again.

He left matching marks just beneath your collarbone, over your ribs, lower still. Each one earned with a warm mouth and firm suction and just enough teeth to leave your nerves tingling.

Your back arched into him, fingers buried in his hair, as if you could somehow get closer. Your chest heaved, heat pulsing in waves through your body with each pass of his tongue.

You weren’t sure how long he stayed there, worshipping you with lips and teeth and open-mouthed kisses, but by the time he lifted his head again, you were trembling, marked, and breathless beneath him.

“Still okay?” he asked, voice husky and eyes searching.

You nodded, mouth dry, eyes half-lidded. “More than okay.”

His grin was slow and satisfied as he leaned down again, kissing a fresh mark with a gentleness that made you ache in an entirely different way.

Gideon finally pulled back, chest rising and falling with each breath as he sat back on his heels between your thighs. His lips were kiss-bitten and swollen, and his hands were still resting against your sides like he didn’t want to let go.

His eyes raked over you, slow and heavy, reverent in a way that made your skin flush hotter than it already was.

“Can I take a photo?” he asked suddenly, voice low but steady. “Just for me. Just… I don’t ever wanna forget how you looked right now.”

You blinked up at him, surprised but not unsettled.

“Your face won’t be in it,” he added quickly, sensing your hesitation. “Promise. Just… from here down.” He gestured vaguely around your chin, then toward your waist. “You can see it after.”

You swallowed, heart thudding, then gave a small nod. “Okay. Yeah.”

His brows lifted slightly in soft surprise, then he reached for his phone with one hand, the other brushing your thigh in reassurance.

He angled the camera with careful precision, fingers steady, then snapped the photo in a single, deliberate motion.

“Here,” he said gently, turning the screen toward you.

Your chin was the only part of your face visible at the top of the frame, and the image cut off just above your belly button. But it didn’t need to show much more. The focus was clear. Dozens of red marks are scattered across your chest, each one placed with intention. Some were dark and already bruising purple at the edges; others were faint and pink, still blooming.

Your nipples glistened, damp from his mouth, the skin around them flushed and sensitive.

It was intimate. Beautiful in a way you hadn’t expected.

You stared for a moment, lips parted, then looked up at him.

“Keep it,” you whispered.

His thumb brushed over your knee as he saved the photo, then locked his phone and tossed it back to the nightstand without looking away from you.

“Thank you,” he said, and it wasn’t teasing. It was tender, almost awed. Like you’d just given him something sacred.

He leaned in slowly, like he didn’t want to startle you. Like your whole body hadn’t already been trembling under his touch for the past however-many minutes. His fingers slid beneath the band of your sleep shorts, thumbs brushing along your hips as he looked up, searching your eyes one last time for a nod.

You gave it.

He peeled them down with aching care, pulling both your shorts and underwear in one fluid motion. The fabric clung just slightly to your skin, and when it came off completely, he stilled.

“Jesus,” Gideon breathed, voice low and reverent. His palms ran up your thighs, then paused to rest there. “You’re soaked.”

You flushed, lips parting as he just looked for a second, like he couldn’t decide where to put his mouth first.

Your arousal glistened, a clear sheen catching the light between your legs, and it took him a second to find words again.

“You’ve been like this the whole time?” he asked, the edge of wonder in his voice making your stomach tighten. He leaned closer, eyes still flicking between your thighs and your face. “Just from me kissing you?”

You nodded, breath catching. “You’re the one who said I was sensitive.”

He gave a crooked, boyish grin, but the heat in his gaze made it anything but innocent. “Didn’t realize I was this good at taking notes.”

Then he slid one hand down, slow and sure, fingers dragging through your slick like he had all night to learn you.

His fingers moved with a reverence that sent shivers skimming up your spine, parting you just enough to feel the way you pulsed around nothing.

"Fuck," Gideon whispered under his breath. He was transfixed. "You’re dripping."

Your hips tilted instinctively toward his touch, chasing the pressure, desperate for more. He caught it and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. Then another, higher up. His free hand gripped your hip gently, grounding you, as his mouth moved closer.

“You okay?” he asked again, voice softer now, eyes flicking up to yours even as his fingers brushed back down through your folds.

You nodded quickly, maybe too quickly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Not when he was teasing you like that, circling your entrance but never quite pushing in, skimming your clit with maddening lightness.

His breath fanned against you as he leaned in, lips brushing the slickest part of you in a single, warm pass that made your thighs twitch.

Your fingers gripped the sheets, back arching, a whimper rising from your throat before you could stop it.

“Thought so,” he murmured.

Then he buried his face between your thighs.

His tongue was just as thorough as his hands had been, broad strokes, then slow circles, then a gentle suck right where you needed it most. He listened, paid attention to the way your hips bucked, the little sounds you made, how your hand twisted in his curls.

And when he slid a single finger inside you, curling it just right, his name left your lips like a prayer.

You were unraveling, piece by piece, soaked and shaking beneath him. Every flick of his tongue, every press of his mouth, every slow push of his fingers only tightened the coil until it was impossible to ignore.

You were close and he knew it.

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” he asked, voice thick with want, his mouth glistening. “Let me have it.”

And you did. Back arching, thighs trembling, breath catching on a cry as the tension snapped all at once.

He didn’t stop until your hips fell back to the bed, until you were gasping, dazed, utterly spent.

Then he kissed the inside of your thigh again, slow and sweet, and whispered, “Still got more for you.”

Gideon lifted himself slowly, sliding between your legs with a deliberate, measured grace that made your breath hitch. The heat of him pressed flush against you, the weight of his body grounding but electrifying all at once.

His hands found your hips, gripping firmly, anchoring as he pushed in with slow, deep thrusts that stretched and filled you completely. You clenched around him, needy and raw, fingers digging into his shoulders as the pressure built.

A soft whine escaped your lips, vibrating straight into his neck as you pressed your face against his skin, breath mingling with the steady rhythm of his movements.

“Gideon,” you murmured, voice trembling with want, “please…”

He didn’t need to hear more. His thrusts deepened, faster now, pounding into you with a fierce, desperate hunger that matched your own. Your nails raked down his back, desperate to hold onto something real as your body tensed and melted with every stroke.

You were utterly exposed. You rubbed your hands over his back, down his arms, desperate to feel more of him, to keep him close even as your muscles clenched tight with the pull of pleasure.

Your whines grew louder, raw and unfiltered, as your body tightened around him, clinging, urging him on.

“I’m close,” you gasped, voice breaking, lips brushing the skin just below his ear.

He kissed that spot, biting gently before answering with a groan and thrusting harder, deeper, completely lost in the fire between you.

You cried out, trembling beneath him, the world narrowing to nothing but the heat of his body and the relentless pull of your shared need.

When you finally shattered, shaking and gasping, Gideon held you tight, driving through his own release with slow, grinding strokes that sent you spiraling even further.

You both collapsed into the tangled sheets, chests heaving, hearts pounding loud in the silence that followed.

His fingers traced lazy patterns over your skin, soft and soothing now, as he whispered, “You’re mine.”

And you believed him, wholeheartedly. You reached over with a shaky hand, grabbing the sheet. "This is a checklist now," you muttered.

"Works for me," he sighed happily.

[levisjinchuriki]

forever yours - chapter 4

summary: you and gojo take small steps towards mending your relationship

warning: mention of nanami, light fluff

word count: 2.7k

the decision to take things one step at a time is easier said than done, but you and satoru are determined to try. the days following your heartfelt conversation are filled with caution, a tentative dance as you both try to navigate the uncharted waters of rebuilding your relationship.

in addition to agreeing to take baby steps in the relationship, you also had a long discussion on ground rules, expectations and what you need from each other moving forward. you both agree to make an effort to communicate more openly, to share your thoughts and feelings without the defensiveness that had often characterized your conversations in the past. without that foundation, you’d struggle to build trust and grow together. 

your interactions are careful to start, as if both of you were afraid of shattering the fragile new beginning you were trying to build. there are times when the weight of your past feels overwhelming, threatening to pull you back into old patterns of distrust and frustration. but there are also moments where you manage to rediscover the familiarity of your bond. a shared smile or a laugh over a small joke speaks volumes—and these are the moments that remind you why you’re willing to try again, focusing on the steps you’re taking together rather than the distance still left to cover. it’s a process, one that needs time and patience. and you can tell gojo’s making an effort to show that he’s truly committed to changing his ways. 

it starts with small changes. when gojo calls to tell haru goodnight you spent a few extra minutes on the phone. texts become more frequent, too. not just about haru, but about your days, his work, and each other’s thoughts on the situation you’re experiencing together. it’s nice checking in with each other, sharing everything from minor frustrations to unexpected joys.

—

the sound of your phone ringing interrupts you as you’re feeding haru his lunch. you glance at the caller id and quickly swipe the screen, tucking the phone between your ear and shoulder.

“hey, kento,” you greet with a smile, dipping the spoon back into haru’s bowl before offering it to him.

“hey got any free time? i finished early today and thought i could stop by if that’s alright with you”. he’s always been a supportive figure, and his desire to spend time with haru spoke volumes about his affection for your son. 

“of course, haru would love to see you. what time were you thinking?” you ask. haru’s eye light up at the mention of his name. you mirror his expression as you feed him another serving. 

“i’m flexible, i could be there in about an hour or so,” he replies. the idea of seeing a familiar face is comforting—aside from gojo, it’s been just you and haru for a while.

“sounds good. i’ll make sure haru is ready for some quality time with his uncle,” you say warmly.

after ending the call, you finish feeding your son, noticing how his eyes begin to droop as the meal takes its toll. you put him down for a nap and within moments, he’s fast asleep. you take the time you have alone to tidy up the place.

as you move through the house, you take in the sight of the toys that are scattered across the floor. it’s a familiar mess, one that brings a smile to your face, but now is the opportunity you have to restore a bit of order. you begin picking up the toys, placing them neatly back in their designated spots, fluffing the pillows on the couch and tidying the kitchen. the space slowly transforms, becoming a calm and inviting home once more. 

as you finish up, you glance at the clock. kento should be here any minute. you make your way back to haru’s room, lifting him slowly to not wake him too abruptly. he stirs in your arms and you rub his back to greet him softly. he gets fussy, still groggy from his short nap. before you can calm him fully your doorbell rings. you look at haru with an excited expression. 

“guess who’s here to see you?” you ask him as you make your way to the front. you open the door with a welcoming smile and can sense the genuine happiness in kento’s eyes as he sees haru.

“someone just woke up, hm?” he hums softly rubbing haru’s head. the boy leans into his touch and his eyes light up as he sees his uncle smiling down at him. 

“nami!” haru exclaims, his little arms stretching as he reaches for kento, who gently takes him from you. haru is quick to bury his head into his neck, a high-pitched squeal of excitement escaping his lips as he wiggles in his uncle’s arms. his little hands clutch at kento’s shirt, holding on tight as if he’s afraid the moment might slip away.

“how’s my favorite nephew doing?” kento asks, his voice warm and affectionate. there’s a softness in his tone reserved only for haru, a tenderness that melts away the stoic exterior he often shows the world.

haru pulls back just enough to look up at his uncle, his eyes sparkling with joy. he’s filled with pure delight as he begins to babble, his words tumbling out in a rush of excitement. some of them don’t quite make sense, half-formed thoughts and phrases that only a child could string together with such enthusiasm. it’s nothing short of adorable as he trips over some words. he’s starting to put bigger sentences together and kento can hear the effort in each syllable. he hangs on to every word, his expression is soft and attentive, completely captivated by his nephew’s earnest attempt to communicate.

as you step back to let him inside, he gives you a kiss on the cheek and hands you a small bag. you know what’s inside already, he always brings over goodies for you both when he comes to visit. 

“we play with my blocks!” haru says excitedly, making his uncle chuckle. 

“okay, little one. let’s play”. nanami gently places haru down before sitting beside him. your heart swells with affection as you watch them together, the sight of your son and his uncle sharing such a special bond filling you with a deep sense of contentment.

haru is much smaller than his uncle, but that doesn’t stop him from tackling the playtime with boundless energy. despite the size difference, haru’s enthusiasm is contagious, and kento easily matches his excitement, encouraging him every step of the way.

as you stand there, watching the two of them together, you can’t help but feel grateful for moments like this. moments of pure, unfiltered joy that remind you of the love and warmth that surround you and your son. nanami’s presence is a comforting reminder of the support system you have around you, one that has always been there and will continue while you and satoru navigate this delicate period of rebuilding.

the visit is comforting, time filled with the kind of easy conversations and shared laughter that make it clear how much nanami cares for you both. the air is lighter, the tension from earlier days melting away under the warmth of familial affection. 

eventually, haru's energy slowly begins to wane. his once lively movements become slow, his eyelids growing heavy as he tries to stay awake just a little longer. but the comforting presence of his uncle proves too much for the little boy to resist.

haru lets out a tiny yawn, rubbing his eyes with his small fists. he waddles over to the armchair nanami is currently sitting in. without a word, he climbs into kento’s lap, seeking the familiar comfort he always finds with his uncle. kento smiles softly, wrapping his arms around the boy as he snuggles against him, head resting on his broad chest.

“tired, little one?” kento asks gently, his voice low and soothing.

haru nods, his eyes fluttering closed. he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper now as sleep overtakes him. kento adjusts his hold, cradling haru close to him as the boy’s breathing evens out, falling into the steady rhythm of sleep. 

kento glances up and meets your gaze, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “looks like playtime wore him out,” he says quietly, his voice filled with a quiet fondness.

you nod, returning his smile. “he loves spending time with you,” you whisper back, not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment. kento’s eyes soften further, a look of deep affection crossing his face as he gazes down at haru, his little face relaxed and serene.

he lets the lull of the moment sit for a while, just enjoying light conversation until it takes a turn. 

“how are you holding up?” he asks, his gaze filled with concern and genuine care. he noticed earlier that you aren’t wearing your ring anymore—something you had stubbornly refused to take off for the longest time, a symbol of your reluctance to fully confront the reality of your situation. 

you take a moment to gather your thoughts, the silence stretching as you consider how to respond. the question is loaded, and part of you feels the urge to be honest, to lay bare the complexities of your feelings. you hate keeping secrets, especially from your own family. but, another part of you hesitates, wanting this new path with gojo to remain private. everyone had seen just how much the separation affected you and you’re not ready for any external opinions or judgments that might complicate things further.

finally, you decide to share a version of the truth that protects your evolving situation while still acknowledging the difficulties you’re facing. “i’m... managing,” you choose your words carefully. your voice soft as you meet his eyes. “it’s been a lot lately, trying to balance everything and adjust to the changes. i’m trying to take things one day at a time”. 

kento listens attentively, his expression full of understanding and sympathy. “i can only imagine,” he says gently. “it’s a big change”, you nod in agreement. 

“you’ve always been strong. but, if you ever need someone to talk to, or just a break, i’m here for you.”. the sincerity in his voice is comforting and you offer him a grateful smile, appreciating his support, even if you aren’t ready to share everything just yet.

