#rot answers and elaborates

[rot-decay-erosion]

Omg rot I think we’re on the same time :0

HELL YEAH!!! Idk where tf you are tho, I’m a Canadian

[kylopen]

Yes, My lord?

18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: Brain rotting SMUT, barely any plot, reader is 1 month pregnant (you could probs imagine she is not if you really wanted to) Mentions of body insecurities, super fluffy, Anthony is so whipped for Y/N. Borderline pregnancy/breeding kink? switch reader, switch Anthony. unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it guys.

Summary: Since finding out you are pregnant Anthony simply cannot keep his hands to himself, and when you turn the tables his arousal runs wild.

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton X Reader

Masterlist

Length: 1.8k words

Note: I could NOT get this scenario out of my head, i had to get this written and published *sobs*

----

"That was a rather delightful evening"

You smile as you and Anthony ascend to your bedchamber for the night. The two of you had planned a ball to tell your family and friends the news of your pregnancy. The night was filled with laughs and joy from the family, excited about Anthony's first child with you.

The two of you approach the door and Anthony opens it for you, ushering you inside.

"Indeed, dear wife."

Anthony's eyes crinkle lightly at the sides as he smiles at you, approaching you from behind, fingers expertly undoing your corset. You sigh in relief, goosebumps on your skin at the feeling of release from your day clothes. Turning to face him you also begin to help Anthony from his clothes as he laughs lightly at your eagerness to help him.

Now nude in the middle of the room, Anthony looks you over in the faint candle light, his hand softly moving along the curves of your body. He follows closely behind as you perch yourself at your vanity, ready to take out your elaborate hairstyle. Anthony's hand gently pushes yours away from your head as he begins to take it out for you, looking at you through the mirror. His gaze was intense but loving, his eyes trained thoroughly on your flustered response to the intimate gesture.

"Look at me"

The sentence was commanding but gentle. You lift your eyes and he reaches for the hairbrush just beside you on the table. he begins slowly brushing your hair, gently getting rid of any knots or tangles. Anthony was always a gentle lover, but immediately after finding out you were carrying his child he became dead set on helping you with what he could. His tender nature shining through as he aids you in your bedtime grooming process. The feeling of his hands softly grazing your neck as he brushes has you in a trance, the soothing feeling of knowing you are safe and well taken care of my a man that loves you.

He begins massaging your scalp carefully as you let out a hum of approval. Anthony lets out a quiet laugh as he watches the bliss form on your face.

"I love you, Mr Bridgerton" you tease his formal name.

"Likewise, Mrs Bridgerton, I will love you for the rest of my life"

Butterflies flutter around in your stomach as you realise just how exposed the two of you are. Then it dawns on you, looking down at your puffy stomach, feeling as though you have already gained some baby weight. It had only been a month and you weren't even really showing yet. A flash of insecurity dances across your features at the thought of getting bigger. At this point, the Viscount could read you like a book and he stops his movements in your hair to lean down and kiss your head.

"Speak what is on your mind, my love"

You think for a second before answering.

"...My... Body..." you trail off.

"You are the most beautiful woman i have ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. Even more so now you are carrying our child."

You look down and pinch your widened hips, and in response Anthony moves your hand away, caressing you. He then grabs your hand, pulling you up to stand with his chest touching your back.

"There is nothing more appealing to me than my beautiful wife swelling with my seed..." his eyes darken at the thought as he begins to pepper kisses along your jawline and neck, lightly nipping and sucking and you shiver in his arms.

Heat rushes straight to your cheeks and in between your legs as you feel a solid length press against your lower back. You breath out shakily as he presses it harder against your backside.

"Anthony..." You moan softly, bordering a whimper.

The second he hears his name from your lips in such a tone he struggles to hold back, the heat in the room thickening with lust. He pushes you gently onto the bed and settles himself behind you, spooning you. His slightly rough hand glides slowly up and down your side, upper thigh to hip to shoulders. He caresses every part of your body paying extra attention to the parts you were most conscious about. You let out more whimpers from the intimacy of it all, your face feeling incredibly hot and you squirm under the touch. Your thighs squeeze together to relieve yourself in some way, only making Anthony smirk and his touches becoming more daring. His fingertips ghost along your nipples, but fall back down elsewhere on your body.

"Anthony... I am already-" you shudder as he passes by a particularly sensitive spot. "I am already pregnant..."

His laugh rumbles against your back.

"I am aware. That does not mean we cannot enjoy each others bodies hm, dear?" His tone was devilish as his touches become more bold. You flip onto your back and slightly part your legs with a pleading look to Anthony.

"So needy and impatient Viscountess Bridgerton" He tuts with a smirk.

Deciding to take matters into your own hands you launch up, planting yourself on top of him with heated cheeks. If he will be so cruel and tease you even in his aroused state, you would use him yourself. A look of surprise flashes across his face before it grows into an incredibly cocky looking grin. His body betrays him, as his chest rises and falls at a fast pace.

"What is this? darling wife." he cocks his head to the side, the same grin on his face. His eyes hold a fiery hunger.

"It seems, dear husband-" you adjust yourself just enough to tease his length and he softly moans, "That you enjoy your Lady wife taking control" you smirk, a new found confidence flowing through you at the look of your husband from above him.

He grabs your hips with both hands and grinds your core against him.

"My Lord" you moan, breathless, aware of what the title does to him.

"Y/N... I am warning you-" he begins to speak, using your name but you cut him off, pinning his hands above his head.

"Yes, My Lord?" You smirk at him as you lean in close, your lips ghosting his, only to pull away when he goes in for a kiss. You keep one hand holding his up as your other hand begins exploring your husbands chest, teasing him the way he was teasing you. Your finger lightly brushes against his groin before going up to his nipple, softly pinching the bud and a guttural moan escapes his mouth.

"How improper my Lord" you feign a gasp and he lets out a soft chuckle at your words, enjoying the confidence from his beautiful wife. The thrill and excitement from you pinning his hands above his head is almost too much to bare as he gets impossibly harder against your core. He couldn't dare say it aloud but the feeling of being at your mercy, a simple toy to you made his body weak. He could very easily remove his hands from your grasp and the two of you know it, and yet he does not move.

You plant hot, open mouth kisses on his chiseled chest, your arousal already coating his groin. he shudders under your touch and the wet feeling on his lower torso.

"You seem excited my Lord... Has something got you so?" you cock your head to the side, feigning an innocence and he groans at the sight of the same woman he gave her first orgasm to have him completely at her mercy.

"I could ask you the same thing, My dear" His tease came across in gravelly voice that screamed he was ready to take you here and now.

His cock sandwiched firmly between his abdomen and your wet pussy, you begin to rock your hips back and forward, sliding easily. The pressure on your clit had you whimpering and had him moaning in a deep voice.

"You are going to be the death of me" he looks deep into your eyes as you slide him inside you, the two of you moaning at the feeling. The teasing you both had endured was very clearly affecting you both, being incredibly sensitive.

He watches with hooded eyes as you bring your hand to your clit and begin to stimulate yourself. He could have sworn he died that very moment at the sight. It was not long at all until you came, and he relished in the feeling of your cunt throbbing around him.

"Y/N" He moans, moving his hands to your hips, squeezing the soft flesh.

"Do you wish to finish my Lord?" You smile sweetly.

"Yes I do, my dear" His reply full of lust, and a hint of neediness.

"Beg" The sweetness was immediately replaced with cockiness.

The command was simple but powerful as you look into his eyes, holding his jaw with your hand. He felt a shock wave of pleasure shoot through his body.

"Please..." his flustered face was incredibly cute.

"You can do better than that" you move slightly, to tease the feeling.

"Please! Oh god please" you almost came at the sound of his begs.

"You are free to do so... My Lor-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he sat up, you still on his lap and inside him. His hands grasped at your hips as he bucked up into you, his moans coming out as grunts mixed with whines. Hitting up into your g-spot mixed with his needy grunts and thrusts you came again, causing his orgasm to reach its peak, he continues to bounce you on top of him as he spills his seed deep inside of you.

Anthony falls back, his face delirious and euphoric, yours looking similar as you flop down onto his chest, his cock still buried inside you, slowly softening.

Within minutes he snaps out of it, gently pulling you off him, and onto the bed, approaching a second later with a wet towel he opens your legs and cleans you up, slightly smirking at the mess and your flustered face. after cleaning you up he places a soft kiss to your inner thigh and crawls back into bed with you.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders and you move your head onto his chest, feeling exhausted. The room was filled with your soft snores in no time at all and he places a kiss on top of your head, a smile on his face as he looks at you.

"I am incredibly lucky to have you, my beautiful wife" he whispers before softly touching your stomach.

"And you too, my beautiful baby"

~End~

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Did kook Ford ever meet the twins. Sorry If you already answered this.

He does eventually! No worries, I haven't answered this before, and this ask is a perfect opportunity to talk about the mystery twins' lore while we're at it :)

Mabel and Dipper were put into foster care at a young age due to their parent's divorce; neither party being willing to take custody of the twins. Since there were no close friends of relatives who were available to take care of the twins (I'm going to put Sherman and his wife out of the picture for now since I'm not sure how to get around that plot hole), Stanley pulled some strings to adopt the twins, making him a legal guardian to them :) As far as the twins know, though, Stanley is not related to them in any way.

Stan tries his best to not to involve the kids in his mafia business, although, the twins are still aware on some level that their "uncle" is not exactly a saint, and neither is his "work". But they love him nonetheless.

Anyways, the twins get actually introduced to the lore way later. The adoption happened a while ago, and several years later the twins are 11 and bored during the summer holidays. Which is perfect timing for Stan, because he needs them out of the house and away for the time being while he's busy taking care of his "work". He doesn't want them to go stir crazy and start causing trouble, so he decides to send them away to some remote town in Oregon called "Gravity Falls", where there is the least amount of violent gang activity and is far, far away from anywhere under enemy mafia dominion (other than his).

Stan lets them go their merry way with a chaperone (Soos) to stay over at his Abuelita's house. He double makes sure the twins are looked after by hiring one of the locals who owe him a favor (Manly Dan's family) to watch over them. This is how Wendy comes into the picture (she doesn't play that big of a role but still) :)

The twins are understandably a little put off by the fact that their uncle just sent them away to the middle of nowhere, but they manage to befriend some of the townsfolk and even find a strange journal in the woods.

They eventually meet Stanford, the unstable old "town kook" that everyone in town has warned them about and adviced to stay away from, and befriend him. He's amicable enough, but he always seems as though he knows more than he himself realizes.

And you'd think this is all there is that Gravity Falls has to offer. Just some strange anomalies and even stranger townsfolk.

But, Dipper wishes to learn more about the anomalies in town, to which Wendy off handedly mentions how her father used to talk about an anomaly researcher that once lived in town. When they all go ask Manly Dan for more information, he refuses to elaborate on it, calling it "nasty business" that they shouldn't be getting involved with.

Obviously, being kids, they decide to get involved in it.

Dipper and Mabel go looking for signs of this so-called "scientist" around town, picking up more clues from what the townsfolk tell them. Until eventually, their investigation leads them to a shack on the edge of town, nestled deep within the dense woods.

The house where the researcher supposedly once resided is abandonned and decrepit. They explore its ruins, but end up finding more questions than answers in the endless sea of indecipherable notes; strange books; rotted specimens and morbid bloody stains. However, the biggest mystery of them all had to be what was hidden beneath the shack. Behind innocuous doors and rickety elevators that brought them down, down, down to a massive structure buried deep underground; the mystery behind this strange researcher seemed to grow ever more.

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Daryl Dixon w/ immune reader— 'we're all infected, why does it matter if you're the cure?'

Yandere Daryl saw your scraggly ass aimlessly wandering through the abandoned pharmacy he needed to raid. Walkers, five of em', and you fought them off bare fisted. Pretty badass, and fucking stupid, if Daryl has anything to say about it. You're bleeding from your neck more than any living person should.

A bite. You're bit.

No wonder you could care less if one of the rotting corpses bites on ya.

He wants to put you down like he should. He lines up his crossbow with your head, and like a deer caught in headlights, you flee.

Goddammit all.

Shouldn't matter anyway. You'll become another walker. At the most you got some gauze.

It had to be months again before he saw you on another run. There you are—banged up and just a lil more than skin n' bones, but there you are alive none the less.

Yandere Daryl admits to himself that it's the first time he's been intrigued by someone in a long while. Maybe that's why he's insisted on going on runs by himself these past few months. Maybe just maybe deep down he wanted to see you again.

It isn't hard to simply surprise you from behind and disarm you. He knocks you out and lowers you to the sidewalk. He doesn't see any walkers near, so he can check your wound out easy.

You still have gauze over it, but it has long since needed a change. It's drenched in fresh blood and covered in old. He unwraps it to see the damn bite. He can't tell if it looks better or worse now.

"Poor sap, what am I gonna do with you? Whats good a cure if there's no docs, only greedy men in this world." He tsks.

Yandere Daryl picks you up and carries you back to the group. He wraps a slightly torn shawl around your neck. It's one he found near the store you collapsed at. There's a reason you have been out here all these months.

You could'a just given up and died.

You could'a found a group.

Instead you found him again.

"Must've been fate, huh?" He chuckles humorlessly.

The way you looked at him. You're runnin' from somethin'. He just has to figure out what.

Yandere Daryl decides you're his to take care of. When he carries you into Alexandria, he doesn't let anyone else get their hands on you. He doesn't answer anyone's questions while he walks in and towards his house. He locks himself in and tells anyone that comes by to piss off.

Screw the rules and whatever the fuck.

You're a mystery that he has to solve.

So he grabs a change of clothes and some food for you. He plops them down on the table and sits in the opposite chair.

He doesn't mind waitin' for a while. It gives him plenty o' time to think. Somethin' in him is just stirrin'. He just can't decide what.

Yandere Daryl calms you down after you wake up. You can barely form words on those pretty lips and tongue of yours. Naturally, you question him and his motives. You're defensive and don't elaborate at first.

It takes just a handful of threats about exposing you and spreading around the fact there is an immune person to unravel your need for secrecy.

Somewhat.

You only tell him that you're being hunted by a group you were once with.

"Mind elaborating, hun?" Daryl draws out while looking over your figure for what feels like the thousandth time.

"I'll tell you—but I swear to God if you use this against me I'll stab you through the head a dozen times over."

"Fair nuff."

"They would—If you get bit and are injected with... well, enough of my blood then it acts as a cure..."

They fuckin' what?

Yandere Daryl vouches for you, and you end up in Alexandria. You get no ifs, ands, or buts about it. They assign you to his house. Daryl definitely convinced Rick that since you're a newcomer and you trust him more, he could keep a watchful eye on you. It totally isn't because there's this strange all possessing feeling that keeps latching onto his heart when you're around.

He keeps your secret safe n' sound. He manages to steal enough makeup from rundown stores to keep your healing bite covered up. He makes sure you are eating and getting healthier. He checks up on you before and after he gets done with a run. Hell, he reminds you of shit he forgets about all the time.

This does extend to him killing people to keep you safe. They looked at you wrong. Maybe one of the residents feels suspicious about you. They may even have confronted Daryl and questioned him. Oh, well. Just another one pushed to the biters.

Daryl has never had a strict moral compass. So he doesn't feel bad about murdering people who he is supposed to consider his neighbors.

Of course, those who came with him to Alexandria get the privilege of questionin' you just a bit. He's quick to shut that shit down, though.

Carol is the only one who is close enough to knowing that you are immune. She knows that Daryl has something more than platonic towards you. She also knows that you were injured with something that looked suspiciously like a walker bite mark when Daryl first lugged you in. (She snuck in and looked through your scarf while Daryl wasn't aware.)

She just isn't looking for trouble. She doesn't want to believe it, as it doesn't seem plausible. There have been too many false hopes from the CDC to Eugene.

So she let's Daryl foster his feelings towards you while watching out for you both. If Daryl ever oversteps a boundary with you, Carol will be there to knock him up side the head, call him a stupid redneck, and threaten him in the most motherly way possible. 

Yandere Daryl never saw you have so much terror in the eyes as the day he mentioned The Saviors. It clicked in his mind immediately. He has only felt that rage one other time in his life: when he learned Meryl had been handcuffed to the roof and left for dead.

He didn't think, but he acted. He held you and refused to let go. It's just so fuckin' unfair. He loses everyone that has a semblance of importance to him. Not you. Not this time.

His only thought was that he was going to burn every one of those fuckers to the ground—innocent or not.

[ssahotchnerr]

omg please part 2 off wishful thinking it was so good

we make sense, don't we?

thank you my sweet! cw; bau!reader, idiots realized <3, angst if you really squint, aaron pouring his heart out and FLUFF wc; 1k

part one

Saturday night had arrived; the sun was just beginning to sweep below the horizon. As a result, your living room filled with a comforting warm glow, contrasting the restless feeling your body currently held.

The thought had just entered your mind - you should've been getting ready for the date by now - but a sudden knock at your door interrupted your thinking.

Confused, you rose and crossed the threshold of your apartment. You opened the door, revealing none other than Aaron Hotchner.

"Oh," You blurted out, your heart picking up. "It's you."

You've never seen him like this; Aaron ridden with nerves. His eyes were somber, yet on edge. At first glance, they were desperate. His hands were buried within his pockets, and despite his nervousness, he didn't dare pull his eyes away from yours. "Can we talk?"

"Um, of course. Sure." You opened the door slightly more, allowing him the room to enter. "Come on in."

He thanked you with a swift nod, stepping inside. You closed the door, slowly, to fill the tense silence that hung over your heads, both of you figuring out what to say.

"What is it?" You leaned against the wall, crossing your arms across your chest. You were suddenly hyper-aware of your actions; should your arms be crossed, or was at your side better? What did your hair currently look like, after spending a rotting day on the couch, nose buried in a book. You nearly blanched at the thought, hoping you didn't look too horrendous.

However, while you contemplated your unkempt appearance, Aaron thought quite the opposite.

"I wasn't honest with you."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "About-"

"I don't think you should go on that date tonight." He confided earnestly, feeling nearly sick to his stomach at the thought. To be fair, he had felt similarly since the initial conversation on the jet. He could barely eat the past few days, his throat uncomfortably locked with dread. Regret.

Your mouth parted slightly, in surprise. You would've given anything to hear him say those words on the jet. But for now, your eyes only searched his for more.

"It's not my place to dictate what you do, and I'm not here to change your mind either," He honestly said, internally accepting the possibility his impromptu visit was for nothing. That he was truly, too late. "But you asked what I thought."

It took you a second, still soaking in his words, before you nervously queried. "What do you think, then?"

This is when he tore away his gaze - taking a moment to himself - internalizing what was due to be said and finding a sense of composure. He sighed heavily. Here it goes.

"You and me, we work, don't we?" He hadn't realized how frustrated he was until the admission left his mouth - his voice ached. He continued without waiting for an answer, his words flowing freely now that they've grazed the surface. "I don’t know about you, but I can’t pretend anymore. I can't keep pretending that there's nothing going on between us. I don't need to elaborate, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Right?" He took a step towards you. "We make sense."

"Then why haven't you asked me out?" Your voiced twinged too, partially at fault as well. You never initiated anything, either.

The empty hole that maintained home in the middle of his chest seemingly deepened, sadness brimming at the rim. "As cliché as this statement is, it's complicated. I'm complicated. It's... I'm good at shutting people out. You know how I am with the team, others, I prefer it even."

"But then with you... it's addictive almost, you're addictive. I don't know how else to put it. If I'm not near you, I have the utmost desire to be. You make me want to be open and vulnerable and as much as I fear I'd have a negative imprint on you" Like Haley. "I'm sick of allowing that to control my life. So I'm giving in to it, to be with you. If you'd let me, that is."

You blinked up at him, utterly speechless.

"Which, I'm sorry for coming over unannounced. Unfairly at that," An breath escaped from his nose, resisting the urge to clench his jaw in jealousy. "Before Cameron-"

"Actually," You finally found your voice, interrupting him and feeling lighter than ever. "He's not."

His eyebrows furrowed, a stern yet quizzically pull forming on his face. You could've sworn there wasn't a more adorable sight. "What?"

"I called the date off." You shook your head. "I didn't want to go, and the only reason why I even considered it was because I needed the distraction. From you."

There was an instant change in Aaron; his shoulders dropped, his face softened. Relief swept through him, he could breathe again.

"Truth is," You took a breath, bravely moving yourself closer and bringing your hand to his neck. You could feel his heartbeat racing underneath your fingers. "I've longed for you so much. So much it's almost embarrassing." You laughed gently, a faint blush appearing at your cheekbones. "Long story short, I've been holding out for you all along. No one is you. And it wouldn't be fair to James, you, or myself if I went through with it."

"Of course. Of course I feel it." You laughed gently, a sly smile tugging at your lips as your fingertips brushed against his skin. "Guess we've been on the same page all along, huh?"

"We're stupid, aren't we?" He laughed, his head leaning into your touch as your hand rose to cup his cheek.

"Definitely."

Aaron allowed himself to look at you, he wouldn't deprive himself any longer. He was free to fully admire you without the fear of being caught - no limitations. Lovesick.

