#what matters is queue and not the state of queue

[katebeckets]

how to say "I love you" in x-files [118/?] ⤷ 1.17 — “E.B.E.”

[tockamybeloved]

Just Remember I Love You

[mystiika]

wes tag drop

[astralis-is-typing]

Better with you beside me

⚝fic type: slice of life

⚝genre/contains: seungmin x gn!reader, college!au, fluff, comfort, established relationship, domestic af lol

⚝word count: 1.9k

⚝inspo: "Only" by LeeHi, and a prompt from this post by @novelbear

“Can we get stop by the café on our way back?” You groaned, sneakers dragging across the white tiles of the packed stationery store. Your boyfriend leaned closer, trying to catch your words over the din. You tilted your face towards him, repeating your words closer to his ear.

“There’s food back at your dorm,” Seungmin replied matter-of-factly, tutting at your forgetfulness and playfully flicking your forehead. “We made sandwiches before we left, remember?”

“That’s a whole train ride away,” you sighed dramatically, throwing your head back and rubbing your grumbling stomach for good measure.

“Okay, okay,” Seungmin conceded with faux exasperation, but the amused glint in his eyes was a dead giveaway. “We’ll grab brownies or something once we’re out of here.” He took your hand in his and gave a gentle tug, urging you through the aisle at a faster pace. A toppling stack of binder files narrowly missed his head, but he dodged out of the way just in time. “For now, can we get a move on?”

You grumbled a noncommittal reply, interlocking your cold fingers with his warm ones as you quickly sidestepped the sea of orange and purple files now scattered across the floor. Seungmin reached into the back pocket of his jeans and unfurled the battered shopping list that held your list of supplies. Almost every item jotted down in fading blue ink had been crossed off; it was a testament to the errand nearly complete.

You gripped the handles of the heavy plastic shopping basket tighter, the heap of notebooks, pens, and other supplies making your arm ache in protest as you weaved through the throng of bodies. Like everyone else in here, you’d waited till the very last minute to get everything you needed before the semester started next week.

“A coffee would do me wonders,” you murmured, eyes wearily scanning the packed checkout lines.

“I think everyone in here could say the same,” Seungmin chuckled, a cheeky smile playing on his lips as he took in your worn-out state.

The store was packed with baggy-eyed college students, who no doubt had spent these final days before the start of the semester catching up on work they should’ve completed over the winter break.

The two of you finally made it to the front of the long queue, Seungmin swatting your hand away as you tried giving your card to the cashier. She smiled softly as your boyfriend insisted on paying on your behalf.

“You forget that you’re also a broke college student,” you say, glaring at Seungmin as he thanked the cashier with a small smile and ushered you out of the store.

“Semi-broke,” he quipped, cooing at the expression on your face and poking your side. “You forget that ‘After School Club’ actually makes bank. Felix and Jeongin would’ve bailed out a long time ago if it didn’t.”

“Still,” you sighed, glare evaporating at the mention of Seungmin’s hilarious podcast. “I’d saved up for this stuff, you didn’t have to pay for me.”

The banter between the two of you carried on, bumping into each other every so often as you walked on. Making good use of Seungmin’s distraction, you managed to steer him all the way into your favourite café. Knowing him though, you suspected he could tell where you were leading him and simply let you have your way.

“Just one cappuccino,” you negotiated, left foot inching towards the café’s entrance. Seungmin noticed this and chuckled fondly, nudging it back into position with his own foot.

“You’re really something else.” He sighed, but made no move to argue.

“Is that a yes?” You asked in glee, the weight of your purchases forgotten as you happily swung your shopping bag at your side.

“No coffee though— you know what it does to you,” Seungmin said, shaking his head at your antics. “Get a hot cocoa or some tea. Same for me. You go ahead, I forgot I need to get something.”

“Okay, deal!” Smug from your supposed victory, you didn’t notice the way Seungmin’s lips quirked upwards as you gave him a quick peck on the cheek and walked into the café with a slight spring in your step.

—

It didn’t take long for you to find a cozy little corner to people watch after you placed your to-go order. The familiar scent of freshly baked pastries was a comforting contrast to the disorienting array of perfumes and colognes that bombarded your senses in the stationery store. You took a deep breath, sinking into the plush chair and allowing yourself to momentarily zone out. Contentment came easily these days; simply taking in the low music playing through the café’s speakers or the mellow chatter of groups sitting around tables in twos and threes did you a world of good. To simply exist for a few moments, not particularly focusing on anything.

Seungmin came back just after the waiter at the counter had called out your order. You rested your arms on the counter and watched him walk in as the waitress double-checked your receipt. His dark brown bangs fell slightly over his eyes, and he absentmindedly feathered them back into place as he casually strolled over to you at the counter.

“Ready to head back?” He asked, adjusting the tote bag on his shoulder.

“All set!” you confirmed with a nod, hands each balancing your shopping bag and your order.

“We’re not going to get very far like this,” Seungmin teased with a laugh, taking the small box of brownies from you and plopping it into his tote bag before relieving you of your loaded shopping bag.

“Aren’t you the man?” you teased back. Seungmin pulled a silly face at you in response, and you nearly dropped the two cups of hot cocoa you were holding from laughing.

—

“We’re literally four hundred meters from the train station,” Seungmin huffed incredulous. He bit back a laugh at how you were hunched over, empty cups in hand.

Shaking his head, Seungmin took the cups from you and tossed them into a nearby recycle bin before returning to simply stand by your side, arms crossed as he waited for you to recover.

The two of you must’ve been quite the sight— you, bent forward and groaning dramatically, while Seungmin stood stoically beside you, his expression deadpan.

“Piggyback ride,” you demanded, straightening back up with an exaggerated sigh.

“You’ve got to be insane!” Seungmin exclaimed. “The train station is right there.”

“No more,” you protested, shaking your head. “You said that ten minutes ago. Now, piggyback ride!” You clapped your hands once, stepping behind your wide-eyed boyfriend and patting his broad shoulders. “My feet are killing me,” you whined.

“Lazy,” Seungmin quipped, before sighing in defeat and letting you jump onto his back like a human backpack.

Grinning brightly at your small triumph, you ruffled his hair in thanks as your aching feet left the ground. Kim Seungmin was a tough man to beat, definitely seeing right through your exaggerated exhaustion. But he let you win anyway. Just because it was you.

—

The train rattled on, and you periodically turned to the window, letting the fading warmth of the sunset kiss your face one last time. Outside, the scenery blurred past in streaks of colour and light as you and Seungmin sat side by side, playing tic-tac-toe on a forgotten scrap of paper you had found on your seat. After yet another draw, Seungmin gave up, stuffing his pen into the front pocket of his jeans.

“This is ridiculous,” he huffed, playfully reprimanding you. “You use the same infuriating tactics every single time.”

“Hey! It’s the only way to play the game,” you argued in your defense, laughing at his despair.

“You always try trap me by placing your ‘X’ at the same corner!”

“What do you want me to do? Start at the middle?” Your face twisted in mock horror. Such a rookie mistake was far beneath your prowess.

Seungmin tutted at you, giving up before the argument could even begin. “You’re so stubborn,” he grumbled— then immediately blamed himself for it, claiming you’d picked up the trait from hanging out with him. With a sigh, he leaned in, wiggling his fingers in front of your eyes as if he wanted to poke them.

You barely reacted, of course.

It was one of his many odd habits, something you’d grown accustomed to long ago. You still remembered his first ever visit to your dorm, when he’d attacked your plushies, pressing his fingertips into their button eyes and laughing maniacally as if it were the funniest activity known to man.

So, it didn’t come as a surprise now when, instead of flinching, you instinctively shut your eyes and let the soft pads of his fingertips rest gently against your eyelids. You had long since stopped caring how this unorthodox display of affection might look to passersby.

It was moments like these when you felt most at peace.

The stillness of his quiet steady love made time stop for just a second. And that was enough to restore structure to your chaos.

Seungmin was your small but certain happiness, the subtleties of his love a constant reassurance that carried you through the longest of days.

“By the way, I got you something,” he said quietly. A rare, shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he fretted with your coat, reaching beneath the collar to tug out the bunched-up hood of your zip-up hoodie. You hadn’t even noticed that small discomfort, but he had.

Briefly acknowledging his help with a smile, you tilted you head, intrigued.

Seungmin reached into the depths of his tote bag beside him and turned back to you with red ears. “Here.” He held out a box to you. “I... got you headphones. So you can, you know, zone out in peace.”

Your breath caught.

There was silence for a beat, then another, and in this void you began to notice every other sound around you— the rhythmic click-clack of the wheels on the tracks, the soft hum of the engine beneath your seats. The rustle of a newspaper as someone nearby turned a page, the snippets of distant conversations that had previously blended into white noise.

You tried to sync your breathing with the train’s rhythm, grounding yourself as you processed what Seungmin had just said.

How well he knew you.

Seungmin, ever perceptive, understood your quiet. “I noticed how you get overwhelmed after… interacting so much,” he admitted, almost sheepishly. “So, here’s a way to slow down. I hope…”

Tears welled in your eyes as you took in his words. “It’s perfect.”

Beyond that, words failed you. All you could manage was pull him into a hug.

Seungmin welcomed it with a small chuckle, the sound muffled as his cheek was squished against the fabric of your coat. Your scent was familiar, an unspoken invitation that eased the last of his lingering anxieties about whether you’d like his gift.

He looked up at you from this angle, admiring the gentle curve of your smile. “I hope they make your semester easier,” he murmured earnestly. Then, adding with a mischievous grin. “And you needed to let those ancient earphones go.”

You rolled your eyes, classic Seungmin. You swatted his hair lightly as you released him from your hold. “But you already do.” Your voice softened. “Make my days easier, I mean.”

Seungmin smirked at that. “Don’t you ever worry,” he said. “You’re stuck with me for the long run. We’ll be alright.”

© astralis-is-typing 2025. Plagiarism is strictly prohibited. This is my intellectual property. Do NOT repost or translate my work on tumblr, wattpad, or any other platform.

⚝A/N: So excited to be back to writing fanfics! Last time I posted on here was like, August of 2023. I've grown a lot since then haha, both as a writer and as a person (I hope). Thank you for reading <3 I hope this story finds someone who's as obsessed with "Only" as I am lol.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Okay, so I’m weirdly into the idea of being someone’s estranged wife???

Imagine being Patrick’s estranged wife?? Like maybe he married you bc he couldn’t have Tashi and then just…never signed the divorce papers? And now he’s knocking on your door bc there’s a challenger he’s gonna play in buttttt his bank account’s a little low so could he pretty please crash with you? He’ll sleep on his couch and be on his best behavior, he swears

Queue him crawling into bed with you at 2 am bc it’s cold in the living room and you’re soft and pretty and whoops, he’s hard

Ooo love this

Warnings: Fingering, Patrick Being Patrick, bitter and estranged ex-wife Reader

"You have any chicken nuggets?"

"What are you, five?"

"Adults can enjoy chicken nuggets."

They certainly could, but you didn't grace that reply with a response, just watched with tepid interest as he rifled through the contents of your fridge.

A single phrase kept resounding in your mind:

I should've left him on the doorstep.

And maybe you should have. It wouldn't be the first time that you'd given Patrick the cold shoulder, and it wouldn't be the first time that he just parked in your driveway and slept in his car. But you just couldn't stand the sight of him out in the cold, pouting and gnawing on his lower lip in the fish-eye lens of your peephole.

"Why don't we order a pizza?" He tacked on.

We. It was always 'we' with him, but never in the action, or the cost—that was a 'you' action, not a 'we' more often than not.

"Who's paying for it?" You asked. Patrick turned to you with a dopey, guilty little smile affixed to his lips as he cocked his hip.

"Well until I sign the papers, the two shall be as one, right?"

"Yeah—Why haven't you signed, by the way?"

"Your guy's never been able to serve 'em." He turned back to the fridge, ducking his head as he looked around. "You got any beer?"

You rolled your eyes. "Third shelf, at the back."

"Bingo. Want one?"

"Not right now. But thanks for offering me something that I bought and paid for. Really appreciate it."

Patrick huffed a soft laugh as he turned toward you again, opening the beer against the edge of the counter.

"Mine mine mine," He teased. "What is it with you and what's yours, huh?"

"Just stating facts, Zweig."

"So self-righteous, Mrs. Zweig." He used your married name with a vinegary smile before taking a deep swig from his bottle, pointedly ignoring the way that you bristled. "So. Pizza?"

--

Just the couch.

Patrick had pleaded it between bites of pizza, scrubbing the back of his hand across his mouth to clear the crumbs and oil left behind. He'd framed it as a reasonable enough request, like it was the easiest thing in the world to let your estranged husband back into your home.

You won't even know I'm there.

As if you hadn't been fighting to find a harmony within yourself for the last year, trying to serve him papers for the last six months, to get your divorce to take, to rid yourself of his last name.

Watching him sort through the garbage bags of clothing that you'd packed up for him to come and take between tours had been a little pitiful, but he'd unearthed what he'd needed to sleep in.

"Still have a toothbrush for me?" He asked.

"No."

"Face wash?"

"Don't you just use soap?"

"Yeah, but you put me on that, uh—That regimen, that routine."

"You never followed it."

"So you threw the stuff out?"

"I wasn't using it, so. Yeah."

"Huh." Patrick straightened, PJs in hand. You couldn't help but watch him strip off as he passed you, eyeing the ripple of his back muscles as he tossed his shirt in the direction of his bag.

"I'm showering," He called over his shoulder, "If you'd like to join me."

"I'd rather chew glass, but thanks."

--

He was sleeping. He had to be, right? It didn't matter if he was or wasn't. It didn't matter that Patrick Zweig was asleep on your couch, just a floor away. It didn't matter that you were worked up, at the midpoint between pissed off and turned on.

How did he always manage to do that to you?

You should've been able to clock early on that it was trouble. None of your friends or family thought it would work out, and you'd been chagrined when they'd been right. For as much as you had once loved him, for as certain as you and Patrick had been sure you would fit, that you would fix whatever needed fixing, no matter what fate had in store for you, you just...Couldn't.

It didn't help that he had been chasing glory on the court, or that you had spent your relationship trying to fill the shoes of a woman that you could never be. It didn't help that the two of you were just fundamentally different, in ways that you either of you were unwilling to compromise. When he'd left, it hadn't been a surprise, but it had been so goddamn hard to serve him papers. But you'd had such trouble trying to pin him down during your relationship, why should the way you broke be any different?

But when you'd been in bed together—Hell, you'd been even more certain that it could work. You and Patrick just fit. Things had been so right with so little conversation or hesitation. Your needs had fueled one another's, and you'd been able to lose yourself in him. It should have been enough.

But it wasn't then, and it wasn't now.

He was asleep. He had a match the next morning, and he needed his rest. You could do the same—You should do the same. You needed to be staring at the ceiling right now like you need a goddamn hole in the head. You drew in a deep breath, closing your eyes and doing your best to focus on your breathing. In for five... Hold...Out...For...Five...In for...One...Two...Three...Four...

Your eyes opened, your breath catching as you heard the door open. You held completely still as you heard the door close again, chased by the soft pad of feet along your floor before the mattress dipped beside you. The covers shifted, lifting and falling as he laid down.

"Are you asleep?" He murmured. It was another moment before his palm skimmed across your belly, his rough cheek nuzzling against the curve of your shoulder. Your breath left you in a soft sigh, your muscles untensing bit by bit.

"I know you haven't been here in a while," You muttered, "But this is not the couch."

He huffed a soft laugh. "I know," He snuggled closer, and it was just a moment before you felt the press of his cock against your hip. You drew in a shaky breath, hands lowering to his arm.

"Patrick," You mumbled. "You should be asleep."

"I can't sleep." His teeth scraped along your jaw as his fingers snaked under the hem of your nightshirt.

"Indigestion?" You squeaked. "Shouldn't've had that third slice of pizza. I told you not to."

Your eyes squeezed shut as he rolled his hips against you.

"This feel like pizza to you?"

"Well—"

"Baby," He pleaded. "You gonna tell me you didn't miss me?"

It took you a moment, and you couldn't help your slight squirming.

"Not even a little."

He laughed again, and you knew that you hadn't been able to sneak a thing by him.

"You don't have to lie. I saw you watching me." He tipped his chin up, sucking a tender kiss to your neck. And you had, but—

"I wasn't."

Patrick tutted disapprovingly. You shuddered, arching up into his touch as his thumb skimmed across your hardening nipple.

"You're a shitty liar, you know that?"

"You're an asshole," You hissed as Patrick lifted his head.

"You like it."

You couldn't get a word out to argue as Patrick's tongue swept between your lips. You whimpered in spite of yourself, sinking back against your pillows and raising your hand to fist in his hair. He was over you in a moment, body shoving your thighs wide as his hands rucked up the bottom of your sleep shirt. You drew in a sharp breath as his head dipped to catch one of your nipples between his lips. You tightened your grip on his, shivering as he teased it with his tongue.

Patrick's hips ground against yours, rolling against where you're growing slick in your sleep shorts.

"How long's it been?" He murmured, "Huh? Since me?"

And it was too embarrassing to say—too embarrassing to admit that you hadn't slept with anyone since Patrick left.

"Shut up," You hissed, "Just—Please, shut up."