“thanks, ken” you say. softly. “i really appreciate it.”

later that evening, as nanami prepares to leave, he gives you a reassuring smile. “i’ll come by again soon. take care of yourself, okay?”

you nod, embracing him warmly at the door. “i will,” you promise, grateful for his presence. after thanking him again for coming, you watch him leave before gently shutting the door. with a tired sigh, you turn your attention to haru, more than ready to tuck him in and finally get some rest yourself.

—-

the next step in figuring out your relationship with gojo is spending more time together as a family. you decide to spend a relaxing afternoon together at the park. haru is happily running around, his laughter echoing as he plays on the swings gojo helps push him and climb across the jungle gym. Eeach shared moment, each smile and laugh, builds a sense of camaraderie and rekindles the familiar feeling of togetherness. for a moment, it felt like the old days—before everything had gotten so complicated.

as the day goes on, you find yourself relaxing more, letting go of some of the tension that had been weighing on you for months. satoru really does seem different—more attentive, more present. he isn’t distracted by his phone or the constant demands of his work. instead, he’s focused entirely on you and haru, and it makes a world of difference.

of course, haru requests ice cream after his day of fun. satoru agrees quickly, wanting to continue his day with you all together. 

insisting he’s a big boy, haru gets a mix of three different flavors, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he takes his first bite. you’re sure he’ll have a sugar rush and then crash hard tonight, but you allow it.

“thank you mommy and daddy!” he says as his cheeks are covered in chocolate and sprinkles.

you can’t help but laugh as you wipe his face, feeling a genuine happiness that had been missing for too long. satoru catches your eye across the table, and there was something in his gaze—something soft and hopeful—that made your heart skip a beat.

—-

just as you expected, haru had fallen asleep in the backseat of the car. the ride back with him and satoru is filled with quiet conversation and it feels nice to just have a peaceful moment with him. it’s comforting to see him so at ease as he drives you to your once shared home. but with that comfort comes an undercurrent of uncertainty, a reminder that things between you are still fragile, that one wrong step could shatter the tentative progress you’ve made.

you’re pulled from your thoughts as the car turns into your driveway. gojo shifts the car into park, and the silence between you stretches for a moment longer. you both look back at your son, who’s still sound asleep, his head resting against the side of his car seat. the sight of him like this, so peaceful and content, brings a soft smile to your face.

“i’ll carry him in,” gojo offers, his voice low and gentle, not wanting to disturb the tranquility of the moment.

the two of you move in sync, satoru carefully lifting haru from his seat while you grab his small backpack. as you unlock the front door and step inside, the familiar warmth of your home wraps around you like a comforting embrace.

he gently places haru in his bed, tucking him in and telling him how much he loves him even though he’s not awake to hear it. you linger in the doorway, a sense of nostalgia washing over you. this was once your normal—coming home after a day out, putting your son to bed together, sharing these quiet, intimate moments.

when satoru finally steps out of haru’s room, he closes the door softly behind him. you’re both left standing in the hallway, the weight of the day settling over you. 

“today was nice” he says after a moment, his voice is full of content. there’s a vulnerability in his tone that catches your attention, a sincerity that resonates with your own emotions. “it felt…normal. how things used to be” he adds.

you smile fondly, feeling the same way. “yeah, it did” you agree softly.

he searches your eyes, his own filled with such affection that it’s both reassuring and terrifying. there’s a depth to his gaze. 

“i know we’re taking things slow, but days like today… they give me hope”. he looks so much more at peace now that you both have shared the thoughts you’ve kept hidden from each other for so long. 

“me too” you whisper. it doesn’t feel real that this is your life again. although you both still had a lot to work on, today showed there is still the same amount of love between you that you’ve always had.

“one step at a time” he echoes, the phrase that’s become a sort of mantra for the two of you.

you nod, feeling the weight of those words and understanding just how important they are. for a moment, the silence between you is charged with unspoken words and lingering feelings. things are far from perfect, but it’s progress, and that’s all you can ask for right now.

“thank you,” satoru says suddenly, his voice earnest. “for today—for giving us this chance.”

his words take you by surprise, and you can feel your heart swell. 

“thank you for trying. i can see that you are and it means a lot” you reply softly. gojo’s eyes look over your features for another moment. his gaze is intense, but you don’t shy away from it. you feel the familiar pull between you, the one that had never really gone away.

there’s still so much to navigate, so much that could go wrong, but for now, you hold onto this moment, the progress you’ve made, and the possibility of what could be.

---

ch 5>

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[immobulusmalfoy]

I Wonder (Drabble) - Fred Weasley x F!Reader

A/N: I was in a writing rut and shared this list, so here's the second prompt I received! This was so easy to write and I giggled so much!

Warnings: Character burnout, AU where Voldemort doesn't come back, and supreme amounts of fluff near Christmas. Enjoy!

2 ⧽. falling asleep in their shoulder, making them blush and watch the other lovingly

Fred would say he didn’t have much. He had his twin, he had his family, he had his joke shop, and he had you. You being his best friend other than George.

You supported their dreams and helped design packaging for their products as well as making sure orders were shipped on time. While the boys were the front runners and makers of everything, you were the force behind it all and it made you so valuable. Alongside Lee, who always tested products. Fred had to mention him, too, or he’d never hear the end of it.

Fred didn’t know when he first started looking at you as a girl and not as his friend (though you were definitely still his best friend), but he started wanting more and didn’t know how to tell you. He may have been the more outgoing twin, but even he has his limits.

George finally forced him to decide to tell you right before Christmas break of your sixth year all together, making bets with Lee on your reaction. George was sure you were in love with Fred too, while Lee was convinced that you were in love with a Hufflepuff boy instead because he’d seen you talking exactly two times. A fact that made both Fred and George roll their eyes.

Christmas break rolled around and you came home with the Weasleys since your parents were visiting family in the States, a journey you hadn’t wanted to make. But breaks meant long hours working on product testing, package design, potion making, charm testing, etc. From sunup to sundown and sometimes sundown to sunup, you three were working hard. Molly had to force you all down for meals and drag you to the gardens for small bouts of fresh air when she could. However, it was all catching up to you as young as you all were, and you three sat blearily on the couch on Christmas Eve, barely awake as Molly passed out lumpy packages to each family member.

Every year, Molly knitted each one of her family members, both biological and adopted, something. Usually it was a sweater, but sometimes it was something else she felt the person needed. Last year, you’d gotten a really pretty maroon sweater with golden stars stitched across the front and you were excited to see this year’s design, even if you could hardly stay awake.

George opened his first and snorted when he saw the lime green sweater Molly had made him with an orange ‘G’ stitched to the front. Fred guffawed and opened his to find the opposite color scheme, an orange sweater with a lime green ‘F’ stitched to it. At his urging, you opened yours and found a dark green sweater with a niffler knitted into the design.

“For all your hidden talents, dear.” Molly explained when you showed it off with a smile. “Besides, I know you like the little beasts.”

Mugs of hot chocolate were passed around while everyone chatted about the rest of the break and what each of you had planned, but it wasn’t enough to keep you awake. Fred was in the middle of a chat with his dad and Remus, who had also come to visit with Tonks, when he felt a weight on his shoulder. He looked down to find you had fallen asleep, your mug tipping out of your hand and your mouth slightly open.

Fred smiled down at you fondly, deftly removing the mug from your hands before you could drop it, and adjusting your sleeping body so you could lay more comfortably on his lap instead of his bony shoulder. It wasn’t the first time you’d fallen asleep on him and he knew it wouldn’t be the last either, but it didn’t bother him a bit. He returned to his conversation without a hitch as he stroked your hair, causing Remus and Arthur to exchange knowing glances. It was obvious to everyone that you and Fred were meant to be and Fred knew what they were thinking, his cheeks heating in response. He wasn’t embarrassed, but he wasn’t sure he liked how easily everyone could read his emotions.

Hours passed, everyone else filtered off to bed or their respective homes, and even Molly had conceded to letting you both sleep on the couch so long as Fred didn’t look when she set up the last Christmas presents under the tree. You were still asleep, so Fred agreed and allowed his mum to do her work before she placed a glamour charm over the tree and all of the items beneath it. She wished him good night, setting a final warning about peeking in the presents before she scampered off to bed herself, leaving the both of you alone for the first time the whole break.

Fred stared down at your sleeping form lovingly, thinking about the future and how he wanted to sleep next to you every night, but still freaking out about telling you how he felt. Because honestly, did you feel the same? Was he going to ruin everything? If you felt awkward after he told you, would you leave them high and dry? He was lost in his thoughts when you woke up, dazed and confused about where you were.

��Fred?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes to wipe the sleep away. “Why are we still on the couch?”

“You fell asleep on me and I didn’t want to move you or wake you up. You looked peaceful.” Fred answered, fingers still running over your hair.

You glanced over his shoulder to the clock beside Molly’s charmed grandfather clock to check the time and realized it was past midnight.

“Happy Christmas, Freddie.” you whispered, and then you did something you’d never done before. You leaned up and kissed him right on the mouth, softly and slowly, with purpose. Fred froze initially, not processing what was happening, but his brain finally caught up with his mouth and he kissed you back, bringing his hand to the back of your head to hold you up to him.

“Long time coming, that.” Fred grinned when you broke the kiss for air. “Happy Christmas, darling.”

Maybe he didn’t have anything to worry about or over think after all.

[doumadono]

hey, this kind of an emergency request, I’m so sorry if it’s too much to ask and if you do end up writing this then thank you so much haha but could you please write Kirishima comforting insecure reader who’s anorexic? ive been struggling and everytime I think I’m doing well my eating just gets worse lmao, he’s my comfort character and it would genuinely mean sososo much

A little bite - Kirishima x Reader

EMERGENCY REQS - PART 2

You sat on your bed, staring at the untouched plate of food in front of you. It felt like an insurmountable challenge, the idea of eating itself. Every bite seemed to weigh heavily, not just on your stomach, but on your mind. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled with the familiar battle inside your head.

A soft knock on the door broke through your thoughts. "Hey, it's me," Kirishima's voice came from the other side, gentle and full of concern. "Can I come in?"

You wiped your eyes quickly, trying to compose yourself. "Yeah, come in."

Kirishima stepped into the room, his usual vibrant energy subdued as he saw the state you were in. He moved to sit beside you on the bed, his presence warm and reassuring. "I noticed you didn't come down for dinner," he said softly, his red eyes full of worry. "And, well, I brought you something."

You glanced at the plate he had brought, filled with nigiri and some mochi, your stomach twisting with anxiety. "I'm sorry, Eijiro," you whispered, tears threatening to spill again. "I just… I can't."

He placed the plate on your bedside table and turned to face you, his expression serious yet kind. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to apologize," he said, taking your hand in his. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

The sincerity in his voice broke down the walls you had been trying to keep up. "I'm trying," you choked out, tears finally streaming down your cheeks. "But every time I think I'm doing better, it just gets worse. I feel like I'm failing."

Kirishima wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, his touch gentle yet firm, grounding you. "You're not failing," he murmured into your hair. "You're fighting a really tough battle, and just getting through each day is a victory."

You leaned into him, feeling his strength and warmth. "I don't know how to keep going," you admitted, your voice small and fragile.

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with determination. "You don't have to do it alone. I'm here for you. We can take it one meal at a time! And if you stumble, it's okay. I'm here to catch you."

You nodded, feeling a small spark of hope. "Thank you, Kiri. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He smiled, that familiar, encouraging smile that always made you feel a little bit braver. "You don't have to thank me. I care about you, and I want to see you happy and healthy." Kirishima reached for the plate of food and handed it to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "How about we start small? Just a few bites. We'll go slow, no pressure."

With his support, the meal seemed a little less daunting. You took the plate, your hands still trembling. You took a deep breath and picked up the little onigiri, determined to take that first step.

As you took your first bite, you felt a glimmer of hope - you felt like everything would be okay.

"See? One bite at a time," he said softly, his smile full of pride and encouragement. "You're doing great. I'm so proud of you, Y/N."

And in that moment, you believed him.

[snugglesquiggle]

thinking about killer x victim yuri again

(specifically, this was originally a followup to this post, but i spend so long in the lead up that it's pretty much its own thing)

imagine they went to school together.

one was a rich girl, with so many friends and connections and opportunities. she knew exactly the right words to charm all the people in her life, and she works hard for their approval - everyone has high expectations from her. she has perfect grades and attendance, membership in four different after school clubs, and the worst the rumor meal can say about her is wondering when the hell she sleeps - because of course, she studies gossip and popularity like it's a class its own.

the other girl... was not. the poverty line was the roof over her head. she had attention problems, trouble fitting in, and a keen sense of how much she was looked down on, ignored, routinely denied. and she hated it. she'd raise her voice, she'd lash out, she'd cause any amount of trouble if it meant they'd shut up and get out of her way. behavioral anger issues, they called it. her academic record is littered with suspensions, expulsions, a brief stint in a correctional facility. all throughout, though, she had potential, and a couple teachers even saw it. sparks of something more than a hopeless delinquent.

so here and there, there's extra chances, leniency, several half-pleading half-condescending talking-tos imploring her to change. and... eventually she does. maybe the fight gets beaten down, maybe the prefrontal cortex develops, but the rage becomes restraint, all her old impulses rerouted behind a mask. so she gets transferred to a new campus, a kind of sponsorship with a special arrangement; it's hers as long as she keeps her behavior and and grades on the up and up.

maybe she tries to stay quiet about her past, but the other students quickly notice how she regularly meets with a counselors and officers. maybe one girl had been in a previous school she'd gotten kicked out of, back before she'd gotten her act together. it starts as a small rumor, but it sticks and grows into a suffocating cloud that hangs around her. that girl is trouble; nobody wants to associate with her.

the isolation, the whispers whenever she steps into a room, it puts a hitch in her efforts. her detractors get bolder; her treatment verges on harassment. it might be the most infuriating thing she'd endured in her life - she'd done everything right. her grades start to tank, that goes without saying. she needs help, she needs support. is there anyone she can study with?

she feels contempt and revulsion - and it's mutual - for everyone she shares classes with. even the ones not sneaking sneering glances and muttered words, were doing even worse than her academically; pathetic and not worth her time.

but there was one exception. one girl who was the top of every class, of whom no one, not even the the most cynical of them all, had a negative word to say. she was always kind, always thoughtful, and the outcast had never seen that girl be complicit in her treatment, even when all her friends joined in. if anyone might be willing to study with her, that girl seemed like her only hope.