"Are you just going to stare at me all night?" You quipped, a light tease in your voice and with just an admirable gaze at him in return.

"Maybe," He mumbled back as his smile resurfaced, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "There's something else I'd rather do, in fact."

Your heart skipped a beat, "oh?"

"Can I please kiss you?"

[vanishingcherry]

YN YLN and Charles Leclerc Take a Couples Quiz

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

author's note: this has been in my drafts for wayy to long, so ive decided to just finish it off and post it. im sorry lmao but i just couldn't watch this rot away in my wips any longer.

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

The video cut to you and Charles, sitting opposite each other in front of a yellow to red gradient, smiling at the camera.

"Hi! I'm YN", you say cheerfully.

"And I'm Charles"

"And we are here to take a couples quiz!"

You are handed a stack of questions from a person off screen, and turn towards Charles.

"Are you ready?"

"Is that the first question?" he retorts.

Your face drops, now showing slight annoyance but there is still a small smile you try to hide. "That's it. Minus 1 points."

"Oh c'mon! That is not fair."

You turn to argue but the video cuts to a different scene in which you ask the actual first question.

"What things do I have, of yours, that are my favourite?

He looks up in thought before chuckling and replying. "Theres a lot, you steal my stuff all the time."

You grin. "Yes, but what's my favourite?"

"My shirts? No wait! My bracelets?" He asks.

"Yeah!" you exclaim. Turning to the camera you add. "He gets so many bracelets from fans and they are all so pretty. We keep them in a bowl on our dresser so I like to take a few whenever I go out."

Looking back at Charles, you add. "You didn't know the answer, but you still got it right so I think you deserve half a point." The staff behind the camera gives you a thumbs up, noting it down for when they would edit the video.

"Ok! Next question- which song of yours is my favourite?"

He looks at you, his eyes widening with a confused expression on his face. He looks at the camera crew and then back at you.

"C'mon, I only have 2 it's not a very hard question."

"Then answer it." you reply, looking at him with a small smirk.

"Fine. Uh, AUS23."

"Wrong!" you exclaim, laughing at the way his jaw drops in surprise.

"Then what? I know its not Miami."

"Its the one you wrote for Baku." you slyly say, knowing fully well that he hadn't released it and you were possibly the only one other than him to have heard it.

You look down at the cards you had been given, reading off the next question. "What is the first thing I eat in the morning?"

You see his smirk growing in your peripheral vision and cut in before he answers. "If you dare make a joke, I will murder you."

He laughs at that, chuckling as he looks up to think. "Um. Breakfast? It's different things every morning, but if I wake up before her then I make cereal."

Noticing the evident confusion on the faces of the cameramen, you elaborate. "It's the only thing he's allowed to make without me present. The last time I let him cook alone, he burned the pancakes and half our kitchen."

Turning red at the story, he interrupts. "Okayy, next question amore."

"Which side of the bed do I sleep on?"

"Left."

"If I could get a tattoo of something, what would it be?"

"A bouquet of flowers. The flowers would be your favourite and my favourite together."

You are shocked at his response. "How did you remember that? I told you that ages ago!"

He smiles slyly to the camera. "That is why I am the best boyfriend, there is no need for these silly questions I am already the best. She told me so in be-"

"Right. Next question." You cut him off, eyes widening as you figure out where he was going with the statement. "This is the last one. If I could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?"

"Oh this is easy. Italy. You are always talking about how much you love it. But you also love Monaco and France so depending on how you feel, one of those three."

"Well.", you look at the camera, "I think that answer deserves 2 points." Handing your questions off to the side, you turn to Charles who has started reading the first of his questions.

"If I had a ticket to anywhere in the world, where would I go?" he reads. "This is similar to yours", he mutters.

"Home", you say confidently. "He's a mama's boy, tries to go back home as much as possible."

He blushes slightly before nodding to the camera. "Yup, 1 point."

"What was I wearing on our first date?"

You reply quick as lightening. "A shirt and pants. Very gentlemanly, I remember thinking, probably the best first impression I've had of a guy."

His eyebrows raise at the confession, cockily tilting his head in the direction of the camera. "You heard her! Next, what is something I hate?"

"A lot of things, Char."

"Is that your final answer, cherie?"

"Um." you pause. "Oh I know! When manipulate stuff that you say. It makes me really mad too. It gets really tiresome when they take stuff that Charles has said that turn into into a different story altogether."

"Thats true, I do hate that." He smiles at you, reaching over to squeeze your hand once to say thank you.

"How many kids do I want?"

"3, because you have 2 siblings. But, you said you want as many as I am comfortable with!"

"Of course, amour. You're the one whose going to be carrying them, your choice is more important here. What is something I get annoyed about?"

"Oh, when Seb and Carlos beat you at those Ferrari games you play."

His jaw drops in faux offence, shaking his head as he reads out the last question on his cue card.

"What is one my hidden talents?"

You look straight at the camera, not dissimilar to The Office. A smirk grows on your face and the lens zooms in. In the background Charles can be heard complaining.

"Oh I see! You can make these jokes, but I cant?"

The video cuts to the wider angle once again, you and Charles wave at the camera.

"Thanks for watching our couples quiz! I think it's clear that I've won."

Charles rolls his eyes, eyes shining with admiration and love for you. "Bye everybody."

Comments:

charleslover: OH MY GOD!! THEY ARE SO IN LOVE IT KILLS ME

ynandcharles: their facial expressions always kill me

username89: where do i get a charles leclerc bcs i will willingly offer all the money i have

doratheexplorer16: their love for each other hurts

[ijwtbap]

ㅤㅤ★ㅤA date — Bakugō.

— Bakugō x GN!reader

You go on a date with an explosive man. Why? No one knows. You're y/n, so just enjoy it and don't ask questions.

a/n. I just didn't want to study, so I did this.

You were going on a date with Bakugō.

 

Your brain couldn’t wrap itself around how this had even happened. One minute, you were lying on the couch in the common room, scrolling through TikTok while trying not to let the algorithm convince you to buy another useless gadget. Next, Katsuki spawned out of nowhere and stared right through your soul.

 

He didn’t ask if you were busy this weekend—oh no, that would have been polite. Instead, he hit you with a tone that could cut the air, as if you’d personally insulted his ancestors.

 

Still, you managed to mumble something in response, though you had no idea what you even said. Why was this happening? You weren’t friends—not even acquaintances, really. Hell, you weren’t even in the same social group. The only words you’d ever exchanged before this were basic pleasantries, only from your part, of course. Yet here he was, staring at you with the intensity of someone trying to solve a Rubik’s Cube in under a minute.

 

“Meet me at the train station at 8,” he said. Just like that. Not very romantic in your opinion. And then he left, as if he hadn’t just dropped the most unhinged plan on your lap.

 

Eight. In the morning. On a weekend. What kind of psychopath plans a date at 8 a.m.?

 

You were sure this man was about to kill you. You were driving yourself insane on that couch, overanalyzing every interaction before that day. Your thoughts are cut off by the sudden, almost unnoticeable blush on his ears.

 

You were 100% sure you were on drugs, and you didn't even know what they smelled like.

 

Now, here you were, resting your back against the brick wall in the middle of a street. You had picked your best clothing, the ones that were rotting on the back of your closet, that you swore you would wear one day, the right day.

 

And today was that day.

 

You keep looking around and checking the time, worried that this was some type of elaborate prank. You already knew some of the past behaviours of Bakugō. Thanks to Izuku, who could never shut up about the guy.

 

You picked up your phone, and before checking for the 70th time that you didn't come to the wrong place, a hand touched your shoulder. If it weren't for all the training and constant fights with villains, you would've gotten scared.

 

You turn around to see the angry expression of Bakugō, but at this point you knew it was only his resting bitch face. You put the phone away and faced him, expecting something to come out of his mouth.

 

"Hi?" You said, unsure of how to start a conversation with a guy as gentle as a cactus.

 

Mr. Explosions didn't seem to want to speak, so you did it for him. As he gave you a nod and started walking, expecting you to follow him. You fixed your hair quickly and checked him out.

 

Weirdly, you both were equally dressed up. He had good fashion sense: everyone knew that. But you felt like he looked a little better: he was wearing cologne, his hair was less messy, and the shoes were brand new.

 

He had tried, and so did you. It was an actual date; you couldn't believe it.

 

"Where are we going?"

 

Katsuki didn't answer you. He only handed you a ticket. Your eyes widened as you read it. It was a concert of your favourite band/artist; it was so difficult to get the tickets to it, but he had them.

 

You would've married his ass at that exact moment. He knew how to cook, had money, and bought you tickets to the best concert of your life. He was your husband already. You could skip the dating step altogether.

 

As you two entered the stadium, you felt your entire body bursting into excitement. Some were selling stuff, and others were jumping around to see every inch of the place. The air of happiness of everyone was so contagious.

 

The entire concert you didn't stop singing. It didn't matter anymore if Bakugō was there or not; this was a one-life chance. At one moment you even took his hand to force him to participate on the wave.

 

Afterwards, you were over the moon. You had bought some stuff to remember this day, Katsuki paying for most of it; he hadn’t let you refuse.

 

You were so happy that you hadn’t noticed how you two were still holding hands or how your leg was on top of his and his hand rested on your thigh. You were comfortable, and that was all you needed to know.

 

"Did you see [artist]? They..." You continue babbling non-stop.

 

Exhausted, both of you had sat on a bench in a park close by. The 'rest for a couple of minutes' had become hours and the morning, afternoon. One of your hands was trapped with his as the free one surrounded his shoulders.

 

You kept talking until you caught his eyes looking at you almost endearingly. It was a strange smile: sweet, soft, with his cheeks a tone more dark than normal. Katsuki was enjoying this, and you were too...

 

"What?"

 

The sudden realization makes you quiet, and he notices immediately. How could he not? You had been boring his ear off the last three hours.

 

You didn't like Katsuki. Not when you first met him and he woke you up with the sound of an explosion, nor when he fought with Midoriya like a maniac. Or that time when he kicked your ass during the festival.

 

You didn't like him at all.

 

You weren’t sure why you’d agreed to this date. Maybe it was because, out of everyone in class, he was the only one who noticed you were sick and told Aizawa. Or because he always made food exactly how you liked it, no matter how ridiculously picky you were sometimes. Or maybe it was this date, where he’d invited you to see a band/artist you loved, even though you knew he gave a shit about them.

 

Or perhaps it was the way he’d changed, quietly and without being asked, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Not for recognition, not for anyone else—just because.

 

You didn’t know why any of it mattered so much. You didn't know what it mattered to you.

 

“Next time, let’s go camping.”

 

Next time. The words slipped out before you could stop them. They weren’t a promise, not really. Just a polite response, something to fill the silence. Yet even as you said it, the words felt too easy, too natural, like part of you had already decided.

 

"Alright,” Katsuki said, his tone calm and sure, as though he’d been expecting you to suggest it.

1,137 Words.

ㅤ

[zeltqz]

— ✭ — 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 — ✭ —

-> SUMMARY. satoru's smart in many things, but when it comes to dating and relationships, he's lacking that intellect. somehow he expects you to always be there for him to patch him up.

-> pairing : gojo!satoru x nurse!reader

-> length: 5.7k

-> tags. nsfw+18 content, injuries (mentions of bruises, cuts and scratches), implied beef with suguru (i shall not be elaborating further lol), medical practices; stitches etc, gojo is fucking annoying lol, love him though, reader is going to grow grey hairs bc of him, implied fwb relationship, satoru ghosts reader for five months (not his proudest moment but plz giv him a chance), marks during sex, blood mentions, unsafe sex, creampie, nicknames

-> a/n: im currently having a gojo brain rot. its not funny and this is a cry for help. ps i have no clue how to do any medical practices so if you notice some things are off just...shh.... 🤫

Satoru strolled through the clinic doors, his shirt rumpled and stained with remnants of blood. From the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of an older woman clutching her purse and just opposite her, a mother grabbed her kids closer towards her and away from him. 

Ignoring them was easy, after all he was here for one thing and one thing only. He approached the front desk and the nurse behind the counter was tapping at her keyboard, head tilted towards her shoulder to balance her phone. 

“Ah okay, gotcha. Your appointment is scheduled for next Tuesday. See you next week sir!” she said enthusiastically before hanging up and looking up at Satoru. “Hi, how can I help you toda—”

Her eyes widened as she met his gaze. Satoru rested his elbows on the surface and smiled back at her. 

“Hey! Is (Name) working tonight?” He didn’t even get the question out fully before craning his neck to peek past the doors reserved for the nurses.

She hesitated for a moment, wondering if you’ll be mad if she answered truthfully. It was conflicting for her. She’s fully aware of your brief relationship with Satoru. Hell, all the nurses were somewhat intrigued and aware to an extent. The extent being you refused to tell them any personal details of the matter. The only things they knew was when you’d suddenly get a text on your phone and the next five minutes you were leaving early, you were with Satoru.

But that was months ago. 

His frequent visits and texts started declining over the last few months and by the lack of Satoru written all over your face and phone, they all just assumed you stopped seeing each other. 

Satoru examined her hesitation and came to a conclusion. “Ah. She is, isn’t she? So, where is she? The back?” He tried to sneak another look past the small vertical window allocated on the wooden door to get a glimpse of your hair or anything before the nurse stood up. 

She wasn’t tall by any means, but with the way Satoru was hunched, it lowered his magnificent height to something more manageable and she was able to block his view with her head. “You’re not allowed to look inside there.”

“Then stop wasting my time and tell me if she’s here.” His eyes flashed momentarily as he started to get pissed and it was enough for her knees to buckle and give way, dropping her successfully back onto her seat.

“S—she’s not—” 

Before she could even finish her lie, the sound of a door opening from down the hallway caught everyone’s attention. An elderly lady walked out of the room, holding a walking stick and a grateful smile on her face. Once she got a reasonable distance out of the room, she turned around to face you and bowed, thanking you for the help.

You held onto her and helped her down the hallway a bit before letting go and leaning against the wall, arms crossed and a satisfied smile on your lips as you watched her walk at a slow but steady pace. Her hand stopped trembling as much against the stick and you were just happy she was slowly improving. 

It wasn’t until you looked past the elderly woman’s head did you notice Satoru himself, hunched over the reception. Your fellow nurse looked at you guilty before sighing. 

Satoru stood up straight once he met your eye. 

“Oh hell no,” you muttered under your breath and quickly darted back inside the room.

It’s unfortunate you’re messing with Satoru Gojo of all people because he was faster than you and crossed the distance in the hallway before you managed to lock the door behind you.

You did however, manage to get it shut and used it to your advantage and pressed your back against it. 

Satoru sighed, the sound smooth and honeyed, knocking gently on the door’s window with his knuckles. “Lemme in. I’m injured, you know?”

You couldn’t help but feel flattered that he was only acting with you, pretending to give you the choice of helping him or not because you both knew he could easily have this door open in seconds and you’d probably be flying across the room if he had his way.

“That’s got nothing to do with me, Gojo. Please leave and make an appointment. If you need an impromptu surgery, please find a hospital. Not a clinic.”

“But you’re the best nurse,” he said, pouting.

You rolled your eyes. Yeah right. If anything they were all better than you. You only started working here recently, having a few months experience compared to years. The first time you gave him stitches, you had pierced him full of holes so much that he was even surprised he had a drop of blood left inside him, but he kept healing himself so you barely noticed the damages.

Another thing about Satoru.

He doesn’t actually get injuried. His injuries are nothing but an illusion he creates to get close to you. All the times he came in battered and bruised, nothing was real and if they were, they didn’t hurt one bit. But it didn’t help that he was such a good, charming actor that you couldn’t help but fall for his little game every time.

“I’m not the best nurse, Gojo. Now for the second time, if you need treatment, go to a hospital or make an appointment.”

“Gojo?” he questioned, sounding utterly confused. At first, he thought the sudden use of his last name was just a fluke on your end. But twice in a row? Nah, he’ll wait to see if you use it one more time before making a judgement.

“Yes. Isn’t that your name? Now are you going to a hospital or not Gojo? Us nurses have actual patients to attend t—”

The door was pushed open easily and he walked inside without a care in the world as you fought back the childish urge inside you to not stomp your feet on the floor and throw a tantrum. 

Satoru stood tall over you and it wasn’t until the ceiling light hit his face that you finally noticed the scratches on his face and cut on his lip. They weren’t hospital level serious but you couldn’t help but feel worried at the sight of seeing him hurt.

“What the hell happened to you?” There was no malice in the question, your voice filled with nothing but concern.

He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. “Got into a bit of trouble,” he said with a chuckle, scratching his messy hair.

You scowled and shook your head before holding his face in your hands to examine the damages. “This looks…managable.” You pull away after close examination and begin removing your gloves. “The nurse in room 405 upstairs can help with that cut.”

You turned around to throw the gloves in the bin and wished you saw the look on Satoru’s face as his smile fell at your words.

“That’s nice and all but I was hoping you’d help me with it. You know? For old times sake, yeah?”

“Definitely not .” 

“Why no—”

You turned around and poked him in his chest, hard, unaware of the big bruise under his shirt. 

“You ignored me for weeks! Not even weeks actually. Months! And now you think you can just waltz in and take advantage of my services? You’re so—” You stopped yourself when you felt yourself getting angrier and took a deep breath, taking a few steps backwards create some distance between you and Satoru.

Inside, you hated to admit you actually liked Satoru and grew fond of him. You weren’t one to usually let people into your hearts but he was an exception, and he just vanished. 

The first week was okay, you didn’t mind. After all the two of you were spending way too much time together on a daily basis so maybe he just needed some space? 

The second week, you were also…kind of okay with it? It’s a dramatic change to go from seeing and talking to someone everyday to suddenly have two weeks no contact. It was lonely but you just chalked it up to him being busy.

By a month it was just getting ridiculous at that point. Third month? You were pissed and swore up and down if you saw him around in public you’d claw his face out with your scalpels. 

Fifth month you had convinced yourself you had moved on. You blocked his number on everything and made sure he had no ways of contacting you ever, despite the fact you knew deep down you missed his touch, his kisses, his words, his voice, his dic—

“I’m sorry about that. I’m a busy man, you know?”

“It’s always ‘you know this’, ‘you know that’. Fuck —” You dug the heels of your palms in your eyes out of sheer frustration. “I don’t know anything because you can’t communicate with me! You were too busy? Busy?! Too busy that you couldn’t even open your phone and I don’t know, call me?! Text me?! I think even an email at that point would’ve made me satisfied. Not just radio silence Satoru .”

This time when you said his first name, it was filled with such emotion behind it. He could feel it from where he stood. You tried to keep your face as casual as possible but the eventual twitch of your bottom lip gave you away. 

“I know baby. I’m so sorry.” He took a step forward and tested his luck. You didn’t push him away or tell him to leave you alone, so he engulfed his arms around you, wrapping you into his chest. 

You refused to hug him back, standing eerily still as your face was suffocated between his chest. The scent of him was so strong that it almost made you tear up. Five months. Five fucking months of no Satoru was enough to drive you mad. You were so touch starved that you physically had to strain your arms in order to keep them at your side and stop them from wrapping around his waist.

“I’m so sorry baby. I mean that. I didn’t mean for things to get this far,” he murmured into your hair, holding you so softly almost as if you’re delicate. “But I’m here now, okay. Always.” 

He was met with silence. 

“Baby?” His heart skips thrice in his chest when he realises your hand rose to the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric for dear life as you tried to fight back tears.

Crying in front of people wasn’t something you normally did, almost hiding it late at night in the comfort of under your bedsheets. The tears were always so easy to flow freely during those times, but now it felt like your eyes were hot and stinging and you couldn’t control them anymore.

With his hand on the back of your neck, he slowly pulled your face away from his chest and lifted your chin to look up at him.

You were a silent crier thank god; the mere thought of you ugly sobbing and sniffing in front of Satoru made you want to end it all. He pouted and wiped your eyes with his sleeve. 

“Wow, I really had an impact on you didn’t I? Interesting,” he hummed.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck you.” You pulled away first and stomped over to grab some tissues. “I’ll wipe my damn face. I don’t need you.”

“You do need me though.” He pointed to the wet patch on his white shirt. “Clear proof!”

Now that your eyes are dry enough to see clearly again, your eyes wandered around the room, looking for something you could throw at Satoru’s head to knock his brain back into place. Your hands twitched into fists as you tried to control yourself again. 

Satoru noticed. “You know I knew you’d be mad at me which is why I got myself all beat up so you could poke needles into my skin.” Then,  he sighed, long and dramatically. “And people say I’m not thoughtful.”

“You’re not thoughtful. You’re an idiot with no common sense at all.”

“How else was I supposed to see you again?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Maybe call me?” You paused, remembering you blocked him. “You could’ve just come and seen me. You know, without getting yourself all battered? You can never think like a normal human I swear to God.”

That was what you loved about him though, his carelessness and recklessness. It only added to the excitement you felt when you were with him and the fact you knew whatever he did there’d be no consequences because he was the strongest and rules don’t even apply to him.

But Satoru doesn’t need to know all that.

Satoru scrunched his nose at your idea and shook his head. “Ehhhh I dunno. Too boring. This,” he alternated pointing his finger between the both of you, “is much better though.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Get on the bed before I change my mind.”