His hand snuck beneath the hem of your shorts, swiping gently across your tender clit, and he grinned as your hips hitched up into his deft touch.

"S'okay," He cooed as he eased a couple of fingers into your tight, aching cunt. "I missed you, too."

--

"You gonna come watch me play?"

As with the rest of the last day or so, your answer should be no. You didn't turn to look at Patrick as you rummaged through your dresser for something to wear.

"I've seen you play, Patrick."

"Not lately." He tried again: "It's a challenger."

You hummed, giving a noncommittal shrug as you pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a shirt.

"...Well can I stay here tonight?"

"If you win, sure."

"How will you know I win if you don't come see me?"

You rolled your eyes, hip-checking your drawer shut before pulling up your pants and tugging in your top.

"Fine. Just tonight. You'll have to find somewhere tomorrow night."

"I'll have the prize money by then, I'll crash at a motel."

"Oh, a motel. Hey big spender," You drawled, heading for your door.

"Hey."

"What?"

"You have the papers here?"

It stopped you dead in your tracks, your stomach churning with unease as you looked at him again.

"...What?"

"The divorce papers," He clarified. "I can sign 'em while I'm here."

It would be so easy. It would be so easy to go down to your office and draw the file out of your desk drawer, to plop it down in front of Patrick with your favorite black ballpoint pen, to flip between arrow tabs and instruct, "Sign here, here, here, here, here, and here."

But you found yourself shaking your head.

"I don't have a copy," You fibbed. It took Patrick a moment before he nodded a little.

"Can you get them?"

Hell, were you that out of practice? One night back in bed with you and he was ready to call it? But you were certain that wasn't it—That Patrick was, for once in his goddamn life, trying to make it easy on you after so much hell.

"...Maybe, I don't know," You shrugged. "It's the weekend."

"Okay."

"Coffee?"

"Yeah—Hey."

"What?"

You watched as Patrick pulled the covers away, unashamed of his nakedness as he strode toward you. He grasped your chin, tipping your head for a soft kiss. It took everything in you not to melt into him as he skimmed his hand over your hip, drawing back just enough to give you a sleepy, hazy smile.

"Good morning."

You couldn't help your own, indignant smile.

"Sure, Patrick." You turned away, determined to push on with your day, your life like he wasn't there—like he wouldn't be hanging over you as you made breakfast, or dominating the court as he played, or in your bed again in just a few hours. "Good morning."

[sapphicteadragon]

Link Click season 3 untranslated text

Hey yall! Since the subs on the new season of Link Click are ass (who would have thought) and also don't translate any of the on-screen text, I figured I'd just compile my translations of all of it in case anyone's curious.

These are all the texts from episode 1, as follows:

"Partner, let's play basketball together again tomorrow~" (the 啊 gives it a cutesy/friendly tone)

Top: But you do know

Bottom left: that once the contract is established, no matter whether you succeed, you will have no way of going any further into the future

Bottom right: After it is complete, your soul will dissipate, and regret will be to no avail.

Hmm... in order to do my utmost to save the things I treasure, what is there to regret!

Bilibili Message

"Ranxi Chronicles" The signing event will begin next Saturday at 15:00. Every person will have three minutes of interacting time, and must book a slot in advance to obtain a signature or drawing. The order is determined based on the on-site queueing order.

BILI SEARCH (these are the same characters as bilibili, which is a fun easter egg)

"How to become a comic artist" (search)

1: how do I become a comic artist? Suggestions from those in the profession

Not only must you have a grounding in basic skills, you must also unceasingly practice and learn. You can do this by drawing sketches, and practising tracing lines until your foundation in drawing skill improves.

2: How do I become a qualified comic artist?

You first must set your mentality straight and clearly set your objectives. Your objectives must be established on the foundation of a strong mentality. If you want to become a comic artist, there is no harm in first asking yourself why you have this kind of goal.

3: How to become a comic artist? The state of comic artists in the profession

This specialisation is not as bright and pretty as it appears on the surface. The living and working conditions are also not as satisfying as you might imagine; right now they truly are frugal. (the word used here means skinny/sparse) So, listen to my advice:

SKY5690: There's no future in it, you won't earn any money in the first place

RAIN1352: Run away fast

CAT7931: Haven't slept in 3 days

Shen San Shui (lit. sink in three waters)

Today I went to a comic con, and joined a signing event for my favourite comic artist. I was inspired in no small measure, and from now on I plan to advance courageously on the path of becoming a comic artist! Fortunately a demon girl-jiejie (jiejie means sister, but is also used to refer to an older female friend/acquaintance) helped me find something very important, and if it weren't for her, I definitely wouldn't have been able to muster the courage. But this demon girl-jiejie left something of hers with me, and I have no way of finding her. If anyone knows this jiejie, please contact me anytime!

Description: wearing a demon girl cosplay, around 160cm tall, shoulder-length black hair

Top: My sister was hospitalised again today, the doctor said

Middle: My sister's treatment costs are accumulating. If the investment path is good, and you choose the right one, then the path will naturally be magnanimous

Bottom: Today's profits are in. I rarely do anything luxurious, can't forget to reward myself with food and drink while rushing about~

V: Xun-ge, the profits you entrusted me to handle before have arrived in the account <3

X: Heavens, you're impressive

V: Hehe, next time I can try investing a little more, and can earn even more <3

"Sorry I couldn't get there yesterday, can we meet up again? I want to chat with you"

That's all for episode 1, there weren't any in episode 2 that I saw. If I missed any please tell me and I'll add them, and I'll keep an eye out for any text in the upcoming episodes!

[bubblebaththoughts]

Aphrodisiacs

Neteyam x Fem!Omatikayan!Reader

kinkmas masterlist

warnings: 18+ MDNI, dubcon for both parties, drug-like state, rough p in v, both uncontrollably horny, pre-established friendship, Neteyam and Reader are pining eachother but neither can make a move untilllll…

translations:

Syulang - flower

txe’lan - heart

tanhi - bioluminescent freckles

kuru - neural queue

“Keep up!” You yelled back to him

“I’m trying! Damn it!” Neteyam called up to you “Just, just wait for me!”

“I always wait for you Neteyam- Ah!” You scream, tripping onto the ground

As you fall out of Neteyam’s line of sight, panic courses through his veins.

“Syulang! Are you alright?” He called out as his pace sped up to find you

“Neteyam!” You call back “I- Something- happened!”

Neteyam approached you carefully, peering over silently.

You laid there on the ground, a pink dust covering your chest, along with a heavy sweat.

“Are you alright, Syulang?” He asked, towering over your body

“Mmm… Teyam, it hurts…” You whine, trying to reach for him

Neteyem drops to his knees by your side. “What hurts? Tell me what happened, it’s alright.”

“Something, poofed, in my face.” You tried to explain as you uncomfortably tried to also sit up

“Poof?” He reaches down, helping you sit up

Suddenly, he knew what you meant.

Poof.

He was suddenly in a pinkish-lavender haze as you invaded all of his senses.

“Uh- Um, where did you say it hurt, Syulang?” He asked, trying to compose himself

“Mmm.” You take him by the hand, guiding it to your chest. “txe’lan…”

Then you bring his hand lower, to your lower stomach. “Here feels empty…”

Empty… unfulfilled… yearning.

“Eywa help me.” He whispered a silent prayer as the drug-like-dust engulfed his mind

You didn’t remember who initiated it… you didn’t even really care. And neither did he.

It seemed that all you cared about right now was begging Neteyam to go deeper.

It was like a constant instruction in Neteyam’s mind: “In and out. In and out.”

He couldn’t even begin to count how many times you both had cum.

Like right now for example.

Your teeth were sunk into his shoulder as you tried to hold in a scream, and he was uncontrollably rutting into you like an animal.

He felt like an animal, but he couldn’t help himself, the feral feeling of needing to be inside of you overcame him.

He felt like he was being burned every time he would even try to pull away from you.

You clung to him desperately as you were just as deep into it as he was.

You might have been worse, you got the brunt of it.

It was like you never stopped whining, never stopped whining for him, or his cock, his tongue, his fingers, him.

All that you were able to think about was how good it felt for him to be thrusting into your right now.

No matter how many times either of you had cum, it was never ending, never enough. Neither of you could be satisfied.

It was unlike any rut or heat either of you had ever experienced.

More like you had both been hypnotized and this was the only thing stopping the both of you from actually going crazy.

“Ah- Uh! Fuck!” Neteyam called to you as he thrusted one more time, spilling into you for the umpteenth time today.

It was dark now, but the bioluminescent plants lit up the clearing.

You two lit up the clearing, your tanhi glowing brighter than ever.

Knowing Neteyam since birth, you saw a lot of him, all the time. You had memorized the pattern of his tanhi, how many there were on him, and where he glowed the brightest.

He nestled his head into your neck as he pulled out, making you whine for him. He peppered kisses on your neck while reassuring you that it was okay.

Neteyam slunk down in between your spread legs, watching as his load poured out of your pussy.

“So pretty.” He smiled up at you, making you whine

“Neteyam, it hurts.”

His hand gently squeezed your thigh, to let you know that everything was alright.

You can feel his breath against your clit, and you gasp in pleasure as his tongue circles around it. He licks and suckles, and you can feel the pleasure radiating from your core.

He moves lower, and you feel his tongue slide inside of you. He teases and teases until you can feel yourself close to cumming. He moves his tongue up and down, forcing you to get closer and closer.

And then, you feel his fingers slide up and find that spot inside of you. He moves his tongue and fingers in a rhythm, and you can feel yourself trembling with pleasure as you come. He continues to move his tongue and fingers until your orgasm fades away, and he slides his fingers out of you.

You feel his lips press against your neck, and you can feel his breath against your skin. You can feel his warmth radiating through you as he holds you close.

You push him on his back, sitting up to straddle him.

Immediately, you sink his throbbing cock back inside of you, a guttural moan escaping your lips.

Everything felt raw, like a throbbing open nerve.

“I wanna- I wanna.” He whines up at you

“What? What do you want?” You whine back as you ease down on him

“Want you.” He growled “Mine.”

He leaned up, holding you by the throat and roughly thrusted into you.

He worked his hips hard against your ass as he speared his cock deep inside of you. You relax against him, letting him completely take over.

“Want you to be just mine.” He whispered to you “All mine.”

You whimpered as you felt his hand tug on your kuru. “I want to- ah! I want to be yours Teyam.”

“For life.” He clarifies “As my mate.” He grunts as he continues to thrust into you

“Teyam!” You cried, completely falling apart in his arms, becoming similar to a rag-doll as he fucks you senseless

“How do you feel about that Syulang?” He whispered to you, “Mine forever?”

“Please Neteyam! Wanna be yours!” You cry

He smiles, pulling you against him tightly. One more thrust and he’s done for, spilling inside of you once again today.

The intense burn for you never stopped, his stilled inside of you, pulling you impossibly closer and holding onto you for dear life.

“Wanna make the bond.” He whispered to you quietly

“Tsaheylu?” You whimpered

“Mhm.” He moaned in your ear

“Please!” Your voice breaks him, it cracks as you cry out to him, begging him to make the bond.

His hand gently takes yours, letting the thick braid run over his fingers before he brought it up to your face.

The small tendrils dance around, a shiver runs down your back as you watch it.

Neteyam uses his free hand to grab his own Kuru, bringing it close to yours.

The sight was similar to watching magnets. Both of your queues had a magnetic pull to each other.

You bring your own hand up, and you gently ease your finger over the tendrils on his, making him gasp as they grip onto your finger

“Ah- Ah! Syulang! Mmm!” He moaned out as you played with his most sensitive part

You pull your finger away gently to relieve him.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He emphasized the “You.”, a worried look on his face, “Because I- I’m completely sure about you, you’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

“All I’ve ever needed was you, Neteyam.” Your bright eyes shined up at him

Neteyam smiled down at you, his eyes now shining as well.

You took a breath before continuing, “I… I see you, Neteyam.”

“I see you.” He beamed at you, “I love you, so much.”

“I love you too.” You gushed

Slowly, he began to bring both queues together. And suddenly, the emptiness feeling you’ve felt since being sprayed in the face by that plant, was gone. Completely filled by Neteyam.

A moment of complete comfort. Complete clarity. Like this was meant to be. Written in the stars. Designed by Eywa.

“I see you!” You cried out to him again

“I see you, my love. I see you.” He embraced you, holding you impossibly closer. “I am with you forever.”

You lean up, kissing his lips passionately.

Neteyam takes care of you in the most tender and loving way. He wraps you up in his embrace, holding you close until the aftershocks of pleasure have faded away. He kisses your forehead and tells you how beautiful and special you are to him. He makes sure you are comfortable and taken care of, and that all of your needs are met.

Gently, he finally pulls out of you, coming down from the intense high of the pink dust. He soothes you with quiet praises, telling you how good you were for him, and that he was so proud of you.

You can feel the love radiating from your lover, and you know that you are safe and cherished in his arms. His touch is gentle and caring, and it's exactly what you need after a day of constant passionate sex. With just his touch, you can feel the bond between you growing even stronger.

taglist: @danniackerman @loaksslut

[allthesethingswillendsoon]

Long, long time

CHAPTER FIVE: There's a first time for everything

SUMMARY: Seventh grade marks some memorable firsts for the girls, both good and bad.

NOTE: Okay whoopsie this lowkey took me ages, but it's over double what I said it would be the other day, but it's not proofread, so if there are any mega plotholes just let me know. I don't mind this one, I think it could've been better but also it's like quite a memorable one for their plot development so like yeah. Also I'm thinking of also posting this on ao3 because I prefer reading on that platform so tell me if you think that's a good or bad idea. Okay, I hope everyone likes it and thinks it's semi-worth the wait.

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Warnings: Little bit of angst, Jealous Paige 6.6k words Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

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20th of FEBRUARY, 2015

OAKRIDGE, VIRGINIA

It was a normal, seemingly average Tuesday when it happened.

Paige woke up, she chucked on her clothes and went downstairs. She said a quick goodbye to her dad as he left for work and ate cereal at the kitchen counter. When the clock hit eight she grabbed her backpack and locked the front door. Azzi was waiting at the front gate as always.

They walked to school at a not too slow-not too fast pace, Azzi chattering about her crazy dream the night before - something about gingerbread men and a zombie apocalypse. From the moment they started walking to the moment they stopped, the dark-haired girl made a point to fill the air between them with consistent conversation, not that Paige minded, it was nice to just listen sometimes. 

The first bell rang as they entered the school, and the best friends parted ways for their classes, Paige to Maths and Azzi to French. First period rolled into second period, which rolled into third period. Finally, after an agonizing three hours of education, it was time for lunch.

Tuesday was renowned for having the best lunch, mac and cheese. It was simply mind blowing that the lunch ladies -who were almost always one health code violation away from unemployment- were able to create such delicious food. Each bite was other-worldly, the perfect ratio of pasta to sauce. And after such a draining morning, every student at Oakridge Middle School was absolutely desperate for a taste of heaven.

Paige scoffed at the line of eager kids waiting for their bowl, amateur hour. If they were smart they would have known that you’re allowed to get two bowls, if Miss Amanda likes you that is. All Paige had to say on the matter was that Miss Amanda loved Azzi, arguably more than her own daughter. So, with a proud grin, Paige waltzed her way past the queue over to her lunch table.

Azzi and Paige had sat together at the same lunch table every day since they started middle school. They shared their table with a few other girls in their grade, who they were friendly with. It was a peaceful arrangement, and the cohabitation worked well for both groups.

As she neared the table, Paige felt her heart drop, something was very, very wrong. The state of the cafeteria could be described as pure pandemonium. Each pre-teen wolfing food into their mouths like their lives depended on it, and some of the most violent line-cutting techniques could be observed. Paige herself had been looking forward to their silent lunch break, expecting both her and her best friend to be fully focussing on their food as was normal on a Tuesday.

So, when her table came into sight, there was no doubt that something horrible had happened to Azzi Fudd. The scene was comparable to a renaissance painting, amongst all the chaos sat Azzi, two glorious bowls of mac and cheese in front of her, both of them perfectly untouched. She was staring ahead, eyebrows furrowed as if she was deep in thought. 

There were many things Paige didn’t like about the world, but the thing she liked the least was seeing Azzi distressed. With a deep breath she walked over to the table, prepared to beat up whoever it was that had messed with her best friend.

“Hey Az!” Paige exclaimed as she sat down, her voice filled with so much enthusiasm it seemed almost fake.

“Hey Paige.” Azzi responded, glancing at her with that same pensieve look she’d had when she was sitting by herself.

Okay, now this was concerning. Not to be too full of herself or anything, but Paige was usually a fix-all for any of Azzi’s bad moods, so the fact her presence changed nothing, was definitely an issue. 

“Everything good? You look a bit upset.” 

“No, I'm not upset.” The younger girl answered, giving absolutely no sign of not being upset.

“That’s good, I’m glad to hear that.” Sure, she was glad to hear her best friend say she wasn’t upset, but that statement didn’t mean much when the best friend in question looked like she might drop dead from stress in the next minute.

Just before she was able to continue her investigation, Azzi took in a big breath, as if trying to breathe in all the courage she could, before she started, “Listen Paige, I need to tell you something.”