(and she was, undeniably, pretty cute)

it takes a while to work up the courage and find an actual opportunity - the top student had a busy schedule. but the outcast finally gets her alone, asks her for help studying.

but again, the top student has a busy schedule. is she expected to find even more time to spend with this failing student? still, she's always kind, so she finds the words to gently refuse her. too gentle - the excuses, the seeming reluctance, it gives the impression that the answer isn't no, it's maybe, just not right now. so perhaps if the outcasts insists, if she argues against the excuses, then the other girl would be willing. they circle around each other like this for a bit, polite refusal and insistent rebuttal. couldn't she take a hint?

she's busy. all of the work she does for school and extracurriculars, all of the people she has to micromanage and keep happy - she simply does not have time to deal with this girl on top of that. and yet, it's more than just studying the outcast is really after. it's a lifeline, a person who doesn't hate them for no reason. she needs that. neither of them can say aloud what's really motivating them, though.

does the outcast need to study with the top student, though? surely there are remedial classes to take. and the outcast bristles at the suggestion. she isn't stupid. none of the people in those classes would be worth her time. really, none of the people in this school are worth her time, except you.

and that is what makes the top student bristle. all of the work she does day after day, and it's what, the bare minimum to make her worth the time of this nobody? who does she think she is?

honestly, with how hard this girl pushes herself, it's a wonder the top student didn't snap sooner. and if there was ever a perfect time to lose control, chewing out a girl with no friends while the two of them are alone was it.

the outcast is seething - but she had long learned to hold hat in. take a deep breath, remove yourself from the situation - she storms out of the room, runs back to her dorm, and smashes her desk. that should have been the end of it. she takes a shower to relax, but even as she lay under the water, the conversation's stuck in her head, all the things she said, all the things she could have said.

and again: when she's lying in bed, trying to sleep, she's instead thinking about her, and how infuriating that argument was. if she had the time to compose all her words perfectly, how satisfying would it be to tear apart everything she said?

the top student is thinking about that encounter too, but her ruminations are different. she's stuck thinking about how great it felt. all of the expectations, all of the rules, but just once, she could say fuck it, let loose and hurt someone. she... she needed that.

so days later, when they cross paths again, when they stop and stare at each other - the top student doesn't apologize. she should, she didn't really mean it, she really shouldn't talk to anyone like that - but instead when she opens her mouth, she twists the knife, doubles down, and watches how red in the face the other girl gets, holds back a laugh at the sputtered response.

the top student doesn't have time for more studying, but she does have time for more of this - hunting through the halls to find that girl, and tormenting her with quick insults and insinuations. it should have gotten old, she should have gotten bored of it - but it only escalated. the outcast didn't just take it, and she didn't run away, she met every barb with invective of her own. soon they're screaming and hissing in each other's face.

whatever argument they had should have ran its course after the first meeting or two. instead, it develops into a kind of violent smalltalk. they'll talk about their days, and the other will berate them for it. the top student vents about her latest frustrations, and the outcast exclaims how much she doesn't care about how hard her perfect life is. every hardship is promptly cheered or demeaned.

it's a few sessions of this before the outcast grabs her. she's bigger, stronger, she's been in fights. the top student becomes suddenly aware that she's shorter - that none of her extracurriculars were athletic.

the spell lasts a second - then, with sudden realization of what she was doing, the outcast lets go of her and runs off. she doesn't leave her room the next day; she's sure that the other girl is going to report her, her streak of compliant behavior was over, and they'd take her back to correction

and... it doesn't happen. she still has to go to class, and when she does, she crosses paths with her at their usual spot. and the shorter girl snarks at her without missing a beat, as if nothing had happened. if anything, she's more brazen, as if daring her to do it again. she's the first to lean into the other girl's face, closer than they'd ever gotten in their shouting matches.

it's too close, and the outcast pushes her back. and she just laughs, and steps right back. shoved back, again. and she steps back again. that's when she's grabbed, a bruising grip, and forced back. don't make me do this, the outcast says, leaving again - hearing taunts behind her.

again, no reports. they meet again, and the girl flinches but never cries foul. sometimes she tries to yank her hands free, step back from the girl looming over her, but if the outcast tries, it's not hard to pin her down and shut her up with a hand over her mouth.

she can't deny that it feels great. so long bottling everything up - and now she can exert power without fearing a reprisal.

their meetings tend to end the same way, now - the top student tries, but this is one area where she can never seem to excel. she throws the first punch, but the outcast hits harder. and once they're outright fighting... the outcast pulls her hair, bites her arms, strangles her till she's blue in the face. the outcast is sure she's pushed to far then. but the top student just wears a scarf to hide the mark.

still, that's what spooks her into pulling back. if it goes much farther, the evidence is going to become unignorable. avoiding the top student... isn't very successful. she lays in ambush in the halls, and even when the outcast steps up her stealth, she can just get other students to report on her whereabouts; she still has friends everywhere. the outcast can't escape her - and it's driving her past her limit. so she decides to escalate farther, finally scare the other girl into stopping.

the next time they fight, the outcast brings something new. unseen until she reaches for the other girl's throat, and her perfect skin splits open - a knife. she lifts the blade and a droplet of blood slides along its length.

pretty, isn't it? prettier than you are. you'd be so much more beautiful if i let it all flow out. the outcast gives her best impression of a unhinged smile. she has to make herself look dangerous. she licks the bloody drop, and then lowers the knife, watching how the wide eyes of the top student follow it intently.

she's utterly silent - few things have shut her up as effectively, her body trembling under the outcast's weight.

i'll give you a chance to start running, she says as she gets off her. but the top student doesn't get up till she gets a kick to the side. she runs off, and when she's gone, the outcast breathes a sigh of relief. she really hope that sends the message, and this wouldn't have to go any farther

because she enjoyed that. she wants to go farther.

the next day, the top student looks sleepless and shaken. it's enough to have multiple people asking her what's wrong. but she still keeps quiet.

the outcast waits in the usual spot, and it seems her first stroke of luck that the other girl doesn't show up. had her intimidation worked?

but no, she's just late, like she was late to class.

i-i... she starts, and finally overcomes the stutter: i need you to do it.

what?

the knife. use it, please. i - all day, ever since you drew my blood, i can't think about anything else. all my life, it's been constant expectations and demands, try harder, push farther, please everyone. every hour of the day, it feels like a chorus ordering me around. i have to do everything right - except you. because you... you're nothing, you don't matter. i could do anything, i could do all the wrong things, it was... it wasn't good - obviously, you were there. but in spite of you, i enjoyed this. and then... and then you brought a knife, and- it felt like all of a sudden, the chorus went dead silent. all of the anxiety, everything it felt like i had to do, it meant nothing. you were going to kill me. i couldn't focus on anything else. even after i ran away, i kept thinking about you, about that knife, and... how can i care about school, or practice, or who's dating who when... i finally know what i feels like to be alive. and i, need to feel it again. so you're going to do it again.

you want me to stab you... because you're into it? no. even if i was a prostitute, i wouldn't get you off for free.

ugh, but i knew you'd be difficult. you're so stupid - don't you get that you are the one at my mercy here? the second i tell anyone about what you've done... it's over. i have photos, recordings, i have bruises! you're a monster, i can prove it, and i'm going to get you taken away - there's only one way to keep me quiet.

and if i call your bluff?

can you afford to risk it?

fine. but tell me: how long?

how long?

how long have you been getting off to this? how long have you been in love with me?

i'm not - i hate you! you're insufferable. love? was it love when you punched me so hard i spat up blood?

we meet every day in private to lay on top of each other. i can't believe i didn't see it sooner.

don't gloss over the part where you scream and hit me - that isn't romance. maybe i felt something else, maybe i wanted, desperately, to feel something else, but every time, before i could say anything you ran your mouth and stomped all over it. no wonder you're alone.

shut up. by now, the outcast was looming over her - she had the knife out, and thrust it up. cold against an artery, but that was it. she says, is this enough for you?

even you must be smart enough to know how to use that thing. what are you waiting for?

even a bitch like you deserves to live - you said this made you feel alive. well? has this done it for you?

have you ever tried to die? sometimes, when you're staring down the end, you get a surge of energy, a survival instinct, the will to live. but. that's just stupid animal instinct. because intellectually, what is there to live for? more work? remember what you said, yesterday? how pretty my blood was? but it's only pretty outside of my body. i think, life is the same way. it's most beautiful when it's like a flash of lightning in a dark, dark sky. screaming loud one moment, then nothing left but an afterimage. and don't i have a spark?

there's a last glint of light on the blade of the knife before it's all in the shadow of her neck. she's crying out, but then the other girl's hands jammed in her mouth quiets that.

is this really it? everyone said you had so much potential, that you were destined for such great things. and here you are, giving up the first chance you get, throwing it all away for a brief thrill. you could be anything, but in the end, all you want is to be a pretty red stain.

there's tears in the smaller girl's eyes, staring up at the scowl of the outcast. the knife is pulled away, the perfect skin of her throat yet unslit, a steady knife-gripping hand lowering.

then the outcast says, but you asked for this. at least it's going to hurt. you deserve this.

wait, says the top student, before you do it - i've never kissed anyone. i don't want to die like that.

i don't care-

but she had to open her mouth in order to say that, and the other girl lunges forward to take advantage, lips brushing against lips, but it's far too haphazard an action to form a seal.

that same lunge drives the knife shallowly into her chest. she cries out from the pain. not loud, but any louder and they'd attract attention.

shut up, she hisses. she needs her to be quiet, so she makes her quiet: closing her mouth around the other's girls, swallowing her screams as she drives the knife deeper in.

she's couldn't have used her hands for this; one is holding the knife, the other trapping writhing arms behind the other girl's back.

it's a scream, it's a moan, it's pleading words babbling demands. it's an expression of everything she feels for the outcast: raw and painful and all-consuming contradiction.

it's intense. the most intense thing she's ever felt. all of the anxiety's gone now, pain purifying her thoughts of anything else. all of the stress flows out of her with the blood.

she is penetrated, a knife in her breast, a tongue in her mouth. she can't bite down on it, because her tongue has been pulled forth, held in the other girls teeth - she'd be biting the both of them. she can only let the other girl enter and fill her on two levels - three, if you count the way thoughts of the other girl had distracted and obsessed a mind once so focused on her schoolwork, now corrupted into chasing the high of her loathsome presence.

her panicked eyes are wide open, watching her killer watch her die. as she drains away, she cant escape the question. is this what she wanted? to be nothing but a pretty stain for her? that bitch? did she want her to win?

she runs out of air to scream. she has to suck in what breath she can get through her nose, but before the screams come, she giggles. she remembers something the outcast said, back when the worst they did was wrestle.

don't make me do this.

she had made her do this, hadn't she?

so if anyone was winning here, it was her. and her prize was-

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

For You - A Pedrotober Drabble

Day Thirty-One of Pedrotober: SAG Awards Pedrotober Hosted by @norththelemon and @alyssamariag. View the full prompt list HERE and view my entire Pedrotober drabble catalog HERE.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Rating: Y'all got your spice it's time for fluff. No warnings.

Word Count: 924

a/n: 37,566 words later, here we are. I simply cannot believe how quickly this month has gone, the same way I cannot express how thankful I am for this challenge, for the people it has brought into my life over the past thirteen months, and for the opportunity to explore it in my own way. Pedrotober has, above all else, proven to me that I'm capable of this. Of writing. Of balancing everything so precariously and working tirelessly to do the things I love for the people I love. You know exactly who you are, and this is for you.

He's never been prouder than in this moment.

Applause echoes through the room, following his steady lead, and he's standing to press a kiss to your cheek before you slip from his grasp. Lights are flashing, surely no brighter than the smile illuminating your face as you walk past the photographers and to the center stage. Someone claps him on the back, but his eyes are locked on you.

Frankie had seen every moment that led to this one. The early mornings, when he'd bring your coffee to your desk and ensure that you ate something for breakfast. The long days spent cramming in the tasks required for your job, just so you'd have time in the evening to work. The missed meals and the sleepless nights, the aching shoulders and the endless pacing down the hallway as you tried to pinpoint the smallest of details until it was perfect.

You make it up the steps without tripping in your heels the way you feared you might, even with a bit of tequila in you. There's someone waiting for you at the top with a trophy that is probably far heavier than it looks, and you accept it with a grin, a deep breath, and a glance back at him.

"Wow," you begin breathlessly as the crowd dies down, settling back in their seats. "Wow, I don't even know where to begin because I absolutely did not expect this."

He listens. Hangs on every word of your speech because he knows you're telling the truth. That you didn't expect this. That you'd simply been honored to be nominated for your work and to be here despite all the negativity swirling in your mind. The thoughts he's had to dispel from your consciousness with careful dedication and love until you're finally convinced that what you do matters.

The audience laughs lightly when you take a moment to pause and simply look at the trophy in your hands. "I'm sorry, I just never thought I'd be here, so I've completely neglected to make a list of who to thank, but I wouldn't be here without my incredible family and my astonishingly supportive friends who get me through each and every day. And, most importantly," you continue, finding him again in the crowd, "I'd like to thank my husband, Frankie. I wouldn't be able to do life without you, and this? This is for you."

You feel the emotion well in your chest when he winks at you, a quiet reassurance that he's with you now the way he has been all along. The reminder of the final words of your speech, the ones that you've held in your heart through every painstaking moment coming to life on your lips.

"And before I leave, I just want to add that to anyone out there feeling defeated, to every 'other.' You are my family and I love you. Keep going. Keep waking up every day and doing what feels right. This is proof that you can get there. That you will get there. Thank you."

The overwhelming sound of the crowd follows you off the stage, but it's not long before you're tucked back in Frankie's waiting arms. He meets you in the hallway before you can even make it back to your seat, tugging you against him and swinging you gently back and forth as the statue in your hand rests against his back. "I'm so incredibly proud of you," he whispers against your ear.

"Thank you." You shift to look up at him, one hand running along his forehead to push back a stray curl that's fallen out of place. "I meant what I said."

He shakes his head. "No, Carino. This is yours. You're the one who put in the work and made this happen. Not me. You."

The kiss you place on his lips is soft, and you stand on your toes to press just a bit closer. "I couldn't have done any of this without you, Frankie," you tell him when you pull back, your lips resting just a breath apart. "Do you realize that? There wouldn't have been a project to work on if you hadn't encouraged me. If you hadn't challenged me to dedicate myself to my dreams." He's staring at you, wide-eyed and mouth slightly parted, but you continue. "I wouldn't have been able to survive while working on this without you being there every moment of the day, making sure I stayed sane even when I felt like throwing something at the wall and calling it quits."

A laugh rumbles in his chest. "I would've just fixed the wall."

"Yeah," you breathe out. "You would've. So yes, Frankie. This is for you." To make your point, you hold the statue between you, holding it out for him to take. When he hesitates, you reach for his hands, wrapping his fingers around it until yours are closed over his. "Thank you for being there for me every step of the way. For encouraging me to keep going. For loving me and letting me love you in return."

He's speechless, words inadequate to express the way his emotions are rolling through him in a neverending tsunami, so he kisses you instead.

And later, when the ceremony is over and your colleagues wait to congratulate you, you can't help but feel the same kind of love wash over you. Pounding in your chest when you overhear him telling someone that he'd pick you every time anyway.

Because you'd pick him, too. Always.

[twistedcrumbs2]

Under the same sky

Once upon a time, there was a foolish boy who fell in love with a girl. A girl who had everything—beauty inside and out, intelligence, and great wealth... everything. Things couldn’t have gone more wrong from there.

In a world where alliances are forged through conventions and obligations, the unexpected meeting between a merfolk and a beastman defies prejudice, duty, and the pursuit of freedom. Beneath the opulent glow of chandeliers and the watchful eyes of the elite, a quiet bond begins to blossom, uncovering desires they never imagined feeling—desires impossible to conceal.