“Yes ma’am!” He strolled over towards the patient bed and sat down, kicking his legs as he stripped off his shirt. By the time you turned around to face him with the supplies you needed, you almost dropped them all. 

There was a huge bruise on his chest followed by more cuts and scratches running all down his chest. 

“Gojo! Who the fuck did you fight?!” Your mouth dropped open at the sight, pure concern written all over your features.

His eyebrows furrowed a little. “Satoru*,” he corrects, looking salty. When you didn’t waver, waiting for a response, he sighed again. “It doesn’t really matter who I fought. Just come on, patch me up,” he ordered, smiling boldly at you.

“Don’t tell me what to do. Answer the question Go—Satoru.” 

He smiled triumphantly at your words. “Suguru.”

It was almost amusing to him to watch you file the name and process it. It definitely sounded familiar, but you spent the last five months erasing everything Satoru related from your mind, so it took a little longer than usual to remember. But eventually you remembered who Suguru was and gasped. 

“Suguru?! What—why?!”

He shrugged and you could tell he really didn’t want to talk about it. “He just…did somethings that pissed me off so we fought.” He looked unusually serious for a moment and you could tell something deeper than that happened, but you weren’t here to be his therapist. So you didn’t pry.

“Okay. Well…” 

He waved your sentence off flippantly. “Don’t wanna talk about it. Seriously. Move on and fix me.”

“You’re not in the position to have an attitude right now Satoru. I can leave right now and have another nurse here to do this for you.”

That shut him up for a bit and you smiled in triumph that he was able to shut up for once. 

His eyes were on you the entire time. You grabbed a cotton ball and applied alcohol to it, dabbing away at the cuts gently before beginning to stitch him up. He winced at the sting of the needle going in and you looked up at him, concerned.

“It hurts?”

“Nah. Just uncomfortable. Keep going,” he responded, giving you the okay.

With his approval, you continued with his stitches and everything was going just fine. You didn’t feel as overwhelmed with the close proximity as much as you thought you would’ve. But the second you finished up with his chest and moved onto his face, you realised you might not be able to do this.

His eyes were trained on your face the entire time and they were so intense to look at. He grinned when he noticed you pause for a moment, as if trying to keep all your focus away from his distracting stare and you wanted to stuff the ball of cotton into his mouth to wipe his smug smile off his face. 

The bed was near the end of the room, meaning the light didn’t hit it as well as it should’ve, making it harder to see. So you had no other choice but hold his face up by his chin and continue dabbing alcohol on his cuts. You could see his eyes dart all over your face, from your nose, mouth, eyes, and everything you shifted backwards to grab something, those eyes of his followed.

His eyes lingered on your lips the longest, and in the silence of the room you swore the sound of your heart beating was loud enough for him to hear.

“Stop staring at me,” you said, pausing your movements.

“You nervous?”

“No. It’s just distracting.” You wiped some dried blood from his cheeks with a wet wipe.

“Not a bad thing to be distracted, Doc.” 

“It is in my profession, Satoru.”

Standing this close to Satoru had its pros and cons. On your end, it was easier and quicker to fix him up being this close and you were able to see and hold his pretty face. But he was also a major distraction, making your first point render useless as you couldn’t get the job done regardless if he kept looking at you like that.

For Satoru though, you standing this close to him was only benefiting him. He could see every inch of your face this close and if he really wanted to, could trail his hands down the backs of your thighs and onto your hips. If he really wanted to though.

“Okay. I see your point,” he hummed. “Distractions aren’t necessarily a good thing. But…”

“No buts! Fuck, you’re so annoying.” You pulled away to grip at your hair, wondering if you were truly frustrated enough to rip your hair out. You’ll probably regret it in the morning so you refrain from the thought.

“Would you think it’d be annoying if I kissed you right now?”

“Yes,” you responded back without waiting a beat. “Don’t even think about it.” You went back to work, tilting his head tot he side to see if there’s anymore damage to assess.

He took advantage of your focused state to lean in closer. “You sure?” His nose brushed yours and you couldn’t find it in yourself to pull away. 

You cleared your throat and jerked your head over to the camera on the ceiling near the end of the room. Satoru looked away from you for a moment to look at it. 

“Nice try though,” you said with a smirk. There was no more damage to his face, he was all stitched up and his cuts were cleaned. “All done. You can go home now.”

You stepped away from  him and let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. It was so intense being that close to him, your lungs actually felt peace the moment you were away. 

“Alright. Let’s go.” He stood up, shrugging his shirt back on.

You turned around and looked at him in confusion. “Let’s go? I’m not going anywhere.”

“You gotta walk me to my car. What if I fall and seriously injure myself?” He put his finger on his chin, deeply thoughtful.

Your face deadpanned. “If you were good enough to drive here, then you can walk yourself to your car. I’m not an escort.”

“What time do you get off?” he asked, ignoring your previous sentence.

“I dunno. Maybe midnight? Something around that.”

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and checked the time. Almost eleven p.m. “Alright. I’ll wait for you.” 

“What?! No.” You rubbed your forehead in annoyance. This dude was giving you a migraine. “Please just go home. I have my own way home already.”

“What. The bus?”

You hated his tone. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Why go on that thing when you could drive with me? You used to love my car you know?”

The fact that he was throwing what you used to be in your face like he wasn’t the one to ruin it made you angry. “And how many months ago was that, Satoru? I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah yeah.” He laced his hands behind his head and began to walk out. “We’ll see.” The door closed behind him and you stood in the room for a moment wondering if he actually left. 

It felt too good to be true. But after two minutes, you went out into the hallway and saw he was nowhere to be seen. With that in mind, you were able to finish working and leave on time, briefly ignoring your fellow nurses questions about what Satoru wanted.

By the time you exited the clinic, changed out of your nurse scrubs and back in your casual attire, you were on your way to the bus stop down the street when you saw the only car left in the parking lot was still there.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You hated how you could see Satoru’s white hair in the drivers seat, his head hung low as he looked at his phone. He was distracted and this was your chance to make an escape for the bus stop without him noticing.

You managed to make it out of the car park and on the way to the bus stop in peace, earbuds in your ears with music playing softly. But that wasn’t enough to stop the loud honk of a car beside you. He was driving beside you at a slow pace with the passenger side of the door wide open.

So careless.

He had it wide open as if he knew you’d get in.

So conceited.

Part of you wondered if you made a run for it, would he speed up and eventually have the door hit a pole? The thought of that made you laugh but you came to a stop and looked at him. 

“Your door is open.” You stared blankly at him, stating the obvious.

He acted surprised and gasped as if the revelation shocked him. “Really? Wow. Maybe you should get in so I can close it?”

You looked at the bus stop which was only down the road. It’ll take 45 seconds max to reach it. But you could practically feel the warmth radiating from the inside of his car and fell to temptation. 

He grinned wide as you stripped your bag off your shoulders and slid into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind you. “Atta girl,” he commented before speeding off.

It took everything in you to not glance over at him the entire ride. Something itching deep inside you that made you just want to peek at him once, but you knew he’d never shut up if he caught your attempts. He’d probably go on a long ramble about how he’s not surprised you couldn’t get enough of his pretty face and the thought made you want to gouge your eyes out. 

Instead, you decided to peek out the window and try get a glimpse from his reflection. The car was speeding past so many streetlights at once making it somewhat easier to grab a solid reflection. 

Staring at Satoru driving was one of your favourite things back then. He always looked so calm, one of those rare moments when his face wasn’t fixed in a smirk. His face was relaxed and he’d keep his pure attention on nothing but the road. Of course that made you determined to see what you could do to break that concentration, like holding his spare hand that wasn’t on the wheel, playing with his fingers and rings, or even (in the severe cases) going down on him just to hear him groan whilst struggling to maintain that concentration.

You knew deep down Satoru would never let the car crash, so it allowed the both of you to be reckless. A smile fixed on your face as you remembered those moments and before you knew it, the car came to a stop.

Outside his house.

“And we’re here!” He stopped the car engine but kept the lights on, allowing him to look at you better and man, your reaction was worth it.

“Huh? This isn’t my house Satoru.”

“It’s not?” He looked around before gasping. “Oops. Guess you’ll have to stay the night then.”

Ten seconds passed where you both just stared at each other, not speaking, just the sound of the crickets outside adding to the awkward silence. 

“I’m walking home.” You grabbed your bag and made a move to exit the car before he locked the doors. You struggled with the door handle for a second before glaring at him. “Open it.”

He sighed, loud and bratty; practically throwing his head back against the headrest. “Can’t you see I’m trying here? What else do you want me to do man?”

“Maybe leave me alone, Satoru. It’s been five months. You clearly wanted nothing to do with me, now I’m returning the favour.”

“That’s not it though. Just…fuck. Please? Give me a chance.”

You shifted in your seat until you were sitting down again, looking dead straight at your hand in your lap as you began thinking. “...why now Satoru? Why today of all days? Why five months later, when I already let everything out of my system. Why did you choose to come back now when you had so many chances?”

He shifted forward, resting an arm on the steering wheel and resting his forehead against it. He shrugged. 

“Honestly I don’t know. I just…didn’t think things through I guess until it was too late. At first, I was scared. I was spending too much time with you and it wasn’t like me. The anxious feeling I felt was because I was experiencing these new feelings because of you.  So as a deflection, I stupidly convinced myself that you were busy, being a nurse and all and that was enough conviction I needed to convince myself to stop texting you, waiting for you to make the first move. You never did though, so I assumed you genuinely were busy. So I waited. And waited. And waited…but you never texted back. Then the fear I was feeling initially was just me coming to terms to the fact that…I liked you. But by the time it took me to realise, I found out I was blocked.” 

He sighed again and sat back upright, resting his head against the headrest again and looked up at the car ceiling. “I deserved that block though. It only hit me that I actually ghosted you five months later. And I am sorry for that.” He tilted his head to the side and looked at you, deadly serious. “But it never would’ve escalated this far if you just texted me first.”

“There’s no way you’re blaming this on me right now.” 

“I’m not. I just—fuck.” He pulled at his hair and sighed. “You’re right I’m sorry.” He flopped his head back against the car and reached his hand out over towards you. 

You hesitantly grabbed onto it and he rubbed his thumb along your skin, holding your hand tight. “You forgive me yet?” He raised your hand to his lips and pressed kisses against your knuckles, giving you goosebumps. 

You sat upright and leaned closer towards him, holding the side of his face in your palm before planting a kiss on his lips. It was short and to the point before you pulled away. “That answer your question?”

He looked at you for a moment before you closing the distance again, alternating between slow, sensual kisses and sucking your lower lip. You scramble out of your seat and he’s eager to lift you up and plop you down on his lap. 

Your hands laced between his hair as you pressed your entire body against him. His hands on your body caressed every inch of skin he could grasp, digging his nails into your waist as your tongue invaded his mouth. He winced when you went to undo his buttons and you pulled away, remembering his injuries.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry ‘Toru.”

He chuckled. “Nah, it’s not a problem.” He couldn’t help himself and pecked your lips again to wash away your concern. “In fact wait.” He unlocked the car doors and told you to get out. He grabbed your things for you and held onto your hand, leading you into his house.

Your bag, his things ended up scattered on his living room floor as he carried you up to his bedroom. You were laid flat on his comfy bed, head rested against his soft pillows as he hovered on top of you, keeping a little gap between both your chests to avoid further pains.

You graciously accepted him with open legs, locking them around his waist as he kissed you as passionately as he could. His fingers roamed all over your skin, peeling your clothes away and examining your body, naked and vulnerable beneath him.

The two of you barely spoke the whole time, too busy focusing all your energy into just enjoying the moment, the feeling of your lips against each others, the slide of your hands down his back, the caress of his hands along your waist. 

His lips attached to your neck like a leech, sucking until the blood rushed to the surface as his fingers went rampant between your legs, fucking in and out of your wet pussy, his thumb circling your clit. 

Your moans were heaven to his ears. He couldn’t wait to see your eyes cross when he sinks into your pussy. The image stayed in his mind as he quickly pulled his fingers out and switched your positions. He laid flat on his back and adjusted you on his lap.

You reached behind yourself to grab at his hard cock and pumped it a few times before shifting it underneath you. His cock slipped into you easily but the rest was hard, sinking down was painful, his cock carving its way into your pussy. 

You had an iron grip on his arm as he held your hips, your nails digging and leaving marks into his flesh. It hurt but it hurt so good. Satoru rolled his hips up to help you sink down, each roll pushing his cock further inside. It took longer than it should’ve for him to bottom out, but the second he did, you collapsed on his chest.

He winced again but the pain was worth it. Your arms wound around his neck and he began rocking you back and forth against his cock. 

“That feel good?” he questioned, his voice right beside your ear sending tingles down your spine.

“Mhm-mhm.” You bit your lip hard before sitting upright, resting your arms against the headboard for balance as you created your own rhythm. His chest was too injured for you to hold onto it, so the headboard was the next best bet. 

He hissed when you started bouncing like your life depended on it, his grip on your hips and waist becoming even tighter. “Fuck— don’t stop,” he gritted out, low grunts spilling from his lips.

His breathing got heavier as you sped up, grinding your body above him in any direction you could, desperate to feel more of him inside you. He moaned loudly in your ear and the next thing you knew, your world was being flipped. 

Injuries aside, that didn’t stop Satoru from flipping you onto your back, his cock still nestled inside you and starting off a brutal pace, slamming his hips against yours. The bed kept smacking against the wall with each thrust. His hands had a death like grip on your hips, keeping you pinned down to make sure you take everything he’s giving you.

Your nails dug painfully into his shoulder blades, not able to do anything but just scream litanies of curses and his name as you felt yourself getting closer. 

“C’mon, please, fuck me Satoru—I’m ah—’m so close ‘Toru please,” you begged, bringing him down for another kiss. You bit at his lip before sucking the length of his tongue, a move that you remember drove him crazy.

“Scratch me,” he whispers against your lips, removing his hands from your hips to rest beside your head, keeping him upright. “Mark me baby I know you can do it.”

Your hands reach towards his back and drag your nails along his flesh. It stung so bad but he didn’t care. He wanted to feel it, feel every emotion pent up inside you for months and left as a red line on his back. He wanted it to scar, wanted it to be a reminder whenever  he looked in the mirror that you left that on him. That you were his now. 

The thought had him speeding up, plowing your body into the matress; your nails kept scratching, some lines even drawing blood with how deep you scratched. You reached a hand up to his hair and tugged and he lost it.

His hips stuttered inside you and his cock began to leak before he could even process what was going on. He didn’t stop steadily fucking into you as you came on his cock, as his cum began to fill your insides. 

He thrusted one more final time before his arms gave out, collapsing on top of you. His weight was more than you could bear, but that didn’t stop you from holding him as tight as you could. Your fingers ran through his hair, scratching lightly as his undercut as he took the time to catch his breath.

A minute later he was shifting off you, rolling onto the spot beside you before wincing again, the scratching on his back far too sensitive. 

You told him to sit up and then gasped when you witnessed how much damage you did. “Oh my god.”

“What? What?”

You pointed over to the mirror inside his bathroom and he slid off the bed and walked towards it, examining the marks on his back. You followed shortly after, standing behind him and watching as he kept wincing when he tried to touch it. 

“I’m so sorry—I didn’t—I need to cut my nails.”

He shook his head and rested his forehead against yours, looking down at you and smiling. “It’s nothing a nurse can’t handle.” He winked at before pecking your lips.

A few hours ago, the idea of patching Satoru up was enough to leave you grumpy for a day, but now it fills you with excitement. 

You can’t wait.

[shmaptainwrote]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — James has a huge crush on his labmate, the only question is how long will it take him to ask her out? (Answer: it's longer than you think)

WARNINGS — cancer mentions, patient death from cancer, drugs, alcohol (don't be mistaken this fic is tooth-rotting fluff)

NOTE — Okay this fic has come up from my compulsory need to elaborate on anything Canadian so if you ever wanted to see James at McGill, this fic is most definitely for you! Also I guess it's indirectly mentioned that reader was raised in Quebec, but obviously doesn't have to be "Quebecois" for this to work

Pronounciation — Jian = Chyehn

James chewed on the inside of his cheek as he walked up to the Stewart Biological Sciences Building on McGill campus. For some reason, it was so much more intimidating now that he was actually a student. During the tour he had his mother’s reassuring hand on his back, his father’s words of comfort that he would most definitely be accepted when he applied. 

Now that he had made it, he had to prove he belonged, but it could have been worse. His friends at Harvard and the University of Toronto had told him so. He was getting the best of both worlds, a prestigious school and, hopefully, not as much pressure as the rest of them. 

Without loitering any longer, he made his way inside and looked around to find the right lecture hall. It couldn’t possibly be that hard, could it?

After his first semester James had realized he’d made a few mistakes. One was living in a French speaking part of town without knowing a lick of the language, but that one was the easiest to deal with. The others were more in the realm of the amount of sleep he was getting and underestimating how much content the professors could shove down their throats in 14 weeks. 

He was more than happy to return to New Jersey for the holiday break to rest and recuperate before going back to the winter wonderland hell that was Montreal, but this time he was confident he would be more prepared. 

And for the most part, he was. He got enough sleep, partied responsibly (except Fridays, he partied hard then), always submitted his work on time and maintained his good GPA, making up for his poor fall semester. What he didn’t expect, however, was a distraction. 

When you walked into the room James watched you curiously, he thought maybe he’d seen you somewhere before, but he couldn’t quite place it. Besides, you were much more interesting than watching his sample boil for another five minutes. 

You came and took a seat next to him, taking out your safety goggles and lab notebook from your bag before shoving it under the table. 

“You’re sample’s boiling over,” you said, but James didn’t register you were talking to him at first, still looking at you in a slightly dazed manner before you physically pointed to the beaker, making his eyes go wide as he frantically turned down the heat and removed it. 

“It’s a wonder you passed the lab safely quiz,” you teased and James blushed. 

“Good thing I don’t want to be a chemist.” 

“Oh, and what do you want to be then?” you asked, preparing your own sample for boiling. 

“A doctor,” he shared with a little more confidence. 

“Any specialty in mind or just a doctor,” you said, doing air quotes over the word. 

“I’ve been shadowing some of the researchers in the Life Sciences Research Complex and I think oncology might be a good fit for me.” 

“Yeah, as long as you don’t have to boil cancer cells you should be fine,” you assured him. 

“What about you?” he rolled on the balls of his feet as he continued his experiment. “Or are you all talk?” 

“Pfft, you think I’d be here if I was all talk?” you asked. “No, I want to be a medical researcher.” 

“Maybe you should do some shadowing in the LSRC then.” 

“No thanks, I think I’ll stick to my job there.” 

“Your job?” James looked at your wish surprise. “Aren’t you like 18?” 

“Almost,” you smiled. 

“How did you manage to get a job there? They barely let undergraduates in the labs, let alone be responsible for anything.” 

“It’s nothing fancy,” you assured him. “I just do cataloguing for now, but it's a good experience.” 

“Still,” he raised his brows, “you must be like a prodigy or something.” 

“Again, no,” you shook your head. “Just someone who goes after what she wants.” 

There was a comfortable pause where you both took down your distillation set ups and began working on the filtration portion of the experiment. 

“So what’s your name, anyways?” you asked, looking over at him. “Hey, look, clamp it this way,” you demonstrated and he followed your lead, seeing how much more stable the glassware was afterwards. 

“Thanks,” he smiled. “I’m James.” 

You told him your name and continued your work again in silence.

Chemistry labs quickly became the favourite part of James’ week. 

Ever since that lab, James began to see you in all his classes. On more than a few occasions, he’d had to steal notes from his friends on account of forgetting to pay attention. It became an easy thing to tease him about, so his friends began calling him heart-eyes, because who was he kidding, he had a crush. 

“Get your head out of your ass, heart-eyes, I am not giving you my notes again,” his friend, Carlo, shoved his arm and whispered harshly as he could see him getting distracted. 

“Sorry,” James shook his head and began scribbling down what he had missed, his eyes darting back and forth from the board and back to you. 

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Pierre asked him after class. “Don’t you talk all the time in the lab?” 

“More like I stare at her and she says stuff to make it not awkward,” he cringed at his own actions. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Every time I’m with her I can’t string together a sentence, and– Jesus Christ you should have seen my face last week! Full on red, like I can’t even be subtle about it!” 

“Yikes,” Jian grimaced. 

“It’s bad, I know,” James assured. 

“And this is why we call you heart-eyes,” Carlo patted James on the back. 

“Yeah, say it a little louder, maybe she’ll hear you,” James said sarcastically. 

“Who’ll hear you?” the group of boys heard a voice behind them and all their eyes went wide as they spun around and saw you. 

“No one!” Jian was quick to answer in the least nonchalant way possible, making the rest of the group, especially James, stare daggers at him. 

“It’s not no one,” Carlo attempted to save face. “Just… this girl back in uh New Jersey that James’ got the hots for,” he gained confidence with every word of the sentence before adorning a smug smile on his face and patting James yet again on the back. 

“You’re afraid a girl in New Jersey will hear you?” you looked curiously at James but he just stared blankly at you. “So you call him heart-eyes?” you instead turned your attention to his friends and they nodded. “That’s cute, maybe I’ll call you that too.” 