Oh god, what could it be? A death in the family? An illness? She didn’t even want to think, could she be… moving? No. No. That was not the time for spiralling. Paige took a moment to compose herself. Azzi was clearly upset by whatever was happening, and the last thing Paige wanted was to make her even more upset by reacting anxiously. 

In the most calm tone she could muster, she asked, “Okay?”

“I’ve been keeping a secret from you.” Azzi said. She had clearly tried to sound confident, but the words came out sounding oh-so very sad.

“What? You’re a mob boss or something?” She joked, hoping to take away some of the tension that Azzi seemed to be drowning in.

“No, not that.” She deadpanned. Now, Paige was aware that it wasn’t her best joke, but she still thought it deserved a little laughter. 

Normally Paige’s crappy dad jokes were enough to take Azzi’s mind off whatever was troubling her for at least a second, but nothing was cracking her shell. For a moment, Paige let her composure slip, “Just tell me Az, you’re really stressing me out.”

Then, Azzi’s stressed exterior slipped, giving way to a softer look, the one she saved for Paige, “Okay, so you know Aaron?”

Paige ran through a mental list of kids in their grade before she questioned, “Aaron B or Aaron W?”

“Aaron B.” Azzi replied. It was probably a trick of the light or something, but Paige swore that as her best friend answered the corner of her mouth flickered up into a smile.

“Yeah I know him. Didn’t he pee his pants sleepwalking at sixth grade camp or something?” Paige chuckled at the memory, there was nothing like the silly fun of a school camp.

“That was Aaron W, not Aaron B.” Azzi stated matter-of-factly. 

Not laughing at the mob boss joke, sure Paige could get that. But not laughing at the thought of a twelve year old sleepwalking and sleep-peeing, simply unheard of.

Paige usually had pretty thick skin, but for some reason Azzi’s reaction mellowed her out, “Oh, right.”

For the second time, Azzi softened, her gaze meeting Paige’s almost apologetically, before she continued, “Anyways, so Aaron B?”

It was weird, the way she was acting. Her worried demeanour was a stark contrast to the urgency and statementness of her words. It seemed as if Azzi had been tasked with telling Paige this secret with as little personality as possible.

“What about him?” Paige questioned, deciding to help the younger girl move her explaining along.

“Well…” Azzi started, before suddenly developing the most intense interest in staring at literally anything other than the blonde girl sitting with her. A solid minute of silent waiting passed by, with Paige waiting to see what she had to say, and Azzi questioning if it was too late to back out.

Just when Paige thought she would never hear her best friend speak again, Azzi blurted, “He asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“What?! Paige near-yelled, she had almost stood up from the table in her outrage,“You said no, right?!” 

Who did this chumbag think he was? Asking the Azzi Fudd to be his girlfriend? 

God, it must have felt great for Azzi to put him in his place.

Nothing in the entire, ever-expanding universe could have prepared her for the words that came out of her best friend’s mouth, “I said yes.”

The words dropped like a bomb, waves of shock almost knocking Paige to the ground.

“What the fuck Az!? Why!?” This time Paige stood up from the table, hands slamming down, shaking the bowls of mac and cheese, before Azzi pulled her back down.

She got this shy look on her face as she spoke, her cheeks and ears burning, “I dunno. He’s cute, and he’s nice and funny.” For the first time during that lunch break, Azzi smiled. It was a different smile, one Paige hadn’t seen before. Once she saw it, she immediately wished she could unsee it. There was something about that smile, it held a different weight than her usual ones, like it meant something more, something deeper than when she smiled at Paige.

There was only one explanation, Azzi had gone crazy, and as her lifelong best friend, it was up to Paige to talk some sense into her, “Yeah, so what? I’m all of those things, doesn’t mean you’re gonna date me!”

Paige’s words settled in the air as Azzi returned her gaze to her. For the third time Azzi’s demeanor softened. She looked at her with such lightness, as if the weight of her vision would crack Paige’s skin open. Normally she liked it, but normal definitely did not include her best friend dating some random boy she barely knew,

Paige knew she was strong and she didn’t like to be babied, her exterior was tough and hard to break. The only people she ever really let loose around was her dad, and the Fudds. She knew none of the kids at school would ever be able to pick it, but she was a major dad’s girl. Not in the stereotypical, ‘pink princess’ way, but just in the way that her Dad was her hero, and Bob gave everything he had and more to Paige no matter what. With the Fudds, they were like the extended family she had never really had, being with them was great, she knew she was like a daughter to Katie and Tim, and like a sister to Jon and Jose. That being said, they were the people who saw her at her highs and lows, and they knew when to go hard or easy on her.

But with Azzi it was different. With Azzi she let herself go soft, let her guarded exterior turn mushy. Paige couldn’t count the amount of times she had cried over her mom, over life, tucked into the crook of Azzi’s neck. She would look at her with those soft eyes, and Paige knew it wasn’t patronising, she knew Azzi would never hold her moments of vulnerability against her. It was the only time she would ever let herself be unguarded. 

But in that moment not even the look on Azzi’s face could make her feel better.

Yet, the whole situation was somehow made worse when Azzi spoke again, “It’s different Paige. Surely you’ve had a crush on someone before, it’s just different.” 

With her words, some deep-seated anger arose from Paige. It was a weird feeling, being upset with Azzi - it had never happened before. Why would she say that, “It’s just different.”? Like their friendship meant nothing in comparison to her snapchat streak with a un-potty trained seventh grader.

“Yeah whatever Az.” Paige spat, her voice dripping with venom, “Why don’t you go and change his diaper or something?”

That time, Paige’s words were the ones to shock Azzi, “Why are you mad at me?!” Confusion was etched all across her face. “And also I told you that was Aaron W not B!”

“Same-same. Now if you don’t mind I have some Mac and cheese to eat.” Paige spoke dismissively, turning to give her full attention to her mac and cheese as she poked at it.

Paige avoided eye contact with Azzi like her life depended on it, not even daring to glance at her as she stared at her from across the table. It wasn’t until the second end-of-lunch bell rang that Azzi finally got up, leaving Paige to sit there with her thoughts.

And for the first time ever, Paige sat without Azzi at the table, and binned two, full bowls of mac and cheese.

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24th of FEBRUARY, 2015

OAKRIDGE, VIRGINIA

Paige had never considered herself a violent, or mean person. But there was just something about seeing Azzi and Aaron together that made her want to scream and yell and throw things. There were just so many things to dislike about Aaron, it was really hard to pinpoint exactly what made him so horrible.

Objectively speaking, he wasn’t ugly per se, but he definitely wasn’t a looker either. He had a button nose, a sharp jawline, clear skin, and bright green eyes. 

When she put it like that she knew that it sounded like he could be attractive - but he was not. 

Looking at Aaron was a jarring experience. It had never occurred to Paige how creepy-looking he was until Azzi started dating him.  Aaron had managed to ruin her brooding time, she couldn’t glare at her best friend without seeing his ugly face, or hearing his revolting voice - or worse, his laugh.

When she heard two girls in English talking about how lucky Azzi was to be his girlfriend she barely stopped herself from turning and strangling them both, and instead shut her mouth as tight as she could, and clenched her fists till her knuckles were pure white. 

To take her mind off the situation, she imagined him as a child, coming home from yet another lonely, friendless day at school to find his mother hosting an afternoon tea with her friends. They would fawn over him, and say “You’re going to be such a heartbreaker!” as they pinched his cheeks. Of course, they all knew it wasn’t the truth, but that’s just what you say to unfortunate looking kids, who grow up to be unfortunate looking pre-teens that ask out girls way out of their league.

Maybe what irked her was the fact that Azzi had smiled when she spoke about him, that saying the things she liked about him broke her out of her broody trance. Or maybe it was the way her cheeks had tinted the prettiest pink. How the galaxies in her dark brown eyes lit up a thousand times brighter. How the dimple in her cheek popped when she hung out with him, how her laughter at his shitty jokes echoed through the halls, honey sweet and sing-songy.

It was only when she came upon that specific reason for not liking him that she realised that maybe that gnawing, sour feeling that had settled low in her belly was something more akin to jealousy. And then, in the same strand of thoughts she decided to stop thinking altogether about why she didn’t like him, and instead just double down on the fact that Aaron sucked and she absolutely hated him. 

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27th of FEBRUARY, 2015

OAKRIDGE VIRGINIA

The final nail in the coffin came when Paige left her third period Spanish class. 

It was a Tuesday, which meant the best mac and cheese in the world. But it also meant it had been a week since Paige and Azzi had last spoken.

If avoiding Azzi was an olympic sport, then Paige had become a twenty-time gold medalist.

 For the first few days they weren’t talking, Paige made a point to stay in Azzi’s vision. She had decided that if she had to be reminded of the emptiness of Azzi in her life, then Azzi should be reminded of Paige. She made sure to be subtle with it, instead of standing directly in front of her, she’d ensure that Azzi would catch glimpses of her from her peripheral vision. Paige would watch as Azzi would spot her, then she would force herself to keep a straight face as she watched her best friend apologise to Aaron for forgetting what it was he had been saying.

That whole thing had been going perfectly, exactly to plan, but then it just started to make her really sad and really angry, and then, of course, her only option was to avoid Azzi, no matter what it took.

She thought it would be simple, she knew Azzi's entire timetable, she knew which hallways she walked down, she wouldn’t be surprised if she could estimate the amount of steps it took for her to get from point A to B. So in theory, it should’ve been smooth sailing to stay away from her, but nothing in her life had been easy, except Azzi - up until that point.

Aaron simply had to ruin, not only her friendship with her best friend, but also her ploy to never see her again. Obviously, because she wasn’t weird, she had absolutely zero idea about Aaron’s timetable, let alone his whereabouts, and in the past week the boyfriend-girlfriend duo had become attached at the hip, meaning it was nearly impossible to avoid them. The key word being nearly.

Paige had been working tirelessly to avoid the both of them, and somehow she had been able to manage it. Her genius strategy? Waiting till the second bell to leave for her next class. On the negative side, she had sprinted away from basically every hall monitor in the school multiple times. But on the positive, she had not seen Aaron and Azzi together in days, which was basically all she wanted.

As glad as she was to not see them together, it was the first time ever that Paige wasn’t on speaking terms with Azzi, and it made her really, really sad. Which was why she wasn’t thinking straight when she left third period Spanish and walked her usual route to the cafeteria - out the language corridor, round the gym, past Aaron and Azzi holding hands, then home-free into the cafeteria.

What. The. Actual. Fucking. Fuck.

Paige isn’t a squeamish person in the least, but the sight of Azzi’s soft hand encased in Aaron’s sweaty one nearly made her throw up. It was surreal, it felt like time had paused, like Paige was floating in time, stuck in place staring at them as they walked hand-in-hand down the hall.

She could have stayed in her trance all day, glued down in the centre of the hallway, but thanks to Mac and cheese Tuesday the hordes of smelly tweens are pushing her forward towards the cafeteria.

Just like the week before she walked past the lunch line and went straight to her table. Since Azzi had been sitting with Aaron and his little minions, Paige had been left to sit with the girls they shared their table with. There were four of them, and they were nice, something Paige had never cared to notice, too busy with Azzi to pay attention to the girls sitting two feet away from them.

They were nice in all the cliche ways, but what made their kindness stand out was the fact they had not mentioned Azzi once, and had simply invited Paige into their conversations. It was good for her to talk to other people, to get out of her head. 

She was aware that she hadn’t been looking or acting her best since the previous Tuesday, but no one had said anything or shown a reaction to her disheveled appearance. It was only on that Tuesday, when Paige had stomped her way to the table that the girls had acknowledged her delicate state.

“Hey Paige!” Shania greeted, her friendly smile quickly growing concerned as she and the rest of the group took in her severely agitated condition, “Are you alright?”

“Wha- Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Nothing to worry about here!” The table continued to stare at her worriedly, perhaps more so after her seemingly, self-assuring response.

“Oookay, cool.” Shania responded, voice filled with nothing but good-willed apprehension.

The table fell into silence, the girls trying to figure out how to deal with Paige’s nuclear state, and Paige trying to act as normal as she could after seeing her best friend of seven years holding hands with a grubby boy.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot to tell you about this Paige! There’s a party this Friday at Ryan’s, and you should totally come along!” Emma squealed at her excitedly.

“Yeah, sure, I’d like that.” Paige responded, trying her hardest to sound happy despite herself.

“Yay! I’ll text you the deets,” Emma said, passing Paige her phone, encased in pink diamontes, “Put your number in.”

Paige dutifully poked in her phone number before handing it back. The girls fell into conversation about the party, talking about drinks and other people that were going. Paige was content with letting it go in one ear and out the other, until she heard the name ‘Aaron B’ sandwiched in between the names of the other partygoers.

Aaron going to the party meant Azzi going to the party, that meant they were both going to the party that Paige was going to. Great. Just great. She would get front row seats to their love-fest, how exciting.

For some reason that knowledge didn’t make her cancel, instead it fueled her with reasons to go. She wanted to be there, and wanted to be the one to surprise Azzi with her presence. She wanted her to feel that same stomach dropping feeling she had felt all week, she wanted to be the one with the upper hand. Another, softer part of her, wanted her first, boy-girl, alcohol party to be the same as Azzi’s, even if they weren’t experiencing it together, together.

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2nd of MARCH, 2015

OAKRIDGE VIRGINIA

The school day had dragged on for so long Paige had accepted the fact that it would never end, meaning she nearly cried tears of joy when the end-of-school bell had rung out through the halls.

Ever since Tuesday she had been buzzing with both nerves and excitement. She was convinced that going to her first proper party would cause some cosmic shift within her universe, like the clouds would part and the angels would sing to her the second her hands touched the glass of a lukewarm berry cruiser.

With much more enthusiasm than necessary she had swiped her book into her backpack and power-walked out of school. That had become a prime part of the ‘avoiding Azzi’ plan, leaving way too early for school in the morning, and booking out of school the second it ended to make sure their paths didn’t cross.

As she walked into their street, a pang of guilt struck through her chest at the sight of the Fudd house. It had been killing her, not just the radio silence between her and Azzi, but the subsequent disconnect that had happened between her and the rest of Azzi’s family. 

It was odd, she hadn’t felt the shoulder punches from Jon and Jose in over a week. Hadn’t been yelled at motherly by Katie in over a week. Hadn’t been pulled into a daughter and extra-daughter hug by Tim in over a week. They were things that were a part of her daily life that she had always taken for granted, assuming they’d always be there. 

That wasn’t the only thing she had missed, mostly she had been missing Azzi. Paige missed her so much, she just missed everything about her. And she had officially decided that she would try to make up with Azzi, preferably as soon as possible. Her best case scenario had her hoping for a reconciliation at the party that night. All she had to do was pull her away from Aaron and she was golden, she was one hundred percent sure that Azzi would forgive her once she apologised, because she really was sorry.

The more and more she thought about the whole situation the more she realised how absolutely crazy she had been acting, from quite literally the moment Azzi told her. It was like a switch had flipped in her brain, and all rational thinking had been thrown out the window.

As she showered and got dressed for the party Paige was growing increasingly excited at the prospect of speaking to Azzi again after what felt like a lifetime of separation.

She got her dad to drop her off at seven-thirty at Ryan’s house. Her dad had given her a stern talking to about drugs and alcohol, and the dangers of them. 

Unfortunately, Bob would have been severely disappointed to find out that Paige had accepted a cruiser immediately upon arrival. As excited as she was to talk to Azzi, she was also desperately nervous about going to her first party, and having to enter by herself. Although the cruiser didn’t reveal cosmic secrets to her, it did send the lightest buzz through her, and inspire her to go to the kitchen and concoct a wickedly bitter vodka-juice blend in a plastic red cup.

After a while of floating around, Paige spotted Shania and her friends in the corner, and quickly made her way towards them. As she does she scans the room for Azzi and/or Aaron. That still made her upset, that they were now always together, like Paige and Azzi usually were, but whatever, Paige was there to make up with Azzi, not trash on her stupid boyfriend.

She walked up to the girls and fell into the simple chatter that they constantly had going. It was nice, they were nice, the way the alcohol made her feel was nice. She was content, simply standing there huddled in a circle with them as they discussed something Paige really didn’t care about. It appeared they were going to stay like that, until someone yelled ‘Spin the bottle time!’.

Suddenly, everyone, including Paige, was shoved into the basement, a large, misshapen circle of people sat in the centre of the room. Scanning the room once again, Paige finally saw her.

Azzi was sitting in the circle, pressed up against Aaron on one side and some random cheerleader on the other. She was wearing a pink sweater and her nicest pair of jeans, her hair was out and her lips were glossed a soft mauve. To put it simply, she looked really pretty.

Paige was leaning against a wall, her third drink and second cruiser of the night held firmly in her hand. She had opted out of the game, not wanting to have to swap spit with some stupid boy in her grade if the bottle were to land on her.

It suddenly hit her that she was sitting out of the game because she didn’t want to kiss someone, and that Azzi was sitting in on the game because she did want to kiss someone. And that someone would obviously be her boyfriend.

The thought of Azzi kissing him made her shudder, but she pushed it to the side. Azzi was her best friend and it should not have mattered to Paige who she kissed, so she decided not to care.