Yet in an environment where every move is scrutinized, can they break free from the chains of destiny before time runs out?

Ruggie Bucchi x reader 🍩

Chapter, 1

Gray Sky, Blue Sky

The sun had barely begun to rise, yet Afterglow Savannah was already awake. The scent of hot sand, dust, and smoke filled the narrow streets, creeping into the stacked homes that seemed to lean on each other for support.

Mornings started early in these parts, especially for those in the poorest neighborhoods. The sun had a habit of being more than punctual, blessing the land with its almost oppressive heat. But even before its light could break through the horizon, Ruggie was already up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he straightened the thin sheets on his worn mattress. The tiny room held only his essentials - a meager collection of belongings. Above him, a single bulb dangled from an improvised wire, flickering faintly as though nearing the end of its life.

─ Good morning, Granny. What’s for breakfast? ─ Ruggie appeared behind the elderly woman, placing his hands gently on her frail shoulders and peering hungrily at the day’s offering.

In the cramped kitchen, his grandmother stirred a pot of porridge on an old, rusted stove - clean, despite its worn appearance. She ate slowly, savoring the last bit of stale bread Ruggie had brought home the day before, washing it down with a small cup of black coffee.

She turned to him with a smile, her wrinkled face a map of stories and struggles long past. Swatting him lightly on the head with the handle of her spoon for peeking at the pot, she sent him off to get ready.

Laughing, the young hyena dashed to the outdoor sink to wash his face. His grandmother watched him with a mixture of pride and weariness, her smile radiant despite the lines that etched her face.

─ You look sharp today, ─ she remarked with a note of approval as Ruggie fussed with his blond hair in a cracked mirror hanging on the wall.

─ Aw, Granny, don’t start. ─ Ruggie smirked, gesturing at his freshly ironed white shirt. ─ It’s just another job... but this one’s special! I’ll be working at that fancy hotel for the whole month, helping in the kitchen. It’s some big-shot wedding. They’re paying by the hour, and I get three meals a day. ─ His grin widened. ─ You know what that means, right? More food for you and the kids.

She chuckled softly, giving him an affectionate pat on the back as she handed him a glass bowl for breakfast. It was the third time she’d heard him repeat the news since last night, but she didn’t mind.

Ruggie filled his bowl with porridge, reheated leftover meat, and a bitter black coffee to wake himself up properly. He ate without complaint, each bite a reminder of the work still ahead. His grandmother had done so much for them; it was his turn to repay her sacrifices.

Before leaving, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, right between her round, faded ears that matched his own. Slinging a secondhand backpack over his shoulder - earned from cleaning a classmate’s dorm - he took one last glance at the house. A patched-up shack with gaps in the walls that let in the wind and cold. He knew every crack, every crevice. Someday, he promised himself, he’d leave it behind for good.

Outside, the streets were a messy blend of dust and mud from open sewage lines.

The narrow alleys wove between makeshift homes, their walls of clay and uneven stones topped with rusted sheets of metal. The homes crowded together like desperate neighbors clinging to one another for stability, forming a labyrinth of chaos and resilience.

Later in the day, barefoot children would race through the streets, chasing patched-up balls, while street vendors set up stalls to sell dried fruits, vibrant fabrics, and handmade crafts. Afterglow Savannah thrummed with a unique energy, a blend of disorder and determination that reflected the ingenuity of its people, even in its most neglected corners.

For now, the streets slowly came to life. Men crept back into bed after hoering before their wives noticed their absence, and women who worked the night retreated to their homes for rest.

Here and there, groups of hyenas patrolled the alleys, their radios crackling as they kept watch over the community. The kingdom struggled to control the illegal activities that flourished in these distant settlements, separated from the capital by both geography and indifference. The strong ruled, their dominance unchallenged by the authorities.

Still, since Prince Farena had taken the throne, the government’s approach had shifted. His policies encouraged grassroots organization, though whether this was a blessing or a curse was debatable. Capital interference often escalated violence, yet the prince’s efforts - minimal as they were - offered a glimmer of hope. Schools with basic meals and literacy programs marked a small but significant improvement over the neglect of past regimes.

Ruggie, however, remained skeptical. Migraine as they were, they were still crumbs.

At the bus stop, waiting for the first ride of the day, Ruggie waved to an old childhood friend who’d survived the streets. They had once stolen overripe fruits together, running through adult shadows with childish defiance. Now, his friend carried a weapon.

Ruggie knew what it was to have nothing. Afterglow Savannah taught its lessons harshly: what hunger felt like, what exhaustion did to the body, and what despair did to the soul. He had learned that survival often came at the cost of innocence.

But he had also learned balance. His small thefts were calculated acts of survival, and though he justified them, he understood the line between necessity and greed. Walking that line was a skill, one he was determined not to lose.

As the bus approached, Ruggie climbed aboard, blending into the crowd of tired workers. He straightened his clean, pressed shirt with quiet pride. His dreams were big, but he knew they would take countless long days like this to achieve.

And so, with resolve in his heart, he set off toward the luxurious hotel where he would work that summer - a world away from Afterglow Savannah, yet closer than he dared to believe.

⚘

Many miles away, in an expansive mansion nestled deep in the heart of the savanna within an affluent estate, the sun rose slowly, painting the sky in golden hues that starkly contrasted with the cold, polished opulence surrounding it.

Standing at the window of her bedroom, a young woman, draped in a silk robe, gazed at the distant horizon. Despite the grandeur that enveloped her, her eyes betrayed an almost painful yearning, as if the vast world beyond those walls were a distant promise.

Her bedroom was a gilded cage: a canopy bed dressed in pristine silk sheets, wardrobes overflowing with handpicked designer clothing, and bookshelves lined with volumes she was rarely allowed to open.

The silence was suffocating, her constant companion, broken only by the occasional sound of the wind stirring the curtains. Every detail of the mansion, from the polished floors to the gleaming chandeliers, served as a relentless reminder of what was expected of her: perfection, obedience, and quiet submission.

The door swung open abruptly, without so much as a knock, revealing her grandmother. The elderly woman, always impeccably dressed in conservative attire, carried herself with the rigid posture of someone accustomed to commanding respect. Her sharp eyes held an air of severity, but buried deep within them lay a hint of melancholy.

─ You’re awake. ─ Her voice was low and authoritative, leaving no room for defiance. ─ Your father wants to see you in the parlor in an hour. Get ready.

The young woman nodded silently, as she always did. Protesting was never an option.

At the breakfast table, the atmosphere was as cold as the marble that adorned the walls. Her father, a man of imposing presence and carefully measured words, read through business reports, deliberately ignoring his daughter’s presence. She sat motionless, waiting for the inevitable commands.

─ The wedding is confirmed for the end of this month, ─ he said at last, his eyes never leaving the papers in his hands. ─ Tonight’s dinner will be the first official event. I expect you to conduct yourself appropriately.

─ Yes, Father, ─ she murmured, forcing a hollow smile as the weight of yet another invisible chain tightened around her.

After breakfast, she escaped to the garden - the only place where she could breathe freely. Sitting by the edge of the fountain, she trailed her fingers in the cool, crystalline water, her skin accustomed to the warmth of the dry, arid climate. Surrounded by meticulously maintained flowers and trees, each planted with deliberate care, she allowed herself to dream.

In her mind, she wandered to far-off places, imagining a life filled with discovery and purpose - something beyond the stifling silence of her current existence. But her dreams were fragile, always crushed under the weight of reality.

Her grandmother found her there, as she often did in the mornings, her footsteps firm and her gaze sharp. Approaching, she noticed the tension in her granddaughter’s shoulders and let out a heavy sigh before sitting beside her.

─ You look tired, dear, ─ she said, her tone softer than usual. ─ Today is an important day. You must remember to keep your head high.

The young woman mustered another strained smile, saying nothing. Her grandmother’s words always carried the weight of a warning - a reminder that any sign of hesitation would be seen as weakness.

The older woman studied her granddaughter’s face in silence for a moment before continuing.

─ Dreaming isn’t a sin, child, but don’t forget where you came from or what truly matters. Your mother dreamed too, you know… and look where it got her.

The words, though delivered with a veneer of gentleness, struck like a blow. The young woman lowered her gaze, her eyes stinging with tears she dared not shed.

─ Look at me, ─ her grandmother insisted, offering a solemn smile. ─ I’m old, yet I’m fortunate your father tolerates me in this house. He is a generous man, and we should be grateful. Your life will be extraordinary when all of this is over. Just trust him. He knows what’s best for you.

She nodded mechanically, swallowing her pain and mimicking her grandmother’s practiced smile. She wanted to believe those words, but deep down, she knew the truth: her dreams, no matter how suppressed, continued to churn restlessly within her, impossible to extinguish.

The sun climbed higher, casting long shadows across the garden, while the young woman’s heart remained caught between submission and an ever-growing desire to break free from the destiny imposed upon her.

⚘

They were two worlds, so vastly different yet equally unrelenting, separated by an abyss of inequality and expectations.

They moved in opposite directions, like tides that should never converge. But fate, ever defiant in its unpredictability, was preparing the moment when these two opposing paths would collide - for better or for worse.

I’ve always loved those dramatic concepts of forbidden romance or arranged relationships where, in the end, the characters inevitably fall in love, and everything wraps up beautifully and happily. The last time I rewatched Titanic, I couldn’t help but imagine a premise inspired by it. While the story takes a bit of inspiration, I promise it goes in a completely different direction (or at least as far as I can manage to control it). The original plan was to post everything once I’d finished the entire story, but I couldn’t hold back—I’m already dropping the first chapter. My biggest weakness is posting things before they’re fully done and then losing steam partway through, but I’m hoping that doesn’t happen this time! If all goes according to plan, I should finish writing by the end of the weekend. I might have gotten a little too excited about this one. I’ve always wanted to try a fanfic that dives into aspects of Ruggie’s life outside of NRC. It’s a tough task, though, since we don’t have much to go on—no interactions with his grandmother, no real details about where he lives. There’s only that one panel from the manga’s Book 3 (at least so far, as far as I know), but even that gives us a hint as to why there’s so little material to work with. Let’s face it, Disney would probably never go deeper into it because the reality might be a bit too raw. I’ll admit, it’s been challenging to write a cute, romantic fanfic centered around Ruggie’s life outside of school while trying to add more layers to his character without breaking the tone or straying too far from something the remember canon Ruggie. But honestly? It’s been a really fun experience so far! If you’re reading this, feel free to share your thoughts—I love hearing other people’s perspectives on characters’ personalities. Without further ado, I’ll see youl in Chapter 2. 🍩 - also posted on A03

[letissierfanfic4]

Maya fanfic part 5 🫶

(This contains some more mature scenes and potentially sensitive topics)

During the walk, Maya looked at her phone.

“Oh my God, It’s Hayley’s birthday party tonight”, She stated, Hayley planned this a while ago and invited the whole team.

“Oh yeah, I need to get something to wear”, You stated.

“Do you not have any clothes at home?”.

“I do but I don’t like them”.

“Do you want to go shopping then?”. Maya asked, sighing jokingly.

“Yes”, You replied playfully bumping into her but she didn’t move, she was too strong.

- A few hours later -

“I’ll pay for it”, Maya said as you walked up to the till.

“Are you sure?”, You replied.

“Of course, I want you to look good tonight”, She replied, smiling.

“Thank you”, You said, bringing her into a hug.

“Okay, well i actually have to get to the till first”.

“Sorry”, You replied, realising that the cashier was waiting as you held up the queue.

You drove back to Maya’s house and dropped her off and then headed back to your apartment to get ready. Maya would pick you up later as she has her car back.

Getting your keys out your bag you unlocked the door to your apartment, which felt empty, you felt empty without Maya.

Not soon after you applied some makeup and put on your new dress and wore some heels to match. Then you got a text from Maya saying she’ll be there in 5minutes.

You heard a knock on your door and opened to see her holding something behind her back. But before she said anything her mouth dropped open left speechless.

“Y-you’re so beautiful”, Maya said.

“Thanks, so are you”, You replied, smiling as you watched her brain slowly catch up to the rest of her body.

“I got these for Hayley”, Maya joked, showing you the flowers behind her back.

You laughed in response.

“I’m joking, these are for you”, Maya said, you could tell she found herself so funny.

“I know”, You smiled.

She passed you the flowers and brought you into a hug walking you into your apartment.

You put the flowers into a glass of water as you didn’t have a vase.

“We should go now”, You said, organising your hand bag.

“Okay, but first”.

Maya brought you into a kiss.

“You’re going to get lipstick on you”, You said wiping her lips.

“Sorry”, She giggled.

Maya drove you to Hayley’s party which involved a nice meal, then later loud music and alcohol.

You walked into the venue and most people were already there, you took a seat next to Maya and got talking to Millie, Vilde and Hannah. You ordered food and the conversations died down a bit.

As you were eating your food you turned to Maya.

“You alright?”, You asked, you didn’t say it loud enough so most people didn’t hear.

“Yes, i’m fine”, Maya replied, turning to face you.

“The suit looks great on you”.

“Thanks, you look so good in that dress”, She replied, smiling, then placed a hand on your thigh.

You glanced into each others eyes but then were cut off by Millie.

“What are you two smiling at?”, Millie said from across the table.

“Nothing”, Maya replied, slyly moving her hand off you.

“Hmmm”, Millie replied.

Not soon after we ordered deserts and finished before anyone else as we didn’t talk much after that.

“I’m just gonna go to the toilet”, Maya said, getting up.

“Okay”, You replied, you wanted to go with her but that would make it too obvious so you joined in with some conversations.

“How is Maya?”, Vilde asked.

“What do you mean?”.

“How is she coping from yesterday?”.

“Oh, she seemed a bit upset about it, but you’ll have to ask her”.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been close lately”.

“I’m just giving her support, as a friend”, you emphasised.

Maya then sat back next to you, she must have heard most of that.

You turned to her and smiled, but she just looked down at her empty plate.

- 30mins later -

The DJ started playing some songs and the alcohol was given out at the bar.

Since that conversation Maya was talking more with Ella, Lessi and Lucia and they were playing a game and if you lost you had to take a shot.

All you could hear was Maya’s laugh across the room which wasn’t difficult for you or anyone to hear.

You were drinking vodka lemonade until suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned around to see Maya with a smile on her face.

“Come and dance with us”, She said, holding your hand and leading you over to the others.

She then moved closer to you so now your bodies were touching but it looked natural in this setting. You could tell Maya was completely drunk.

You looked into her eyes and you could both feel the tension but also frustration that for now all you could act like was friends.

“Follow me”, Maya said, taking your hand and leading you off the dance floor to the toilets. Luckily no one was in there, that you knew of.

She picked you up by your thighs with ease and sat you on the counter.

“Maya, i’m sorry about before i-“.

She cut you off and brought you into a strong kiss, getting her hands tangled in your hair as you felt like she was about to consume you.

“It’s okay”, She whispered through the kiss and then you both leant in for more.