“Sure,” was all a red faced James could get out before you excused yourself to head over to work. 

Pierre was trying very hard to keep a straight face while you walked away and James slapped both Carlo and Jian upside the head. 

“What the hell was that! Could you not have been more obvious, Jian? And Carlo, a girl back in New Jersey? Now she thinks I’m pining for someone else!” 

“On the plus side, maybe she’ll think all your blushing around her is a circulation issue,” Pierre shrugged. 

“You guys are the worst,” James shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, continuing to walk along the path to one of the libraries. 

“No, we just saved your ass,” Carlo caught up with him. “However terribly, but if we didn’t say anything you would have stared at her with your mouth open like a trout.” 

“Carlo does have a point,” Jian agreed, “At least we bought you a little time to get your act together.” 

James sighed, “You guys have too much faith in me.”

“You said that when I started to teach you French and you’ve come a long way with that,” Pierre said. 

“Yeah, sure I went from saying nothing to being able to say Je m'appelle James et je ne parle pas français.” 

“And what a handy sentence that is when you don’t speak French!” Pierre grinned and James couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head. 

“Okay, I’ll try and get my act together and ask her out…and learn more French.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Carlo patted his back. “Now let’s go get a drink and relax.” 

“Maybe after we study for our physics midterm?” James nudged his friend and Jian nodded his head in agreement. 

“Fine, I guess if we have to,” Carlo sighed. 

“Not everyone is naturally good at kinematics, Carlo. Take pity on us mere mortals who have to study,” Pierre responded, eliciting a chuckle from his buddies. 

James was quiet as he thought to himself. If he could get a B on this physics test, maybe there was hope for him getting his act together after all.

—

Summer break rolled around faster than James had expected. While Jian went back to Richmond, Pierre over to Quebec City, and Carlo to Chicago, James was left alone in Montreal, working to help pay his tuition for the next year. Being an international student was no joke. 

He would have gone back to New Jersey, but the positions he applied to in Montreal paid more so it wasn’t a hard decision to make. 

His parents would come visit him for some time in July, but for the most part he was alone. 

On late nights, he’d make his way to the McDonald’s in the neighbourhood, not knowing enough French to go anywhere else nearby. At least there, most of them spoke enough English to take his order, and if not it was really easy to point to the menu. 

“It’s already done?” he asked. 

“Give us some credit, hein. We knew you were coming, we had it ready.” 

James chuckled and handed him the money for the order, exchanging it for the bag which he took to a table and sat down. 

As he was pulling out his fries from his bag he heard the chime of the door and looked up curiously to see who was coming at this time of night. 

He stopped what he was doing when he recognized you, watching as you dug through your purse and spoke to the cashier in French. You both laughed about something James couldn’t quite catch and a little while later, after you had paid they handed you a bag and an ice cream cone when James heard you say something about ‘deux cuillères’ taking the utensils they gave you and turing straight towards James’ table, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down. 

“I thought you lived in New Jersey,” you said. 

James was still stunned that you had noticed him and couldn’t find the words to speak. 

“Hey, heart-eyes?” you waved your hand in front of his face. “You okay?” 

“Y-Yeah,” he nodded, distracting himself by pulling out his burger from his bag. 

“So why aren’t you in Jersey?” you asked. 

“Work. I got a job here, it paid better.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully while eating some of your fries. “And all your friends?” 

“Back with their families, unfortunately for me,” he nodded. “W-What about you?” 

“Oh, I live here,” you shrugged. “In this neighbourhood actually.” 

“You live here?” he asked. 

“That’s what I said,” you nodded. 

“And so that’s how you know French?” 

“Every kid in Quebec learns French, it’s kind of a non-negotiable,” you shared. “I gather that’s why you’re eating here.” 

“Yeah, Pierre didn’t manage to teach me enough before he left,” he sighed and started to eat his meal. 

“I could teach you if you want. I’m taking a little break this summer so I have some spare time,” you offered. 

“Oh, I don’t want to-,” 

“James, you’re gonna have a shitty summer if you don’t say yes.”

He couldn’t argue with that, it would be nice to communicate more with the people who lived around him. 

“Okay, sure, but I’m warning you, I’m a terrible student.” 

“I used to tutor one of my siblings, trust me it can’t be worse than that,” you laughed. 

You chatted a little more, finishing your meals but not before you handed James a spoon. 

“So this is cuillère then?” he asked. “I-I overheard you talking to Jean.” 

“Yeah, your pronunciation isn’t bad either,” you nodded. “Here.” 

You pushed the ice cream cone between you and began to eat it with the spoon. James had a bit of a sweet tooth and wouldn’t be one to refuse dessert so he began to share the ice cream cone with you. 

“So, are you missing your girl in New Jersey?” you asked and James cursed internally, trying to come up with a lie to tell you. 

“Um, no not really,” he shook his head. “I don’t think we would have worked out anyways.” 

“Oh, so are your friends still calling you heart-eyes?” 

He nodded his head, thinking it was better not to say anything in case he gave himself away. 

“It’s good that you recognized you wouldn’t work out before you asked her out,” you said, “Couple guys wanted to go on dates with me this year, but just didn’t seem like the right fit. Plus, I don’t really think I’m looking for anything like that right now.”

James nodded his head again, silently eating the ice cream. 

“Ever been in love, James?” you asked. 

“That’s a really loaded question to ask someone you cornered in a McDonald’s at 11 P.M.” 

You ignored his response and continued, 

“I haven’t, it seems like such a big thing, how would you even know if it was love?” 

James looked up at the ceiling, silently asking God to not let him say something stupid, 

“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first.” 

“So you have been in love,” you confirmed and he shrugged his shoulders. 

“I…I don’t know. Maybe I have.” 

“That’s not a very straightforward answer.” 

“Then maybe I haven’t. I feel like if it was love, you’d figure it out, eventually.” 

You pursed your lips and nodded your head. 

“I hope I get to fall in love,” you smiled softly to yourself. “Seems nice.” 

“Yeah,” James agreed. “It does.” 

—

A few years later… 

“So how did it go?” Jian asked, as they sat around James’ small living room. 

“It…could have been better,” James sucked in some air through his teeth, recalling a recent memory from earlier that afternoon. 

“What the fuck James! You scared the shit out of me! I could have broken the hemocytometer, do you know how much that shit costs?!” 

“Sorry!” James quickly apologized and dropped his books down on the nearest surface to help you clean up, making you look up again at him with disdain. 

“In the BSC? Really? Now we have to resterilize and all the specimens I have in there are as good as compromised.” 

“Shit,” James muttered under his breath, he was usually so much better in the lab, but the second he was with you he became a bumbling mess. “I-I’ll take care of the BSC, I’m so sorry.” 

You sighed and removed your gloves, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“It’s not just boiling water we’re dealing with anymore, James,” you said a little more calmly than before. “You’ve gotta be more careful, okay? I’m not losing my job over this.” 

James nodded his head and went to grab the things to sterilize the biological safety cabinet and grab the new specimen from the fridge. So much for trying to get a job at LSRC to impress you. 

“I was not built to be a researcher,” James shook his head. 

“I mean, it’s not that big of a screw up, you fixed it eventually, didn’t you?” Pierre asked.

“Yeah, but not until after a thorough amount of embarrassment.” 

“I thought girls found clumsy guys endearing,” Carlo commented. 

“Not when the girl is determined to become the leading medical researcher on the continent,” James sighed. “Maybe taking this job was a bad idea. From what I can see she hasn’t even changed her opinion on dating, she hasn’t been with anyone these past three years.” 

“Do you hear that?” Carlo removed his feet from the coffee table and placed them on the ground. “You’ve been in love with her for three years and haven’t done anything about it.” 

“Who said I was in love with her? And sure, maybe I haven’t made a move, but I learnt French!” James tried to defend himself, pointing to Pierre. 

“That’s not as good of a comeback as you think it is,” Pierre shook his head. 

“I know,” James hung his head low and sat on the couch between Pierre and Jian. “We’re gonna graduate in a year and she’s not gonna know I’m in love with her.” 

“So you are in love with her?” Jian looked over at his friend sympathetically. 

James leaned back and used the heels of his palms to cover his eyes. 

“He’s gonna have a meltdown, don’t ask him that,” Pierre shook his head. 

“God, I do love her!” he exclaimed like he was just finding it out for the first time himself. 

“What did I say,” Pierre sighed. 

“Can I make it stop?” James looked over at his friends who all shrugged. “I am so screwed.” 

“This time, I think we agree with you,” Carlo took a sip of his drink. “Good luck, man.” 

James squeezed his eyes shut, he would definitely need it. 

—

The year passed to graduation and James was still sitting on his feelings. It was much too late now to say anything. You’d already been accepted to a graduate program through your work with the LSRC and James had passed his MCAT with flying colours and was on his way to medical school at Columbia. 

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was going to miss Montreal, the city had grown on him during his time there and a part of him wished he could stay. 

His friends were also ready for the next stages in their studies, all going to different places across the continent to get their other degrees, with, of course, the promise to stay in touch. 

James didn’t know what the next little bit of his life had in store for him, but he hoped regardless of where he ended up, maybe he’d be able to make up for his missed opportunities. 

The years of medical school, once started, passed faster than James expected them to, and by the end of it, much to his own surprise, he’d also gotten married. 

You were almost all but forgotten in the back of his mind, but time continued to play its games. 

Medical school turned into a specialization in oncology, and a divorce. Then residency and a marriage. Then a second divorce. Then another marriage and more recently a position at a hospital in his hometown, on the board and a well respected oncologist and a few new friends…and a third divorce. 

“House, I’m not asking you to let them all sleep in your apartment, it’s just a dinner for one night, we’ll be out and about for the rest of the time that they’re here,” James sighed. 

“Can’t you just cancel?” House asked. “Divorce seems like a pretty good reason to get out of a reunion.” 

“See, the thing is, I’d rather not be miserable and see my friends instead, and they bought their tickets months ago. Please, House, I’ll do the dishes for a week.” 

“A month,” House said. 

“Two weeks,” James negotiated and House nodded, so they shook on it. 

“Good, now that I’ve done you a favour, you can do me one,” House smiled, but the kind of smile that was conniving, like he had something up his sleeve all along. 

“I paid you in chores for my favour, who says I owe you anything?” 

“Unless you want me to call your friends and cancel for you, you’ll do it,” House continued to walk the hospital’s hallways hobbling with his cane. 

“What is it?” James sighed, catching up with him. 

“We have a patient and he doesn’t speak very good English, but he does speak French. You went to McGill didn’t you? Must have picked up some of the love language.” 

“Unfortunately for me in this case, I did,” he nodded. 

“Perfect, come with me now,” House motioned with his head to the patient’s room and James trailed behind him. 

When he entered the room, House motioned for him to begin speaking. James hadn’t spoken a lot of French since his undergrad so he was definitely rusty, but he supposed it was better than nothing and began to explain that he would be helping with the translation.

“Erm, Bonjour, je suis Dr. Wilson, je vais aider Dr. House avec la traduction.” 

The man looked at James strangely before saying. 

“You’re an anglophone, but you speak French like you’re Quebecois.” 

“I um did my undergraduate in Montreal, I learnt how to speak there,” James responded back in French. 

“Hmm.” 

James could tell this wasn’t going to be fun. Some of the French held quite a bit of hate towards Quebec, who knew why, but his accent definitely wasn’t going to help him in this situation. 

House got James to ask some routine medical history questions and a few things about his symptoms all the while James had to filter out all the insults that were coming his way with regards to his “poor use of language” and “unintelligible accent”. 

When he could finally leave the room, James let out a string of French curses under his breath, still thinking in the other language. 

“House, why can’t you just get a proper translator?” he asked. “I’m terrible at this.” 

“Cuddy said something about making a big purchase recently and being currently unable to do so, especially since you put that you speak French in your resume. Bet you’re regretting that one now.” 

“Yeah,” James nodded his head. “Big time.” 

They began to walk towards the elevator to go to the cafeteria for lunch, when James decided to inquire more about Cuddy’s big purchase. 

“Oh, she said something about money this, medical research that,” House shook his head, “You know I stopped listening the second she wouldn’t give me what I wanted.” 

“She hired a medical researcher,” James said aloud, chewing on the words, “I wonder who she-,” 

His train of thought was cut off when he saw, near the elevator, a face he hadn’t seen since graduation day at McGill. 

Quickly, unable to think of anything else to do, he ran into the administrative area and hid crouched down behind a photocopier. 

House watched his friend curiously before walking over towards him and leaning against the copier asked him if he’d gone insane. 

“No, I just, um, remembered I needed to copy some patient files,” he lied. 

“You don’t have any with you,” House said. 

“I faxed them from my office,” he lied again. 

“I think I need to go get Foreman, clearly you’re having a neurological breakdown,” House said. 

“Can you just stop making it obvious I’m here?!” James exclaimed in a whisper. 

Unfortunately for him, as you were walking past, his harsh whisper made his location obvious, causing you to look down and see his familiar face. 

“Oh my God, heart-eyes, is that you?” you asked with a smile and James pressed his lips in a thin line and nodded. “What are you doing down there?” 

James became speechless and suddenly he was an eighteen-year-old back in his chemistry lab. 

“He’s checking to see if we need more toner,” House said, lying for his friend, but James knew that was all he would get out of him. “Well, that’s my cue to leave, you guys have fun.” 

You reached down and offered James a hand, helping him back into a standing position. 

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” you commented. “Like since we were-,” 

“22,” James filled in and you nodded. 

“Yeah,” you bit your lip before asking him how he had been. 

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I-I’m assuming you’re the medical researcher Cuddy hired?” 

“That would be correct,” you smiled. 

“Why did you choose to work here? I thought you were some big hotshot in Canada?” 

“I am a big hotshot, which is why I wanted to come to a teaching hospital. I thought maybe it would give more opportunities to teach other people what I know. It’s a win-win. I get to do what I want to and the hospital gets grant money from my research,” you explained. “It looks like you got where you wanted to be too, Mr. Oncologist.” 

“Actually it’s Dr. Oncologist,” he joked and you laughed, making his cheeks go red after hearing the sound.

“I missed having you around, James. We should catch up sometime,” you suggested. 

“Yeah sure,” he nodded. “I-I’d love that.” 

You excused yourself, needing to go introduce yourself to a class of medical students, waving goodbye to James, leaving him stuck in his tracks for a few moments before he could gather his senses again and head downstairs for lunch. 

—

“We could have rescheduled if this was too much, man,” Carlo watched James as he brought a large roast to the table for them to eat. 

“See? What did I tell you,” House rolled his eyes and James gave him a disapproving stare. 

“No, I wanted you guys to come, we’ve been planning this for months. I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of it,” he assured his friends. “Plus, we know how hard it is to nail down Pierre, I swear you are always travelling. Every time we talk you’re in a different country.” 

“That’s the life of a parasitologist,” he shrugged and helped James by beginning to cut the roast. 

“And Jian, how’s the wife and kids?” 

“They’re good,” Jian smiled. “Mei started first grade in September. Becky and I are both up for promotions at the hospital, so I can’t really complain. Although I think Carlo can.” 

“Seriously it’s not that big of a deal,” Carlo groaned, “Sure yeah, pharmaceuticals are more flashy than biophysics, but that doesn’t mean that my research wasn’t better.” 

“Well if it was better why did William get the award?” James asked and Carlo just flipped him the bird. 

“Didn’t we go to school with him?” Pierre asked. 

“We did?” James raised a brow. 

“Yeah, for a year, from Toronto, huge stoner. Hated being there and did literally no work, but still managed to get honours,” Jian explained. 

“Sounds like my kinda guy,” House commented and James rolled his eyes. 

Just as they continued to dish out dinner, House’s pager went off and he sighed, excusing himself from the table while practically threatening James to leave him some food. 

When House left, James’ friends saw their opening and began their personal line of questioning. 

“Hey, James, are you really okay?” Jian asked. 

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” James asked in return. 

“You’re getting a divorce,” Pierre said. “Seems like a pretty good reason to not be okay.” 

James shook his head, 

“Yeah sure, it’s a shitty situation,” he admitted. “Did I imagine myself at this point in my life with three failed marriages? No, definitely not. Can I do anything to change it? Also no, and right now I really wouldn’t want to change it.” 

“Can we ask what happened?” Carlo queried. 

“She cheated on me, then left me,” James said simply. 

“Forgive me,” Pierre said. “But you seemed a lot more upset when we talked over the phone last week. What changed?” 

James looked down at his plate and cut into his roast, thinking about what Pierre had said. It was true, even earlier today he was sulking about, that was until he ran into you. 

“I swear,” James started, “if you guys make a big deal about this I will murder you all,” he used his knife to point at all of them and they nodded, swearing their silence. “I’ve got heart-eyes again.” 

“You met someone new?” Jian asked and Carlo shook his head. 

“No, he re-met someone old. Tell me, did your hospital recently hire a medical researcher?” 

James nodded his head and the table was about to erupt into a loud chorus of comments when James gave them a look and they all restrained themselves. 

“James, I’m being dead serious when I say this, but you should have married her,” Pierre insisted. “I never saw you look at anyone else the way you looked at her.” 

“Probably explains the three divorces then, doesn’t it? I was still in love with her the whole time,” James sighed. “It’s going to come up eventually, seems like a pretty big indicator that I’m not good at relationships.” 

“Who knows, maybe she won’t care,” Jian offered. 

“What was it like when you saw her again?” Carlo asked, looking for any opportunity to tease his friend. 

“How do you think it was? I could barely talk, I was a nervous wreck, and blushing like crazy,” he shook his head at the thought of it. “I could literally feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. I feel like a middle school girl every time I’m near her.”

“Who knows, maybe she still thinks you have circulation issues,” Jian shrugged and the table laughed. 

“What I would give to stay here and watch this play out,” Carlo sighed and leaned back in his seat. 

“Knowing James, you’d have to be here for ten years before he made a move on her,” Pierre raised a brow and James threw a piece of potato at him. 

“If you ever do get the guts to ask her out, call us. We’ve made bets on this,” Carlo added. 

“Real comforting, guys,” James ate a bite of the roast. “I thought this was supposed to be my pity party.” 

“Not anymore,” Jian shook his head. “You’ve got heart-eyes.” 

This time around, James thought maybe he didn’t mind the nickname as much as he used to. 

—

“I would think they’d get you your own office at this point,” James commented as he entered his office, seeing you sitting at his desk, eating a pre-packed lunch. 

“Beats me,” you shrugged and continued to eat. 

“So you’ve decided that invading my office is your next best bet?” 

“Oh hush,” you waved him off with your fork. 

“Well, excuse me for wanting to come to a safe place after being verbally assaulted by House’s patient,” he sat on the opposite side of the desk and leaned back in the chair. 

“Verbally assaulted?” you asked. “By a patient who isn’t even your own?” 

“He doesn’t like the way I speak French,” James rolled his eyes. “I’m translating while they’re treating him since the department used all its money hiring you.” 

“What can I say, hotshots cost a lot of money.” 

“You know, you could do the translation, probably much better than I can,” he noted. 

“I could, but you probably need the practice more than I do, chèri,” you scrunched your nose in a cute mocking way and James could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks yet again. “You still keeping up with that posse of yours?” you asked, changing the subject. 

“Yeah, they all flew in to visit a few days ago, we’re gonna go out tonight,” he said. “Do you…maybe want to join us?” he suggested. 

“I don’t have plans, as long as they’re okay with it I’d love to come,” you smiled. 

“Oh trust me, they will definitely be okay with it.” 

—

Later that night, James was drinking deeply from his glass while he watched his friends stare blankly ahead at you. If he looked anything like they did all those times his words were caught in his throat, then he hoped to spontaneously combust right then and there. 

“Heart-eyes, I thought you said they were okay with me coming?” you leaned over and whispered to him. 

James put down his glass and nodded his head. 

“They are okay with it, right?” 

Snapping out of their daze, the three men nodded their heads and finally began professing assurances that everything was fine. 

“It’s just… you said James invited you?” Jian asked with furrowed bows. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “He mentioned you guys were in town and getting together tonight and asked me if I wanted to join.” 

James bit down on his tongue trying not to say anything, but also gave his friends a look to shut up before they gave anything away. He knew what was running through their minds, they were wondering how the hell he’d gotten the guts to ask you to come, but there was one fundamental difference between tonight and any other time he could have possibly asked you. This wasn’t a date, therefore, there was no pressure. 

“Maybe you could tell them what you’ve been up to since they last saw you?” James suggested. 

“Oh, um, well, I got my master’s degree and doctorate at McGill, both for research in cancer biology-,” 

“Cancer biology?” Pierre interrupted. “I don’t remember you mentioning you were interested in that.” 

“I-I wasn’t initially,” you admitted. “Just after spending more time in the LSRC and a few other irrelevant things I decided it was the best fit for me to focus on.” 

“You and heart-eyes make a pretty good pair then,” Carlo raised his eyebrows suggestively and took a sip of his drink. 

“I guess we do,” you chuckled. “As long as he leaves the research to me. We all know what he’s like in the lab.” 

“I resent that,” James protested only before saying, “but I do deserve it.” 