For the amount of hype the game had received, it was actually quite boring. Someone would spin the bottle, the bottle would land on someone, they would kiss, then the process would repeat. It wasn’t until Kathy Libertman spun the bottle and it landed on Johnny Albertson that there were some oohs and aahs. The fact that Kathy had the world’s most massive crush on Johnny was as widely accepted as the fact that two plus two equals four.

As Paige chuckled at the spin she glanced towards Azzi, who looked up at her at that exact moment. Instead of looking away like she would have a few days ago she held her gaze, blue eyes on brown for the first time in too long, and smiled just a little. A look of confusion mixed with shock passed over Azzi’s face before the corner’s of her mouth flicked up.

God that felt good. The cruisers hadn’t changed her life, but seeing her best friend smile at her like that again made Paige think that maybe the universe was on her side.

After Johnny had adeptly swerved Kathy, a few more rounds passed. Then, it was Aaron’s turn. Azzi was trying to play it cool, but Paige knew every single one of her nervous tells, the clench of her jaw and the furrow of her brows softening for a second as Paige gave her an encouraging nod.

Aaron reached into the circle and spun the empty coke bottle. It spun and spun and spun before coming to a perfect stop between Azzi and the cheerleader next to her.

The chatter of the room dissipated immediately as everyone watched in anticipation. Azzi was visibly distressed, and even Paige was nervous as to where the situation was headed.

Aaron hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between his girlfriend, the strawberry-blonde girl next to her, and the coke bottle. With a big intake of air, he leant forward over Azzi and kissed the cheerleader. The room erupted in a mix of confusion and support.

Everyone in the room was watching as Aaron and the cheerleader kissed for what seemed like forever, but Paige had her eyes trained on Azzi, who looked like a deer in the headlights stuck between them. Pushing through the room, Paige reached a hand out to Azzi who gladly took it and let herself be pulled out of the room and onto the street.

They stood in companionable silence, there were things they needed to say, but not yet.

It was nearing eleven o’clock when Paige called her dad to pick them up. The night air was chilly but when Paige’s hand brushed against Azzi, her whole body heated up from her best friend’s warmth.

Paige didn’t know if Azzi had been drinking or not, but she knew when they got into her dad’s car that he would know that Paige had in fact been drinking, and hadn’t heeded her dad’s warning. She expected a lecture on the danger of drinking but instead was met with absolutely zero conversation directed towards her, instead, her dad was talking to Azzi, catching up with her about the past week and a half of their lives. It hadn’t occurred to her till then that Azzi was just as much a part of her family as Paige was a part of hers - she had missed Azzi in her life so much.

The two girls went straight to Paige’s room and Bob to his. Only when they were tucked safely into the gentle warmth of the bedroom did Paige speak, “Listen, I’m really sorry Az. I don’t know why I was being so crazy, he just made me so upset, like I knew you were way out of his league and I just knew that you deserved way, way better than him.”

After her rant Paige sort of expected Azzi to get mad at her and let out her anger at the whole situation, yet Azzi simply smiled, “Yeah you were being pretty crazy, but I’m sorry too”

Paige scoffed at that, earning a confused chuckle from Azzi, “What are you sorry for? You literally did nothing wrong.”

“Well I should’ve told you ages ago, we had been texting every night for two whole weeks before he asked me out, and I don’t really know why I didn’t tell you… It’s just  that I was really worried you were gonna react… exactly like you reacted, y’know?” The curly-haired girl explained.

“Yeah, I get that, I did have like the worst reaction a person could have,” Paige confessed softly  “I mean, I’m just so sorry Az, I wish I never got angry, I’ve missed you so much.” 

Azzi pulled the blonde in for a hug, her head nestled in the crook of Azzi’s neck, the familiar, sweet aroma of her perfume filling her senses.

With a squeeze Azzi pulled away, before she flopped face-first onto Paige’s bed, “God that was so embarrassing.”

It was quite the situation, but it was definitely way more embarrassing for Aaron, like, fumbling the single-most pretty and smart and kind and funny girl in the whole school. She decided against saying that, and instead tried to lighten the situation, “Could’ve been worse, you saw what happened to Kathy.”

“Yeah, but Johnny’s not her boyfriend.” Azzi mumbled from her spot splayed out on Paige’s bed.

“That’s true I guess.” Paige responded thoughtfully, accepting defeat.

“Great. thanks Paigey.” She grumbled light-heartedly.

Right before Paige went to apologise Azzi sprang up into a sitting position on the bed, “It just sucks y’know?”

“Yeah I know.” Paige hummed in agreement. Their shoulders were pressed together again, and Paige could feel the touch and the alcohol mixing and making her brain short circuit a little 

“Like I really thought I was gonna have my first kiss tonight” Azzi huffed in upset annoyance.

“Well look on the bright side, he’s a mega dick, so really you dodged a bullet.” Paige reassured her. 

As much as she was glad that Azzi had found out what a douche he was, she wished even more that it had happened quietly, not in front of a big crowd of people.

“You’re actually quite right.” Azzi agreed after considering her statement for a moment.

Paige playfully shoved her with her shoulder, “Of course I am.”

Azzi went quiet for a second before she turned to look Paige in the eyes, “Yeah. I want my first kiss to mean something. To be with someone that really cares about me and stuff.”

The words came from her mouth before she could think about what she was saying, “I mean you still could.” 

Paige didn’t know what it was that made her say that. Maybe it was the liquid courage from before. Or maybe it was the adrenaline from making up with her best friend. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the way the streetlight glow filtering in through the windows was hitting Azzi’s cheekbones just right, how her lashes were long and her lips full. How Paige wasn’t sure she had ever truly appreciated Azzi’s beauty before the way it was meant to be.

“What do you mean?” Azzi asked. It seemed like a question, but with the way Azzi was batting her eyelashes at her, it started to seem more like a challenge.

Paige’s brain actually did short circuit for a split second that time, but then, mostly thanks to the liquor, she decided to just double down and speak with confidence.

“I think you know what I mean” She responded, her blue eyes flickering from Azzi’s doe-y brown ones to her soft lips.

Almost imperceptibly, Azzi shifted closer. 

“Yeah.” She breathed out shakily, breaking eye contact to not so subtly look at Paige’s mouth.

“So can I?” Paige asked, moving her hand to rest on Azzi’s shoulder; confidence suddenly oozing out of her every pore.

“Yes.” Azzi responded quickly, her eyes trained only on her best friend’s mouth, before starting again, as if trying to regain some dignity, “Yeah. Yes please.”

Paige gave a soft smile before moving her hand up to cup Azzi’s jaw, the other settling feather-light on her waist. She watched as Azzi’s breath hitches, and her eyes flickered close. Paige followed suit, leaning in slowly. Azzi’s hands were hovering over both of her shoulders, as if unsure of what to do. Paige doesn’t mind though, if it weren’t for the alcohol that was running amok through her system they probably wouldn’t have even been in that situation in the first place.

After an eternity of leaning in, their lips touched in a soft peck. Only for a second, before they pulled away. Azzi tasted sweet, like canned lemonade and strawberry scented lip gloss. Her skin was warm under Paige’s hands.

Maybe it had been minutes or days or years since their kiss, neither were sure. All Paige knew was that she wanted to kiss Azzi again, and so she did. That time she let herself linger, let herself apply a little bit of pressure, and in return Azzi pressed in a little harder too. When Azzi made a little sound of contentment Paige thought she might explode. She wanted to keep going, but something told her to stop, to let it be good just as it was.

When she pulled away and opened her eyes, Azzi still had hers closed. And for a split second, Paige swore she caught a smile on her face, a kind of smile she had never given to Paige before.

Now that was it. That was the cosmic feeling Paige had been waiting for. Scratch the cruisers, scratch everything else, that was the feeling. The kind that people chase their whole lives, and Paige had just experienced it on a random Friday night in the quiet of her room.

Friendship really was magical. 

Azzi was her best friend, of course it would be her, they were the closest of all platonic soulmates.

A few seconds later, Azzi opened her eyes, and smiled at her. Her hands were still on Paige’s shoulders and she decided that she wouldn’t mind holding onto each other like that forever.

Kicking off their shoes they surrendered to wearing their outside clothes to sleep. Paige had a double bed, which was the absolute perfect size for two people in Azzi’s opinion.

They tangled together in a mess of warm limbs under the blanket. Azzi had her head on Paige’s chest, listening to the rhythmic thumping of her heartbeat.

“Thanks Paigey. I’m glad you were my first kiss” She whispered against her jumpered chest.

“I’m glad you were mine too Az, that’s what best friends are for, right?” Paige smiled good-naturedly, her chin coming to rest against Azzi’s head.

Azzi let out a little choked sound before she responded, “Yeah, best friends, totally.”

Paige ignored the weird way she was talking - it had been a long night - and pulled Azzi into her just a little tighter, prepared to let sleep take over.

Just when she thought she was about to fall asleep she heard Azzi’s whisper again, “Paige, you were right.”

“Yeah I usually am.” Paige smirked sleepily.

“So full of yourself, god.” Azzi said as she used her arm draped around Paige’s waist to poke her in the side.

Wincing slightly Paige gloated, “That’s like the second time you’ve said something like that to me tonight.”

“Yeah whatever you goof.” Azzi conceded, seemingly forgetting about whatever it was she had to say.

Paige wanted to sleep, but she wanted to know what it was that Azzi was going to tell her, “Wait, so what specifically was I right about?” she asked as she gave Azzi’s shoulder a soft squeeze.

“Oh right” Azzi spoke softly, “It was Aaron B.”

Azzi always got a little out of it when she was tired, but she always remembered to finish her sentences, “It was Aaron B, what?”

Paige thought she had fallen back asleep after Azzi had gone silent for so long, but after taking a quick inhale of breath Azzi answered quietly, “It was Aaron B that peed his pants on sixth grade camp.”

If it weren’t for the fact Paige was so determined to know what Azzi had said she would have missed the softly spoken words, but she didn’t and she was so glad she heard them.

Paige burst out laughing and Azzi followed along.

“You’re kidding me!” Paige wheezed between gasps.

But Azzi was too busy laughing so hard she could barely breathe, clutching onto Paige’s arm as her mouth opened wide in silent laughter.

That was how they fell asleep, tucked into one another as their heaving laughter gave way to shallow, sleeping breath.

-----------------------------------------------

Feel free to send me asks or opinions and stuff in my inbox or DMs, responding to them is my favourite it's so much fun. As always, thanks for reading :)

[churipu]

JJK MEN & THEIR SLEEPYHEAD GF !

featuring. toji fushiguro, yuuta okkotsu, choso x fem! reader

warnings. absolutely nothing

note. anon, first of all, again, i'm so sorry i accidentally put your post up in the queue list when it was unfinished and the pen symbol wasn't there so i screenshotted this before deleting the og post. i hope this post comes to find you by itself :(( second of all, thank you for liking the first part, means a lot to me <33 last of all, hope you enjoy this one!

TOJI FUSHIGURO. i feel like he's the kind of person who doesn't mind having a sleepyhead gf, in fact he'll gladly sleep with her no matter what time or place. he'll just look and then you're asleep, all of a sudden he's asleep too.

people find it odd how you and him are able to just doze off anywhere, especially toji being a pretty "busy" man. would ditch his work sometimes just to have a nap with you, and i feel like he's the type of guy who would use you like a bolster when you both sleep. so you just lie there, arms by your side — while he on the other hand, is all up on you, holding you close to him.

sometimes toji would chuckle upon seeing you asleep at the most random time and places, in a diner, in a fast food restaurant, in the park standing up (and you woke up because apparently a kid bumped into your leg), just anywhere. he finds your sleepy habit quite interesting really.

"toji... 'm tired."

"when're you not, hm?"

he absolutely loves it when you just clung onto him like a koala for a nap, makes him feel proud (oh and i feel like he's the type of person who would take pictures if you sleep with your mouth open with a string of drool coming out of your mouth, he says that it's adorable. you don't think so though).

YUUTA OKKOTSU. yuuta is just so adorable. i feel like he gushes out a lot when you fall asleep on him, like he will silently fawn over you but at the same time he doesn't know what to do. should he let you be? wake you up so you could sleep in a more comfortable place? or carry you to the said comfortable place?

he just ends up waking you up because of how fidgety he is, "yuuta?"

"i'm so sorry, did i wake you up? sorry.."

honestly, you don't even care about the whole wake up thing. you just wanted to sleep so you always end up latching onto his side like a baby, "five more minutes."

it's never five minutes, longest is twelve hours. although yuuta doesn't mind — he even joins you for a bit, and if he has to go, he will make sure you're tucked in well and comfortable with a pillow fort he built just for you incase something (the monsters comes for you) happens.

CHOSO. i feel like he gets confused at first to why you're always falling asleep near him, he even asked this "Google" to that — and Google did not in fact help, but instead drove him into a state of panic because it told choso that you were dying. so when you fall asleep the next time, choso wakes you up almost immediately.

"don't die on me."

you didn't know what he was talking about and assumed that he was just messing around so you closed your eyes, and he had a full blown breakdown because he thought you were actually dying.

but when you told him it's because you feel safe to sleep near him, he's never been so much happier. and whenever you fall asleep, he always has a blanket ready for you both. so here's how it goes, you fall asleep and lean your head on his shoulder, he drapes the blanket over the both of you, he leans his head onto your head and falls asleep.

you both always end up in such an uncomfortable position after (either with your hand or foot in his face, or vice versa), but you guys never cared, at least the sleep was good.

"cho, get your foot out of my face before i bite them off clean."

"'m sorry, it just happens."

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[bomber-grl]

Peter Parker Dating hc 🕸️

Pairing(s):Peter Parker (Tom hollands)x Gn!Reader (both civilian and superhero included)

As a civilian you were probably unaware of his secret identity for a good awhile

Until you inevitably found out and began dating

How you found out well, well let’s just say it wasn’t ideal

You had been friends for awhile and the only way Peter would ever let you near him or his room (while having a crush on you) would be if he forgot something at your house or something

So you knocked and May let you know he wasn’t there but still let you in

I mean she wasn’t just gonna let you stand outside waiting for him, if anything he was to blame for not being responsible about the time you two established for meeting up

Queue you walking into his room and he’s half suited up and the both of you are just staring at eachother

That interaction led to some discourse, obviously

But after the initial shock you (surprisingly) moved on

Now if you’re a superhero working for stark for some reason then you met that way and there’s no secret identity reveal

Tbh the two of you have to have something in common

Whether its interests in comics or “nerd” stuff

something had to have led to the two of you getting together

Or maybe you’re just into easily flustered, needy men, who knows 🤷‍♀️

Like if you’re a hero then you met that way and share that in common (including tech if you’re into that)

So just imagine Peter, whose very nervous/ excited, just absolutely rambling about some interest that was briefly mentioned and that you both shared

The thing is, you’re on a date right now and he’s absolutely embarrassing himself (in his opinion)

He’d try to plan everything to perfection and gift you what he can even if he feels it might pale to what you’re used to (if you’re wealthy)

Your first date was especially memorable since not only did he display his nervousness so obviously but it was as if the universe couldn’t let his plan run smoothly

He had tripped, stuttered, made too many mistakes to count, just a piece of work all in all

To you though? It was endearing

He had wanted your first date to be the upmost perfection, even if it wasn’t an average persons “ideal” by the end-

It didn’t matter because you could tell the genuine affection he had for you so much so that he had planned this all, and unfortunately (for him) embarrassed himself beyond return in front of you

“Kill me now”

- Peter probably

He doesn’t really seem like it, if anything he seems pretty self actualized but there’s obviously moments where he feels a bit sorry (?) for the lack of a better word

He’s just always clumsy, and getting flustered easily

Especially around you

So although he might think that you probably think less than ideally of him, he couldn’t be more wrong

If anything it adds to his charm and anything he does is pretty endearing

So when you decide to share such words with Peter while you’re chilling in his room

Well, he’s floored

He thanks you but then that spirals into him stuttering and tripping over himself

Despite the fact that you complimented him to not only ease his worries but also to just let him know-

He’s groveling (exaggeration) and apologizing for, again, being himself…

Blud needs to chill out…

Usually after missions or whatever they’re called- Peter usually has minor injuries or cuts

How do you know this? You’re his main source of comfort so he’s sneak in through your window into your room as often as he can

A particular moment was when you both decided to have a sleep over at your house

It was definitely a huge progress in your relationship but you should’ve known better

While you were asleep, he snuck off and att the end of his little escapade, he snuck back in

Only thing is that he returned back through the window he snuck out from just to be met with the lights on

He visibly sunk at your disappointed gaze once he noticed you up

He isn’t in the best state so you take it easy on him and just go rummaging through your cabinets- you hoped to have something for his wounds around there somewhere

As you’re searching, Peter has taken it upon himself to convince you his injuries are nothing, just go back to bed, and is just overall downplaying his condition

You pause and just stare at him

Obviously he’s taken by surprise but he realizes he can’t do anything to stop you and just lets you continue

Even while your cleaning his wounds or bandaging him up he’s making jokes about the situation

Well maybe not jokes but we all know how rambly he gets when he’s nervous

Somehow digging himself a grave right there

On that same page

We’re all aware of how difficult it is for Peter to balance his civilian and superhero life

I’m not up for debate- it might as well be canon

He’s always having to leave school for superhero work in which it has consequences or he leaves superhero work and still has consequences in the franchise so respectfully: 🤫🤐)

Peter tries super hard to be there and include you in what’s going on but sometimes he needs to cancel or leave hang outs abruptly

You understand this obviously but it’s still upsetting, not as much if you’re a superhero id imagine

But yknow

Still annoying asf

You don’t give him hell for it even if you want to because either 1. You do the same thing (superhero) 2. He can’t help it and he already gets enough shit

He’s also super protective

Especially if you’re a civilian

It’s sort of endearing/ annoying- somehow both simultaneously

Now if you’re a hero/ avenger then you both understand things about your secret identities

Particularly about hiding them

Yknow how Ned would always help Peter out? Well you and Peter do that for eachother

If u have family or others who aren’t aware like friends- Peter has your back and vice versa

It’s just the price you need to pay

Especially since it’s not easy balancing lives

[gilverrwrites]

Dickies Mom has got it goin’ on

Had to get this convoluted, angsty but fun idea out of my head. One day I might expand it into a better-written, fleshed-out fic, but for now please enjoy my yappy ramblings.