“I just want you”, Maya said, breaking the kiss and placing her hands on your thighs, looking up to you.

“Not here”, You chuckled.

“We did in the kitchen, there was a sink there as well”.

“That’s because it was your house”, You replied, moving a hand on her jawline.

“Let’s leave then”, She said lifting you back down by your hips.

“We can’t just leave her birthday party”.

“Why not?”. She said, now placing her arms around your waist.

“Because people would get suspicious, and also we don’t want Marc to find out”, You said leaning towards her.

She nodded her head, she respected your opinion.

You then laughed at her.

“What?”. She chuckled.

“You have lipstick all over you”.

“Are you sure?, you might to want to-“.

The door suddenly opened.

Maya quickly moved away from you and put her head down to the side so they couldn’t see her face.

“Hey y/n”, Hayley said giving you and smile and then walking into a stall. Hopefully she was too drunk to notice Maya next to you.

Maya then looked back at you with relief on her face.

“Do you have any makeup wipes?”.

“I do…at my apartment”. You teased.

“Let’s go then”.

“Fine”, You sighed, but then your face formed a smile.

Maya smirked at you in return.

She quickly tried to remove most of the lipstick off with some water but it was still slightly visible.

You walked out the bathroom towards the exit but luckily no one spotted you.

Maya gave you her keys as you hadn’t drank as much as her, so it was legal for you to drive.

Before you started the engine she leant in and kissed you again.

“Apartment”.

“Fine”, Maya sighed.

You pulled out of the car park and luckily it wasn’t far from here.

On the way Maya’s hand started moving further and further up your thigh.

“Do you want us to crash?”.

“Sorry”, She said, moving her arm away, but now you missed her touch.

As soon as you parked your car outside your apartment, her hands were all over you.

You locked her car and made your way inside.

Unlocking the door to your apartment, Maya was inpatiently waiting to get inside.

You let her in and shut the door behind you locking it and placed your bag to the side.

Turning around you noticed Maya had already taken her shoes off and she watched you do the same.

She then walked up to you and kissed you once again leading you to your bed.

“can I fuck you?”, Maya said, almost whispering as she waited at the end of the bed.

“Yes”, you laughed at her forwardness which came out of nowhere, but mostly due to the alcohol.

She picked you up and lay you on the bed leaning over you. She started kissing your lips and then made her way down to your neck biting softly.

You started taking off her jacket and unbuttoning her shirt.

She unzipped your dress slowly.

“You’re so beautiful”. She said, softly, carefully taking off your dress.

Her fingers ran down you body.

“Maya please”.

“Please what?”, She teased.

“I need you”.

- An hour later -

You both lay back completely exhausted.

Now cuddled up next to each other as most of your clothes were still abandoned on the floor.

“Night”, Maya said half asleep, stroking your back.

“Goodnight”, You replied, smiling at her.

- The next day -

You woke up and slowly realised Maya wasn’t lay next to you anymore.

Getting up you put some joggers and a shirt on and made your way to the bathroom where you heard noise coming from.

Opening the bathroom door you saw Maya sat next to the toilet wearing some of your clothes. Her forehead was sweating and she looked so hungover.

When she saw you, she was instantly sick.

“I’m sorry, this is so gross”, She said wiping her forehead.

“Maya it’s okay, how long have you been awake for?”, You said bending down next to her.

“probably half an hour”.

“You should have told me”, You replied, stroking her arm.

“I didn’t want to wake you”, Maya said, attempting to smile.

“Do you want me to get you anything?”.

“Maybe some water”.

You went to the kitchen and then brought her a glass of water.

“Thanks”

She took some sips which helped slightly.

She then curled up into a ball hiding her head in her knees.

“Why don’t we go and lay down”.

“My whole body aches”, She sighed.

“I’m not surprised”, You chuckled.

This brought a small smile on her face.

“I’ll help you up”, You said, lifting out your hand.

“Okay”, She said holding on to it.

As soon as you did you her whole body weight was more or less on you.

You walked her to the bed and lay her down putting the glass of water next to her.

“I’m so hungover”, Maya said.

“I can tell”, You replied, chuckling.

- The next day -

You walked into training with Maya as usual and put your belongings in your lockers.

As you were about to leave and go to the pitches Ella called out your name.

You turned to her and she waved her hand towards herself wanting you to walk over to her.

“I’ll meet you outside”, You said to Maya.

“Okay”, She replied, giving Ella a nod.

Sitting down next to her you soon noticed Lessi joining you.

“Is this some sort of interrogation or something?,” You joked.

“No it’s about you and Maya”.

You gulped.

“I don’t know how to put this lightly but… a video of you two kissing was leaked from the party”, Lessi said, holding up her phone.

“W-what, how?”. You replied, noticing it was taken from one of the bathroom stalls, Maya was stood between your thighs facing you therefore her face wasn’t shown.

“We don’t know, we asked everyone separately and they knew nothing about it”.

You were speechless not knowing how to react to the situation.

“The video has been taken down now, but Marc has found out”.

You leant down covering your face with your hands.

“Shit”. Everyone knew Marc can be more difficult with relationships within the team.

“Does Maya know?”, You asked.

“Yes”.

“How long for?”.

“A day or so”.

You nodded your head, but slightly annoyed that she didn’t tell you.

“I assume you two are together then”, Ella said, giving a sly look over to Russo hinting I told you so.

“Yes”, You said, with a small smile

“It will be okay, not many people found out”. Ella said, reassuringly.

You nodded your head.

There was then an awkward silence.

“We should probably head out now”. Russo said.

“Yeah”, You replied, quickly walking towards the door.

You walked on to the pitches and joined in with the warm up.

Maya looked over to you but you avoided eye contact with her.

Whilst you were doing some drills all you could think about was the dread of talking to Maya about the situation at lunch.

This meant your passes became sloppy and your shots were off target.

“Y/n what’s going on? An eight year old could do better”, Marc shouted from the side line.

You nodded your head in return and sighed, looking down. You felt you deserved it.

Not soon after it was time for lunch.

Maya was quick to walk over to you as you made your way inside but you got your food first and sat with Leah, Rachel and Safia meaning the table was full.

“Nice of you to join us”, Leah said with a smile.

“I just want to know more about your Lego group”, You joked.

You then glanced over to Maya who was holding a tray facing towards you, wanting to sit next to you as you have done ever since she joined.

She gave you a weak smile and then turned to sit with Ella, Lessi and Mary.

After lunch was over which felt like 10hours trying to forget about Maya, everyone headed to the gym.

You and Maya were on opposite sides of the room, so the work out cleared your head a bit.

-A few hours later-

It was now time to go home and like always you got a lift with Maya.

As you walked to her car she was already stood by it waiting for you.

“Hi, you alright?”. Maya asked.

You nodded your head and walked past her getting in the passenger seat.

She then got in the car as well.

“Did Ella tell you what happened?”. Maya asked, before starting the engine.

“Yes”. You replied, looking out the window.

“I don’t even know how we didn’t see or hear them”.

“I guess you were too busy kissing all over me”. You said quickly.

The car became silent.

“You can’t blame me”, Maya said, disheartened.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the video sooner?”, You asked, slightly raising your voice.

“I just…I didn’t want you to be hurt by it, I was trying to protect y-“.

“You don’t need to protect me”.

Maya nodded her head, her face saddening, but you turned and looked the other way.

She pulled out the car park.

“Do you want me to drop you off at your apartment?”, Maya asked with an upset tone in her voice.

“Yeah”.

On the way music filled the silence in the car.

You shortly pulled up to the building and wanted to get out as soon as possible.

Usually you would kiss maya before you got out, but you didn’t feel like it today.

“y/n wait”. Maya called out, feeling regret as she watched you walk away.

As much as it hurt, you still ignored her.

Getting in the lift you looked at yourself and hated what you saw, you regret being mad at Maya, she only had good intentions.

Unlocking the door to your apartment you threw your bag on your bed and collapsed onto it. All you could think about was that video and you wanted to figure out who would do something like that in the first place.

But you then heard a knock on the door.

You sighed getting up and walked towards the door.

Opening it you saw Maya.

“ Y/n I’m sorry”. She said.

You didn’t say anything, you didn’t know what to say.

“I said i’m sorry, what more am i meant to do? You can’t ignore and blame me for what’s happened, if i’m not mistaken you kissed me too that night”. Maya said raising her voice, walking towards you so you backed up in the room.

You were caught off guard at first but a small smile crept on your face as she towered over you.

“What?”. Maya exclaimed.

“You’re hot when you’re angry”.

She shook her head.

“Maya I’m sorry, I really am”. You said, whilst placing your arms around her neck.

You could tell that she felt uncomfortable as she was mad, but secretly liked it.

“I’m sorry, I was angry at you”, You continued, moving closer.

Maya made slight eye contact with you.

“I’m sorry, that the video of us making out”, you emphasised, moving your lips near her’s “could have turned into a sex tape”, you teased.

“I guess i’m to blame for that”, Maya replied with a small smile on her face.

“It doesn’t matter now”.

She then placed her hands on your hips.

You looked into each others eyes, thinking about one thing.

Maya leant in and attacked your lips letting out the anger she felt previously.

She led you back towards your bed and leant on top of you.

Her kisses trailed down to your neck as she bit exactly where she knows you like it.

Your fingers ran down her back as you took everything in.

She effortlessly took off your top as her hand slowly made its way down your body, she then made it to your underwear but didn’t go any further.

“Maya, please”. You said through heavy breaths.

A smirk displayed on her face, she enjoyed teasing you.

“I’m going to need better than that”.

“What do you want me to say?”.

“I want you to beg”.

- The next day -

You opened your eyes and saw a sleepy Maya next to you. A few minutes later she also woke up.

“Good morning beautiful”, Maya said, through a tired voice.

“Good morning”, You said smiling at her.

Not soon after she slowly sat up next to you.

“I’m sorry about yesterday”, She said, looking at you lovingly.

“It’s okay, i should apologise”. You said, reaching for her hand.

“You don’t need to”.

You smiled at her.

“I need to check up on mocha soon”. She said squeezing your hand.

“That’s fine”. You said leaning against her shoulder.

“My neighbour is looking after her”.

“I thought your parents were looking after her?”.

“No, that was just for the night of the party, she said she was going out herself that night”.

“Do you know where to?”

“No she didn’t say”.

You nodded her head but then a thought came to you.

“Did your neighbour know where our party was?”.

“Yes, I told her where i was going as I asked her first if she could look after Mocha before my parents”.

“Hmm, do you think it was her?”.

“What was her?”.

“Who took the video of us”.

“I know you were jealous of her, but like i told you there’s nothing to worry about”, She laughed.

“I’m being serious”

“I could ask where she was, if you really want me to”.

“That would be good, thanks”.

“We’ll find out who did this, don’t worry”.

You nodded your head.

She then leant in and kissed you softly.

“I should probably get ready to go then”. She said, slightly moving away from you.

“Whyyy?”. You said, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“Do you want answers?”. She replied, turning her head back towards you.

“Fine”. You sighed, kissing her cheek.

- An hour later -

Maya sat down with Mocha on the couch along with her neighbour who was about to leave.

“Wait, can i ask you something?”. Maya asked.

“Of course”, She said placing her hand on Maya’s knee, Maya was quick to move her hand off her.

“I was just thinking were you at home the night I was at Hayley’s birthday party, because my parents told me they saw you home and said hi?”. Maya lied.

“Yes i went home, why are you asking that?”.

“You went home?“.

“Oh yes sorry, I felt ill so I stayed at home all night”.

“You told me you were going out all night so you couldn’t look after Mocha”.

“Like I said i felt ill, so i didn’t go”, She said now slightly raising her voice.

“Okay, it’s just something happened at the party”.

“I didn’t have anything to do with the video of you and y/n”.

“When did i mention there was a video?”. Maya asked, curiously.

“I thought a video got leaked?”.

“It did, how did you see it?”.

“I just did, i assume you and y/n had a good time then?”. She said, trying to change the subject.

“How did you know?”.

“Like i told you, i saw it when it got leaked”.

“But you couldn’t see my face”.

“I assumed it was you, you two are always together”.

“Well she is my girlfriend”.

A stern look came across her face.

“I did tell you, didn’t I?”

“No”.

“Oh, well she is”.

“I should probably go then”. She said getting up.

“But you know about the video”.

She walked towards the front door.

But Maya got there before her and blocked off the door.

“Did you take the video?”.

She didn’t say anything.

“I know you did”. Maya said this to try and get a confession.

“Fine, yes, yes i did and there’s nothing you can do about it”.

“Why would you do that?”.

“Because”.

“Because what?”.

“I was jealous, I thought we had something special”. She said moving towards Maya, who was now blocked in.

“No”.

“when we kissed, did that not mean anything to you?”.

“I was drunk and confused, i told you it wasn’t going to turn into anything, and then i met y/n so it’s never going to work out”.

“Maya”. She said, softly.

Maya’s back was now pinned against the door.

“I only filmed it because i just want you”. She said stroking her hand down Maya’s arm.

“Not going to happen”. Maya said, quickly trying to get around her.

However, as she did her neighbour brought her into a kiss, pressing herself against her, pushing her on the wall.

“What the fuck”. Maya said, pushing her away and wiping her lips.

“You’re going to regret this”. She said and left maya’s home, slamming the door on the way out.

Maya froze trying to comprehend what just happened, her heart was beating heavily and she felt she had no control of her body.

However Mocha trotted up towards her, breaking her out of her trance.

“Mocha i’m sorry”. She said, bending down to pet her, tears quickly streaming down her face. Mocha wagged her tail and cuddled up close to her.

“I need to tell y/n”

After 30 minutes of wanting to call you, she gathered up the courage and dialled your number.

“Hey, y/n you were right”. Maya said, then sniffled.

“Oh my God are you okay?”. You replied.

“Y-yes i’m fine”. She replied, her voice slightly breaking.

”How did you find out?”.

“I managed to get her to confess”.

“I need to come over and see you, so you can tell me everything that happened”.

“No”. Maya said, quickly.

“What, why?”.

“I…I’m just trying to process everything”.

“Is there something you’re not telling me”.

“…No, no”.

“Okay, can i see you tomorrow?”.

“Sure”.

“Remember i’m always here for you”.

“I know”.

“See you tomorrow then”.

“Okay, bye”.

“Bye”.

Maya ended the call and stared blankly at her contacts, she soon noticed a name she never wanted to see again and deleted the number.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe and needed to get out the house and Mocha needed a walk.

Walking around the park she was so used to being next to you in, it made her feel even more regret. Maya blamed herself more than anyone and hated herself because of it. She couldn’t stop replaying the kiss in her head and felt a strong amount of guilt, feeling like she should have done more.

She soon went back to her house refusing to look at the one next to her, she couldn’t stay here much longer, but she had nowhere else to go, and she needed to look after mocha.

Unclipping Mocha’s lead she quickly walked in the door, she couldn’t look at her corridor the same. She couldn’t believe she let something like that happen, in her own home.