“It’s a miracle he hasn’t had a medical malpractice suit,” Pierre added. 

You asked the boys about where their various careers had taken them and how they were each doing. The conversation stayed pretty normal until the topic changed to relationships, starting with Jian’s wife and family back in Vancouver and Pierre’s husband who was currently in Australia doing research on some massive insect. 

“What about you Carlo?” you asked. “Anyone special in your life?” 

“Nah,” he waved his hand. 

“What about the mom of the kid who pet sits for you?” Jian asked. 

“That kid charges me per animal, per size. If I were to date his mom he’d probably charge me for dating her too, and I don’t think I can afford his price,” he shook his head and the table laughed. 

“James, you’ve been quiet,” you said. “Nothing to share?” 

James nervously took a sip of his drink and looked over at his friends for help. 

“James hasn’t had the best luck in love,” Pierre settled on. 

“Oh, haven’t found anybody, that’s not a big deal,” you assured him. “I haven’t either.” 

“Well,” Carlo said in a high-pitched voice. “It’s not exactly that he hasn’t found anybody.” 

“So there’s someone-?” 

“I’m divorced,” James blurted. “Three times. Or soon to be three anyway.” 

“Oh,” you paused and tried to think of the right thing to say, but for the moment settled on nothing while Pierre changed the subject. 

After the visit was over, James offered to walk you to your car and you accepted. The walk started off in silence, but you decided to break it. 

“You know, I hope you find the right person eventually,” you said. “It’s unfortunate things didn’t work out three times.” 

“Yeah,” James nodded in agreement. “I-um, do you ever think about that conversation we had, in the McDonald’s by my apartment?” 

“Sometimes I do,” you admitted. 

“Looking back on that, I wonder if we ever really loved each other. If we did this probably wouldn’t have happened. We would have fixed things, worked on ourselves instead of just…giving up.” 

“So I guess you still haven’t fallen in love yet?” you asked, but he stayed silent. “Whoever it is, I’m sure things will find a way to work out for you.”

“The moment may have passed on that,” he said with his hands shoved in his pockets and looking down at the ground. 

“You never know, James. Sometimes life has a funny way of surprising you.” 

—

James watched as his colleagues and a few of the students from the university left the lecture hall while he continued to sit in his seat, watching you walk up towards him. 

“Don’t you have patients or something?” you asked. “You’re at all of my lectures.” 

“Doesn’t it seem appropriate for an oncologist to attend a cancer biology lecture?” he asked as you sat down next to him. 

“I suppose so,” you sighed. “Doesn’t explain why you weren’t taking notes though.” 

James looked down at his empty hands and cursed a little internally. 

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I don’t mind the staring, it reminds me of school.” 

“You noticed?” he asked. 

“You weren’t very subtle,” you chuckled. 

“Yeah, not one of my strong suits,” he blushed, embarrassed. 

“Do you wanna go grab lunch before your break is over?” you asked and James nodded, standing up and offering you a hand to get out of your seat. 

You went to the cafeteria, running into his friend House who managed to get his food paid for by James, yet again, before leaving to go back up to his office and work on another differential diagnosis with his employees. 

“Did all the guys get back home safe after their trip?” you asked, digging into your food. 

“Carlo and Jian are back home, Pierre went to go be with Ollie in Australia.”

“It must be hard not living near them.” 

James sighed and nodded his head. “It’s a balance. When they’re being annoying, it’s great that they don’t live here and when they’re not, it sucks.” 

“Spoken like a true friend,” you chuckled. 

“What about you? Do you still keep in touch with people from school? During any of your degrees?” 

“Not really,” you shook your head. “After my undergrad I became so laser focused on my school I didn’t pay attention to relationships that much outside of my family. Starting to regret it a bit now.” 

“Kind of hard to have a good conversation with cancer cells,” James said sarcastically and you shook your head. “Do you like it in New Jersey so far?” 

“Not as much as back home,” you admitted, “but it is nice to have a friend here.”

“Yeah, Jersey is…an acquired taste,” he settled on, making you laugh, but your laughter was cut off by the sound of his pager, and he looked down to see what the message was before quickly standing up. “Sorry, I have to-,” 

“Don’t worry,” you assured him. “I’ll pack up your food and bring it to your office.” 

“Thanks,” he nodded and you waved goodbye as he ran off out of the cafeteria and to the oncology floor to go help one of his patients. 

—

James didn’t find himself walking around the campus often, but when he did it was usually because he had to clear his head. With everything that was going on in his life, in addition to the circumstances of this case, he was taking it harder than normal. 

He had left his coat in his office as the hot New Jersey sun was already beating down, his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes following his feet as he took his steps forward. 

He didn’t notice you sitting on a bench as he was passing by. Curious as to his state, you stood up and went to meet up with him. 

“Hey James, are you okay?” 

Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts almost instantly. He stopped to look up at you, seeing the concern reflecting in your eyes. 

He took his hands out of his pockets and motioned for you to walk with him. 

“I lost a patient today,” he explained. “He was 11.” 

“Oh, James, I’m so sorry,” you said softly. 

“In med school you learn pretty quickly if you don’t find a way to deal with what you face every day the result is never good,” he said and you noticed him chewing on the inside of his cheek, “but it was just too sunny outside. How could it be sunny on a day like this?” 

You didn’t say anything initially, only intertwining your hand with his and giving it a light squeeze which he returned. 

“You know, I think it’s probably okay, every once in a while, to let yourself mourn your patients. Just like everyone else. You have a uniquely difficult job, James, and no one would hold it against you if you need a minute to adjust.” 

James stopped walking and you followed his lead, only to have him let go of your hand and pull you into a tight hug. You easily wrapped your arms around his neck while his arms were around your waist. 

“You’re a good doctor, James,” you mumbled. “I know, even if you don’t quite believe it right now, you did everything you could to help that young boy and make him more comfortable.” 

You could feel him nod his head, clearly not trusting himself to say anything at the moment. 

Neither of you wanted to let go, but you knew that you both had work to get back to. James had other patients he was responsible for and you had some work to do in one of the hospital labs. 

So silently, hand in hand, you accompanied each other back to the hospital, grateful for each other’s company. 

—

“I swear, if I stay there any longer I’m going to go mad,” James whispered to you under his breath as you walked along the halls of the hospital with him to help him run some tests for a few patients. 

“What was it this time?” you asked, huddling in closer, waiting for him to spill the beans on why living with his best friend was becoming unbearable. 

“He keeps pranking me,” he began to explain and you could see how frustrated he was just by his hand movements. “Last night he thought of the genius idea to put my hand in warm water while I was sleeping and-,” James stopped himself, realizing he’d divulged too much, just as your eyes went wide. 

“Oh my God you didn’t wet the bed did you?” you asked in a chuckle and James quickly covered your mouth saying, 

“Shh! The whole hospital doesn’t need to hear you!” 

You couldn’t hold in your laugh, muffled by James’ hand over your mouth and his cheeks were a bright cherry red. 

Eventually you pulled his hand away and said, 

“You definitely need to get out of there. That’s criminal.” 

“Exactly what I’m saying,” James agreed. 

“Hey, why don’t you come over to my place tonight?” you suggested. “We can watch a movie or something together.” 

“That sounds like exactly what I need right now,” he nodded his head. “What time?” 

“Come over at eight, it’ll give me some time to get snacks and get ready.” 

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he held out his hand and you took it shaking it firmly. 

Later that evening while James was getting ready, House watched him curiously. 

“I still don’t believe that you blowdry your hair,” he said loudly over the sound of the appliance. 

“Believe it or not, I do,” James responded. 

“It just seems so pointless, your hair is messy anyways,” he crossed his arms and James gave him a look. 

“My hair looks fine, yours on the other hand could use a trim and about a billion other things,” James retorted.

“So, is this a date?” House asked, changing the topic. 

“No, it’s not a date,” James shook his head. “It’s an opportunity for me to get away from your insanity.” 

“Are you sure it’s not a date?” he asked. 

“What makes you think it's a date?” he finally gave in and turned around to face his friend, turning off the blow dryer. 

“Well if you asked her if you could come over, probably not a date, but if she offered…” he shrugged his shoulders. 

James shook his head, he didn’t want to allow himself to believe it was true, because if it was, he’d probably overthink things and make a fool of himself. 

“It’s not a date,” he reiterated and House stopped pressing, seeing as his friend would not be reasoned with. 

James finished fixing his hair and grabbed his keys and a coat before stepping out of the door. 

It didn’t take him long to drive to your house and when he knocked at the door he heard shuffling inside before the lock clicked and you opened it. 

“Hey! You got the dress code memo,” you joked, pointing to his McGill sweater and then back at yours. 

“I thought you might like a blast from the past,” he smiled and you invited him inside. 

As he entered he noticed the array of pillows on the couch, blankets draped over arm chairs, and books piled on every surface possible. To top it off, the house was currently only lit by lamps allowing a warm orange hue to fall over the space. It made James’ shoulders relax and he could even feel his nervous heart rate slow. 

“Do you like it?” you asked. “I am by no means an interior decorator, but I tried to make it feel cozy so it’s nice to come back to after long days at work.” 

“I do like it,” James nodded. “A lot. It feels like a home.” 

“Perfect, that’s exactly what I was going for,” you smiled. “You’re the first guest I’ve had here, you know?” 

“Really? No fancy dinner parties with the hospital board?” 

“No, not yet,” you chuckled. “Unfortunately, this guy in the oncology department keeps taking up all my time.”

You grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the couch. 

“But don’t worry, I don’t mind.” 

After he took off his coat, you both sat down next to each other, James extending his hand along the back of the couch and you naturally sat right up next to him, leaning forward to grab the remote and turn on the movie. 

“What did you pick?” James asked. 

“Just some random horror movie,” you said. “I heard it’s really cheesy.” 

“We’ll see about that,” James raised his brows and grabbed the popcorn from the table, putting it in between you both. 

You pressed play once you were both settled and tossed the remote to the side of the couch, curling your legs up and waiting in anticipation for the movie to begin.

It didn’t take long for the horror plot to begin, jumping right into the satanic murders and supernatural deaths. Just as you had predicted, it was cheesy, but that didn’t stop you from being startled whenever something popped up unexpectedly on the screen. 

Both of you were lulled into a false sense of security during what seemed like a quiet part of the movie, then, all of a sudden, the killer jumped into the frame with a loud change in the soundtrack, causing you to shriek and move towards James, also feeling him jump slightly from being startled. 

You both looked up at each other and laughed at the ridiculousness of your collective fright. 

“You’re supposed to be the calm one,” you elbowed him. 

“I know it just-Jesus!” James found himself inadvertently closing his eyes and wrapping his arm around you as if it would give him some protection from what was on the screen. 

You laughed again and leaned closer into his side, patting his leg to assure him it was safe to open his eyes again. 

“You must enjoy torturing me, that’s the only explanation for this,” James looked over at you and you shook your head. 

“Come on, heart-eyes, you think that lowly of me?” 

James couldn’t stop the smile that creeped past his lips, “No, of course not.” 

“Good, that means I still have the upper hand,” you moved your head to look back at the TV, but not before James tickled you in retaliation for your words. 

It took a moment, but you eventually surrendered and moved your focus back to the movie, still feeling a little warm from your laughter. 

You grabbed some of the other candies and snacks from the table, holding a gummy bear up for James to try and he did without so much as a second thought. 

“Still have a sweet tooth I see,” you offered him a different candy which he ate again and nodded. 

“You don’t want to know how many cavities I’ve had.” 

“Here,” you handed him a wrapped treat. “This one’s special from home.” 

“Maple candies,” he smiled. “They don’t make ‘em like they do in Montreal.” 

“They were your favourite, right?” you asked. 

James looked over at you again curiously, “You remembered that?” 

“Of course I did,” you shrugged. “Oh wait, look,” you pointed to the TV before grimacing and covering your eyes, but still peeking through your fingers. “Ew!” 

James just smiled at you, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to kiss you, the thought bringing a warm sensation to his stomach. 

He settled instead on doing what he’d been doing forever: staring at you with heart-eyes. 

—

James tried to fight a yawn as he grabbed one of the many books on the shelves in his office, taking it to his couch and sitting down next to you. 

“You don’t have to do this, James,” you told him. “You probably have to be back tomorrow morning, you should go home and rest.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” he insisted. “You look in here for that article I was telling you about and I’ll start proofreading.” 

There were many papers and files strewn around the couch, you couldn’t remember when you first came in, but James never seemed to mind when you worked in his office instead of your own. 

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I feel like I brought a tornado in here.” 

James looked up from your paper and nodded his head. 

“Now hush and let me read.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckled, opening the medical journal he had handed you, flipping through the contents until you found the article title he had mentioned. 

James had a pen in his hand, scribbling down annotations on the side, correcting a few typos and grammatical errors. 

For the most part, he was able to follow along, but at one point, the words became so incoherent he tapped you to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. 

“What does this say here?” he asked. “I-I don’t know if my eyes just stopped working, but what does stirring in sugar and eggs have to do with this trial treatment?” 

“Oh my God,” you grabbed the paper and looked at it closer. “I must have accidentally copied some of my mom’s cookie recipe on here before changing documents. What in the world is going on with me?” 

Maybe it was the exhaustion settling in or some other things James couldn’t quite pinpoint, but he felt himself letting out a chuckle that grew a little longer, and longer until it was a full blown laugh. 

It was an honest mistake, and arguably not that funny, but you’d be hard pressed to convince him of that in that moment, and instead, seeing the silliness of the situation, you joined in.

Eventually, when the laughter died down, you and James both leaning far back against the couch, he turned to you and apologized. 

“I’m sorry, I should probably read this when I have a bit more sanity.” 

“Don’t be,” you patted his leg. “I can always use a good laugh.” 

With your heads still turned to face each other, you suggested to pause the work and resume it another time, to which James agreed. 

You both continued to sit there in silence, looking over at each other and James caught a glimmer of something in your eyes and had to blink a few times to make sure it was still there. It was a soft look, a little dazed, like you were happily daydreaming about something far off. It took him a moment to realize it, since he had been the one giving that look, he’d never really had a chance to see it for himself. 

You had heart-eyes. 

And more importantly, you had them while you were looking at James. 

With a sudden boost of courage, fuelled by lowered inhibitions, he started by asking, 

“Have I ever told you why my friends call me heart-eyes?” 

You tilted your head a little, following his lead and sitting up straight. 

“Wasn’t it because of that girl you had a crush on that was from here?” 

James opened his mouth and then shut it, shaking his head. 

“There was never a girl from Jersey,” he admitted. 

“Why would they say it was a girl from Jersey if there was…” as you said the sentence you slowed down, the realization dawning on you. 

“All the staring makes a bit more sense now?” he asked. 

You blinked a few times, “I just thought you were really awkward,” you said. 

“I was, but if the staring didn’t give it away the blushing really should have done it,” he chuckled. 

“I thought you had a circulation issue!” you exclaimed and James burst out laughing, of course you did. “God, James, why didn’t you say anything?” 

James shook his head, “I could barely string out a coherent sentence when I was around you. Makes it a little hard to say anything.” 

“Makes me wish I had said something,” you said, feeling your own cheeks heat up at the admission. 

“Y-You would’ve said something?” 

Now it was James’ turn to be surprised. 

“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first. That’s what you said to me, but that eventually, if it was love, I’d know it.” 

You reached out and held James’ hands in your own. 

“I should have said something. I could have said something. We could have had so much more-,” 

“James,” you whispered, interrupting him and he stopped. “Shut up and kiss me.” 

James wasn’t going to waste another second, removing his hands from your to instead gently hold your face, bringing you closer to him so he could finally do what he had been dreaming about since he was 18 years old. 

The dim light of his desk lamp, the papers crumpled beneath and around you, the way you moved closer and slid into his lap, his hands now on your hips and your fingers snaking through his hair, it all melted into one and if you let yourselves imagine, just a bit, the lamp became a light in the library; the papers became unfinished homework assignments and lab write-ups, and you hadn’t missed a second of the time you could have spent together. 

Your kisses soon turned slow and repetitive and neither of you wanted to pull away, living in the moment like it was your last. 

“When…did you realize…you loved me?” you asked between kisses, moving away from his mouth, instead letting your lips find their way across his jaw and up to his temple. 

“Our last year of school,” he paused your kisses so he could kiss you properly again. “Carlo said something and-,” he shook his head and sighed. “I realized I was going to leave without you ever knowing how I felt and even though eventually I thought maybe I’d stopped loving you and started to love other people…I just kept trying to fill that space that only you fit in.” 

“First year of my master’s for me,” you rested your forehead against his. “Suddenly you weren’t there anymore and I really wished that wasn’t the case.” 

He tilted his head up to meet you in another kiss that was far too easy to melt into. Neither of you had any complaints and you knew you’d never get tired looking into his heart-eyes.

@cuntyvicodin

[niqhtlord01]

Interviews with the Mythical

Human Reporter: What do you mean you invented Christmas?

Vampire: I mean just that, we invented the entire thing up.

Human Reporter: But we have documents, records of-

Vampire: All fabricated during the 3rd century as you call it.

Human Reporter: But why would you do that?

Vampire: Long term plan to subvert the day Christ was born.

Vampire: We gathered and felt that if we could slowly subvert the holiday with something less Christian we could dilute the faithful.

Vampire: Eventually we took a step back and you humans corporatized the holiday all by yourself to the point many associate it with our “Saint Nic” over that zombie boy Jesus.

Human Reporter: How would you say that has played out?

Vampire: I watched a woman throw a child like a football all to get the last Christmas day sale Toaster.

Vampire: It’s going swimmingly. ------------------------

Shape shifter: Oh yes I knew him.

Human Reporter: You knew Vincent Van Gogh?

Shape Shifter: This will be a short interview if you continue to question everything I say.

Human Reporter: I was just surprised since you look so young.

Shape Shifter: Such things as aging function differently for us.

Shape Shifter:  We appear old because we wish to feel the ravages of time.

Shaper Shifter: We appear young because we wish to bask in the depravities of youth.

Human Reporter: So are you immortal like vampires?

Shaper Shifter: *scoffs

Shape Shifter: I wish they would stop referring to themselves like that; the arrogant bastards.

Shaper Shifter: Vampires age slowly, but they age all the same; and I’ve yet to meet one that didn’t find a stake through the heart a grievous inconvenience.

Human Reporter: You are dodging the question.

Shape Shifter: Because I don’t have an answer.

Shape Shifter: The only way I imagine I can die is if I change into something dead, but I have no idea what that feels like so in the back of my mind there will always be a part of me alive meaning I am never really dead.

Human Reporter: Sounds like a maddening state.

Shape Shifter: Gogh said the same thing before he asked to paint me in my natural state.

Human Reporter: Really? What was it like being in one of his paintings?

Shape Shifter: Let’s just say he wasn’t always paranoid. ---------------------------

Human Reporter: So you take being a wolf seriously.

Werewolf: So?

Human Reporter: I mean, really seriously.

Werewolf: What kind of stupid question is that?

Werewolf: You take being human pretty seriously for being a human.

Human Reporter: But that’s just it, you are half wolf and half human; but your more animalistic side seems to take more precedent.

Werewolf: *Snarls

Human Reporter: I mean from what we do know you still form packs and groups with other werewolves even when in human form, you organize yourself like a pack being led by an alpha, etc.

Werewolf: I see what you’re getting at.

Werewolf: The animal tendencies are more…overpowering than human ones.

Human Reporter: Aren’t they the same?

Werewolf: No, they’re not.

Human Reporter: Could you elaborate?

Werewolf: Do you want to leave with your head?

Human Reporter: Yes.

Werewolf: Than this interview is over. ----------------

 Human Reporter: Do you have a moment for an interview?

Sphinx: Only if you answer my riddle.

Sphinx: What walks on-

Human Reporter: The answer is man.

Sphinx: ……

Sphinx: I haven’t even finished.

Human Reporter: I mean…..it’s not exactly a secret riddle.

Sphinx: But how can you possibly know it?

Human Reporter: Oedipus recorded the answer after he solved it.

Sphinx: *Defeated sigh

Sphinx: I knew I should have just killed that little man.

Sphinx: What else did he write?

Human Reporter: That after he solved the riddle you were so distraught you flung yourself into the sea to commit suicide.

Sphinx: That lying sack of shit! --------------------

Human Reporter: So does your pumpkin rot and you need to collect new ones or is it just eternally ripe?

Headless Horseman: Through the pumpkin That is what you are opening with?

Human Reporter: Well I just wonder how that thing could be still fresh after almost 300 years.

Headless Horseman: *Tilts neck down to show severed neck muscles and spine

Headless Horseman: None of this is freaking you out?

Human Reporter: If I’m being truthful I did interview a zombie before meeting you and they also were missing a substantial amount of flesh.

Headless Horseman: Did you just fucking compare me to a zombie!?!

Human Report: You technically are undead in a sense.

Headless Horseman: They made a bloody movie about me! It had Johnny Depp and I was played by Christopher Walken!

Headless Horseman: They made a tv show about me!

Human Reporter: With respect they’ve made more shows about zombies.

Headless Horseman: *Storms off and kicks over a stack of boxes while swearing in german ----------------

Human Reporter: Thank you for your time.

