#and I don’t think he is choosing the leave anytime soon

[lavander-galaxy]

Shoutout to the curly hair alastor enjoyers out there this one is for you 🗣️🗣️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[dyaz-stories]

JUJUTSU BOYS + POST SHIBUYA HURT/COMFORT

following Shibuya, the Jujutsu boys are in dire need of some comfort

featuring: nanami, yuuji, megumi, maki, inumaki, yuta, gojo

word count: 4.7k (600-700 words per character)

cw: canon divergence for nanami and gojo, season 2 spoilers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, descriptions of injuries, everyone needs a hug, some fluff ig, established relationships, not proofread

NANAMI

“He woke up,” Shoko informs you, closing the room to Kento’s door behind her. She doesn’t bother with small talk, gives only the necessary information since Shibuya. You don’t blame her. You understand why she would choose to keep her energy for what she thinks is essential. So when she approaches you, hands buried in her pockets, you know there is something she believes is that important to tell you.

“Is he— Has he said anything?”

“He thanked me — you know how he is. But, um— he’s lost an eye, and he’s badly burned. There’s nothing I can do about that. I’m sorry.”

She sounds genuinely dejected, but you shake your head.

“It doesn’t matter. Without you, he wouldn’t be alive. Can I—”

She gives you a faint smile.

“Sure. You can go in.”

You don’t wait for her to have finished her sentence to open the door. Kento looks up at you, and you take him in for a second. An eye patch covers his left eye, and that whole side of his body is burnt, badly, with fresh bandages covering it. It doesn’t stop you from launching himself into his arms, and he catches you without missing a beat.

“You’re alive,” is all you can say, repeating it like a mantra.

“I am,” he answers. “I apologize for worrying you.”

So very like him, apologizing while he’s lying on a hospital bed after suffering from horrific injuries.

“Thank you for coming back to me,” you whisper into his neck, tears rolling freely from your cheeks. “I don’t— I don’t—” I don’t know how I would have kept living without you.

His eye is filled with fondness and love, when he looks at you.

“Does it hurt a lot?” you ask, gesturing at his left side.

“It does not,” he answers. “Shoko’s abilities are quite remarkable for that. I am healed. The bandages are mostly to stop the skin from becoming too dry — due to the size of the area, she couldn’t do it all herself.”

“Then… can I kiss you?”

He swallows around the lump in his throat. If he is honest, when Shoko talked to him after he woke up, one of his greatest fears was that you would be disgusted by him. He knows you find him handsome — found him handsome, at least. He knows that this was thinking far too little of you, and yet relief washes over him at your question.

“You can always kiss me.”

You’re cautious when you do, don’t want to risk hurting him, despite what he’s just told you. Your lips feel like coming home, and he loses himself in you, if only for a moment. All too soon, he feels the need to pull away for air. Even with Shoko’s miracle work, he feels weak, a sensation he finds himself hating with his entire being. He likes being strong, likes being your rock, likes supporting you in any situation. He despises the fact that that has been taken away from him.

“I think it would be for the best if I spent the night here,” he tells you. “The chair isn’t very comfortable, so if you wish to go home, I wouldn’t—”

You shake your head immediately.

“I’m not leaving you anytime soon. I’m spending the night here. I’m sure I can find a pillow and a blanket somewhere, and I will be just fine with that.”

Aren’t you just adorable when you’ve made up your mind?

“If that is okay with you, that’s fine with me,” he nods. “But, first…” He opens his arm on the right side. “Would you join me?”

There isn’t much space in the bed for the two of you, but you make it fit, leaning against the wall so he can have his head against your chest. Even though he wants nothing more than to revel in the moment, he feels his eyes closing, lulled by the beating of your heart and your fingers carding through his hair.

He loves taking care of you but he supposes that, for the time being, it won’t be too bad if he’s the one being taken care of.

YUUJI

Finding Yuuji following the Shibuya Incident requires you to venture into the belly of Tokyo, making your way through curse after curse, stepping over the bodies of sorcerers and humans alike, never taking the time to stop. At least Megumi had warned you that he was likely to keep moving, so you hadn’t given up hope yet, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t afraid for him. Not physically, no, you didn’t think there was anything left here that could actually hurt him, but, based on what Megumi had told you, his head hung low, you can only imagine how devastated he must be.

You spot him when he finishes off a curse, on a rooftop near you. It isn’t long before you land there yourself, and there he is.

“Yuuji!”

He freezes when you call out his name, and turns towards you oh so slowly. When he looks at you, you could almost cry with relief. There he is, your Yuuji. A little worse for wear, but alright. You take a step towards him, ready to run into his arms, when he takes a step back.

A tall man wearing a kimono, his hair tied into two buns, lands in front of him, between the two of you.

“Who is that?” he asks Yuuji. “Do you want me to take care of it?”

There is quiet resolution in his voice. He doesn’t sound like he wants to kill you, but you don’t think he would hesitate to do it.

“N-no,” Yuji says, his voice hoarse. “No, it’s alright, Choso. Would you mind…?”

The man nods, still not showing any emotions.

“Of course. I’ll give the two of you some space.”

He throws you a threatening glance — as if you could ever be a threat to Yuuji — before jumping off the building.

You take another step forward. This time, Yuuji doesn’t move, but he refuses to meet your eyes.