Opening Mocha’s dog food she scooped some biscuits into her bowl and placed it down for her. Her neighbour did take good care of mocha, good enough that maya could always trust her, but she soon realised it was only because she wanted Maya to like her back, which was never going to happen.

Now feeling incredibly sick, she left Mocha to lay on the couch and made her way upstairs, she couldn’t stomach lunch.

Tears started flowing down her face again as they couldn’t seem to stop, her mind was spinning with all the possible ways to deal with the situation knowing what she knows.

She was conflicted between telling everyone who took the video or wait till tomorrow to tell you and how to properly deal with the situation. She ended up crying herself to sleep.

After that phone call with Maya you couldn’t think straight, you were filled with worry of what the next day brings and how hurt she would have been to not want you to go round and see her.

Why would her neighbour of all people do something like that? It just seemed so strange to you as you don’t know enough about her or Maya as you thought.

You took a deep breath and played the video of you and Maya that was leaked, you swore you were going to delete it but it’s always lay in your recently deleted folder just to be played again. But this time it’s helpful to find clues.

The room had dim lighting so it wasn’t like people could see everything of what was going on and the video wasn’t of the best quality as if it had been taken on an older phone, and clearly from within a stall.

You wanted to know more about her neighbour so you found her instagram but found nothing suspicious from her posts, but then you noticed a comment from a year ago.

That was when Maya first heard about signing for man united so she looked for a house early and stayed there for a few months before meeting the team and you.

The post was of her kitchen as it had been refurbished, as if anyone cared.

Maya commented: ‘Looks great!’

Her reply: ‘You look better 😉’

You felt you wanted to die on the spot, Maya said there was nothing to worry about but clearly that shows the opposite.

Zooming in the picture closely you also noticed in the mirror was the back of someone’s head, they had a high pony tail and you instantly knew it was Maya straight away.

You felt frustrated that she never told you any of this, but i guess what was she supposed to say?, ‘Hey y/n, i used to go out with my neighbour’.

Sighing you put your phone down and placed your palms over your eyes. You wanted to expose the shit out of her but that would also have a large impact on Maya if she’s involved with it, which would ruin everything.

You were so exhausted from everything going on recently, so thought it’s best to take a nap to slightly reduce the sickness you felt.

-

Maya suddenly woke up flinching, every event that happened that morning hit her like a ton of bricks.

She looked at the clock and it was now 5pm, she hadn’t had anything to eat since 11am with you so she was starving. She soon noticed Mocha was now cuddled next to her and instantly wagged her tail as she looked at her.

Wiping her eyes she slowly got up from her bed and walked towards her en-suit, placing her hands on the sink she looked directly into the mirror. She had cried so much all her emotions went numb, now feeling nothing, even if she tried.

Sighing she splashed her face with water and made her way out her room and down the stairs.

She fed mocha first and then looked in the cupboards of what she could make but there was nothing as she didn’t go to the shops. She ended up ordering a chicken salad from a restaurant nearby as she was sensible enough not just to order junk food.

Opening the back door she let Mocha in the garden realising she has to go out again after and take her on a walk. Then the doorbell rang, she walked to the door thinking that came quick.

However she didn’t open the door to a delivery driver, she opened it to you…

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Mates (One Word Prompt Story)

Set in that ambiguous time period of MIC's plot where Dras Leona happened in Inheritance but Nasuada wasn't captured and the war kept dragging on.

(A/N: I can't say I'm back, but it is good to be writing again. I don't know where this romance muck came from but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't oddly fond of it. It started as a humor piece and then actually got serious for a bit. This could be considered a follow up to the other one word prompt Wonder. Hope you enjoy!)

Eragon ran his fingers through his hair again, doing his best to comb it back to its normal disarray. 

‘Do I look normal?’ He turned to Saphira, palms out and held away from his body as he did a quick 360 spin. He was pretty sure his clothes were fine, he had stopped by his tent to grab a fresh set but hadn’t been able to find a mirror.

The dragon snorted, an undercurrent of laughter weaving through her voice. ‘Normal? Do you mean to ask if you look like you just had a wild rut with your bodyguard and eternal infatuation for the first time last night?’ Saphira lowered her head and regarded him with one large eye, mirth dancing in the pre-dawn light reflected there.

Eragon felt his ears promptly turn a dark crimson. ‘Could you please stop calling it that?’ He pleaded. ‘It makes it sound so…animalistic. It was more than that, it was….’ The young Rider trailed off, his face heating up as well as memories of the encounter began flitting to the forefront of his mind. ‘I shouldn’t be thinking about it right now. Just…do I look okay?’

Saphira contained her giggles as best she could. She knew what the previous night meant for Eragon, what it meant for his heart and what it meant for them both as a bonded Rider and Dragon. She could feel underneath his nerves that the young man was practically leaping with joy, his heart singing with a completion that had evaded him for so long. Teasing him was fun, especially with how flustered he was in the moment, but she would never leave him without support. Even when letting him squirm was exponentially more entertaining. 

So she cocked her head this way and that, gently nudged him slightly to get a better look, and gave him a cursory sniff. ‘You still smell like sex.’

‘Saphira!’ 

‘Not enough for the elves to detect.’ The dragon assured. After looking him up and down one more time, bobbing her head, Saphira gave him a gentle chuff. ‘You look fine. Very normal.’ 

Eragon let out a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he was holding. ‘Thank you.’ Still a bit nervous, he nodded towards the makeshift pens the Varden had set up to hold their animals. ‘I guess if you want something to eat, now’s the time.’ 

Saphira merely folded her paws over each other and rested her head on the ground. ‘I hunted last night. I will wait for you here.’ She gave him a nudge with a short blast of air from her nostrils, pushing him towards the near empty mess tent. ‘Go on. Be normal.’

He gave her a nervous smile and pushed through the flap, trying to hide the excited shaking of his hands.

Inside the tent was dim, lit only by a few soft lanterns scattered throughout. His elven bodyguards were already arrayed at several tables, eating their breakfasts before dawn as they usually did. The quiet murmur of their voices only paused for a moment when Eragon entered, and then returned to the low mumble of a typical morning. 

Collecting his food from the trays set out by the cooks, Eragon quickly found a seat across Brom and Glenwing at an otherwise empty table. 

“Morning.” He nodded to them both. Just be normal. 

“Good morning, Eragon.” Glen smiled, raising two of his mechanical fingers in greeting. 

Brom just grunted, hunched over his coffee. 

First hurdle crossed. Relieved, the young Rider ducked his head and began attacking his breakfast. Who knew that spending a majority of the night entangled in someone’s arms would be so draining? 

So focused on his meal, Eragon didn’t notice when Glen glanced up and did a sudden double take. Nor when the elf nudged the young man’s father beside him.

Eragon did notice when Brom suddenly choked on his coffee. 

He looked up, concerned, as the old man coughed and banged his chest, face turning red. “Hey, you okay?”

“Totally fine.” Brom wheezed. There was no mistaking it. That was definitely there. Brom was still getting used to being a proper father, no matter the smattering of years that passed since revealing his relation to the boy. He couldn’t tell if he should be proud, worried, or angry. 

Glen just hid his smile with a sip of his tea. Taken them long enough. He was happy for them. 

A few minutes later the tent flap brushed open. Eragon stiffened his muscles, resisting the urge to turn. He knew exactly who had just walked in. They had planned it after all. Don’t show up at the mess together, or too close together. 

“Good morning, sir.” He could hear some of the sleepiness still in her voice as she greeted Blödhgarm as normal, could practically see in his mind's eye the way she tapped her knuckles to her chest in a tired elven salute. “Reporting for duty.”

“Good morning, Arya.” Blödhgarm’s smooth voice remained even. Good. He didn’t notice anything. 

The relief trickling in abruptly halted when Blödhgarm suddenly let out an uncharacteristic choked cough. But that had to be just a coincidence, because Eragon could hear that Arya was already walking by as it happened. Her footsteps stopped though, and he could hear her turn back. 

“You alright?”

Blödhgarm cleared his throat. “Quite. Anything to report?”

Eragon could hear the shrug in her voice. “No. All quiet.” When the fur covered elf didn’t respond beyond a hum, Eragon felt his tensing shoulders slump back to relaxed. Must have been dust or something.

A few moments later Arya put her tray down next to Eragon’s, sitting beside him at the bench. “That was weird.” She frowned, scooping up a bland forkful of tofu scramble. “Did he pick something up the last time the Queen’s scouts came by?”

Eragon shrugged. “Maybe?” He looked to Glen across the table, the medic doing his best to keep a straight face. “Did he talk to you about anything?”

“Uh-uh.” Glen shoved a torn piece of bread into his mouth while mumbling the negative. That would do for now.

Brom, however, sat with his mouth hanging open. He snapped it shut when Arya looked up, but apparently he hadn’t been fast enough.

Arya squinted at him suspiciously. “What’s wrong with you, old man?” 

Caught and flustered, the old Rider opened and closed his mouth a few times. He had known there wasn’t really anyone else who could have left that on his son, but seeing as the woman in front of him with one as well had left him somewhat shellshocked. 

After a few moments of Arya staring at him with a raised eyebrow and his chance catching flies rapidly increasing, Brom managed to sputter, “Any–...Anything you two want to tell us?”

“What?” Arya frowned. Brom reached up and jerkily tapped the side of his head. “What are you–” Her eyes suddenly went wide. “Oh. Oh no.”

Eragon whipped his head around. “Oh no?”

Arya lowered her rapidly blushing face into her hands with a groaned, “We didn’t.” It was more of a plea than a statement. 

“You did.” Brom confirmed. 

“Please tell me we didn’t!”

“You did!” Glenwing laughed.

Eragon looked between the three of them, incredulous. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” 

From behind her hands, her head now lowered to the table and her ears turning as dark scarlet as Eragon’s had, Arya half laughed and half mumbled, “We marked each other as mates last night.” 

Still laughing, Glen reached across the table and tugged his former CO’s head to the side. On the tip of her opposite ear Eragon saw a dark bruise, clearly outlining a bite mark. His hand flew up to the tips of his own ears, and with a rapid blush he felt a slight bolt of soreness on his left. 

“Oh.” He looked down at his food. “Well, that’ll do it then.”

The tent filled with soft laughter, and with a jolt Eragon realized it was the other elves. 

“About time!” Yaela called, shaking her head with a smile. “We’ve been waiting.” 

“Seconded on that.” Glen beamed. “Half of us were about to start putting bets on you two.”

Blödhgarm’s sonorous voice cut through the rabble. “As long as this does not affect your duties–” 

“It won’t.” Arya was standing, face still splashed with color but her expression firm. “It never has and it never will. And from all of you!” She pointed menacingly at the other tables where her kind gathered. To Eragon’s surprise, the laughter and jovial attitude died immediately. “Not a word of this leaves this tent. This is our business, so no hint of this goes in any official or unofficial reports. Understood?” 

Blödhgarm cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. The elfling typically followed the loose command structure set since he and the rest of the spellcasters had arrived. This was a bold move, though in truth he had long ago learned to expect those from the Queen’s daughter. 

He nodded. “Understood.”

Arya dropped back onto the bench, leaning against it for support as she looked suddenly drained. “Good.” She rubbed her forehead. “Okay, good. That’s the main thing. Okay.” 

The tent slowly returned to the soft murmur of quiet conversation, though this time a little more hushed. Arya turned back to her food, poking at it with a fork as the other occupants of the table did the same.

“Sorry about that.” Eragon looked over at Arya’s mumble. “I…I got scared for a second. Islanzadí….” She closed her eyes, and took a breath. “I just don’t want someone else telling her.” 

“No one will.” Glen assured. The two across from him looked up. “And I want to say congratulations to you both.”

Brom cleared his throat and set down his coffee mug. “I am…entirely unsure as to what I’m supposed to do in this situation but…” He nodded. “I’m happy for you two as well. Just…be careful.” 

The acceptance of his father instantly sent a broad smile across Eragon’s face. “Thank you.” The wiggly glimmers of excitement had wormed their way back into his chest, making his heart flutter. 

Arya, however, wore a half twisted smirk of trepidation and amusement on her lips. “You’re both going to tease us mercilessly about this, aren’t you?”

‘They’ll have plenty of help with that.’ Saphira’s toothy grin flashed through the minds of the four at the table. 

The elf shook her head with a laugh. “Fine. I guess there’s no avoiding it.” 

Eragon shook his head, and for the entirety of breakfast didn’t lose his smile. 

~~

It wasn’t until after, a few days after in fact, that the young Rider and his original bodyguard had a moment of time alone again. They didn’t spend the time as passionately as they had that night, but instead sat together in Eragon’s tent, letting the quiet drape over them. 

In some ways, Eragon mused, their relationship hadn’t really changed. They had done this before as friends many times, just sitting together in a little piece of solitude away from the war and tumultuous world around them. It had taken time for their shoulders to touch but from that point on they leaned on each other for support, a moment of contact that didn’t signify danger or a brief spark of comfort that would flit away. 

The only difference was that this time Eragon was sprawled out, his head resting in the elf’s lap as she gently combed her fingers through his hair. His own fingertips wandered her side, feeling the muscles beneath shift as she breathed. Occasionally his palm would slide over her hip to lay flat on her back, relishing in the warmth that seeped from her skin to his.

They stayed like that for a time before the young Rider tilted his head upwards. “Arya?”

“Hmm?” She brushed his bangs away from his eyes. He’d probably ask her to help cut his hair again soon. It was getting longer than he usually preferred, the back nearly touching his shoulders.

“What the others noticed before. The marks. What’s it mean?” 

“Oh.” 

Eragon sat up when her hand paused. “You don’t have to–”

“No. No, you should know.” Arya was blushing again, and Eragon couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped his lips. She had so rarely blushed before, but now, having to explain the base instincts of her race to him had her stomach turning in knots. “Many elves don’t commit to a partner. When they do, it’s…it’s expected to be long term. Like, long term.” She bit her lip, trying to find the best words. “We instinctively marked each other because of the whole…pheromones…thing. And usually that mark means that we’ve committed to each other. Exclusively.”

Eragon frowned slightly. “So...did we essentially get married while having sex?”

Arya laughed at that. “No! But…it just means we’re monogamous. Usually there’d be more talking about it first.” She looked down, her voice dropping. “I…I didn’t mean to lay claim to you like that without asking. I should have asked, and it’s considered practically illegal to do so without asking. I…” She took another deep breath. “I do love you, Eragon. And I also know that you are young, and could have anyone you want. You reciprocated the bite because of instinct, without knowing what it meant, and I shouldn’t have let it get to that point.”

Concerned at the rising distress in her voice, the young Rider slipped his fingers between hers and squeezed her hand. A pang hit him when her grip remained loose. 

“I should have asked you and explained it. And if you want to reject it then we can just heal the marks, you don’t have to be bound by–” 

He was relieved that his lips on hers silenced her. Her fingers immediately found his hair as he leaned into her, his own hand falling to the back of her neck to hold her close. When he pulled back he felt a tingle of pride that Arya was somewhat breathless. 

“Well, if you should have asked….” He murmured, pressing his forehead to hers. “Ask me now.”