Wally West/BatMom!Reader

CWs: Wally being a not so great friend.

So like, imagine you're roughly late 20s/early 30s and happily married to the love of your life Bruce Wayne, there's an age gap sure, but ultimately that's not important. What matters is that you've made a life with him and his children. You're especially close with Dick, his eldest (late teens/early 20s) as you've known him since he was a teenybopper.

All is well, until one day in true comic book fashion; you die. You sacrifice yourself for a greater cause. It's all very tragic.

A decade later, it turns out fate isn't done with you. You've no idea how or why, but you wake in a coffin one day and have to claw yourself out of it. Cold, alone, and afraid, you make your way back to Wayne Manor. There you're greeted by your husband Bruce, but not really. This Bruce is greying. There are fine lines on his face you've never seen before and a ring on his finger that does not match yours.

You're not mad, it's been 10 years, and he was supposed to move on! But it doesn't feel like 10 years to you, it feels like only yesterday everything was perfect. It's devastating.

Queue Dick finding out. He just so happened to be hanging with his best pal Wally at the time, they both drop everything to rush over in a flash.

Your first night back on earth is messy. It's emotional, and stressful, a hell of a roller coaster. Ultimately, you spend most of it with Dick and Jay who surprise is also back from the dead. Dick is really your emotional soundboard, while Jay offers more practical advice about navigating a world that has gone on without you. He recommends you just take some time off, heal your wounds, catch-up with friends and family. You should learn from his mistakes.

Wally helps too. Primarily in a comedian relief way but also just as a sunny friendly face. His freckles and kind green eyes go a long way in making you feel at ease amongst a sea of familiar strangers.

He's adamant you've met before but you insist you'd never forget eyes that green and it stops his heart. You mean nothing by it, but it means a lot to him.

After you’ve parted ways, Dick makes a point of telling Wally not to flirt with you if he ever meets you again.

“Flirting? I wasn't flirting.”

“I was there.”

“But, come on man she's hot!”

“She’s my mom.”

“But she's our age now.”

“Wally, she's my mom!”

Eventually, after a lot of teasing, Wally surrenders but he deliberately makes no promises. He can't, not when he's been replaying the same 5-second interaction you'd had at Dicks 18th Birthday party many moons ago in his head over and over. He’ll try for his best friend, but it seems to him like this was meant to be.

Bruce may not be in love with you anymore, but he still loves you. So he helps how he can, offers you food and shelter, medical attention, a job, whatever you need to get yourself back on your feet.

You decide to take Jasons advice. Bruce still has a lot of your things; your clothes and your car. You ‘borrow’ gas money from your widowed husband and hit the road to seek out lost friends and family. Sad, but eager to get away from the city that no longer feels like home. You leave your rings with Alfred, a sign to Bruce that you expect nothing from him, that you'll leave him and his new wife be even though it breaks your heart.

The first stop is Dick, obviously, since you have to travel through Blüd. After joining him for a routine patrol, you spend the night on his couch, eating Thai food and talking about his life since you… passed. Nightwing as just finding his footing back then, but now he's a force to rival Batman.

You're two states over when you get a call from a number you don't recognise. Most of the people you know have changed their numbers since you last spoke, so don't hesitate to answer. You're surprised however by whose on the other end.

“Wally West? How did you get this number?”

“From Dick.”

He's not lying, he's just omitting the fact that Dick doesn't know Wally got your number from his phone bill. If he didn't want that info getting out he should probably put his bills somewhere other than a lockbox in a safe and quit being only person in the entire world to still actively use a landline.

His not-a-lie works however, the implication of Dick's approval helps you to let down those mother-appropriate conversation walls.

“Heard you're travelling cross country, any chance you plan on stopping in Keystone?”

“Why? Whats in Keystone?”

“Um, the Patriots?”

“Baseball?”

“And hotdogs! Al who serves em does not skimp on all the toppings, you've gotta try em.”

“You want me to detour in Keystone for baseball and hotdogs?”

“Well, there is something else.”

“And whats that?”

“Guess.”

“Unmmm… You?”

“Ding ding ding. She's smart and beautiful, a woman after my own heart.”

He's cute. So cute. He's no Bruce, but Bruce never made you laugh like this.

“Wally, this is a bad ideas. I was married until like a week ago.”

“And? I'm not askin’ you to walk down the aisle again, just one game and like 20 hotdogs. For me. You don't have to eat that many unless you want too.”

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Hii i love love love your desi reader fics!! It would be really nice if you could write an Oscar Piastri x desi!reader fic maybe reader is a fan of Oscar and meets him accidentally? and they kinda hit up immediately? like a strangers to lovers fic <333

crashing and clicks ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ op x desi!reader ¸.♡.¸

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ fluff ¸.♡.¸

masterlist ☾☼

travelling to an expensive country like monaco, and watching the monaco grand prix had always been a dream of yours. your sole motivator for years of working had been to earn enough money to spend a proper one week vacation in monaco, including paddock passes for your favourite team, mclaren, and a chance to meet your favourite driver, oscar piastri.

you had a camera around your neck and you clicked pictures as you walked through the streets. people, cars, building, the sheer luxury that screamed from every atom in the city. you were trying to build a portfolio. something good enough that you could quit your 9-5 job and pursue photography full time. you had an instagram account already. you shared your pictures, and you got likes and comments. you had a decent following, though, nowhere near how you much you would need to be a good, reliable photographer.

of course, your parents had questioned that multiple times, with the usual questioning of "what will people say?" "how will you live on such an income?" "just find a rich man to marry first, then do all of this."

you had indulged in their line of questioning the first two times, and then gave up. nothing would stop them from convincing you a steady income was better and photography was a hobby, not a career. you understood that it came from a place of concern, but it still hurt a little bit.

your body clock reminded you that it was time for some chai. apparently, no matter what timezone you were in, at 5 o'clock, your body instantly craved tea. quickly looking for a nearby cafe, you walked in, making sure to protect your camera.

standing in queue, you quickly put your camera inside your bag carefully, and pulled out the amount you would need as you surveyed the menu. a chai tea and an almond biscuit would do.

quickly ordering and briefly chatting with the woman at the counter, you waited at the side for your name to be called. you knew they were going to butcher up your name, so it was easier to just stand close and wait for your order on your own.

when they called out your name, ruining it, of course, you quickly took your hot tea and the plate with the almond biscuit, and turned, looking for a place to sit. finding a corner table near the window, you started making your way over. the cup was filled to the brim, and you were trying to make sure that it wouldn't spill.

just as she reached her table and was about to set her cup down, someone crashed into her from behind, muttering quick sorries as her drink spilled all over the table, and her hands nearly soaked in the hot beverage.

"oh my god, im so sorry. um, are you hurt?" you were ready to fight whoever made you drop your tea. but you knew that voice. you heard it in videos over and over again.

slowly turning around, you came face to face with oscar piastri. the oscar piastri.

if you'd met him in any other circumstance, you would probably have been more excited. for now, your spilled tea was a much bigger concern.

your eyes fell on the spilled cup, and you said in a small, dejected voice, "my chai,"

oscar followed your gaze, instantly realising what you were talking about and why you seemed so sad. "oh my god, i'm so sorry! my friend and i were playing around, and we didn't mean to spill your drink,"

"yeah, really sorry about that," a voice, lando norris' voice said from behind oscar, looking apologetic and mildly amused.

"don't worry, though, oscar's going to buy you another drink." lando stated, clapping a hand on oscar's back.

oscar turned to lando, confused, "i am?" and then immediately turned to you, "i mean, yes! i am! i'll buy you another drink!"

you sighed, "no, it's not necessary,"

"no, no, i insist. i spilled your drink, i should get you a new one," oscar insisted.

you wanted to say no, that it didn't matter. but oscar piastri was offering you a drink. that felt like a once in a lifetime opportunity.

you agreed.

oscar immediately smiled, and you smiled back. you didn't know why, you just wanted to after seeing his soft smile.

"great! well, i've got to run, so enjoy your little date!" lando said, before rushing off.

you had forgotten that lando had been standing there too. his insinuation that this was a date made you blush. this wasn't a date. right? he was oscar piastri. you were you.

regular people don't go out with rich people on dates.

oscar gestured for you towards the counter, and with a shy smile, you did. he followed closely behind, a little air of awkwardness between the two of you.

"what were you drinking?" he asked while the two of you waited in line.

"oh, i had ordered tea. never got to drink it, though," you teased.

oscar smiled softly, "i am sorry about that,"

you nudged him slightly, "it's okay, i was just teasing,"

"so, a chai tea?"

you stared at him incredulously, "how dare you?"

oscar's face filled with panic, "what? what did i do?"

"it's not chai tea! it's either chai or tea!"

"but it's called chai tea!"

"no, oscar! chai means tea! tea in hindi is called chai. so, chai tea is essentially-"

"tea tea,"

"exactly!" the two of you had moved up the line, your hands flying as you spoke animatedly.

once at the counter, you ordered your drink, oscar sneakily paying for it after you insisted on doing so, and this time, oscar held your drink as the two of you walked back to the same table where you had originally spilled your drink.

the two of you sat together. the two of you talked. about anything and everything. it didn't really matter. you had plans for the day. you were sure that oscar had plans for the day. but, well until after sunset, the two of you sat at the table, ordering drinks after drinks, and just kept on talking.

you told him about your country, and your life growing up, and what you were doing in monaco. he told you about his country, and his life growing up, and the differences in the media about his job.

you told him about your career, and your passion, and your freedom. he told you about his career, his team, and his independence.

you told him about your pet, and your favourite moments with your best friends, and your beautiful, beautiful mother.

he told you about his trips around the world, and his favourite moments of having lando as a teammate, and his beautiful, beautiful mother.

there were so many things to talk about. there wasn't enough time. technically, you were going to see him the next three days because you've got the paddock passes. but, you won't be able to spend time with him. and it made you a little sad to think about.

oscar walked you back to your hotel. the walk was a little long. but you didn't mind. you got to spend time with him. that's what you wanted, and that's what you got.

somewhere, sometime along the way, your hand ended up tucked in the inside of his elbow. somewhere, sometime along the way, he leaned in closer to you. somewhere, sometime along the way, you realised that oscar piastri was everything you had been looking for.

you weren't sure if it would work. for one, it would have to be a long distance relationship, with minimal visits from your end because money was always a little tight. for another, oscar had an ever-moving job. there wasn't any stability, at least not that you could see.

what were the chances that it would work?

before he left, he asked for your phone number. of course, he did. you gave it to him happily, albeit a little shyly. you were going to see him the next day. he knew that too. he made you promise to text him once you had reached the paddock, because he wanted to see you.

oscar piastri wanted to see you.

you agreed.

that night, you went to bed with a smile on your face.

the next morning, you checked your phone as soon as you woke up, not sure what you were expecting. but whatever you were expecting had come true, because there was oscar's message right there on the top, telling you about how excited he was to see you.

you danced your way through your routine, you sang your way to the paddock. you had a smile on your face that you couldn't erase, and you just had a good feeling about this.

as soon as you reached the paddock, you texted oscar. though, before you could find him, lando found you first.

"hey, you're the girl from yesterday!" he exclaimed, pointing at you slightly.

you laughed, "yeah, that's me,"

"what are you doing here?"

"i have the paddock passes for the three days, and oscar told me to text him once i reached,"

lando smirked, "oh, he did, did he?"

your cheeks heated up.

"y'all are cute already. come on, i'll take you to him," lando said, and began walking.

you followed him.

you were nervous suddenly. how were you going to greet oscar? what if he didn't want to see you inside wherever lando was taking you? what if he just wanted to have a quick chat with you and move on?

to distract yourself, you took pictures. people, drivers, the paddocks, everyone and everything.

lando noticed your camera, and made you promise to show some later.

finally, you reached oscar. he was in the team kit. his eyes lit up when he saw you and your heart did a little something funny.

"y/n! hi!" he said, as he rushed towards you, stopping right in front of you.

lando giggled, slapping oscar on his back as he walked away.

"hi,"

"you made it!"

"i mean, i did have the paddock passes," you teased.

his cheeks became pink, just slightly, as he rubbed the back of his neck, "that's true, yes,"

"i'm happy to see you, though," you said, taking a brave step forward.

he smiled radiantly, "so am i,"

and then, he led you around the paddock, introducing you to people as if he hadn't just met you yesterday. he showed you all kinds of places, told you all kinds of things. you clicked pictures as much as you could, wanting to add them in your digital diary.

and that's how your three days went by.

oscar showed you every place possible, you captured everything you found beautiful.

now, if most of the phots ended up being oscar's, that's not your fault. he didn't have to be beautiful.

you captured the cars on track, and you captured the fans. you captured the team reactions, and you captured the machinery.

you captured pictures of lando laughing with his team, and you captured pictures of oscar discussing with his race engineer.

just after qualifying was when everything changed.

lando had pole position, with oscar starting p2. it was a papaya front row. both drivers were excited to win for the team. after the interviews were done, oscar had told you that he would change, and then he'd drop you back to your hotel. while you waited in the paddock for him, lando approached you.

"show me the pictures you took," he said.

"you demand a lot,"

he rolled his eyes, smiling, "alright, show me the pictures you took, please,"

you giggled, "that's more like it," and you handed him your camera.

you were suddenly nervous about him looking at the pictures you took. they weren't amazing, but they weren't bad either.

lando went through the pictures, focused, and your anxiety grew.

just then, oscar approached.

"hey guys, what's going on?" he asked.

"osc, you didn't tell me how talented she is,"

"what do you mean?"

you chewed on your lip.

"i mean that these pictures are fucking good. i bet if we show them to zak or andrea or whoever, they'd hire her,"

"lando, come on-" you started.

"i'm serious, y/n. come here, oscar, look at these,"

oscar shifted towards lando, leaning over his shoulder to see.

"guys, i haven't edited them yet, and like, a lot of them are trash-"

"fuck, these are really good," oscar didn't say 'fuck' a lot, and for him to be saying it in the moment seemed like a big deal.

"y/n, what if you edit these pictures tonight, and get them tomorrow to show to the media head?" oscar asked.

you hesitated.

"look, you wanted to pursue your passion, but you were worried about the money, right? this kind of solves all of your problems," he stated.

"what other problems? long distance kinds?" lando teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

"shut up!" oscar said, though his ears were tinged red.

"okay. i can do that. it's worth a shot," you said, staring at your camera, before you looked at oscar, who was already staring at you, "right?"

"right." he nodded.

you took the camera back, and you walked with oscar to his car. the two of you made idle conversation. your mind was buzzing with the million possibilities of what could happen tomorrow, not just with the race, but with your career.

you knew that lando and oscar weren't so cruel that they'd lie to you. but you also knew that you pictures weren't as good as they claimed it to be.

"hey, don't overthink it, okay? go with the designs and the pictures you think are the best," oscar softly encouraged you, as he parked in front of your hotel.

you nodded, taking a deep breath, before you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "thank you,"

and you climbed out of his car.

you were awake almost all night, designing and redesigning your pictures, choosing the best of the best from your trip. you were filled with anxiety, but you also felt alive. you were excited to see where this would lead to.

just before you went to bed, close to 5 am, oscar's name popped up on your phone.

"come an hour earlier, please" he'd said in the text. you had replied immediately, letting him know that you'd be there.

another message came from him, but you were already out cold by then.

you woke up buzzing, excited to see the reactions you would get for your photography. you tried not to get your hopes up too much. there was a big chance that all of it could end up meaning nothing. but, you were still grateful for the opportunity.

as per oscar's request, you arrived at the paddock an hour early, immediately walking to where you knew oscar would be. it was funny how you knew the paddock so well already because of oscar showing you around.

you found oscar quickly, and he didn't waste any time in grabbing your hand and pulling you into an office.

"where are we going?" you asked.

"the media head wants to see you,"

"damn, i don't get a hi hello then?"

oscar stopped suddenly, causing you to crash into him. he turned to look at you. the two were you were standing close, closer than ever before.

"hi, y/n," he said with a smile.

"hi, oscar," you replied, matching his grin.