Leprechaun:  Pay my fee, lest I shall flee.

Human Reporter: *Reaches into pocket and tosses three gold coins.

Leprechaun: *Catches coins, takes a bite on each, then pockets them.

Human Reporter: You’re the only creature I’ve met that’s actually charged for an interview.

Leprechaun: Fools and half-wits waste fortunes with words said free, but I’m neither lest I’m paid handsomely.

Human Reporter:  Bit of a rhyming theme going on I see; very poetic.

Leprechaun: Words and songs are my crafts by trade, but none still finer than my cobbler days.

Human Reporter: What makes Leprechaun gold more special than normal gold?

Leprechaun: A simple question gets a simple answer.

Leprechaun: No gold is finer than the ones I gather.

Leprechaun: Through trade and trick I make my wealth, and by deceit and death I keep it still.

Human Reporter: You’re saying you’ve had to kill to protect your gold?

Leprechaun: The penance is clear, there’s no debate.

Leprechaun: You take my gold, I take your life. ------------

Human Reporter: What is it like to be the neck tie for a god?

Nag Vasuki: You would mock an immortal being?

Human Reporter: Do you not coil yourself around the neck of the literal god of destruction?

Nag Vasuki: I do.

Human Report: Then that makes you a neck tie.

Nag Vasuki: *Lunges across table and bites reporter in the neck, delivering a lethal amount of poison before storming off to get a bagel. ---------------

Human Reporter: Why do you eat children?

Baba Yaga: Why does a raging river drown those lost within its grasp?

Human Reporter: Because a river is part of nature.

Baba Yaga: As am I.

Baba Yaga: There is nothing more unforgiving and unrelenting than that of nature, and in their youthful bliss many young find themselves lost within its tangled woods of thorn and wood.

Baba Yaga: I, like nature, stand at the gates of great change that children must face; be it for great joy or misery.

Human Reporter: Are you saying you eat children because they refused to adapt?

Baba Yaga: *chuckles

Baba Yaga: Only the unlucky ones. -------------------

Human Reporter: in hazmat suit Thank you for the interview.

Nuckelavee: Through the hanging mouth of a horse and its rider man Save your false gratitude.

Nuckelavee: I seek neither your accolades nor your ponderous questioning.

Human Reporter: Then why did you come at all?

Nuckelavee: For all of humanity to know that their end will soon be at hand, and it will be by my machinations shall you fall.

Human Reporter: Forgive me but you remind me of the four horseman.

Nuckelavee:  *laughs

Nuckelavee:  Ah yes, the fear of the southerners was so rich when they first laid eyes on me.

Nuckelavee: They had come to preach the word of their god, so it was only fitting I made them scream out to their savior as I peeled the flesh from their bones. The look of abandonment they gave was so amusing I allowed the last of them passage back to their stone temples.

Nuckelavee: So wrought with horror they were that when they scampered back their minds could not conceive such malevolence as a singular being.

Human Reporter: So you are claiming to be the inspiration for the four horsemen?

Nuckelavee: There can be no other.

Human Reporter: If that was the case are you not upset you were depicted as such?

Nuckelavee: In the end I shall feast on you all; what mind have I to care for such trivialities?

[rot-decay-erosion]

hey grandpa >:3

silence worm

[heartchoi]

[7:08 pm] ㅡ c.sb

pairing: soobin x gn!reader

warnings: mild swearing, reader is shorter than soobin, established relationship, tooth rotting fluff

wc: 839

a/n: im back so i had to write about my boyfriend!!! also this is inspired by those tiktok slideshows of those random manhwas LMAOO

“Come on, why are you giving me the cold shoulder?” Soobin pouts, nudging your arm with his. You don’t give a reaction to his antics, walking away from him, almost speed walking away. Soobin shouts your name, desperate for your attention.

“Hey! Just tell me~” He drawls, catching up to you. Once more, you ignore him, scoffing a little.

The scoff was not appreciated.

Soobin gently grabs your shoulders before spinning you around, forcing you to look at him. He even bends down a little for the eye contact. (Is this embarrassing? He’s tall, everyone knows that, but damn, he didn’t have to bend down. Makes you truly realize the height difference here.)

“My love. My life. Sweetheart. Honey. Baby. Please, just tell me what I did wrong. I don’t deserve to be ignored by the love of my life like this.” He accentuates his pout further, his bottom lip fully jutted out. “Pretty please?” Soobin adds, sweetening his tone.

You sigh. You can’t escape him forever, it seems. “I didn’t appreciate how you almost let that girl make cat whiskers on your face.”

Soobin’s confusion is evident on his face — His brows furrow, lips pucker. It’s almost comical how confused he looks. “What?” He says, almost in disbelief.

You quickly rush to defend yourself (It’s kind of embarrassing now that you say it out loud. You can’t go back now, though. You have to stick to it.) “Listen! I just don’t think you should be letting other people touch your face. I mean, we’re dating right? I was right next to you, too! Also, you have a skincare routine, foreign germs would have made you break out.” You ramble. You’re starting to pull random reasons out of your ass to defend yourself. Perhaps you should look into becoming a lawyer.

Soobin giggles a little. “You’re so cute. But, don’t you kiss me all over my face all the time? What about that?” He counters. You’re starting to become really frustrated with him.

“That doesn’t count! Your face germs are probably used to me by now, so I wouldn’t be a foreign invader. Also, you’re basically invalidating my feelings right now. That’s so rude.” You cross your arms around your chest. It’s getting serious now.

Soobin is visibly trying to hold it together and not laugh. He lets go of your shoulders as he takes a deep breath. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry, baby. But… I’m not close to that girl. You shouldn’t have to worry.” You hum in reply, happy by his answer.

“What about you, though?”

What?

Soobin begins to elaborate. “You’re close with Yeonjun-hyung and Taehyunie… does that mean I should worry about them?” One of his fingers tap his chin in thought.

You stutter. “N-no! Aren’t you close with Choi Yewon?” Soobin nods. “Yeah.” “Then you too! Besides, Yeonjun and Taehyun don’t like me like that.” You look away, suddenly your shoes are more interesting than the boy basically hovering over you.

Soobin doesn’t take his eyes off you. “But I like you.” He says, voice smooth and flirty. You can tell he’s grinning at you right now. You can also feel your face heat up at his words. Damn, are you really that easy?

“Oh my god, shut up.” You mutter. You don’t dare to look up at him. Soobin would tease you to no end if he saw how warm your face was right now. “Mmmh, why? I love seeing my baby so flustered.” He coos, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

You can’t take it anymore.

“That’s enough from you.” You say, covering his mouth with your palm. Soobin stares at the hand covering his mouth quizzically.

“Are you… are you really silencing your boyfriend right now?” His words are muffled, but the shock in his tone is unmistakable. You nod proudly, extremely pleased with yourself.

The gears turn in his head as he thinks about what he should do next.

You might have done it. You might have finally stopped Soobin from being a flirt. “Ha! You’ve finally shut up. God, if I knew it was this easy—“

“Then… can you block this?” Soobin takes your palm off his mouth before he swoops in, tilting his head perfectly so he can slot his lips in yours. It takes you by surprise, slapping your hand over his mouth moments before his lips meet yours.

You don’t even realize your eyes are closed until Soobin’s muffled voice filters through the air.

“You must really like me too if your eyes are closed.” Your eyes quickly shoot open to see him staring at you. Even with his mouth covered you can tell he’s sporting a shit-eating grin right now. Warmth has now covered every inch of your face and you hate it.

“You… you are so fucking annoy-“

Soobin licks your palm, causing you to reel your arm back in disgust. Soobin laughs before sprinting away, leaving you alone with saliva on your palm and a shocked expression on your face.

[liliewrites]

Wouldn't mind requests she says.. hm then how about a soft smut for arlecchino ? I do love the way you wrote her and I'm a sucker for her being so in love with her s/o lol. Perhaps she saw you play with the children or help them with something and was overcome with the affection

Other than that I did mean to ask, are you excited for Wuthering Waves ? Some of these characters are kinda... 😳😳😳 Yinlin especially frfr

Oh and do you accept emoji anons ? Might be a bit easier lol, if you do could I have 🔥 ?

Have a lovely day :)

OMGGG HIII MY FIRST EMOJI ANON? HIIII 🔥 ANONN!!!:OO anyway, regarding WuWa, i have seen stuff about it but not really much updated about it since i've been busy but i do know that it's coming out tomorrow? iirc. but yea fear not for i WILL be playing it, BUT YEAAA yinlin omg and baizhi?? ughajshd who knows i might write about them too.. anyw enjoy anon!!!

-warning/s : NSFW, cunnilingus (r! receiving), tooth rotting fluff, super soft arlecchino, not proofread.

(men and minor dni utc!)

imo.. arlecchino is a person who genuinely loves and cares but prefers not to show emotion especially due to her profession and background (childhood too). she does not like being vulnerable at all and has trust issues with everyone, even the kids as they r still capable of betrayal, but she trusts you 100% with her vulnerability and what she sees as her "weaknesses" which is why she is more showy of her love and care towards you, hence why she is a lovesick fool for her s/o in my eyes hwjasdh sorry for yapping anyw here's ur fic that was supposed to be just a thirst.. haha.. this was also rushed and not proof-read so sorry for d mistakes.. HAHAHA (will elaborate about this behavior of hers in future fics..)

"f-father, may i have a moment?"

small hands tug on the harbinger's coat, and her deadpan eyes meet with those that belonged to a nervous toddler-- one of her children, to be specific. "what is it, my child?" she asked, tone devoid of any feeling, making it hard to guess what she was thinking, much to the child's anxiety of getting scolded by her.

"a-a.. a bouquet for you, father!"

frail little hands open up in front of her, a messy bundle of assorted wild flowers tied together with a sloppy ribbon had been presented to the knave. with a hum, the harbinger accepts the bouquet from the toddler's hands, gives her a pat on the head and the little darling scurries off.

her eyes follow the direction of where the child was headed to, the harbinger's curiosity was piqued and she wanted to know what had motivated the child to bring her flowers out of nowhere without any special occasion.

-- but as soon as she sees as to who the child runs to, she immediately has a clear answer to her question. of course, it was you, it was you who encouraged the child to give her flowers. with silent steps, she approached the slightly ajar of the bedroom's door, leaning on the wall next to it to hear your conversations with the child.

"ah, little love, have you given your father the bouquet you made?"

"y-yes mother! she even gave me a headpat.."

"hmm, now you see, my love? father is not scary at all, father can be strict with you, but it is only out of concern.. sharing is caring, little love, i am sure she'll appreciate a few flowers from time to time. now settle down, it is time for bed."

arlecchino stared at the "bouquet" in her hands, suddenly, it had more meaning to her than just a bunch of wild flowers. it was evidence of the child learning to give, and of course you were the one who taught them that. it was evidence of the child learning that they could be safe around her despite her outward appearance, and of course you were the one who assured them that. she was scary to most children, yes, for she had nurtured and raised them under the guise of a strict and unfeeling father just so she could raise them with proper discipline. although recently, even the younger kids, they have started to treat her more.. genuinely. ah, it must have been your doing. you must have been convincing them behind the scenes. she should hate you, for coaxing the kids in indulging with personal emotions that could cause them to have flaws as they grow up, but she doesn't. instead, she is thankful, because you've treated the kids with such gentleness and unconditional love-- she is thankful that you've treated her the same.

"oh! my beloved, have.. you been standing there all this time?"

a surprised gasp brings her back to her senses, the sound of the door closing behind her lover's back echoed through the hallway of the orphanage. "no, darling. i was simply checking up on you and the children, are they asleep?" arlecchino asks, choosing not to reveal to her wife that she had found out about your recent teachings. "yes, all tucked and away to dreamland." you smiled at her, walking up to her and pulling her in for a hug. the knave was not one for affection, that was made clear, but after a busy day- she cannot help but miss you too. "let's go to bed, my love. i wish to cradle you by my side tonight." you whisper to her ear, and arlecchino silently nods, her hand on your lower back.

as soon as you return to your bedroom with arlecchino, dressed in bed time clothes, the harbiner seemed to have other plans however as she immediately starts to pepper you with slow, soft and sensual kisses.

"my love, ah- you're.. strangely affectionate today, not that i don't like it, is there something on your mind?" you ask with that same gentle tone of yours, the same tone that reduces her to a lovesick fool whenever it's just you two, that lets her put down the wall she's built to let you in and show you what's inside her mind.

"nothing, my beloved.." she whispers, looking at you with adoration. it makes your heart skip a beat to see her like this. she leans in to kiss your forehead, a silent thank you for taking care of the kids.

".. i just simply wish to express my feelings. isn't that what you teach within this household?"

she adds, which confuses you a little. you were unsure about what she exactly meant, but you let her regardless. "okay, my beloved. express your feelings then." you mumbled with a silly smile, finding arlecchino's actions a bit adorable- quite similar to the children, even. arlecchino nods, a look of determination paints her face for a moment, then she leans in to kiss your cheek.

a silent thank you for loving her and seeing through her harsh demeanor. you can't help but feel flustered, feeling like a teenage girl and her first love.

she then moves on to kiss your neck in a ticklish manner, making you giggle, and it was music to her ears.

a silent thank you for introducing genuine warmth to the house of hearth. thanks to you, the orphanage burned with compassion and not with competitiveness. "beloved, aha- s-stop it!" you squirm with a chuckle, and arlecchino's face may not show it, but her heart is leaping at the sight of your gorgeous smile.

a kiss to your chest, making you gasp as her lips landed on your nipples. her tongue swirling gently around it, making you feel a subtle warmth from the intimacy of the moment.

a silent thank you for being a source of healing to her. before you, the word "mother" had brought chills up her spine, and she resented the word fiercely but after you? you had shown her what a real mother was like, and it's one of the many qualities you hold that she absolutely adores about you.

"mhm.. my beloved, is it gratitude that you wish to express?"

you asked, followed by a quiet moan as she releases your chest from her mouth with a pop. she was in awe of you, that you were able to read her mind without having to tell you. ".. yes, my beloved. how did you know?" she curiously asked, and you couldn't help but let out another chuckle. oh, this side of arlecchino was endearing, to see her openly express her thoughts. "you like to show your gratitude towards me in the form of kisses, arlecchino." you answered, bringing your hand to her head to pull her closer, then leaning in to kiss her forehead as well. "- but this is certainly the most intimate way you've shown it." you added, and she definitely felt a bit flustered. either way, arlecchino does not say a word, and chooses to continue expressing her emotions through actions.

her kisses go lower, and lower, and the sensitivity that you feel from increases.

silence rings throughout the room, except for your moans off the walls. her gratitude and devotion to you was as clear as day. her hands gently held you down by the hips as she pulled down your panties with her teeth. it was fucking hot, to see her hold you completely still with her strength alone-- and the eye contact that she kept as she stripped your pussy bare.

"my beloved, do i have permission?"

"of course, my love."

arlecchino knows that asking consent, despite it being already established beforehand, was a major turn on for you. she started by light kitten licks to your clit, making you gasp with each time her tongue made contact with the sensitive bud. the quick and light flicks were a tease, and made you tremble in anticipation.

"the mother of my children, what a pretty pussy you have.."

she mumbles in pure adoration, her breath lightly grazing against your exposed slit. you couldn't help but let out a shaky gasp of her name, "a-arlecchino.. please, do something.." you begged. "patience, my beloved." she answers, but dives right in between your legs to give your slit one, long, lick. it drove you crazy, but it felt so good. she slid her hands under your knees, bringing you closer to her, before holding onto your thighs to keep you spread apart.

"mm, you taste so splendid on my tongue, beloved.."

she moans, before finally indulging both you and her with the pleasure of her tongue roaming, exploring and pleasing your pussy. you started to squirm with the increasing intensity of her licks, and soon she was eating you out like a starved madman. thank god for strong hands, as you could barely keep yourself still, if it weren't for her holding you down you would have kept lifting yourself off the bed.

"a-arlecchino- arle-!"

you cried out her name, as her tounge darted inside you. you were close. so close. arlecchino however, was currently drunk on your moans and the taste of your slick, too busy savoring the raw taste of you, her lover. she hadn't noticed the way your cries were getting louder, or how tighter your grip on her head was becoming-- so she was surprised when you suddenly closed your thighs around her head, a bit of your fluids landing on her lips and tongue, accompanied with a loud cry of her name. she spread your legs apart once more and kept it open through the whole duration of your orgasm, wanting to see how your pussy throbbed and dripped, wanting to admire how pretty you were when you came undone because of her actions.

after you've settled down, she immediately joins you for a cuddle, she was not finished for the night- no, but she'd grant you a short moment of respite. she lays her head on your chest, closing her eyes as she listens to your heartbeat. "my love, i am still surprised how you've managed to notice my way of showing gratitude when i haven't realized it myself.", she mentions. you smiled at that, and looked at her. "to be known is to be loved. i love you, peruere."

she opens her mouth to speak, wanting to further inquire what you meant by that, but closes her mouth as she realizes what you meant once you call her peruere, the name that she hid away as it represents her past, her most fragile self, that only you've come to know instead of arlecchino, the name that spreads far and wide, which strikes fear and conquers respect from the hearts of many.

she nods in agreement, wrapping her arm around you tighter. her heart swelling from the feeling of loving and being loved, of knowing and being known. to be recognized. to be appreciated.

"i agree, my beloved. i am thankful that you've come to know me as who i really am, and stayed to love me despite what i've come to be. i love you too."

[bangchangbinnie]

Run Rabbit, Run! y.jn

Run rabbit, run!

Serial Killer!Yang Jeongin × Female!Reader

Genre: Horror, Thriller, Psychological

Warnings: Gore, Stalking, Chasing, Obsession, Psychological Manipulation, Violence, Blood, Axe Violence, Dark Themes

(Was listening to red sex (restrung) by vessel while writing this. Recommend it!)

The house smelled like decay.

A thick, cloying scent clung to the air—damp wood, dust, something metallic, something rotten. It was the kind of smell that settled deep into the walls, into the floorboards, into the lungs of anyone unlucky enough to inhale it.

You shouldn’t be here. You had known that the second you stepped inside.

The door had been unlocked, slightly ajar, like it was waiting for you. And in your foolish desperation to find an escape, you had taken the invitation.

Now, standing in the middle of this rotting, lightless house, you realized your mistake.

A slow, rhythmic sound echoed through the empty halls—wood against wood, metal scraping against the floor.

You turned, and he was there.

Jeongin stood at the end of the hallway, the dim light from a flickering bulb overhead casting his face in shifting shadows. He held the axe lazily at his side, fingers curling and uncurling around the handle. His lips quirked in something like amusement, but there was no warmth in his dark eyes.

There never was.

“You know,” he mused, tilting his head, “most people don’t walk into the lion’s den willingly.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You took a step back.

Jeongin’s eyes flicked downward, watching the way your weight shifted, the way your body tensed like a trapped animal. His grip on the axe tightened.

“Are you scared?” he asked. The question sent a chill down your spine.

“Why are you doing this?” you breathed. Jeongin exhaled softly, almost like a sigh. “Because I can,” he said simply.

That was the truth of it, wasn’t it?

There was no grand, twisted reason. No elaborate backstory to explain away the way he was—no traumatic past, no childhood scars. He did this because he wanted to. Because it was fun.

Because he liked watching people run.

Your heart slammed against your ribs as he took a slow step forward, his boots heavy against the old wooden floor. He wasn’t in a hurry. He never was.

It was a game to him.

He liked to savor it.

You turned sharply, bolting toward the only door that wasn’t locked. His laughter followed you.

“Good choice,” he called after you, voice filled with something sickly sweet. “Let’s see how far you can get.”

Your legs burned as you ran, as you stumbled through the dark, as the house twisted into something unfamiliar around you. Every hallway looked the same, every turn led you deeper into its endless, rotting maze.

And then—

A sharp whistle.

You ducked just in time, and the axe embedded itself into the wooden frame beside your head. Splinters exploded from the impact, biting into your skin.

Jeongin clicked his tongue. “Tsk. Almost got you.”

You didn’t hesitate. You ripped yourself away, sprinting down the hallway, nearly tripping over your own feet. Your lungs burned. Your vision blurred. But you didn’t stop.

Because he was behind you. Slow. Methodical. Unrushed. The hunt was the best part, after all.

“Where are you gonna go?” he called, his voice light, teasing. “There’s no way out, you know.”

You didn’t listen. You couldn’t. Your hands fumbled against the walls, against the doors, searching for anything—anything.

And then—your fingers closed around cold metal.

A doorknob.

You wrenched it open and stumbled inside, slamming it shut behind you. The room was small, dark. The only window was covered with thick, rotting boards. You pressed yourself against the door, hands shaking, heart hammering.

Silence.

For a moment, just a moment, you thought maybe—

The doorknob twisted. You sucked in a sharp breath.

Slowly, deliberately, Jeongin rattled the handle, testing the lock.

Then he chuckled.

“You’re just making it more fun for me,” he murmured, his voice muffled through the door.

A pause. And then—

A heavy THUD as the axe struck the wood.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, biting down on the scream that clawed its way up your throat.

Another THUD.

The door shuddered under the force.

“I’ll give you a head start,” Jeongin called. His voice was soft, almost gentle. “Ten seconds.”