“What?” She fumbled, lightly putting a hand to his chest. “Eragon, you don’t have to–”

He shushed her gently, brushing her lower lip with his thumb. “How do I ask then?” He didn’t know why she looked so dumbfounded. He hadn’t exactly kept how much he loved her, how much he had wanted her and wanted her by his side forever, a secret. Worry wormed its way into his mind. What if she didn’t? What if that night was all just pheromones and battlefield friendship being mistaken by biology for genuine love? “I won’t if you don’t want me t–”

“You use my name. You ask if I will be your mate until the sun burns out or our feelings fade the same.” The words tumbled from her mouth in a rush. Her dark eyes looked into his, and for a moment Eragon saw past the rough and tumble exterior, the battered memories and steely conviction, all the things he had thought he had seen through before and he saw something new. She was pleading with him, begging for him to say the words despite the fear that kept sneaking up, the fear of losing him like she had lost so many others and the fear that one day his feelings would fade, that he would turn away from her to find another. 

Eragon met her gaze and gently cupped her face in his hands, nose to nose with the woman he couldn’t even begin to describe how he felt so strongly for. 

“Arya Dröttningu, will you be my mate until the sun burns out or our feelings fade the same?” He smiled softly, his voice that low rumble again. “But mine won’t.”

Arya’s fingers tightened in his hair and she closed her eyes, teeth digging into her lip. The last time she made this claim, the man she held had indeed burned out with the sun. He was buried leagues away, beneath sun dappled pines and with a black morning glory climbing the trunk of his living grave marker. That pain, that ache, the feeling of seeing him fall, it never went away. 

Except when she was with him. Except when she felt Eragon’s arm around her shoulders the last few months, except when he couldn’t help but hug her after losing sight of her on the battlefield, when he looked at her with those dark eyes of his, when he laughed, when he touched her at all and when he slid his wonderful hands across her bare skin that night and stole her breath from her lungs with every damn kiss. It had happened so slowly yet so fast, and even though the pain was still there she could pass it by and know. 

Know that it was okay. Know that Fäolin would have wanted her to have someone again. Know that Eragon was here, and alive, and she’d do everything she could to keep it that way. Know that she was the bodyguard this time, know that he would be safe with her, with Saphira, with Brom, with everyone else and everyone in the Varden was working to keep this one man and his partner of heart and mind alive. 

And the King be damned if he was going to try and take another from her. 

Fuck, she really did love him. And he had made it clear that he loved her. 

She was already saying it, eyes open and locked to his.

“I will. Eragon Bromsson, will you be my mate until the stars burn out or our feelings fade the same?” She slid her hand over his, murmured against his lips, “Mine won’t either.”

“I will.”

When Arya pulled back she was met with one of the most Eragon expressions she had ever seen. He was beaming ear to ear, eyes shining with that childlike light that always had her on the edge of laughter. He was practically shaking with excitement, and suddenly grabbed her hands.

He dropped off the cot and onto one knee, clasping both her hands in his and kissed them, trying to hide the giddy smile. “We’ve done it your way, now I get to do it mine. Arya Dröttningu, will you marry me?”

At that Arya couldn’t help but laugh. He was too much. “I’ve told you, elves don’t marry, you big dope!”

The smile never faded. “Then can I at least get you a ring? I can make them like Roran’s and Katrina’s, we’ll never have to be wondering what part of the warzone we’ve managed to get to again!” Eragon was practically bouncing, and again pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Pleeease?”

Damn it. The way he looked at her from under his bangs, gaze a mixture of pleading puppy and somehow alluring, made it nigh impossible to refuse him. Laughing again, Arya shook her head in disbelief. What had she gotten herself into when falling in love with him? “Fine! Fine. But nothing fancy!”

The bouncing increased. “Can I say we’re married?” Arya’s sharp frown still did little to dissuade his joy. He knew better than that, knew that she didn’t like that kind of personal information being slung around the Varden where any spy could seize on it. “No. Okay. Can I at least tell Roran and Katrina that we’re officially mates?”

Arya sighed, teasingly making it sound as long-suffering as possible. “You can tell Roran and Katrina. Brom and Glen already know, but you can tell them it’s official if you want.”

The elf jumped when Eragon let out an elated whoop and leapt to his feet. “Saphira!” He was out of the tent before Arya could blink, and then back again, grabbing her hand and pulling her out with him. “Saphira, we need to go see Roran and Katrina right now!” 

As Saphira launched them into the sky with a bugle, rippled with her own draconic laughter at her Rider’s joy, Arya just shook her head again and laughed with them. Whatever the hell she had just gotten into, it would certainly be interesting. 

[kingkaisen]

First Crush & First Kiss

When eren, armin, jean, and levi have a crush on you, and when they first kiss you.

sfw // canonverse // eren never left the scouts

EREN YEAGER tries to get your attention. When you’re around, he’s working extra hard and putting his entire soul into showing you his strength and determination. During dangerous missions, you’ll find that Eren is always by your side no matter what form he’s in as an attempt to protect you and make sure that you’re okay. When Eren becomes more…unstable, he confronts you and asks you if you support his mindset and beliefs. Your answer doesn’t really matter to him, as whether or not you agree or disagree with everything he’s done, he’s taking you with him, by force if necessary.

The first kiss occurred before you both admitted your feelings for each other. You and Eren never bothered to concern yourselves with labels or titles for your relationship, but at the time, you and Eren were just friends. Despite only being friends, Eren had already claimed you in his mind as his. After a successful mission, the scouts gathered for a nice meal and some drinks. However, Eren caught a glimpse of you sitting on Jean’s lap. You were both way too close for his liking. He didn’t hesitate to make his way over to you and snatch you up without a word. His grip on your arm told you everything that you needed to know. You had upset him. Shockingly, Eren didn’t say anything. He only dragged you all the way to the closest empty room that he could find. The second he slammed the door behind you, he pinned you against it, smashing his lips against yours, his tongue suddenly swirling around your mouth as you could only gasp out of pure shock. He kissed you until you could taste every bit of anger he had over the thought of you being with anyone else.

-

ARMIN ARLERT talks about you all the time. He fell for you when you saved his life once, and his mind instantly wrapped itself around the idea of you ever since. He won’t admit his feelings to anyone due to his low self-esteem, but he talks about you so much without even realizing it. His friends can easily tell that he has a thing for you based on the way his eyes glisten when he talks about you, how his attention is easily grabbed when your name comes up in a conversation, and with the way he blushes when someone accuses him of having a crush.

The first kiss happened accidentally. While fighting off the enemy, you were fatally wounded and unconscious from your severe injuries. When you awakened, Armin was glancing down at you. Even through your fogged mind, you could see that he was exhausted and panicked. You had apparently been knocked out cold for three solid days, on the brink of death. Armin didn’t get a single bit of rest the entire time. He never left your side either. When your eyes fluttered open, a cry of relief left him as tears slipped down his cheeks. He pulled you in for a sudden, soft yet deep kiss, so overwhelmed that you survived that he didn’t realize what he was doing. He pulled away, stuttering out an apology and mentally slapping himself for doing such a thing. Luckily, you had found the entire situation to be purely precious.

-

JEAN KIRSTEIN flirted with you the second he saw you. It wasn’t the fact that he’s confident in terms of his looks and personality, but the fact that he couldn’t let you walk by without saying something. Not once has he ever hesitated to defend you against anything or anyone, be it a titan or an asshole. Jean is certain that you’ll be his one day, simply because he won’t rest until you are. One day, Jean was feeling particularly emotional about everything he’s been through, and was telling Connie how far he’d go to protect you, and that he was in love with you. Little did he know, you happened to be listening at the door. You didn’t make yourself known, but the next day, you asked him out. He almost fainted, trying to play it cool by telling you that he liked someone with guts.

The first kiss was after your first date. He was a complete gentleman with you. He kissed you softly, yet passionately, holding you in his hands as if you were the most precious thing to him. Truth be told, you were. When you both pulled away, not before he gently tugged at your bottom lip needily, you both rested your foreheads together. In his mind, he was already thinking about marrying you. He watched you wholeheartedly as you walked away, and once you were out of sight, he joyfully ran off to go find Connie. He had to tell him everything.

-

LEVI ACKERMAN was impressed by your strength. You shared the same qualities as him, and he found himself unintentionally growing close to you. After getting to know you and talking with you all night long when you first met, he was conflicted. The world was unforgiving. Every single day, he awakened and wondered if he would die or lose anyone he cared about. Therefore, he was not ready to invite someone new into his life only to have to tell them goodbye. At the same time, he felt empty without you. He often stayed up late at night wondering if avoiding you out of fear of inescapable death was worth the emptiness eating away at his insides.

The first kiss was initiated by you. He was surprised, but he melted into it instantly. You cared for him, and you knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t make the first move. His heart exploded inside of his chest when you pressed your lips against his. He could have cried from the relief his body felt from feeling loved unconditionally. He wasn’t used to that. He gripped your hair, deepening the kiss that was seemingly healing him. It was a kiss that gave him something to fight for. Besides, you looked so beautiful with the way the subtle flame from a nearby candle shone upon your skin.

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[redux-iterum]

Burning Hearts: Chapter Thirteen

(AO3 counterpart here.)

If ThunderClan was already mournful the night before, the report from the search patrol threw them into pain like the losses of Redtail and Smallstorm combined. Having no body, Fireheart heard repeatedly through the night, made it so much worse. There was no chance to have a proper send-off. No one got to say goodbye.

Fireheart was surprised at how desperately he wished he could have returned home with a corpse.

But, eventually, the night passed, and the Clan had to move on. Work continued: hunting, border-marking, and taking care of each other. Conversation shifted from Lionface back to mundane, aimless chatter about the territory and the weather. Even Goldenflower managed to resume her maternal optimism, and Fireheart eventually restrained himself from visiting her and inquiring about her mental health. She was fine, so she said; what worried her was Frostfur, who had been mute several nights in a row and simply stared at her kittens. Those kits were growing fast, and they would get along in the Clan without their father just fine. So many warriors did, after all.

“Will they understand what happened?” Fireheart asked, eyeing the darkness of the nursery’s entrance. “If they ask about him, can we explain?”

Goldenflower sighed through her nose and looked down at her son with sad kindness. “We’ll have to, at some point. But they’ll be strong, honeymouse, even if they’re sad. They’ve got everyone in this Clan to support them. Not just Frostfur.”

Fireheart nodded, a hard, cold boulder lifting off his back to be replaced with a warmer sensation, like a blanket covering him. It was a weight he liked: a pressure of responsibility that he could get behind.

So Frostfur was still grieving. That was understandable and obvious. What was more difficult to parse was how Greystripe fared. He was almost never in camp, hardly speaking unless spoken to, eating a mouse in silence before stalking out to hunt alone. Fireheart and Ravenwing couldn’t get anything out of him, even as the hollowness gradually left his eyes.

“You don’t have to go back into the Houses,” he said one night as Fireheart stood from his meal to do just that. “I can handle it from here.”

Fireheart blinked and looked at him with a tilted head. “Did RiverClan say they don’t need more than one hunter or something?”

“No.” Greystripe stared down at his prey. “You can just leave it now. I’ve got it.”

Fireheart looked curiously at Ravenwing. The black tom was squinting at Greystripe, ears swiveling.

“I mean…” Fireheart lowered his voice. “I’d like to be able to see my friend and sister for a legitimate reason.”

“You can visit on your own time,” Greystripe said, suddenly cross. His tail twitched.

Confused but cautious, Fireheart said, “Did I do something wrong? I thought I was helping with—”

Greystripe's tail lashed once. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just stay in the forest, alright?”

His friends glanced at each other, both seeking answers that they didn’t have.

“I’ll tell Bluestar that I’m done for now, then?” Fireheart tried.

Greystripe looked up sharply, still irritable, but with an unmistakable nervousness creeping around his face. “No, no, she doesn’t have to know. She’d– she’d probably just tell you to get back to it. I’ll tell her, if we have to.”

Fireheart stared at Greystripe, baffled. He almost asked if something was going on, but the stress slowly flaring up his friend’s fur made him decide against it. He gave a squinting Ravenwing a flick of the tail—just leave it be—and nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “Well, let me know when you want me to help again.”

Greystripe relaxed a bit. He gulped down the last of his mouse and stood up too. “Thanks. I, uh, I should go handle that. See you two later tonight.”

Without a chance for the others to respond, he trotted away and out through the camp entrance. Fireheart watched him go with a nonplussed frown.

“Something’s up,” Ravenwing said.

“I can tell that, at least.” Fireheart looked at him. “Any ideas on what?”

Ravenwing squinted further. “Not a set one. I’ll get back to you on that.”

Nights passed with no words from Greystripe or Ravenwing. Fireheart was antsy to see his sister again, or at least chat with Smudge, but he stuck to Greystripe's request and stayed within the confines of ThunderClan territory. He didn’t bother Ravenwing about the whole thing, either, in the worries that he’d interrupt the thinking process. He was left dealing with Greystripe's distracted answers to conversation and Ravenwing’s mute but suspicious looks. Mealtime became very awkward.

After another couple of nights of this, Fireheart was actually relieved to be put on border patrol with Sandstorm and Dustpelt. Ravenwing went along as well, looking about as enthusiastic as the others did.

“I know it’s not with all of your friends,” Tigerclaw said to him as the others were waiting to leave camp. “But I trust you can make it pleasant.”

Fireheart curled his tail, enthused by the challenge. “I’ll do my best.” With a nod to Tigerclaw, he turned and caught up to the patrol, and they left the camp without a word.

He had to give credit to Sandstorm for not complaining about the soppy mud all of them were swiftly collecting on their paws and legs. Torrential downpours for the past few nights had kept everyone thoroughly soaked and more than a little grumpy about it. Even Cinderpaw had been less chipper.

“Well,” Fireheart said when the tense silence had gone on long enough, “I’ll bet RiverClan loves this.”

Dustpelt, at the head of the patrol, turned his head and stared at Fireheart. “What?”

“The rain, I mean.”

“Why the rain?”

Fireheart swept his tail at the river they were just now turning to walk alongside. “They haven’t been able to swim, with the stuff in their water. They probably miss getting wet, and now here’s an opportunity. I mean, you can’t swim in rain, but—”

Sandstorm scoffed. “In this rain, you could.”

“Thick enough to blind,” Dustpelt agreed, but he didn’t sound quite as hostile. He turned back and continued on his way, ears back a bit.

Fireheart glanced at Ravenwing. His friend’s jaw was tight and his eyes were nervous. One look Fireheart’s way was enough for Fireheart to reassuringly tap Ravenwing’s side with his tail.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but Dustpelt beat him to it. “WindClan must be miserable.”

Fireheart jumped at the opportunity. “Why’s that? Don’t they have dens?”

“I don’t know, maybe?” Dustpelt cocked his head, tone now wandering a little ways into contemplative. “I’ve heard they sleep in the open. No one’s ever corrected any cat that said so at a Gathering.”

Fireheart blinked and shook his head when rainwater dripped into his eyes. “They must have something for the queens, at least, right? Don’t cats get sick when they're wet and cold too much?”