"ready to go now?"

you nodded, "yes,"

and he began pulling you away again.

once he found the media head, he pushed you towards her.

taken slightly aback, you introduced yourself, and handed her your ipad with the pictures on it.

the media head was nice when she spoke to you, but once she started looking at the pictures, you began to worry again.

you turned and looked at oscar, who gave you a little thumbs up of encouragement.

she nodded, handing the ipad back to you, and you quickly took it from her.

"they're good. they could be better. you could start with an internship position here, and we go forward from there, if you're willing,"

"yes! thank you so much!" you exclaimed.

she discussed the logistics with you, about meeting with the legal team later and meeting zak and andrea, and everything. all you could think about in that moment was that maybe the thing between you and oscar could actually end up being something real.

safe to say, everything went smoothly after that.

as soon as she was out of your sight, you immediately turned around and threw yourself in oscar's arms, unable to stop yourself. oscar hugged you back eagerly, his arms wrapping around your waist tightly.

as you pulled back, you whispered, "thank you,"

oscar smiled, the two of you still wrapped in each other, "this way i get to keep you with me everywhere,"

you laughed and nodded, "who knew a stranger crashing into me could lead to all of this, huh?"

oscar blushed again, "i did apologise for that!"

"what if we go out again and i'll make you try proper tea?"

he smiled, his eyes flicking to your lips once, "i'd like that,"

years later, on your wedding day, you posted pictures of oscar in his sherwani clicked by you, with the caption "from crashing and clicks to forever dreams come true."

•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•

hi! thank you so much for reading! i'm still trying to figure out how to write oscar. i think i relate more with lando and max personality-wise, so it's easier for me to write rpf about them. anyways! this was my first oscar x reader! i hope you like it. this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :) i'd love your support! https://ko-fi.com/kavi2305

[the-s1lly-corner]

That xreader with Sprout where the reader constantly gets in danger? what if a timeline where Sprout became twisted trying to protect them, and still stays to protect em even after that

Twisted!Sprout still trying to protect the reader

i need to build the queue back up- think what ill do is write a bunch of alphabet posts to get that ball rolling while i wait for more requests- will give me more time to work on other things while ensuring you guys have something to eat hmmm hmmm mhmmm m i am a single mother to 2 thousand children and we are STRUGGLING!!!!!/lh notes: gn toon reader, short and... bittersweet?, written on computer, post game, you both get hurt in more ways than one, something something love the idea of some of the twisteds not realizing theyre hurting their toon friends and this definitely plays a role here cws: talk of injury

even in his twisted state he still has the instinct to protect the toons around him, and that includes you... but... whether because hes not fully aware of his strength or his mind is so broken that he doesnt realize his grip is too tight and his tendrils too ferocious.... encounters with him are incredibly dangerous

some of the other twisteds look like theyre trying to seek help or simple comfort but still end up with ichor that doesnt belong to them on their hands- and sprout is no exception

though... twisteds dont attack each other- sprout is just the first to outright rip you away from them. he doesnt mean to clutch you so tightly but even somewhere in the back of his ruined mind theres a strong desire to protect you at all costs. youre lucky to just walk away from that with a little soreness where he held you

he trails around you, when he doesnt scoop you into his hold. at least thats one less twisted for your team to have to worry about? as long as youre not running around or getting into danger he almost seems... passive. sure the stare hes burning into your back is insane but he doesnt look angry. in pain definitely, but theres no malice in them

actually, funny enough, on machines that were particularly... stuck in the valve... he gave a good yank to loosen them. nearly broke a few machines from how aggressively he does it but hey- help it help... ignoring the fact panic mode... well.. sends him to a panic

it doesnt matter how many times you see each other he never accepts when you need to leave- but hes too much of a liability to bring up to the upper floors where you and the surviving toons are hiding. if he were a non main it could be considered- but the mains... are more dangerous, more risky. and youre the only person who can pacify him right now- and putting all of that on you isnt fair, and if youre the only one... you cant be expected to constantly be there to keep him under control- its not realistic

overall not a good situation. it sucks for everyone involved

he still has some of the cupcakes he had on him before he.... you know... theyre drenched in ichor and stale- moldy probably- but that doesnt stop him from trying to shove them into your hands to take when youre visibly hurt

[chvrch-of-the-darkest-mind]

It's 8.51 am. I'm in the queue of other students waiting to be let into the main hall. It's cramped and busy this time around, and the building cacophony of humanity gathered in numbers has slowly turned to a white noise that barely matters. I let out a tired little sigh, and in doing so, I'm reminded by the gentle familiar aroma of something I forgot to get this morning. Coffee, I really should have picked one up this morning. Before I can lose myself in recalling the taste of my forgotten love, Sarah dances her tiny hips wiggling through the crowd, my ever positive, seemingly always happy roommate cuts in line with a small paper cup that brings me warm caramel scented joy. Sarah has that kind of smile that just melts away your worries, I often wonder how come she's always so happy. " I was just in the middle of my morning routine when I realised you might need this." Sarah's voice was soft and calm as she handed over the paper cup of sweet coffee. " Thank you , I would say you have no idea how much I need this, but then here you are, so I guess you did somehow" and now I'm smiling back at her almost shy and that's nuts because Sarah and I have known each other for months. Yet somehow I'm still embarrassed and shy around her at times.

The doors of the hall open up, and the clamour and chatter stops briefly, only to become a moving herd of humanity slowly wandering into the dark main hall. The hall has been altered and decorated for today's guest speaker. Today's guest is a former Field Marshal of the British army, and now Dr. Michael Aster 52 and Retired, he recently gained media attention for his views on how easily people are controlled by media. And that one short clip of him knife throwing with an accuracy that terrifies me personally.

Taking our seats next to each other, Sarah and I share one more smile as the presentation starts at 9.00am to the second. Immaculate time keeping aside, our speaker today obviously intended to set the tone.

" If you are not already seated, leave immediately because you are late." Dr. Aster's voice commanded with authority as it filled and echoed the hall , even without a microphone, he knew how to get peoples attention.

" IMMEDIATELY ," Dr. Aster said again, this time his tone seemed to tear out the unworthy as if treating a wound in a battlefield. Ripping them out like an unwanted piece of shrapnel.

Sarah seemed really excited about this presentation for some reason. She was wiggling excitedly like a child who knows they are about to get ice cream.

Once the late sitters vacated the hall, Dr. Aster began. " That was easy . Did you see how many of them just left ?" The hall was entirely silent. No one dared say a word. He had us captivated with a weight of authority and a fear that comes with a high state of focus.

And still, Sarah sits there smiling. She must know more about what's going to happen next. I stop worrying because she's so joyful. As odd as it seems, Sarah just knows how to calm me without words.

Dr. Aster continued

" These people who just left were easily manipulated with fear. They all believed they had committed an act of poor conduct by being late"

" But we're they late ? , no, they were on time."

" I told them they were late and they left because I told them to do so"

" None of them questioned it. None of them raised a hand or offered any form of interjection at all"

" Do any of you know why that all happened so easily and with total compliance? "

Dr. Aster's eyes seemed to sharply and quickly examine the students still in the hall. As his gaze pierced through us. In this moment, it felt as though my feet couldn't leave the floor.

Dr. Aster's voice now calmly moved onto what seemed to be his presentation.

" They all understand my authority and as such recognised me as a superior, personal agency was bypassed and they experienced an agentic shift. "

" If you look under your seats in just a moment when I instruct you to do so, you will find a paper bag"

Almost half of the students reached immediately, trying to sneak a glance at the bag and its contents. And the absolute fury that came next was unexpected and powerful.

" ALL OF YOU WHO JUST REACHED FOR THE BAG STAND UP AND REMOVE YOURSELVES FROM THIS HALL IMMEDIATELY WITHOUT SAYING A WORD" Dr aster's voice was so intimidating, even more so than I have ever known a person to be. As if he executed a grip on my heartbeat and could squeeze it with his voice at will.

I considered joining the rest of those who started to leave , but once again, looking over at Sarah, who is seemingly transfixed on the Dr. Her smile was still present but kind of softer than before. She was calm and still engaged in the speech of this man.

The rabble of curious minds so unwanted and undesireable left without a word, and in finally exiting the hall, we began again.

Dr. Aster's presentation now hit its stride with a captive audience, and with total control of the room, he explains the methods used in the military and in media to coerce us or guide us into an action either softly or with fear.

The whole time, there is an audio of white noise playing in the background. None of us dared to bring it up for fear of being singled out by this seemingly terrifying figure cloaked in the form of Dr. Aster.

Then I notice that almost all of us here are girls , maybe most boys are rudely late and inherently curious. It appears most of the boys had left. In fact, I'm pretty sure the remaining students are girls. only about 50 or 60 of us, but I'm pretty sure it's all girls now.

" This next clip I'm about to show you has various suggestions hidden inside it "

I'm going to play it, and you're going to pay attention to it. Do not take your eyes off the screen at any time. Is that understood?"

" I want you to be able to identify the suggestions , its important to you , yes, each of you to find all of them. If one of you misses a single suggestion hidden in this clip, we go again. So it is in your interest to watch very closely relax and take in everything you see"

" Once we start, you will need to recall the suggestions after we finish, I will ask each of you to recall a suggestion from the clip. One by one, you need to remember what you saw."

Dr. Aster's voice was somehow so controlling. I didn't doubt that for a second we would miss a thing. But the idea we might miss something pushes me into a state of intense focus.

Sarah's smile is now gone. She reaches over and holds my hand in my lap, and she seems so still and calm like she's done this a hundred thousand times before.

" Just watch it's really easy to follow this. I'm right here with you. You can do this "

Sarah's voice has a soft calming influence on me, and I prepare myself for the coming test.

Her hand presses against mine.

" Remember you want to see all of the suggestions every one of them or we do it again"

Sarah said those words and I felt confident we would win this game and test of focus.

The clip plays , it flashes so fast I barely saw a thing it was over in 2 seconds. I'm nervous. I think I missed all of them.

Dr Aster snaps his fingers, they echo the hall, and the echo resonates through my mind, as he points at me, my heart stops as he calls out.

" You know them all i can see it in your eyes . Tell me a suggestion you saw"

" Obey "

I said that without thinking I couldn't possibly have seen that, but my voice spoke out like it was the truth.

" Excellent well done, great job," he said immediately, pointing at Sarah he snaps his fingers.

" Slave" she calls out with a weakness to her tone.

Sarah is void of all emotion, and it's strange to see. But she is still holding my hand just like before.

" Excellent, well done, great job," he says as that finger snaps to point at another.

" Master " calls out another weak female voice as if so calm, almost asleep. He asks around the room a few more times before the inevitable happens. Someone misses a suggestion

" I'll play it again. This time, really focus like it's all you have to do. Nothing else is required of you. You only need to focus and receive these suggestions. I will play it a little longer this time to make sure you get them. "

He's giving us a chance this time at least.

The clip plays again, and the white noise just seems to help me this time. I see the words hidden this time, all of them. It's like the clip is somehow slower now, and it's easier to spot the words.

Obey, slave, obey ,master, obey, for, pleasure.

The clip is still going over and over , I see them all now, but it's still going. It's speeding up again, and my mind races to keep up.

The girls in the room have started saying the words out aloud , all of them reciting it like a mantra, all the girls all doing as he said.

" Obey slave obey master obey for pleasure"

Sarah's hand cups my face as she stares at me with a blank thousand yard stare.

" Obey slave obey master obey for pleasure"

Sarah's voice and the chanting mantra go on for minutes before I find myself repeating the mantra each word and feeling it sealing itself in the deepest parts of my mind. A new truth or perhaps an old one and now very much a part of my mind.

Over and over, we chant , the pace quickens my heart beats faster, I feel myself about to pass out before . . . .blank

I wake up to the sound of rapturous applause, and Dr. Aster waving at the hall of students.

As we leave, Sarah takes me over to meet him, I'm confused. What just happened?

As we approach him, I feel myself becoming weak. I'm standing in front of him, and I can't take my eyes off his name tag.

Dr M.Aster

" Master " I say out aloud without a thought of how it might not be appropriate.

He snaps his fingers. I look up at his eyes utterly transixed. I can't look away, and I don't want to. I must pay attention. I must focus. I must not miss a suggestion.

He leans over to me, places his heavy hand on my shoulder, and says in a commanding and yet lowered tone.

" Tonight you will come back here at 11pm sharp with Sarah and the others so you can feel pleasure for obeying your master. You will obey this order slave, and you will be rewarded."

I nod.

He is my master , and it's like he always has been my master and he simply reminded me he was. His power is intoxicating. I want to experience pleasure from my master now more than anything else.

He releases his hand from my shoulder, and my eyes can move again, I'm smiling, and I blush before saying thank you and leave.

As Sarah and I leave, I slowly feel more awake and like I was before. The way I did before I walked through those hall doors. Sarah smiles happily again, looks over at me like she knows a secret she's dying to tell me.

But I smile back , I do know the secret , I do know why she smiles so much. I have a Master and it's all I ever wanted. And we are going to meet him again very soon.

[cal-flakes]

reader making rafe sleep on the couch, ultimately begging him to get back in bed w her 😭😭💗💗

╰┈➤ making rafe sleep on the couch

warnings: swearing.

summary: a petty argument leads to y/n making rafe sleep on the couch, and later regrets it.

“you were the last one to have the keys y/n” rafe grumbled as she stomped around their living room, searching frantically.

“yes, and i put them right there! so you’ve obviously moved them” she snapped back, pointing to the glass bowl on the oak coffee table

they’d been arguing back and forth for a few minutes now. y/n was having a bad week, she’d come on her period a few days prior, and now the cravings were settling in.

she was upstairs in bed with a heating pad when the urge for ice cream invaded her mind, specifically chocolate.

she’s sent rafe a text asking him to check if they had any, but unfortunately he’d eaten the last of it. queue argument number one;

“i bought some the other day rafe, where did it go?” she questioned, her face was flushed and twisted.

“i ate it” he stated, nonchalance in his tone. craning her neck to face him, she glared at him as if he’d suddenly grown two heads.

“what do you mean you ate it?” she spat, unreasonable anger building up inside her chest.

“i mean i ate it princess, i’ll get you some more tomorrow..” he compromised, hoping she’d take it.

he hated period week, dreaded it actually. he did his best to soothe her pain and wipe her tears when necessary, but he was definitely target of the week, every time.

he knew it wasn’t her intention, and that she was just emotional, but once she found something upsetting or angering, she honed in.

“no rafe, i wanted it now!” she whined.

standing up, he sighed to himself. “i’ll go get you some more, okay angel?”

“no, it doesn’t matter, i’ll get it myself” she sneered.

and this is where it got a bit heated, suddenly, y/n couldn’t find the car keys.

“i haven’t moved the keys baby, you must’ve just misplaced them..” he cooed, attempting to stroke her face soothingly but instead she pulled away.

“i know where i put them rafe!” she yelled, tears welling her eyes. he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

“it’s not my fault that you lost the keys y/n!” he groaned, falling back into the couch.

she stared at him, mouth agape. “you know what? for that, you can sleep down here tonight!” she bellowed, heading back upstairs.

before he had a chance to reason with her, he heard the bedroom door slam.

a couple hours went by, and he was flat out on the couch, curled up with the throw blanket.

y/n however had been tossing and turning all night, unnerved by the lack of warmth next to her.

they hadn’t slept separately since they moved in together, and y/n was struggling.

she was so used to rafe’s hands tangled in her hair as he snored softly beside her, used to waking up to her face being peppered with kisses.

whimpering slightly, her eyes brimmed with tears for the third time that day. deciding to drop the stubborn act, she slid out from under the covers and padded downstairs. the house was completely dark aside from the television rafe had forgotten to turn off.

as she entered the living room, she creeped over to where he lay, fast asleep on the couch, and prodded him lightly. “rafe..wake up..”

stirring, a line of gibberish escaped his mouth, eyes groggy. “y/n?” he questioned, squinting his eyes.

“can i sleep with you?” she whispered, pride faltering. he chuckled before moving over as much as he could, opening his arms for her to crawl in beside him.

“you miss me?” he smirked, sleepiness laced in his gravelly voice.

“don’t get cocky, you still moved my keys..” she joked, shuffling closer to him while he spooned her.

[cheesus-doodles]

Going Home: Chapter 5

Yandere Platonic Toman + Time Leaper Darling

Masterlist

‎‎

Going Home: Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

happy thanksgiving! sorry I fell off the earth for a while, died and the immigration queue back from hell took forever, read: took an unexpected hiatus from burnout :'(

Draken stood face to face with Baji, abyss eyes gazing back blankly at the other’s. Panting heavily despite the short distance covered by them both - Draken knew Baji’s shop was just a few streets away from here - their heavy breaths the only sound that echoed down empty residential streets. 

A fucking time leaper. 

Of all the bloody things in the world. 

The thumping of his heart in his ears was hard and furious as Draken turned the information over and over in his head, again and again. It had to be true, what you told his past self. Everything lined up too well for it to not be: your sudden disappearances twelve years ago, your perpetual state of absence from their world, their inability to find even a lick of evidence that you existed somewhere out there save for those old pictures they had pinched from your house. You had simply been lost to the flow of time, drifting in and out of their timeline by some unknown means.

It was a blessing of rain on their gasping earth, this new information, no matter how big of a headache he had getting a blast of memories straight to the brain - you weren’t dead. You hadn’t left this earth, left them. There was still a chance to get you back, to make things right.