The blood drained from your face.

“Nine.”

You turned, scrambling for anything—a weapon, a way out.

“Eight.”

The window.

“Seven.”

Your hands fumbled against the wooden boards, nails digging into the rotting edges.

“Six.”

You yanked at them, ignoring the way the splinters tore into your skin.

“Five.”

One of the boards cracked, dust spilling into the air.

“Four.”

Your fingers bled as you ripped another one free.

“Three.”

Almost—

“Two.”

The lock clicked.

One.

The door creaked open.

And Jeongin smiled.

The boards snapped under your desperate hands, the nails rusted and brittle enough to loosen as you pried at them. Blood smeared across the splintered wood, but you didn’t stop—couldn’t stop. The moment you did, he would be there.

And he was.

The door swung open with an agonizing creak, slow and deliberate. He wanted you to hear it. Wanted you to know he was there.

Jeongin stood in the doorway, his figure silhouetted against the dim light of the hallway. The axe hung loosely in his grip, the blade stained dark. He wasn’t in a hurry. He didn’t need to be.

His smile was small, almost fond. “You’re bleeding.”

Your breath hitched. You didn’t turn. Didn’t dare.

Your fingers dug deeper into the wooden slats covering the window, wrenching another loose. The cold air seeped in through the widening gap, a cruel whisper of escape just beyond reach.

“Trying so hard,” Jeongin mused, his footsteps slow as he entered the room. “I’ll admit, it’s cute.”

A sickening scrape echoed as he dragged the axe along the wooden floor. You swallowed the nausea clawing up your throat.

He was playing with you. Like a cat with a mouse, savoring the fear, the desperation.

“I could’ve killed you already,” he murmured, closer now. Too close. “But where’s the fun in that?”

The last board came free with a crack. Cold wind rushed in, chilling your sweat-drenched skin. You had seconds.

Jeongin exhaled softly, just behind you.

Then—

You lunged for the window. For one fleeting second, you thought you made it. Your hands grasped the ledge, your body halfway through—

And then searing pain exploded through your scalp as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked.

A sharp cry tore from your throat as you were ripped backward, your body crashing against the floorboards. Stars burst behind your eyes, pain lancing through your skull.

Above you, Jeongin sighed. “You almost made it,” he murmured, crouching down beside you. His fingers, warm and sticky with your blood, brushed your cheek. “Almost.”

Your vision blurred, panic and pain twisting your senses. You barely noticed as he reached behind him, pulling something from his belt.

Something cold and sharp pressed against your throat.

A knife. Not the axe.

Why?

Your breath shuddered. Jeongin watched you, head tilting slightly, eyes half-lidded in quiet curiosity.

“You want to know why I don’t just kill you, don’t you?” he mused, as if reading your thoughts. His fingers pressed lightly against your throat, feeling the way your pulse pounded beneath them.

His smile widened.

“Because I like you.”

Your stomach twisted. He hummed, as if amused by the horror in your eyes. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

The knife traced a slow, teasing path along your jaw before he pulled it away. He didn’t need it. You weren’t going anywhere.

He knew it, and so did you.

Jeongin leaned down, voice a whisper against your ear.

“Run again.”

He sat back on his heels, watching you. Waiting. Daring you.

Your heart slammed against your ribs as you realized the truth.

This wasn’t over. It would never be over.

Because Jeongin didn’t want you dead, he wanted to chase you. Again. And again.

And again.

Until you broke.

[kuntprodukt]

Honey! It's a Murder Case.

Ada Wong x female reader | MDNI. female reader, reader is a mess lol, suicidal thoughts, lesbians, fluff? not sure, doomed yuri i guess, angst. word count: 4919

notes: it was partially inspired by "decision to leave", an excellent movie. This is... messy and i hate so sorry if i didn't elaborated well some themes and Ada is ooc probably but idc. feedback is appreacited 🙂‍↕️

summary: after changing town, you, a detective, arrive on the crime scene after dead man's wife called, a woman in the red that seemingly was already waiting for you.

tags: @withonly-sweetheart

Two blue eyes stare back at you, literally void of any signs of life, only fear is imprinted in them. The man’s corpse is resting against the wall of the empty pool. His pupils feel like an empty abyss gazing into your soul, searching for any hints and hoping the dead man would answer your question: “who killed you?”, too bad corpse doesn’t talk. That would have helped the investigation by making it so much easier to deal with. The smell of it is nauseating, yet you don’t show any reaction to it. Immune, no longer a rookie investigator someone would say. This is bullshit, no one can be immune to the stench. No one gets used to rotting flesh, no one gets used to announcing the death of one’s lover or parent. The dark and hard lump tries to find its way out of your throat, but you put it down easily.

“Who called us?” This question appeared quickly in your mind, even sooner it gets voiced by you. Talking makes this easier, distracts you from the smell. The witness would need to be interrogated. There is not any other person here other than your incompetent colleagues.

“Eh… A pretty lady, very” Man’s voice reaches your ears. He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, the reason is not clear, but such gesture invokes an urge; you barely restrained yourself from grimacing and giving a slap to the back of his head. One can only dream of being this savvy. A dumb answer, even worse face he has.

“Did she even give her name?” You ask with furrowed brows, pulling out a handkerchief to cover your nose. A glance at the corpse, not sure why would you worry over a dead man listening to the conversation. Corpses don’t speak. Your coworker rubs the back of his head, in the same manner he would if you had hit him there.

“Ehm.. she had a Chinese name.” You don’t really know what you should have expected from this conversation. He shrugs again, looking at you with a sheepish smile, clearly realizing how bad this is. His eyes dart around, a clear sign he is trying to find an excuse for this behavior. Anything. “…you know, they are hard to remember”

The sun is high and bright for the last days of November, as a chilly breeze rises, bringing away the smell of the corpse from the scene for a short while and shivers seep deep into your bones, a dull pain signals you don’t belong here.

…

The inside of the house is warm, and welcoming to guests. You would expect much more furniture, but it seems the victim and his wife were into minimalism. Already slightly judicial about their taste in such matters, but you aren’t here to evaluate this. This is a murder case. Probably.

“Sorry for the disturbance, Miss..?” You asked as soon as you noticed a figure standing in the kitchen, the voice echoed and filled the void of this space.

“Ada. Ada Wong” she says and you could swear your heart sank at the sound of her voice. The air became hot as the woman turned to face you. This is unexpected, not for her, cause she seems to enjoy your loss of control. Her face is all you can see, like there is nothing around you both; brown eyes with a playful look intended only for you and plump, rosy lips tugged into the most tender smile you can ever imagine. The soft rays of the sun fall on her skin, looking like a classical painting of spring. Always in the dress. Red color. A faded memory of the book emerges in the back of your mind, a useless one but still interesting enough to remind you of itself, recalling many meanings of red. In some ways, this hue became dear to you, even a favorite over time without a realization. Red is love. Red is passion. Red is desire. Red is the danger. Ada is the red color, so bright and calling to your heart. This woman has captivated you, she holds your heart in her palm, nails dig into the soft tissue of your pumping muscle, while you try to disentangle from the webs she has created for you, again.

Giving a thought, if fate is real, then it is stalking and messing with you since the last case you had before you moved into this town. Recalling it even shortly, makes your tie tighten around your neck. Like a deserved knot for your oversight and lack of professionalism. The death of a man was concluded as a suicide, cause of the lack of evidence against his wife, the suspect for whom you got attracted. The thought of her has been lingering in your mind for three years, filling with dread and yearning.

You’ve never brought up this again. The guilt is still there and you are too much of a coward to kill yourself, but the gun was always in the back of your mind.

“Detective” Ada‘s voice interrupts your endless turbulent thoughts. “tea? Coffee? Or just water?”

“Tea would be nice” You clear your throat before sitting on the chair. It is weird to look finally into her face more comfortably without guilt or shame burning your body She didn’t change. Another feeling pools in your gut; a peaceful warmth. Something you missed so much after three years of drowning yourself in self-loathing. A teapot of fine china is already hot, poured into two cups, already prepared for someone. This feels like she was waiting for you, another dumb and hopeful thoughts fill your heart as she placed two cups of warm tea. She is sitting on the opposite side, making it much easier to look into her face when she is in front of you.

“Thank you, so….” you clear your throat, looking down at the pale yellowish liquid reflecting your face. So tired. Is it white tea? Stop wandering off, focus. “The body… your husband. When did you find him?”

“This morning” Ada explains, her slender finger traces the rim of her cup. Her eyes don’t leave your face, like a predator looking for a weak spot. “Yesterday. He didn’t come home, didn’t give too many thoughts. I suspected he was drinking with friends. Like men usually do” You can feel her foot tapping against yours, probably an accident. Maybe the space is narrow, you try not to fall into senseless hope.

“Not a pleasant experience to discover his corpse, was it?” You try to keep the conversation alive, finally taking a sip of tea to soften the dryness in your throat. Floral and delicate, with subtle fruity notes in it. Clearly a white tea.

“Mm,” she hums absently. The death didn’t faze her at all, even a thought about her husband didn’t seem to be pleasant, either sad - just clear indifference. Your thought process stopped when her foot lightly brushed around your ankle before shamelessly running up to your calf, but this time it was clear - she was doing this to tease you and the same gentle smile doesn’t leave her lips. “What should one expect from a man with bad habits, mm?”

“Bad habits?” You echoed her words, keeping eye contact, but you crumble under her gaze like a sand castle after a sea wave hits it. Again those vague answers of hers. Ada nods with satisfaction written all over her face. If she was a cat, she would be a purring mess.

“Debts, multiple debts.” She explains to you with a sigh, her finger stopped toying with the edge of her cup. Unfortunately, your attention is not on the case right now as her foot moves slowly up to your thigh. You can’t keep your hands to yourself, to ignore her little game and flirting feels like torture. You grip gently her ankle, giving it a tender squeeze. The thick fabric of her black tights underneath your fingertips feels so familiar, like holding something that belongs to you. Your palms, with a slow and careful motion, drift up, giving into an urge to caress her calf and enjoy the little moments you both can afford.

“Ada…” you swallow hard, calling her by her name shifts the entire situation into a more private and intimate one. The gears in your head work overtime right now. A warmth that was born in your chest, growing its roots deeper into your body and there is hope that conflicts with your work ethic, you promised yourself to be a professional. There is a need to pull her closer, you feel like love is possible for you for once. Three years of not seeing each other. ‘I missed you’ on the tip of your tongue threatens to escape. You fear if those words will be voiced, even accidentally admitting your longing for her it will lead you to die from the broken heart. “…Did you kill him?” But all you can say will lead to a disaster, this is no exception, and her eyebrows furrow briefly before pulling her leg away. Your hands clench to keep the feeling of her body for a little bit longer.

“False accusations and damage to one’s reputation are a crime, detective” Her words are like a pike being pounded into your chest, leaving you breathless, and they are a reminder of your own unprofessional behavior in the past. Compromising the case and letting her go, even when you had shreds of evidence against Ada. There is nothing wrong with leaving right? Shame and guilt are too much to bear, avoiding any confrontation of them. You stand up quickly, almost spilling the tea.

“Yeah, sorry… for my behavior” you mutter with furrowed eyebrows, feeling tension in your jaw. “I need to go, we will contact you again soon”

This was quick, letting one of your colleagues deal with this while your mind was absent and not listening to anything. A day passes quickly, not noticing how hours flew, but this is for your own good. Returning to your apartment feels so lonely right now, lonelier than it has even been and the only sound in it is your breathing, still processing what happened today. Your mind is like a turbulent air before the storm, like a cold rain smothering your face and shading your vision. You can’t focus on anything else when Ada is inevitably back in your life.

Is she affected by this reunion like you are?

…

As time flew, you realized how easy it was to find information about the dead man and how your precinct may just leave this as an unsolved case. Ada was right about his debts, but another interesting fact was left out. Not sure if she didn’t know or she was hiding it. He was working for the government in the past - this complicates things. No wonder someone killed him, he knew too much for someone’s taste. And if it wasn���t someone from higher-ups, other organizations may have held grudges. Despite of your weakness towards a woman in red and trying to avoid any confrontation with your guilt, you couldn’t keep your curiosity at bay, delving into her past and trying to find at least something. Rather disappointing research, but maybe you got lucky cause she seems to be a mercenary or an ex-one. Not clear.

As of good news; little escapades, both of you had indulged in before, returned. Should you be ashamed of that? Yes, but at the sight of Ada you forget about anything, her presence is the cure to dawning shame. With that, December felt peaceful and warmer than it should be, maybe that’s on you, cause people still cover themselves with clothes, trying to keep the warmth of their bodies. Maybe you got more vigilant or something has changed, but it is strange to see iris at this time of year. Not like you are going to complain, you always liked Iris, those flowers were simple and cute, not sure about their meaning, but still the sight of them gave you a jolt of hope in your body. Too bad, the only flowers you received were yellow tulips. Maybe you need to read something about flower language… Her hands brush against your coat, pulling away from another wave of thoughts in your head and you halt in your movements when she pulls its edges to face you. Her expensive perfume washes over your senses again, like a kiss from the ghost - barely here, but leaves you to crave for more. If love had its own aroma, then Ada would smell like it.

“Detective is so carefree, you are going to get cold” She says, shaking her head. Her fingers drum on the fabric before shifting to your scarf. It seems you didn’t tighten it properly, looking a little bit messy and not covering your throat. “that won’t do”

You hurried to see her, but this will be your little secret.

“Are you worried?” You inquire with a smile, the tail of your brow raises, but she doesn’t answer. Her fingers brush lightly against your skin, leaving a burning sensation from that ghosted touch while she adjusts your scarf. Not wanting to end this moment, instinctively you don’t let her hands retreat. Your hold of one of her hands keeps the closeness, you could swear a brief surprise flashed in her eyes. A curiosity flashes in your mind, bringing your fingers to crawl up to inspect her fingers. Rough and dry skin on that dainty hand. “you don’t take care of yourself either”

“Are you my caretaker now?” Ada teases with a smile on her lips, letting your gaze check the calloused skin of her palm. Not a secret for you that she knows how to use guns and the condition of her hands is just a confirmation of that.

“I may become one, is there a vacancy?” You tease her back and she rolls her eyes at your words. You know Ada isn’t annoyed, but still, it is entertaining to watch her little and subtle reactions to your words or actions. You reach for the pocket in your coat, a weird habit to keep a mini hand cream. It is useful when one travels around, but it has been a long time since you left the borders of this place. Maybe after this mess, who knows. You quickly removed the tap of the tube to butter the cream, gently spreading and massaging her hand. There is a silence between you, a calming and comforting one, not being afraid to not speak cause words are not enough to express yourselves. Her skin underneath your fingertips feels so dear to you, spreading gently cream as a light breeze hits your frame, bringing more of her perfume into your senses and you wish you were closer. With a final touch of this caring gesture, you bring her palm closer to your lips to press them shortly, to drown in the tenderness of the moment. You kept eye contact, to see her reaction and to someone else’s gaze she wouldn’t seem fazed, her own eyes can’t hide a wave of affection passing by. Your grip loosens and her hand finally retreats, a ghostlike feeling of her skin is still burning hot on your lips, like a short-lived mark. The rendezvous didn’t last long after that, enjoying the silence between each other until you had to separate.

“Thank you for this” a quick message after getting in your car, a little habit. She usually ignores your SMS. This time, three dots appear.

“You like wine?”

“I don’t have preferences, why?” You aren’t picky with alcohol when there is a need to forget something.

“Tomorrow night, me, gorgeous detective, and wine? ;)”

You can see your own face on the screen of your phone, looking so dumb right now; can’t keep that smile at bay, can you? This sounds like a date, but it is not one, is it? Maybe Wheel of Fortune still works well. Your ability to stay calm and control your emotions with her is so bad, that your colleagues would tease you if they saw you. Indeed a love-struck idiot. Biting your knuckles and trying to not text quickly back, she doesn’t need more evidence of your infatuation.

“Perfect, my place”

…

A glass of wine, another one after emptying the previous one in no time. Glass after glass, hands intertwining together and the minds are fuzzy thanks to the alcohol. Sitting in the kitchen, clinging to the feeling of touching her hand or play with her fingers like a giddy teenager.

“Ada?” You whisper, staring at her and observing her elegant stature.

“Mm?” She hums absently, looking down at her empty wineglass with a ‘barely here’ expression. Pausing cause your eyes noticed a gramophone, that wasn’t used in a while, but it still was kept with you in case there would be a need to use it. And it seems this is the perfect situation to dust off your old collection of vinyls. After making a little rattling, you are standing in front of the player, not really trying to choose a specific vinyl record, there are many of them and it is more exciting to choose something random without giving it too much thoughts. Not like your tipsy mind is good for this.

“Ada” your voice is a little bit louder, after putting a record on the player, as music gently fills the space between you both.

“Detective?” Her eyes dart to your face, meeting each other’s gaze; this is a perfect moment to pull her out of the table. You do that, feeling lightness in your head as you try to get into position for dancing, but failing miserably after a step. This is a reminder that you are a detective, not a dancer. You will blame this on alcohol, just in case. For a moment you regret this, maybe it was a bad idea to initiate a dance cause you suck at it, never took any dancing lessons, and for what? To have this skill buried and not used? Your awkward and clumsy movements seem to be amusing to Ada cause it seems a smile threatens to escape. Such an embarrassment. Standing there with a light blush burning your cheeks and trying to collect yourself. Yeah, alcohol is the one to blame.

“Cute” Her hands take yours to put one of them on her lower back, you hold her hand and she puts the other one on your shoulder. Of course, Ada knows how to dance. “repeat after me. One, two, three…” The rhythm is simple. One. Two. Three. Trying not to step on her feet, while she guides your movements as you repeat quietly the same words.

One…Two… Three.

Until they blend into the music coming from the vinyl player, spinning in circles in the living room, one step forward, another one to the side. It is simple enough. Ada seems to enjoy herself right now; black strands move with every step you take, her eyes are again full of something playful and tenderness that leaves you breathless. Your hand on her lower back pulls her closer, not noticing the closing distance between you. She squeezes your hand, feeling your fingers being intertwined. You can’t lie to yourself, this feels good like the only place to exist in this universe is this room. A long dream from which you wouldn’t want to wake up. For a brief moment, the music stopped with your bodies, short silence fills with heavy breathing before they get covered with new tones coming from the recorder. Music is still on, the composition changed but you don’t listen to it anymore. Your eyes linger on her lips, in a romance movie this would be a hot moment combined with love confession, but… It is weird, you can’t really let yourself indulge in something more intimate with Ada. You just stand there, your lips hovering over hers in a short distance. A kiss would be the next step, so… Why don’t you kiss her? Murder case, be professional. Something dug into your heart, aching longingly for something that never existed. The entire murder case feels like another lame excuse you pull to cover your inner turbulence over the betrayal of your work ethic. Three years passed and still can’t get over this, not accepting that you are no better than an incompetent asshole you call a coworker.

“Did you zone out?” Ada says, her fingers caressing your cheek, pulling you out of your self-loathing. Your lower lip trembles, trying to recollect yourself before nodding. She smiles, looking amused by this situation, and you are not sure if this is a bad thing or not.

“Sorry, I am not myself these days” you mumble, looking at her fingers before catching them in your gentle hold. Taking the moment to give a soft and quick kiss, before letting them go. Ada tilts her head and you don’t feel confident anymore to look into her face again. “… work is getting the best out of me” Standing silently, light sways of your bodies in the rhythm of the music as her chin rests on your shoulder and you are not sure if it is her heart you can hear, or just confusing with your one. You can feel her pressing more against your chest, any self-hated thought disappear as if they don’t exist and don’t torment you when your bed is empty, she is like a painkiller for you.

“It is late..” you say, pressing the button to stop rolling the recorder, while the other hand is still resting on her lower back. Keeping her close. Making a woman drive to her home sounds awful nor you should do that under the influence of alcohol - you are a respectable person, after all. Unfortunately or not, your place is not big, leading her to your bedroom. The room is silent, soft, and gentle silence, not threatening at all. You let Ada lay down while you sit down on the edge, the bed resounds at the weight of your bodies. Tonight, your coach is going to be the place to sleep, in spite of the need to join her too. The face of a dead man flashes in your memory, a good reminder to stay still and not fall in your weakness.

“And what if I did kill him?” Her murmur made you shiver and focus your attention on her frame - she looked at you with a heavy gaze. Your jaw tenses, swallowing hard at her timing. Can she read your mind? Her words feel like a cold tidal wave approaching from afar to swallow you deeply into its embrace, to fill your lungs but instead of salty liquid, it is your confusion.

“What?… Is that a confession? In that case, I should arrest you” jokingly you say, shrugging your shoulders, a motion to ease the anxiety throbbing in your chest. No answer. In the dimly lightened room, your eyes are still able to catch her just smiling at you, her fingers brushing against the inner skin of your wrist, a silent plea to focus on her. Your next words are a breathless whisper, wanting a confirmation of your suspicions. “… did you?” There is another pause like she is conflicted about what to say next.

“Don’t think too much, not good for your tipsy head” she whispers back, looking down at your wrist. Another vague answer but this was enough information for you. There is no reason to stay in this room, you return to the empty living room, leaving her to sleep in your bed silently.