“Obviously,” Sandstorm said, paused, and then added with a little less acidity, “They’re not stupid enough to risk their health for no reason.”

Ravenwing mumbled something so quietly that Fireheart barely caught it. “They’re not stupid at all.”

“What’d you say?” Dustpelt asked.

Ravenwing flinched. “Nothing.”

Fireheart came to the rescue before they could press Ravenwing. “They seem like sensible cats! I bet they’ve got dens, and use them for weather like this, even if they do sleep out in the open most of the time.”

He could feel Sandstorm’s eyeroll with her head turned away from him, but, to his surprise, Dustpelt looked back again and continued engaging.

“There’s not much in the way of cover, is the only thing,” he said. “You’ve been on that moor. There’s tall heath and some shrubs, not nearly as thick as the ones here.”

Fireheart thought for a moment. “Well, we have a den under the ground for the nursery. Maybe they did the same thing—dug dens, I mean.”

“Cats don’t have the right claws for digging,” Sandstorm said.

“Don’t they have friends in other animals?” Fireheart asked. “If they were struggling, they could get a badger or something to help."

Dustpelt shook his head. "That’s a long leap. I doubt even they would get a badger into their territory like that.”

“Well…” Ravenwing cleared his throat, still speaking quietly. “Well, rabbits dig dens. They, um, could have just taken up residence in an already made den.”

“Oh!” Fireheart shook his head in calculated amusement. “Why didn’t we think of that? That’s the obvious answer.”

His bright and cheery words had the effect he wanted; Sandstorm didn’t snap out anything, and Dustpelt just sighed in recognition and nodded, saying, “Fair idea. I guess they would work smarter instead of harder.”

He picked up his pace to join Sandstorm, back at the head of the patrol, and said something quietly to her, which she acknowledged with an ear-flick. The air was more relaxed than before, with even Ravenwing walking a little easier. Fireheart didn’t say anything either, but his tail was high with some small pride at how well the conversation had gone.

The rain wasn’t much better along the edges of the forest, but at least no RiverClan cats were around to quarrel with. The water of the river had risen up enough to touch some of the slabs of stone at the lower parts of Sunningrocks, thick white stripes curving around even the smallest ripples. Fireheart had to adjust his ears to its roar as they went from tree to tree and marked.

“Hold on,” Sandstorm said suddenly, stopping. The toms paused as well, watching her sniff the air, then trot forward to a little patch of wet grass, nose down.

“Something up?” Dustpelt asked.

Sandstorm didn’t answer him. She looked back at Fireheart. “Come here and tell me if this smells familiar.”

A little nervous for reasons he couldn’t name, Fireheart obeyed and caught up to her. She gestured for him to sniff the grass, which he did. The wet earth did not mask the scent here, and Fireheart blinked.

“Who’s that?” Sandstorm said, in a lead.

Fireheart raised his head. “That’s Greystripe.”

“Why is he right on the border like that?” Sandstorm’s voice turned testy.

“Oh—” Ravenwing took a step forward, managing not to cringe when Sandstorm turned her frown his way. “He’s been the one bringing prey to RiverClan lately. He– he must have stayed here for a while to make sure they got it.”

Dustpelt huffed irritably. “That would be why he’s been out so much, then, I suppose. I thought Fireheart was supposed to be helping.”

“He just didn’t need me, I guess,” Fireheart said, a little claw tapping at the back of his mind. “It’s just been him.”

“There’s more of him up here,” Sandstorm called, further ahead. “He really likes to linger by this border.”

“We do have friends in RiverClan.” Fireheart trotted to catch up to her. “And, well, they are a little chatty.”

“No kidding,” Sandstorm muttered.

“He’s making this whole place smell like him.” Dustpelt marked on a tree next to the first Greystripe-spot. “Tell him to quit lingering for conversation and get back to work.”

Sandstorm grunted approvingly. “And I can smell your ‘friends’ all over here, too. Just as much of a stink as their whole Clan.”

“They aren’t bad,” Fireheart protested before he could think. “It’s always a fun conversation with them. And they really are grateful for our help.”

“They better be,” Sandstorm growled. “Taking up enough of our resources as it is.”

Fireheart started to raise his voice, then stopped himself, took a breath, and said calmly, “Only prey from the Houses comes here. We’ve never dropped off ThunderClan catches.”

Sandstorm gave him the stink-eye, but didn’t respond.

“Whatever prey comes here,” Dustpelt said, “he should be hunting for us just as much as for these fish-faces. I hope you are, at least, if you’re not hunting there.”

Fireheart blinked at him. “Of course. That’s really all I’ve been doing since he called me off. I haven’t been on any patrols in a long time.”

Dustpelt’s eyes rolled for just a moment, but there wasn’t as much of a bite to his words as Fireheart usually expected. “You’re too friendly for them, is why.”

“I’d rather be friendly than chase anyone off,” Fireheart said with a firm nod.

Sandstorm grumbled. “Yeah. We know.”

“It’s worked out for us so far!”

“Name one thing that ‘worked out for us’.”

“Yellowfang.”

Sandstorm didn’t respond to that. Fireheart reprimanded himself for his little spark of glee at having silenced her.

Instead of goading her, he went ahead of her and sniffed. No further signs of Greystripe, though there was plenty of RiverClan. Trying to pick out a specific cat was impossible; they all smelled like fish.

Why should I be sniffing for a specific cat? he asked himself, frowning.

Right as he had that thought, Ravenwing caught up to him, saying quickly, “Here, come help me up ahead with these trees.” The look in his eye was a cue, and Fireheart took it, following him until they were a good distance away and Ravenwing could speak to him without being overheard, which he did quickly.

“I think I know what Greystripe’s been doing,” he whispered.

Fireheart’s eyes widened as he leaned in a little. “Yeah?”

“I just have one question, first.” Ravenwing pointed his nose at the ground. “Can you pick out any of your friends in RiverClan by scent?”

“I was actually just trying to do that,” Fireheart said. “I have no idea why, it just came to me.”

“I can think of why.” Ravenwing’s eyes narrowed—and, to Fireheart’s slight alarm, anger rose in them. “We’re following Greystripe tomorrow.”

Fireheart’s stomach twisted a bit. “What are you thinking?”

“Let’s get this patrol done and hunt on our own,” Ravenwing whispered. “I’ll tell you later. But I’ll say now that if I’m right, we’re in for a lot of trouble.”

[chariaki]

Boop boop

- Haikyuu headcanons!!! {fluff!!}

Osamu Miya

Clingy af.

Back hugs💕💕

You would be reading your book as you're seated on his lap while he hugs you from behind, his chin resting cozily on your shoulder as he glances at the book you're reading.

Of course Osamu cooks delicious meals!! While cooking you would also hug him from behind as you praise his chef skills. You of course are his protégé and his assistant in the kitchen, handing him the ingredients and utensils he needs, while also giving mental support for his recipies~

And when both of you are bored you always have lots of activities you can choose from!! Such as picnics in the park, playing in the playground while elders give you both odd looks bc of your child likenesses 🙉, even trips domestically and internationally!! Both of you are cute travel buddies~

Midnight drives with you guys' playlists playing and packed onigiris and chips and biscuits ! Just randomly driving wherever the wind takes yall.

I feel like y'all as a couole stereotype would be like, when outside wandering around, you'd be the cute, goofy and cheeky gal and osamu would look a lil bit intimidating, especially to boys who steal glances at you, but ofc he is a big soft and cuddly baby when it comes to just the 2 of you ><

Boopable face. Like literally sometimes you would wake up earlier than him and youd see him cuddling you tightly on your side, his head sweetly placed on your chest, arms dangling on your tummy. You boop his cute nose. Ruffle his messy bed hair and soothe his lips and cheeks, stealing pinches hehe.

Nishinoya Yuu

ACKKKKKK LEMME JUST-

THIS ADORABLE LIL 2D BEING 😭

"Y/n-chan!!!!" I can hear him say that always. Especially when he's super duper excited(as always too), with like the food you cook him, trips together- just the two of you. Always. Forever💕

His pouty face that reveals his chubby cheeks (squishable af.) when you dont give hime his attention ☹️. Like why would you not give him your undivided attention ? 😡😡😡

He also loves to you to double dates with his best pal tanaka and his wife kiyoko!!! The four of y'all are best buddies and are there for each other when one of you get into a couple fight.

I can also imagine tanaka and nishinoya having tons of convos to each other just all about simping for each other's lovers, tanaka would be so energetic and red and scream at tanaka about how beautiful kiyoko is in and out and Nish would be all excited and have these sparkling eyes and scream back at tanaka, talking all about how nishi finds yoy so attractive.

Loves to drag you into practicing his volleyball skills with him, so he can polish them and also flex them to you :DD

You guys always have fun together and hype each other up, but of course in every relationship, you not only share the good moments but also go through the hard ones--together. It you and him against the problem. Always.

He brightens you up, you're damn sure he is your light. Becahse obviously, he makes everything better and guides in darkness. But for him, he thinks that without you anymore, he wouldn't even bother or be the light he is everytime he is with you.

Because that's what a relationship is, give and take. It is never give or take. There's a huge difference. And i- as your narrator and/or author is proud to say that you both understand that.

Welp that's it fellas. Thank you for taking yoyr precious time to read me and my post. If you have requests you can always tell me, and I'm sorry for taking such a long break from all this 😓, came back and i still am not quite sure how tumblr works yet heheheeh

BUT, y'all better better stay healthy and safe.

💕🌼 With love and comfort,

Chariaki.

[jane-gunson123]

Tongue tied

Your ex, Trent Alexander Arnold and brother, Jordan Henderson both play for Liverpool and at the celebration after they win the premier league, you are forced by not only yours and Trent’s brother but a medalling Scotsman to talk.

T.A.A master list

Footballer masterlist

main master list

talking had never been your strong point, even when  you were little you refused to talk about your feelings, maybe that’s why your relationship never worked, or maybe that’s why your relationship with Trent worked so well because he was the same or maybe that’s why it didn't work because you didn't talk about your feelings. 

That doesn’t matter anymore though because your not tougher now and you have to put your feelings that may or may not resurging for Trent behind you and support your brother through the biggest win of his football career so far, winning the premier league. 

Jordan had lifted the trophy and instead of watching your brother like you should of been doing, your gaze was fixated upon a certain number 66, his smile and the pride radiation from him changed something inside of you, you wanted to be their to hug and congratulate him as his girlfriend like you should of been.

your relationship had ben very public, not by choice but with your career as an actress taking off and Trent as Liverpool’s newest wonder boy the public craved photo of the two of you. It never bother Trent, not like it did you, the pair of you couldn’t go anywhere without being swarmed by paparazzi.

The after party was the worst, Trent hadn't know you were going to be there but from the moment his eyes landed upon you, he was transfixed, he wasn’t over you and it was no secret in the Liverpool dressing room, even your own brother knew but was sworn to secrecy by Trent.

“Y/N, good to see ya lass,” Andy shouted, next to your ear.

“Okay, I'm not death Robbo, I can hear ya. How are you? I’ve not seen ya for ages.” Y/N spoke back, a broad Mackem accent as clear as your brothers.

“I’m good Y/N/N, Rebecca was looking for you.” Andy replied.

“I’ll go look for her now, Thanks Robbo and congratulations.” Y/N said before walking off,

Andy however, tonight wasn’t quite done. To be frank, he was sick off Trent complain about Y/n. He was sick of the longing glances Trent would do when he thought no one was looking and by catching your brothers eye he could tell he felt the same.

“Please tell me your thinking the same,” Andy asked, approaching Jordan.

“I divin’t think I can take much more of his whining about me sister, it’s driving me nuts, they both are, all she asks is ‘how is Trent doing’ ‘has he got another women yet’ ‘Are you sure he’s okay’” Jordan imitating his sister’s voice.

“Please tell me your planning on getting Y/N back with Trent.” Trent’s brother questioned, walking over to the pair.

“Obviously, I don’t think i could take much more of either of their whinging, to be honest.” Jordan replied. 

“But how?” Trents brother asked.

“I’ve got an idea.” Andy said, a cunning smile printed on his lips.

“Let me get this straight you want to look my brother and his sister in a cupboard together and not let them out.” Trents brother questioned, concerned to sat the least.he thought you might kill each other trapped in a confined space together.

“Can we leave them their forever?” Jordan asked, not the slightest bit bothered.”What, make my life easier.” He said,noticing Trents brother’s eyes widen.

After a lot of convincing from her brother and mother, Y/N agreed to help look for her brothers boot. “Yeah, Y/N/N, I’m sure i left it in this cupboard, have a look will ya.” Jording said, pushing his sister in the cupboard.  

“Why is it in a cleaning cupboard, Jord?” Y/N asked, caught off guard by an even more confused Trent already in the cupboard, having been told the same story a mere 30 seconds earlier by Robbo and his brother about andy losing his boot. 

smiling awkwardly, Y/N spun around only to have the door slammed shut in her face by her brother and his mealing team mate. “Open this door right now, Jordan.” Y/N screamed.

“I’m good, Y/N/N.” Jordan replied, “Have fun.”

“I’m gunna kill him,” Y/N said, her had pressed up upon the door.

“I’ll help you.” Trent replied. It was the first time she had heard his voice in person since their split. They never ended on bad terms, they just sort of fell apart and both were to stubborn to talk to each other again. 

“Great,” Y/N scrunched her nose up, something witch Trent always loved. Whom was he trying to kid, he still does. 

The pair both stared at each other. Neither making a sound. Y/N was scared if she did she would cry and never stop. She had never allowed herself to cry over Trent ever and no all that built up emotion was ready to explore out of her.

After a long awkward silence, Trent couldn't take no more, “I’m sorry,” He apologised. “I never meant for us to fall apart like we did, Y/N/N.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too.” Y/N quitely admitted, looking up at Trent.

He could see the tear threatening to fall and he swore his heart was more broken now than i had been ever, “Don’t cry cos of me.” Trent said raching his hand up to rest his palm on her cheek using his thumb to wipe the tears away. “Y/N, I still love you and I don’t think I could ever stop. We have tried to be apart and it has made us both miserable so please take me back, let us try again, Y/N/N. 

“Trent, I could never stop loving you, even if I wanted too, and trust me I’ve wanted too but I can’t,” Y/N confessed.

“Well then what's stopping us trying again, we can take it as slow as you want us to, but please take me back.” 

“We have to take it slow, I don’t want to rush into things but I want you.” 

“I love you, Y/N, I always have and always will.” Trent confesses, laying his forehead against Y/N’s.

“I love you, Trent.” Y/N said before connecting their lips is a slow but loving kiss. They fit together like a missing pieces and Trent wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“How do we get out off here?” Y/N asked, making Trent laugh.

“Jordan, Robbo, you can let us out now, we are taking again.” Trent shouted.

“took you long enough, I’ve been stood here 45 minutes,” Robbo shouted opening the door. 

“Right come on, me mam want to see yas,” Jordan said looking at you both. 

Trent said nothing, he just looked at you and smiled, picking you up to carry you across the room to your mother.

“Well that worked well.” Robbo exclaimed.