Far above his head, the flicker of a streetlight broke the stillness of the thick air, the tick of a clock inside a darkened shop indicating the seconds slipping by with every heaving breath Draken took. It was far too late on a weekday night to be awake in any other circumstance: there was work and school to attend to tomorrow, and the apartments towering above were dark and silent, its residents long asleep. Yet no matter how insignificant their struggles seemed in the face of the world that continued to turn - you were after all just another missing person among thousands of others - here they were, two former delinquents once known and feared for their might gathered like devout cultists. And for any unfortunate soul who might happen to look upon them, Draken mused, they could pass off as some sort of cultist, or madmen even - Baji wasn’t even wearing a shirt for fucks’ sake. The First Division Captain must have been asleep when the memories were cannonballed straight into his head, and had grabbed his apron out of instinct instead of a shirt. He, on the other hand, was at least clad in his working overalls, the wrench he had taken to a customer’s bike ten minutes ago still clutched in hand.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Draken forced himself to focus. There were more urgent questions that needed an answer over him dwelling on the could-bes. Like why now? Why the sudden recollection, an uncontrolled flare of memories that he didn’t previously have? Did something change, perhaps linked to you and your particular situation, that triggered these new memories in not only him but in Baji as well? 

His mind instantly jumped back to four nights ago, when Takemichi had muscled his way back into his life unannounced, those flabby lips boldly asking after you and your whereabouts as if he had any right to do so. Sure, he had thought then that the questions being asked were strange and out of place, off-putting even, but now that he had the time to think and turn the meeting over, now more than ever, the former Toman Vice Captain was sure it couldn’t be a mere coincidence. It wasn’t possible. 

Could it be that Takemichi knew about the new memories? Scratch that, did that scrawny little bastard know about you and your time leaping? Had the two of you met before without the Toman founders’ knowledge? And who was that other man that had been with Takemichi?

Baji’s train of thoughts, however, seemed to have gone down a slightly different path. “So that means that omamori - it didn’t work?” The pet shop owner’s almost panicked question broke Draken out from his pondering. “Did you lose it?”

Almost instinctively, Draken’s hand went to his neck, though the purple and gold charm hadn’t hung there in years. Where had that gone? Try as he might, his mind was blank, the bike-loving mechanic struggling to even recall the last time he had seen the small embroidered cloth. What happened to the omamori in the past twelve years? Had it been misplaced somewhere along the way? He hadn’t thought about it much, not since you went missing all those years ago. But how could he have just simply forgotten about something as important as that? Something that was so inherently…you? You had always been the one to bear the charm, a symbol of the place you once held at the center of Toman, a symbol of the protection its delinquent founders afforded you.

Either way, wherever the omamori had gone now, he was sure that right before you were lost to time - “I had it,” Draken mumbled. “I’m sure I had it with me when she went missing. The memory, I just got that.”

‎

‎

The former First Division Captain of the Tokyo Manji Gang has had a long day. A long, tiring, annoying day. Running a pet shop while working towards his vet license was far from the easiest thing, and Baji had used up most of his energy between stopping himself from letting his notoriously short temper loose on several irritating customers who didn’t know how close they came to meeting the business end of his fists, and attempting to understand the absolutely convoluted material he needed to learn for one of many classes. So when he had finally tumbled into bed at the end of the day, exhausted and ready for the welcome of sleep, the last thing he expected was to have what felt like an ice pick to his head - a sudden blast of memories and recollections that the man couldn’t control, that he didn’t have before, that ached and burned as they bombarded his mind, settling between existing memories as if they had always been there.

It gave him a serious headache that no amount of ice could get rid off - which sucked a ton, of course - but even through the gnawing throb, it gave him a renewed sense of hope that Baji clung to like a drowning man to a life buoy. You weren’t dead. No, you were very, very much alive, even now while you were still lost to the grasp of time. The main question was why? Why were you still missing? They had it all figured out twelve years ago. Your disappearance was supposed to have been solved.

Baji’s hands moved to grab Draken by the front of his shirt, shaking the other man vigorously. “If you had it, then she shouldn’t be here,” the black-haired man snarled, his fists tightening around the rough material of the overalls. “She wouldn’t have gone missing twelve years ago.”

“There must be more to it then,” the man in the overalls muttered under his breath, one hand coming up to grasp his chin . “Maybe it’s not just the omamori.”

Something beyond the charm?

Yellow eyes scanned the surroundings as he contemplated the recent revelations. The alley where the two of them now stood held many bitter memories, given it was where you had disappeared from the first time, though the large grass patch a stone’s throw away wasn’t any more reassuring. It was where your school once stood, where he recalled picking you up from countless times from the curb, his loud motorbike drawing stares and shudders alike, where the Toman founders once regular gathered to dish out beatings to your schoolmates for their insolence towards you, where your life had revolved around. 

The building was long gone, burnt down in an act of arson that the police declined to investigate, with the rumor mills pointed at organized crime - and this man could guess exactly which one. The black-haired former delinquent hesitated, before speaking again. “But what else? Intention?”

Draken brushed his questions off, those abyss eyes focusing. “This isn’t the time to figure this out, Baji. The new memories; it has to be because she time leapt again, which means -”

“She’s here.” Baji’s mind raced with the implications, his entire mind feeling as if it was on fire - once sleepy and exhausted from the day’s work but now running at full speed. That memory of you comforting the Toman founders after your return, telling them that you were a time leaper. You were alive for now, though it would be hard to say how long that would last - if you had truly time leapt and were now here, in their future, then the pet shop owner had yet to see head or toe of you. “The first time she went missing, where could she have gone?” 

What was it that made you so reluctant to tell your friends what happened in the future?

Something seemed to click into place in Draken's brain, the growing horror on his face telling Baji everything he needed to know about the resolved puzzle. “Mikey.” 

The sole name was uttered like the arriving finale of an apocalypse. 

It made sense. You would do that - you would, if it was Mikey. If it was any of your beloved friends.

The two of them make a break for it as if on cue, sprinting towards the same destination with a wordless agreement; your house, Baji knew as he willed himself to go faster. It was where he was sure you would go if you were really here. 

If you died here, in their future, would that also mean that you would also die back in the past where you came from? Would he never see you again? Your warm smile and loving hugs flashed through Baji’s mind, and he bit his tongue. No, that wasn’t a thought he was even going to entertain. Nothing close to that would even be the slightest bit acceptable. They were going to find you, and they were going to make sure you got home. Safely.

“How long has it been? Since the memories?”

“15 minutes.”

There was no response from Draken this time, though both men’s strides hastened, flying across the concrete as they rounded the corner almost at the same time, nearly crashing into each other, their curses flying free from their lips and into the night sky. There were a lot of things they needed to ask you, but now the most important thing was that they needed to get to you, before Mikey’s fingers could close around you.

‎

‎

“Do you think she’s some sort of time traveler?”

Kakucho startled, blinking as he turned away from watching the familiar sights and sounds of Tokyo rushing by outside of the limousine. “Pardon?”

The ride from Bonten HQ had been completely silent up till now, the whirl of the air-conditioning combined with the light patter of rain having been just loud enough to cover the sound of the two men breathing. It was tense, and though that usually would be the right way to describe being in any sort of confined space with Sanzu, this time was different. 

Despite the former Tenjiku member being one of two people who had what could be counted as a decent relationship with the other’s maniacal state, there was something about this rational pink-haired man that sent a shiver running down Kakucho’s spine. Sure, the usually rabid, drugged-up Sanzu had always been unpredictable when it came to his next move or even his next thought, but this version of Bonten’s second in command with forced mental clarity was downright dangerous; he had a singular goal to achieve, and it was Mikey’s survival. At any expense.

Said man didn’t move, continuing to simply gaze out of the car with an uncharacteristic calmness, alert half-lidded green eyes lifting momentarily to glance at Kakucho through the reflection in the tinted window glass. “Do you think she’s a time traveler?” He repeated. 

Kakucho almost laughed out loud, though it was years of discipline and control over his expression that stopped his facial muscles from even twitching. He would have let the chuckle stuck in his throat loose if it was anyone else that occupied the far end of the car, if there was the slightest possibility that Sanzu had been joking around. But there was no humor in the other’s tone, nothing that would indicate the question wasn’t genuine, nor was Mikey’s right-hand man the only one to have this particular idea. 

Leaning back into his seat, his arms folding across his chest, Kakucho himself recalled having a similar train of thought the first time he had stumbled into your room and his eye was met with your trembling pair. “I believe she would be a good candidate for one,” the Bonten Number Three carefully answered, every word painstakingly picked, all the while making sure to keep his sole working eye trained on Sanzu. “If there is any possibility that time traveling exists.”

Sanzu tsked, clearly annoyed at Kakucho’s indirect answer. Perhaps he was looking for a more yes or no answer? “She looks exactly the same from back when Toman was around,” the pink-haired man mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for the black-haired man to catch.

The car once more fell into a tense silence as the two men sat and stewed in their own thoughts, the lights of the world outside flashing by uncaringly. Kakucho turned his focus once more to the phone clutched in his hand, absentmindedly scrolling through the updates back from headquarters that constantly lit up his screen, his face as stoic as it always was - without a doubt in his mind, the real you had been a clear one-to-one match to your picture from twelve years ago Mikey had provided. You looked too young to have been missing for so many years. 

This whole situation all sounded too much like a sick joke that someone out there was playing with them and their very lives, but the sinking feeling in his gut told Kakucho everything he needed to know; there was no way that this was the end just yet.

‎

By the time the sleek black limousine pulled up along your street, the minutes the ride had taken from Bonten Headquarters to your street felt more like hours. The rain had now become heavier, fat droplets falling from the night sky pelting everything and anything below, the moon and stars that usually twinkled in the dark of space obscured by storm clouds rolling past overhead. The air was thick, humid, and weighty with every breath.

It was one of those rare times that Kakucho could genuinely claim that he was nervous, the pound of his heart in his chest hard enough that he could almost hear it echoing in the car even if expression remained as impassive as it always have been. 

The only other time your house alarm had been tripped, yes it was indeed you who he had found. And even this time, he had the constant confirmation back from headquarters that it was someone who managed your general statue that was loitering around the vicinity of what used to be your home, but the what-ifs continued to plague Kakucho. What if it was all a mere coincidence, and he and Sanzu find someone else instead; a burglar, maybe an unsuspecting passerby taking shelter? What if it was you, but by the time they arrived you were already gone? What if someone else got to you first? 

Kakucho shook his head, attempting to pull his full focus back to reality as the car rolled to a full stop outside the all-too familiar house, the two men preparing to leave. There was little point in entertaining such anxiety driven thoughts. They will find out soon enough whether you were truly back. 

As soon as the door on his end swung open, the unease instantly drained away from the black-haired man - there you were. Seated on the steps of the front porch of your house, you were truly a sight for sore eyes amidst the pouring rain, the brightly colored pajamas that you wore making you stick out against the backdrop of your unlit house. You must have been asleep before you were…pulled (from where, Kakucho would make no assumptions at this current point in time), no surprise given the time of night.

You gave them a small wave as two umbrellas sprouted up from the car door like mushrooms, a moving refuge from the anger of the heavers; your gaze following them as the two men strolled up the street, letting themselves in through the small gate at front of your house. “Hello again,” you greeted cheerfully as you stood, pausing momentarily to dust the back of your pants off. “Kakucho-san, Sanzu-san.” 

Kakucho nodded in acknowledgement, his sole red eye glancing cautiously around the neighborhood. It was dead silent, the row of bland gray houses that stretched as far he could see all dark and unlit, though to the seasoned yakuza, the calmness was far from reassuring, the dark of night only equating to more places for potential threats to find. It was dangerous to have you out in the open like that, especially with your association with Bonten. “Why aren’t you waiting inside for us?” 

You shrugged. “I didn’t have my keys on me this time,” you answered honestly.

Sanzu’s scarred lips pulled downwards in clear disapproval of your decision, the pink-haired man turning back towards the waiting limousine, not waiting to see if you followed, his umbrella bobbing slightly with each stride. “This way.”

Time traveler, the two words echoed again in Kakucho’s head as he patiently waited for you, watching as you hopped the last few steps to take shelter under his umbrella as he walked you out to the car, your comparatively juvenile face turning to beam up at him. If there was any doubt before, he was more certain of it than not. There was simply no way you weren’t a time leaper.

‎

‎

Sanzu couldn’t find it in himself to be angry at your lack of awareness. Hell, his sheer hatred of you had been draining away with every new forceful injection of memories, and the former Toman delinquent could hardly recall why he resented you so much to begin with at this point. Those voices that had been nagging at the back of his mind for the past fourteen years seemingly having been silenced for good; then again, it could also just be him weaning off the cocktail of drugs he had religiously been on. Who knows? You had always been a good egg as far as he could remember, a kind soul to whoever you met whether or not Mikey and the other less-important founders approved. Had it just been mere jealousy over the closeness you shared with his king that had driven him to that extreme? 

The pink-haired man rubbed at his temples, the most recent blast of new memories straight into his brain having given him a splitting headache, the aftereffects still radiating from the back of his head. The rain pounding away on his umbrella and everywhere in general wasn’t helping either. Perhaps it was because the last round he had been unconscious after being shot while high on drugs, cause he didn’t remember the experience being this painful or defined previously. 

But more importantly, with every new wave, he was now as certain as he is that the path to hell is hot that one, the omamori from the founding of the Toman gang - the purple and gold one that he had seen you carry twelve years ago as a testament to your favor from Mikey - had something to do with your disappearance twelve years ago. And two: you were definitely some sort of time traveler. If not, the new memories he got of you from the past just wouldn’t make sense, why would you be attempting to apologize for nothing? You had to be apologizing for getting him in trouble with Mikey (after he attempted to strangle you to death, that is, but that was a small detail).

Thunder rumbled in the distance, a clear sign of displeasure from the heavens on Sanzu’s heretic thoughts - time leaping, of all possible things. He was never going to live it down if he was wrong, the Haitani brothers would make sure of that. But then again, didn’t Rindou also say that he got those new memories? 

The heavy rain continued to pour relentlessly, dampening the scar-lipped man’s mood further as he tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for Kakucho and you to catch up. Honestly, could you be any slower?

‎

It was the sudden sound of pounding in the distance that first caught his ear, a faint thumping that stood out from the otherwise rhythmic rain pelting down to earth; a sound that Sanzu identified as running. You were about halfway to the limo now, and the Bonten second-in-command willed you to move faster. If it had been any other time, it wouldn’t be such a red flag. But this was a residential estate, in the middle of the night.

No sane person would be running at this time.

A suspicious glance around by clear green eyes yielded nothing at first, the drumming of feet was certainly still there amidst the rain, but the coast was clear as of now, and the mafioso opted to stay on high alert. Years of delinquency followed by a descent into the yakuza world had taught Sanzu not to let his guard down easily, and he signaled to Kakucho, urging him to hurry you up, a telltale tingle running down his spine. 

He didn’t like this one bit - they were exposed on the street, moving slowly with a precious payload. No good news. The faster all of them could get into the limousine and get out of this place, the better.

Those footsteps though, they just kept coming closer and closer, growing ever louder and stronger with every tick from his watch. 

And the next thing Sanzu knew, it was the screech of shoes turning a wet concrete corner way too fast, and then the awfully familiar and wholly unwelcomed silhouettes of Draken and Baji came screeching round the corner, their eyes instantly snapping first to you, and then moving to glance between him and Kakucho, their eyes widening simultaneously as it dawned on them what they were witnessing. Both plainly-colored mobs of long hair were obviously soaked even from this distance, the drenched clothes and lack of umbrellas that the former Toman founders were clad in telling the Bonten mafioso everything he needed to do now. 

They must have gotten the new memories as well. They must know now.

Fuck, what had happened in the past? How is it more and more people were getting the memories?

“Draken? Baji?” You wondered out loud, your voice tinted uncertainty as to whether who you saw speeding towards you were indeed the Toman founders you knew.

He glanced at them again, and then at the car. Godammit, their pace was picking up. Maybe if he had been a bit faster, a bit more insistent in herding you into the car. Maybe if he had just grabbed you and hurled you over his shoulder like potatoes. 

But it was too little too late. This wasn’t part of the plan. Sanzu couldn’t lose you to them now - not with Mikey’s life on the line.

“Fucking hell,” the man with the scarred lips swore, throwing aside his umbrella, his now freed hand reaching under his coat and pulling out his gun from its holster in one smooth move, flicking the safety off as he raised the weapon.

You, however, were faster. “No! Sanzu, don’t!” 

Throwing yourself straight at his gun with a panicked cry, said mafiaso had no choice other than to immediately lower his weapon to avoid your outstretched hands, the click of the safety switching back on lost in the pouring rain. Now that you were finally back with Bonten, the last thing Sanzu wanted to do was to be responsible for the death of his king by accidentally shooting you.

He turned to bark at the other Bonten member. “Cover me, Kakucho!”

Said man lept into action, withdrawing his firearm, aiming and firing off two shots at the ground in front of the charging Toman founder, forcing them to screech to a halt, though their quaking eyes remained fixed on you.

You screamed.

With a quick holster of his gun, Sanzu swung, his arm catching you around the middle, and you were shoved through the open car door into the backseat of the limousine, the purple-suited man quickly following suit.