…

You left early, she still was sleeping in your bed. December mornings are cold and dark, but today somewhat it is worse, the chilliness of the weather seeps into your bones in spite of wearing warm clothes, they don’t shield you from heaviness in the chest or the anxiety that makes your fingers numb - useless. The gloomy atmosphere of the morning made you realize how your mind is always responsible for the image of the world you see. Today even with the thought of Ada in your bed, it is dark and colorless. Maybe that’s an after-effect of the alcohol, not you, but at the back of your mind, it is just another lame excuse. You can’t really focus on anything, not something new these days. But this time your suspicions just got confirmed twice - the case will remain unsolved, and they won’t bring it back. No wonder, it is hard enough to catch members of criminal organizations and your precinct is full of incompetent and corrupt people. And Ada was probably just carrying out her commission, you should have arrested her after that confession, but also there are no evidences other than words to confirm, not really a reliable source.

Ada is probably not in the city anymore. This makes your heart ache.

The day came to its end, leading you back home. Like many days before all this, sitting on the chair with a glass of alcohol to make your head feel light and ignore your mind, likes to remind you about your gun. The idea of cold and sour metal of the barrel in your mouth has returned, but quickly buried with alcohol. This is a mess, a revulsive one, making you less vigilant about your surroundings. To your surprise, Ada is still in your apartment, you realize this after noticing her standing in front of you and looking down at your not-so-happy state. Her fingers gently reach for your chin, tilting your head to have a better sight of you right now, the touch burns on your skin, keeping silence between you alive.

“Bad day? Booze isn’t a good way to cope“ Ada was first to break it, her other hand brought a chapstick to your lips, softly and tenderly applying to them. It smells like cherry. You want to deny her touch, making a scene and throwing her out of your place. “it is a depressant, hon”

“…what are you doing here?” You ask, ignoring her words.

“What?” She pulls away her hands from you, leaving tingly remains on your face of her tenderness. You pause, trying to gather words as your eyes drift, hiding yourself from her. Not wanting to meet her gaze.

“You should go home, I… ” There is another pause from you, looking down at the floor for a brief moment before setting your gaze on the half-empty glass. Everywhere, but not on Ada. “I need to work, you are an obstacle” You know where it goes. You could take her in but you don’t, again. There is a silent understanding of what is going to happen now, a similar situation that led to bitter-sweet goodbyes before, but this time you will pray to every God that your ways will never connect again. Deep inside both wish for different circumstances, maybe a different reality where she holds you after a particularly hard day. But the image is weird, alien to you cause it wouldn’t be Ada, not her style. Something suggests, there are no other possible universes where both of you are together. Another realization hits you hard, maybe speaking before thinking was not a good idea in your case. This is one of the last moments of whatever you both had, there is no going back, you really won’t see her anymore. Dread and hope combine, creating another dark lump that tries to crawl out of your throat.

“I’ll see you around then” she says, glancing at the watch and trying to ignore her own growing turbulent feeling in her chest. Something is coiling around her neck, not visible to your eyes, making it harder to breathe. Similar to you. She needs to leave and this is hard to digest even to her. A weakness, but indulging in something sweet for the last time is worth it. The idea of not seeing her anymore is hard, there would be no giddy feeling every time you see her or little moments where you care for each other. You reach for her wrist, pulling Ada closer and the expensive sweet scent of her perfume embraces you in a gentle love. Looking into her face makes something stir in your guts again. Ada hides her expressions so well, but not from you; her eyes speak the truth, and the hint of bitterness and sadness rush and disappear in her gaze, making this separation harder to endure. Your lips brush on the flesh of her inner wrist like a ghost, giving soft kisses, while you try to imprint the feeling of her to your memory.

“Please, before you leave…” you murmur against her skin, looking up while holding her wrist in the gentle grip one would have with fine china. Since when does your voice hold such a plea for someone? It feels like tonight you are the most honest person in the world. You don’t feel ashamed or guilty anymore, only a deep grief over what this relationship could be in any other circumstances. But the night is long, you both have time. The time to not drown into the memory of your short time spent together that will torture you, this will throw you back into the same solitude before second reunion, if not worse. And hope fades like a dying candle. “For tonight. Just let me stay by your side a little longer”

[enluv]

the couples quiz <3

PAIRING! bang chan x fem!idol reader

SYNOPSIS! - back with enluv productions, we have our favorite idol couple to take the enluv couples quiz! - this consist of a multitude of questions asked by each of them to test how well they know their partner! enjoy <3

word count: 3,310 (and it’s all fluff 😁)

genre(s): interview styled writing + video layout chic (?) & so much fluff like it’s so cavity inducing you may need to call a dentist 🤭

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, both idols, profanity, nervousness, and I am pretty sure that’s all! (if I missed something lmk!)

coco’s love note: idea is based off the gq couples quiz videos !! please note that our reader is in an oc group I’ve made :)

[ video preview begins now – our idol couple are shown sitting comfortably in two opposing director chairs ]

Y/N: What’s our contact names on each others phones?

Chan: Oh that’s easy I have her as (he makes quotation marks with his fingers) “Y/N L/N” and in parentheses (he cups his hands to express them) “gf”

[the room falls silent as y/n stares shocked at chan]

Y/N: There’s no way…you’re so lying right? (her eyes are widened with shock)

Chan: Of course I am baby! Why would I ever just have you as your name? I have you as “future ms.bahng” (he smiles proudly displaying his contact name for y/n and her contact photo)

Y/N: I almost threw these cards at you for real Christopher! Don’t ever do that again!

Chan: What’s my contact name?

Y/N: Bang Chan dash Stray Kids. (she stares deadpanned at the camera before giggling at his expression)

Y/N: Now you know how it feels! I have you as “my love” it’s a bit simple but I just really love you.

[ end of preview - the screen cuts back to the couple as they first start the video and it begins ]

Y/N: I’m Cupid’s Y/N!

Chan: and I’m Stray Kids Bang Chan!

Y/N & Chan: and we’re taking the enluv couples quiz!

[the couples quiz logo pops up over them to signify the start of the interview – y/n’s questions are first]

Y/N: What’s an item of yours I always seem to steal?

Chan: Oh that’s obvious, she always steals my hoodies. All the colorful ones go to her!

Y/N: Correct! His fans always tell him to wear color but I think I’ve stolen everything with a decent amount of color on it…oops? Sorry stays!

Y/N: What’s something I always bring with me on tour?

Chan: Hmm well there are a few ways to go about this. You could be asking like sentimental items or like necessities.

Y/N: I wrote a list so if the items you guess are on it I’ll give you a point.

Chan: Oh god. (he shakes his head and looks up to show he’s thinking) I would say probably your first aid kit bag. She’s pretty clumsy and needs to have a band-aid on her at all times.

Chan: Oh also probably our son. Oh! I know the most important one is definitely your headphones. You don’t ever leave the house without them.

Y/N: Channie I think you need to elaborate on what our son means (she laughs pointing towards the production team) because they seem worried.

Chan: Oh right. Y/N and I have matching plushies that we won each other on our…hmm I think it was our fifth date? I took her to an arcade and they had claw machines. She got me a psyduck plushie it’s really big and I got her a bunny plush. We call them our sons and usually I’ll take the bunny and she takes psyduck. We care for them equally though! We aren’t absent parents!

Y/N: Okay you were right about all of those, you’re missing one thing though. This one is the most important one.

Chan: Babe…I thought I hit them all seriously…gimme a hint pleaseee….

Y/N: It’s something you gave me.

Chan: I’ve given you a lot of things Y/N.

Y/N: Can I just tell you?

Chan: No! I wanna guess.

[a compilation of chan guessing is played in x2 speed, y/n continues to answer no as he guesses]

Chan: I give up! Tell me.

Y/N: It’s my bracelet! (she laughs softly at his expression)

Chan: Oh god, I can’t believe I forgot about our bracelets!! (he holds up his right hand so the camera can see) We have bond bracelets!

Y/N: When you touch them it sends the other person a small vibration and it means that we’re thinking of or miss the other. They’re really nice since we work a lot and don’t see each other as often as we’d hope.

Chan: I touch mine a lot.

Y/N: Mhm he does, but so do I so I’d never complain.

Y/N: Have I ever written a song about you? And if the answer is yes, which one is my favorite.

Chan: Yeah, plenty of them.

Y/N: Woah okay no need to expose me sir.

Chan: Babe I’m not exposing anything, it’s kinda obvious…

Y/N: Just answer the question Chris.

Chan: “two souls” is your favorite and I know that because you worked on it for almost three months then gave it to me on my birthday.

Y/N: He’s right. That song is my baby, it’s so personal but I just really love it so much. He kept trying to sneak into my laptop to listen to it but I caught him every single time! He cried when he first heard it though so it was worth hiding.

Chan: I thought we promised not to talk about that sweetie.

Y/N: Next question!

Y/N: What was my first concert?

Chan: Oh man. I don’t think I know this one babe.

Y/N: Channie I promise I’ve told you the answer to all of these questions.

Chan: Okay can you tell me how old you were?

Y/N: No.

Chan: Please prettty? I think I’ll get it if I know how old you were!

Y/N: I was sixteen almost seventeen. (y/n sends the camera a wink)

Chan: OH! I’ve so got it then. I know it!

Y/N: Okay who was it then?

Chan: It was Seventeen sunbaenim!

Y/N: Ding ding ding! Correct!

Chan: I always forget how big of a carat you are seriously. She loves them. The kids are friends with them so it’s wild to see her interact with them.

Y/N: I’m good friends with them now, perks of being an idol, they always tease me too.

Chan: Who did you bias?

Y/N: Some secrets should never see the light Channie.

Y/N: NEXT!

Y/N: What’s my favorite food?

Chan: It’s Chipotle but you get the most mundane thing ever so you always throw in a side of chips and queso because you’re scared the workers roll their eyes when they see your order.

Y/N: That…what oddly specific…why did you expose me like that omg…embarrassing!

Chan: Babe you recite exactly what I just said every time you order Chipotle, literally word for word I know it by heart now.

Y/N: Feels like he’s attacking me a bit right guys (y/n turns to the cameras as if asking the audience)

Chan: I am not! You have said that to me a million times! It’s seriously engraved in my head.

Y/N: NEXT!

Y/N: What’s my favorite song that you’ve written that’s about me?

Chan: I know the answer but if I say it then fans are going to have a field day on twitter.

Y/N: How would you know? Been on twitter recently Chris?

Chan: (he stares at the camera and winks) I don’t have twitter, you know, idol things and all those logistics.

Y/N: Should we answer the question together?

Chan: Stop cheesing so hard, you did this on purpose didn’t you.

Y/N: Yes I did. Ready? 3…2…1!!!

Chan & Y/N: Red Lights

Y/N: What can I say! It’s a good song.

Chan: Is it my turn yet? I need to seek revenge.

Y/N: NOPE! Still me!

Y/N: How many pets do I have and can you tell me in which order I got them?

Chan: This is terrible because she had pets even before getting with me.

Chan: Okay here it goes. You have three pets, first one is Pickles, he’s a greyhound. Next would be Peanut, he’s a fish and he has a brother named Jelly. They count as one because they’re a pair, and finally we have Kimchi and that’s our gecko, I named him. (he smiles proudly at the camera)

Y/N: Four points! Wow babe good job!

Chan: What kind of dad would I be if I didn’t know our kids names?

Y/N: So true like imagine you forgot one I’d be so mad.

Chan: I know that’s why I got them all right.

Y/N: What’s my dream wedding look like?

Chan: I also know this answer, we talk about it a lot.

Chan: You want a small wedding with the most important people in your life, so like family and friends but also people who have helped you in your career as well. You want a summer wedding and want a pastel creamy green color to be the theme. It’ll be inside but you really liked the forest vibe from Twilight so the inside will be decorated to look like the woods.

Y/N: Okay woah. Do you have access to my Pinterest or something?

Chan: You say that like we don’t talk about getting married all the time. (he smacks his lips playfully at her)

Y/N: I am in love with you, seriously like on god dude.

Chan: Stop saying on god after you tell me you love me, we talked about this!

Y/N: He doesn’t like it because he says it sounds like I’m talking to a brother.

Chan: You sound like my nineteen year old sister!

Y/N: and I love her very much! We went shopping last time we went to visit them.

Chan: and you bought her $800 shoes.

Y/N: What can I say, I love all the bahngs!

Y/N: Last question Chris, let’s see if you get this one right! What was my first impression of you!

Chan: Oh you’re going there? I see how it is. (he fixes himself to sit straight up and looks at the camera) Our fans don’t know this story but Y/N hated me.

Y/N: (laughing to herself and gesturing to the crew again) They look so confused! He made it sound so bad, I just thought he was one of those really weird guys because, so basically we met at an award show and his group, Stray Kids, had been seated next to us.

Chan: We were so close we could touch arms.

Y/N: No truly! And it was funny because his entire group, and if you don’t know, they have eight members in total, all got up and went to the bathroom together. All eight of them! It was hilarious, I’d never seen any group do that!

Chan: We like to stay together. Safety in numbers!

Y/N: They came back after a while and almost missed getting their award. It was just so odd to me at the time but after that we started talking as the show went on and I thought he was super sweet and obviously he cares for his members.

[the couples quiz logo pops onto screen as the video depicts chan at the center, he flashes an excited smile at the camera]

Chan: Is it finally my turn? I’ll be honest I don’t have that many questions…but they’re pretty hard to answer. I don’t know if Y/N will be able to get them right.

Y/N: Don’t antagonize me Christopher! I know everything about you.

Chan: We’ll see about that.

Chan: First question! Before we went on our first date I had originally planned something else but it fell through, what was it and why didn’t we do it?

Y/N: Woah you’re going BACK.

Chan: Mhm, answer the question baby.

Y/N: This is a funny story that not everyone knows actually. Chan loves doing crazy things like he doesn’t do traditional dates ever, it’s always something outrageous that you least expect.

Chan: I want things to be memorable, plus if I have free time I don’t want to spend it sitting around, I want to go out and do things.

Y/N: He originally wanted to take me bungee jumping, (the camera pans to a laughing chan and the staff can be heard gasping) can you believe that! Bungee jumping for a first date!

Chan: It would have been memorable though, right?

Y/N: Yeah definitely. It didn’t happen though because he heard from a mutual friend of ours, Minnie, that I was really scared of heights.

Chan: I canceled the day super quick, the date was in two days and I called and had to cancel but I was honestly grateful I found out because imagine if I hadn’t known and took her to it? Memorable first date but not in a good way!

Y/N: I think maybe now I’d do it, but only if he’s with me because I trust him the most.

Chan: Wait really? Wait we’ll talk about this later, finish the story!

Y/N: Right! He took me swimming instead, it was a indoor private pool place and it was so much fun. He actually taught me how to swim.

Chan: It’s one of my favorite memories because I just knew I’d be asking her to be my girlfriend.

Y/N: Stop I’m going to cry if we get into this again!

Chan: I told her this last time we talked, how I knew she was the one for me our first date. She cried and then called her mom to tell her.

Y/N: My parents love him, maybe more than me to be honest.

Chan: What was the first achievement we got as a group that made me feel like I had made it?

Y/N: This feels like a trick question.

Chan: I promise it’s not.

Y/N: There are two answers because your first win is so memorable that I’d pick that one but you also always say you haven’t made it, because you’re still going, still reaching and setting goals and achievements for yourself.

Chan: You worded that perfectly. She’s right. First win on a music show was huge for us but honestly as a group we have a lot of goals and want to achieve them all, I don’t know if we’re ever going to truly feel like we’ve made it but seeing our fans celebrate our achievements always makes it feel like we’re heading in the right direction.

[the camera shifts and pans to y/n running her thumb on the back of chan’s palm, she whispers something in his ear before they continue]

Chan: What was my favorite sport growing up?

Y/N: Easy! It was swimming and you were really good at it.

Chan: Don’t say that they’re going to believe you.

Y/N: Babe I’ve seen those awards your mom has lining the walls of your house, trust me, you were good.

Chan: My dad owns a swim school so I swam a lot as a kid and naturally went on to compete at meets and stuff. If I wasn’t here doing this, I’d be a swimmer.

Y/N: He’s really good at it, and he taught me how to swim so like he’s a good teacher too.

Chan: I can’t believe I taught you to swim that memory is so engraved in my mind.

Y/N: Mine too! I could not learn for the life of me and then suddenly on my first date with him he taught me. That should tell you how good he is at swimming.

Chan: I don’t know if I’m good now but back then I wasn’t terrible.

Y/N: My boyfriend is so humble!

Chan: What’s one thing that you hate that I do but I love it?

Y/N: Sleeping in the recording room?

Chan: (he lets out a sarcastic laugh) Ha Ha Ha. Close but no.

Y/N: I don’t know, I don’t hate anything you do honestly.

Chan: Want me to tell you?

Y/N: You so want to tell me.

Chan: I do.

Y/N: Tell me.

Chan: It’s when I spend too long in the studio, so long that you have to come get me.

Y/N: You’re so….(she’s cut off by chan’s laughter)

Chan: Let me explain before you blast me in front of everyone!

Y/N: Mmm…go on…

Chan: I know you hate coming to get me but some of my favorite times are when you come because then we spend hours together listening to things I’ve made or messing around and recording things. It’s nice to have you so interested in what I do because I love you and I love music, it’s like my two favorite things are interacting and meeting one another.

Y/N: I hate you so much! You know I’m a sap, I’m going to cry you meanie, that’s so cute what even is this!

Chan: My revenge worked!

[the video cuts to the next clip and the viewer can see that y/n now has a tissue in hand]

Chan: Next question, who gave me advice when we first started getting to know each other and dating?

Y/N: Was it not one of the boys? You said you told binnie first no? So I’d assume him.

Chan: Nope! Guess again.

Y/N: No? Hmm I don’t know…maybe one of your other idol friends?

Chan: It was actually our choreographer.

Y/N: What? Really? Why?

Chan: They saw how stressed I was because I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend officially and it was making me distracted so they sat me down and made me spill what was bothering me. Funny too because when I told them they told me to just go for it, and I did and then later on they told me they were glad I had because I looked so much happier.

Y/N: Wow this tissue is being used to its fullest today. I am making a mental note to buy them anything they want right now like wow, imagine if they had never told you to just do it. Where would we be?

Chan: Still sneaking around to hang out as “friends” probably.

Chan: Final question, what’s the title of our new collab song coming out?

Y/N: Oh you’re terrible, did you even get permission to reveal this?

Chan: No but I feel like it’ll, a) this will be out by the time we announce it or b) I don’t have a plan B since I’m hoping plan A is successful!

Y/N: Stay please pray for your leader, he’s so going to get us in trouble for this!

Chan: Don’t say that pretty, have some faith in me.

Y/N: Our collab song is called “Here for you,” and it was written and produced by us.

Chan: It’s a love song if you didn’t guess that.

Y/N: I think they got that one babe.

Chan: Making sure they know it!

Interviewer: Can you tell us a little about the song?

Y/N: Well like Chan said, it’s a love song. It’s about finding the right person and immediately knowing they’re the one.

Chan: Immediately knowing they’re your person.

Y/N: We wrote it one night in the studio after fighting, nothing huge but we both had a bad day and it was intense, when you’ve been with someone for a while you have those days you know? He wrote something down to blow off some steam and so did I. We realized that we’d wrote one half of a song each. Then we put it together, fixed it up and made it that night.

Chan: It’s a really special song to us both, that’s why I’m so excited to announce it.

Y/N: We’re really excited to have you all listen to it.

Interviewer: Well thank you both for coming. We appreciate you making some time for us! 

Y/N & Chan: Thanks for having us! (they send a smile to the camera and bow in thanks to the crew)

Y/N: We had a lot of fun today, really thank you.

Chan: Maybe we will come back in like ten years, married, and all that and do it again!

[ the camera zooms out and in fades the couples quiz logo, you can see the couple as they whisper to one another after the director yells “cut” ]

ENLUV EXTRA:

Chan: Why do I love Y/N? That’s a big question to ask, and if I named all the reasons we’d be here for a long time, to put it simply she’s my soulmate, I don’t think there is anyone else in the world more right for me than her. She’s caring, fun, creative, so many more things and it’s like wow, people do exist like her out there and I was lucky enough to find her? She must be my soulmate.

Y/N: Why do I love Chris? Hmm let me think. As a society I know we don’t believe in soulmates, and for a long time I put no thought into them you know? But meeting Chan and being able to experience the love he gives, has honestly changed that for me. I don’t think there is anyone out there more perfect for me than him. I can’t put into words why I love him but I can try to describe it. It’s like when you find a new favorite thing to obsess over, and that becomes something you love so dearly but in the case of me and Chan, it’s that feeling on and on, it never falters and my love for it stays consistent.

[ the video ends with a black screen fading out the image of y/n from frame ]

coco’s <3 note: FINALLY SHE IS HERE! I’ve been talking about this fic for almost three months now 😭 and finally it’s done! Hope you all enjoy it as much as I do :) Thank you @odxrilove for being my beta reader for it! I love you wifey 😻🫶🏽 As always, feedback & rbs are always appreciated!

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