The roar of anger from both Draken and Baji reverberated through the streets, their sheer fury palpable. “SANZU!” Draken bellowed. “LET HER GO!”

”I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU SANZU!” Baji thundered in unison, his mob of black hair whipping backwards amidst the equally ferocious rain.

Sanzu wasn’t going to wait around to find out. “’We’re leaving!” He barked at Kakucho, simultaneously giving the driver’s divide a few rapid pounds.

Keeping his gun raised, Kakucho retreated quickly, throwing himself through the open car door that slammed shut behind him. The car peeled off, leaving Draken and Baji standing on the curb right outside your house, staring at the car disappearing into the rainy mist.

‎

‎

On the other end of the sleepy Tokyo metropolitan, the rain was equally relentless, a harsh howling wind rattling windows as it swept the fat raindrops inwards, drenching a miserable and already shivering Takemichi. The three more raps on Naoto’s front door were barely audible through the chaos that the sky was remaining down, though the former delinquent opted to resume his nervous pacing up and down along the apartment corridor, his furrowed brows and lost gaze accurately portraying the turmoil in his head. It had to be you, the twenty-six year old thought to himself as he wrung his hands in despair - that glimpse of a fleeting shadow he spotted near where your school once stood; it had to be. There was no doubt about it. 

Yet he didn’t have a single whiff of evidence to back his claim up, just that churning feeling in the pit of his gut. Takemichi let out a low groan, slumping against the tiled wall, the wet tiles making little difference to his already soggy clothes. At this point, what else could he do but only hope against hope that it was enough to convince the younger Tachibana?

So occupied in his turbulent thoughts that he missed the beige door - one of many identical ones that lined the entire hallway - creaking open, a familiar mob of black hair peering out. “Takemichi? What’re you doing here at this time?”

Takemichi turned robotically at the words before turning back to face the open air and pelting rain, before his messy brain did a double take and it registered who had spoken. The tears sprang forth before he could stop them. 

“Nao-Naoto!” The former delinquent wailed, barreling his way into the house and almost running the other man over before Naoto could reprimand him for his atrocious lack of respect for the neighbors. The apartment was as it always was, always had been in every timeline; plainly decorated, clean and neat, not that it mattered to a borderline hysterical Takemichi at the moment.

“I-I saw her, Naoto! N-near her school lot! I swear it was her!” He rambled, his hands clutching his shirt with a death grip, explosively energized from frayed nerves even as blown eyes glanced between the cupboard and Naoto. “You have to believe me!”

His head pounded. Naoto must believe him. He has to.

“....kemichi! Takemichi!”

His head flew left sharply, his ears ringing from the force. The stinging pain on his cheek only set in seconds later. But it finally broke Takemichi out from his meltdown, snapping him straight back to reality.

“I know she’s back! I got it, breathe,” Naoto directed the hyperventilating man to have a seat at the dining table before shuffling away, returning with two steaming mugs. ”Feeling better?”

Hand coming up to hesitatingly poke at the reddening and swelling cheek, the former delinquent throwing a dirty side-eye at the younger Tachibana sibling, though he was quick to drop his look when the other turned to face him. ”You didn’t have to hit me,” Takemichi muttered, before grumbling his begrudging thanks as he accepted the cup.

Naoto raised an eyebrow, taking the opposite seat. “You weren’t listening.”

“Okay, okay, fine. So you believe me?”

“I do,” the detective nodded. “And I have news for you. Bad news.” From a side drawer, he retrieved what seemed like a small piece of paper and slid it across the table to Takemichi. A photograph of some sorts. The image itself was blurry and hard to make out, as if it had been taken quickly, perhaps in passing or if the photographer had to hide after the snap..

Blue eyes squinted as Takemichi tried to interpret the picture, lifting it closer to his face. What was this even supposed to be? A white cat or something hiding among some large rocks? But those rectangular light sources could pass for a shop window? The photo was all but pressed against his nose before Naoto forcibly yanked Takemictchi’s hand back far enough to tap at the mob of white-hair. 

The former delinquent looked up at the other man. “This is…”

”Mikey,” Naoto said resolutely. “Bonten’s boss.”

‎

The air was still in the apartment as the former Toman member followed the detective’s pointing finger up to those black eyes, the storm outside lashing out against the windows and thunder booming in the distance filling the tense silence. It couldn’t be. That couldn’t be true, Takemichi tried to tell himself, a desperate chuckle slipping his lips as he waited for Naoto to break into a laugh. A smile. To say that he was joking, to name another person, another cruel entity that could possibly commit such heinous crimes. Anything.

Because it couldn’t be. Not the Mikey he knew. 

But even the quirk of his lips drained away when the Tachibana didn’t break the moody tension, his severe expression never wavering. Naoto meant it.

It was like a physical punch to his gut.

“Mikey?” Takemichi gasped out, barely able to catch his breath. The images of those tormented souls and their broken bodies that Naoto had shown him previously roared straight to the front of his mind once more, his face turning green from the mere memory. “It can’t be- Mikey wouldn’t-” Mikey wouldn’t do something like that, was what he wanted to say, the words dying on his lips as those blue eyes trembled with unshed tears.

The smoke from the tea wafted lazily through the air, the smell of green tea light and fragrant; a small relief from the heavy atmosphere that weighed down on his chest.

Yet Naoto pressed on, all but ignoring the stammered rebuttal; facts were unfortunately facts. He tapped the photo once more, and Takemichi’s eyes followed his finger to the small figure with their face turned upwards, almost completely hidden between the ring of black - the backs of bodyguards, his mind instinctively told him - and Mikey. “And that,” the detective said seriously. “Is who you’re looking for.”

Your name sprang instantly to the tip of Takemichi’s tongue, but he swallowed it back down on instinct alone before he could accidentally let it slip through his lips, lest one of the Toman founders hear of his transgressions through time. “The seventh Toman Founder,” he said, almost reverently. You were like a myth, a legend to all who made up Toman’s ranks, your mere name alone enough to send a shiver of fear down the spines of the black-clad boys. He still had never met nor seen you in person - and it all the more seemed to reinforce that legendary status. “This is her?”

Naoto nodded. “This was taken last week, about five days ago.” From the same side drawer, the police detective took out a case file, your school photo prominently pinned to the front.

Wait. The two photos, it wasn’t possible. “But she looks exactly the same…”

“Which means she is a time leaper,” Naoto confirmed. “Like you, Takemichi. There’s no doubt about it now.”  A pause, as the younger man let his words sink in, before he continued. “But the difference is that she’s not in her older body. She’s switching places completely.”

“Plus her time leaping is overriding mine. There’s no new timeline, not even after we saved Draken. Just new memories?”

“New memories, yes. I haven’t received anything as of late, so I don’t know if she’s here or in the past at the moment. And on top of all this, we still don’t know if anyone else is getting those memories too.”

The throb of his mind as Takemichi to wrestle with and digest the avalanche of new information only served to reinforce just how convoluted this entire situation was. “So-  Naoto, do you think she may have already told Mikey that she’s a time leaper?”

Said detective frowned. “She could have - they are good friends, no? He, and the rest of Toman, could very well be getting the memories as well.”

Takemichi slumps down in his seat; that would complicate things a lot. A ton, in fact. He desperately needs to speak with you, and fast; just to understand better what he could do to break the cycle, and perhaps even learn more about his own time leaping abilities - if you were capable of changing memories, you might have already inevitably told Mikey and the others that you were a time leaper. 

The one problem was figuring out if you’re here in the future or back in the past, and it wasn’t as if he could just saunter up and ask without turning into a smear on the street. Takemichi’s best bet would be trying to catch you here, in what was your future, somewhere he could talk to you without the shadow of the Toman founders hanging over you; but if Mikey and Bonten already had you in his grasp… 

Then the chance of Takemichi being able to speak to you would be close to zero. 

He needed a solution and stat.

‎

‎

The limousine sped by familiar roads, the rain that refused to let up a cacophony of sound against the metal shell of the limousine. It at least brought you a momentary solace, your heart continuing to race away like the pounding feet of a horse as you tried to process what had just happened. Everything looked glazed over, as if you were viewing the world around you through a layer of frosted glass, your eyes swirling around in your head as you tried to catch your breath, tried to stop your thoughts from spiralling down an unending and hopeless abyss.

Draken and Baji - they were right there. Your precious friends. 

Not only were you back in the same future, with the same tired, bone-thin Mikey you remembered leaving behind, the friends you had thought the worst had happened to were still a part of this timeline. 

Why hadn’t Mikey answered you all that time ago, when you had asked him about where the rest of your friends were? You had assumed the white-haired man only refused to speak due to an incomprehensible tragedy that befell his once-closest allies, that had ripped the rest of the Toman founders away from him and left him in that sorry state. You had felt that profound sadness pouring from your friend, experienced the grief that clenched at your heart. And you had decided not to pry, to not surface what would be extremely painful memories. 

But you had seen them with your own eyes, and they were fine. Alive, breathing. Caring. They had come for you even in the torrential rain, fists swinging, yelling and pissing off your neighbours in the process as they always did. Nothing you could stay mad at, really.

So why? Why didn’t Mikey want to tell you? Why wasn’t he in contact with the rest?

The lights that flashed by through heavily tinted windows held no answers for you, the dull pinks, purples and yellows of the fluorescent signs that made it through briefly illuminating the skin of your hand before fading back into the shadows as quickly as it came, the car leaving the quiet residential streets for the city that never sleeps.

You needed to speak with the future’s Draken and Baji, you decided. You weren’t sure how, given what you had witnessed earlier and Mikey’s likely clinginess, but you had to find out what was going on. If not to find out if they perhaps knew anything about your time leaping that you didn’t, then at least to understand the chasm that had developed between your friends.

‎

“Fuck, I’m fucking drenched!” Sanzu complained loudly, pulling at the soaked purple striped vest and allowing the heavy cloth to sag under its own weight. Kakuchi himself grimaced at his own dripping state, but said nothing save to grunt in acknowledgement.

There was no doubt about it now, you mused to yourself albeit grimly as you settled back into the car seat, your pajamas squelching slightly under you as you glanced between a grumbling Sanzu and a stoic Kakucho. You sure hoped that the pink-haired man wasn’t going to use the opportunity to wrap his hands around your throat again, though he did seem pretty calm this time. Still, you still opted to shift somewhat towards Kakucho. Just to be safe. 

Fidgeting with the hem of your pajamas, you glanced out the window again. The tension simmering in the car, combined with the sheer silence that permeated the air, made the atmosphere a bit too heavy for comfort. You bit your lip. What to say? “How’s Mikey?” You decided on asking. At least the one thing that you knew for sure that both men were fiercely loyal to Mikey, not that you wanted to know why the devotion; some things were better not known, much like how you avoided asking your Toman friends what they’ve been up to while you were away. 

The sudden stillness was deafening. Even the patter of raindrops faded away, blanketed by this oppressive tranquility that weighed on your chest, on you. You hardly dared to breathe, let alone move, with both Sanzu and Kakucho seeming to freeze on your question. Were they unsure on how to answer you? Scarred lips twitched as if making to speak, those piercing green eyes darting sideways to meet yours before drifting away, Sanzu ultimately deciding against whatever it was he wanted to say. Kakucho simply continued to face forward, though you did catch his sole working red eye fixed on you, unspoken words lost to the raging storm.

The pink-haired man finally replied. “Mikey’s…not doing well,” was all he said, before he turned to look back out the window, his hand dipping into his striped vest’s pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes, though he ultimately thought better of it and stuffed the crumpled box back.

You stared at him, mouth agape. Turning to Kakucho only resulted in the other man avoiding your gaze. If that was all the two had to say, then this was not good. Not in the slightest.

‎

Your heart wrenched when Sanzu led you into the infirmary, with your two sets of footsteps echoing off the white walls The spotless room was enormous, empty beds lining both walls, neatly made with their curtains drawn - save for one at the far end. And it was in the sole occupied bed that you spotted Mikey’s frail frame, a small lump under the covers, his white-hair all but blending into the clean sheets. Sighing, you sank down into the hard plastic chair, your hand reaching out to brush against the pulled covers. “Mikey,” you whispered, the sole word heavy with guilt. You wanted to touch him, to run your fingers gently through his hair, to pull your friend into your arms and assure him everything would be all right. That he needn’t suffer, that you would care for him.

But you restrained yourself, your arm falling limply to one side. This was all your fault. You had been too hasty, too eager to return home, too assured in the idea that this timeline would simply fade into your memory, that the outcome would change when you did so little. But now, reality was staring you cold in the face, and you couldn’t think of a time when you had seen Mikey so frail.

At the sound of your voice, the form stirred, stiff shoulders instantly relaxing as those abyss eyes met yours, blinking weakly. You saw your name formed on his lips, though no sound left his throat. It seemed that even the sight of you had completely relaxed the broken man. 

A soft click, as Sanzu quietly exited the room, leaving you and Mikey alone. “I brought you some food Mikey. Would you like to have something to eat or drink?” You showed the white-haired man the paper-wrapped taiyaki and the glass of water you had brought with you; upon your earlier arrival, Sanzu had brought you straight to the kitchens to whip up something quick. You had your suspicions on what had happened, though you hadn’t quite realized just how bad it had gotten until you laid eyes on Mikey.

Fortunately, it seemed Mikey instantly recognized the cake as your handmade variety, not store-bought or Sanzu’s, and as if on cue, his stomach began to rumble. Your lips quirked a small smile, and you turned to set the glass of water down, before tearing off a small chunk of taiyaki. Cooling it down with a blow, you carefully dipped it in some water to moisten the piece (heresy, but so much easier to eat for someone who hadn’t in four days), before holding it up to your friend’s lips. “Ahhhhh.”

The white-haired man obliged, his lips parting to allow you to press the small morsel of food into his mouth. A quick bite and then swallow. You managed to repeat the process two more times before the other’s eyes were all but closed, the exhaustion setting in now with some food in his belly. 

Rewrapping the taiyaki in its paper, you kicked off your shoes, climbed onto the infirmary bed and settled next to Mikey. His eyes already fluttered shut, it didn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around you and tucking his face into the crook of your neck as you crawled under the sheets, the other’s breathing evening out before you closed your eyes, finally at peace.

‎

‎

Twelve years separate from you and stuck in the past where they couldn’t get to you, the Toman founders once more found themselves in a conundrum they had no answers to.

Kazutora’s hysterical wails, a piercing cry that the boy couldn’t seem to stop and had been all that anyone within a hundred meter radius would have heard for a good half-hour, had thankfully died down into whimpers, his throat sore though the situation was far from resolved. The fearsome delinquent had been reduced to nothing more than a sniffling baby clutching onto your well-worn sweater, one that smelt strongly of you, his tears soaking the cloth as he buried his face into the soft material.

“She time-lept again?” Baji let out a groan, hands pulling at his face, his sweat-drenched black hair plastered uncomfortably to the nape of his neck. “But how? We have the omamori.”

“And it hasn’t left me since I got it,” Draken noted, pulling down the singlet he had opted for to reveal the purple and gold charm still pressed tight against his clavicle, where he had been wearing it day and night. “I wear it even when I shower.”

The weather was sweltering, the summer afternoon sun mercilessly baking everything and everyone under its light, and the lack of even a hot breeze made the whole situation ever so less tolerable. Gathered below the shade of your favourite oak tree in a clearing not too far from your school, it was once more an unfavourable situation over which the Toman founders were gathered, 

Mikey pulled a face, looking extremely unimpressed as sweat poured freely off his forehead. “Maybe it’s cause I should have been the one to wear it.” 

Kazutora only whimpered again in response, his fingers wrapping around your piece of clothing even tighter. Everyone present knew what he meant without speaking.

“Drop it Mikey, that’s not the issue right now.” Mitsuya sighed out, the relief at no longer being blamed for your disappearance clear on his expression even if his distress at you being missing wasn’t any less.

A pause, the uncaring city continuing to bustle around them.

“Maybe,” Pah said carefully, the usually loud boy looking like he was concentrating extraordinarily hard on the current situation, his forehead scrunched with his chin held in one hand. “Maybe there’s another omamori in the future as well.”

The other five boys robotically turned to look at the Fifth Division Captain as if he had grown a second head, their necks stiff and creaking. They hadn’t considered that possibility in the slightest, and the unusual insight from the usually act-first-think-later boy caught them off guard.

“It makes sense,” The lilac-haired delinquent admitted, Mitsuya drawing one leg up to balance on the bench. “We hadn’t thought of it, but why wouldn’t there be this omamori in the future?”

“Could have lost it,” Draken suggested.

Mikey snorted. “No way.” To which the other founders present murmured their agreement - it would be unlikely for them to misplace something so precious. “But I agree. There must be more to just having the omamori.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Baji lamented, running one hand through his long, sweat-soaked hair. “Time’s ticking, and we don’t know what’s happening in the future. What if she’s already hurt? Or dead?”

The small gathering of boys fell silent once more. Whatever was going on with the omamori, it was clear more than ever to the Toman founders that there were still too many unanswered questions. With every tick of the watch, every passing second that you were stuck in the future and apart from the Toman founders, your safety and fate grew ever more uncertain. They needed to get you back home with them, and fast.

“So what now?”