“Don’t,” he says. He sounds weak.

Another step.

“Why not?”

He closes his eyes.

“I’ve killed—” A deep, shuddering breath. “—so many people.”

Step.

“That wasn’t you.”

You say it softly, gently, but you’re not sure that he can hear you, as he is now.

“It’s still my fault.”

His voice is no stronger than a whisper.

“It was Sukuna’s doing.” Step. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Step.

You’re close to him now, close enough to see his hands balled up into fists, his lower lip trembling, how he scrunches his face so he doesn’t cry.

“Yuji,” you call, and in your mouth, his name sounds like a term of endearment. “It’s not your fault.”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t have anything more to say. He wants so, so badly to believe you, but his heart, his mind, and Sukuna’s voice in the back of his head are all whispering that you’re lying. When you reach him, your hands go up to his face, cradle it like it’s a precious porcelain. You trace the scar on his forehead, stroke the one on his lip with your thumb, and then you press your lips against it with great care.

And he falls apart.

Your arms are around him as he lets himself fall to the ground, and you let him bury his head in the crook of your neck as he sobs, let him hold on to you like a drowning man to a lifeline. You stroke the back of his head gently. The motion is soothing. Soft. Loving.

“I’m a monster,” he chokes, and tears fill your eyes.

“You’re not,” you promise, voice breaking. “You’re not. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

He gasps like he’s breathing for the first time in days, and you keep him there, in your arms. He’s not okay yet — won’t be for a long time. But he’s alive. He’s breathing. He’s moving forward, one small step at a time.

You will be here to support him until he can stand on his own again.

No matter how long it takes.

MEGUMI

Megumi has always been the quiet type. He keeps his feelings close to his chest, lets people in on his thoughts only in spare, carefully chosen sentences. He turns away if emotions overwhelm in, deals with the worst of it privately, would never let anything spill out if he could help him. Emotions are his problems, and he cannot bear the thought of them hurting someone other than him.

Still, you’ve always been able to read him. The softness in his eyes when he looks at Yuuji and Nobara, the smile he doesn’t quite allow to make its way to his lips when Gojo decides to spoil him, the way he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest so he can hide his face in your neck, even if you can spot his ears turning red. The way the corner of his lips turn down, too, when his mind drifts towards Tsumiki, the twitch in his jaw when someone brings up his father, the clench of his fists when he feels hopeless.

You can read him like a book.

He is even quieter when he comes back from Shibuya, and his emotions are expressed even more minutely, blink and you’ll miss it.

You can only watch from the audience in one of the numerous meetings that follow his return. Him and a number of other sorcerers testify, and you have to hear him recounting the same details over and over. You’re here to see, helpless, how he lowers his gaze when several sorcerers recommend Yuuji’s execution, and how his eyes dull when his sentencing is pronounced.

But he never comes to you. At first, you assume he can’t — there are a number of physicals for him to clear. You reason that he must be exhausted, must want his space for now, and resolve to give it to him. It’s on the day of the last council, when he averts his eyes to avoid meeting yours, that you realize what was happening.

He’s been avoiding you.

It’s a half-hearted attempt, one that comes to an end when you knock against the open door to his room. He doesn’t look up at you when he answers.

“Come in.”

His room is almost bare, but you know he keeps pictures from the two of you in his drawers.

You sit on the bed next to him, let your knee brush against his. He doesn’t move away.

“I haven’t seen you since you came back,” you say. You know better than to broach the subject directly, wouldn’t want to spook him.

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. I just came to check in on you.”

He’s quiet for longer than he should be.

“…I have to go back out there. I have to talk to Itadori.”

You read between the lines. You know that he would give you more than that if he felt he could, understand that he is trying to make this as painless for you as he can.

You reach for his hands and squeeze it.

“Okay.”

There’s a pause.

“…you sure?”

You know that’s not the question he’s asking. You know he wants you to feel able to yell at him, protest, scream until there’s nothing left of the two of you, all so that you will feel better, even if he leaves unloved and a little more shattered than he was when he arrived.

“I’m sure.”

The sigh of relief he lets out sounds more like a sob. Next thing you know, he’s letting his head drop onto your shoulder, black hair tickling your neck.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m sorry. Can I— Can I just stay like this a little longer? Please?”

You keep yourself still, reach up to cup his cheek, stroke it softly.

“As long as you need.”

He moves his head so he can press a kiss to your cheek, lets his lips linger there longer than he needs to. When he turns around, you see he’s turned crimson.

The outside world might have turned into hell, but this room hasn’t yet.

In here, the two of you can hope that simpler, happier times will come again some day.

MAKI

Maki supposes that there are worse ways to wake up than with her head in your lap. By the time she comes to, Reverse Cursed Technique has done its job — mostly. If she could muster it, she would be glad that she wasn’t awake to feel it processing. It’s always felt foreign to her, and she hates feeling it on her body.

What she hates more, though, is the tingling of the burns on her face and body.

“Isn’t there anything to be done about that?” you’re asking Shoko when her eyes flutter open. You’re mindlessly running your fingers over the scarred skin, and it feels fresh and soothing.

“I’m sorry,” Shoko says, sounding exhausted but always taking the time to answer students’ concerns. “RCT can’t fix burns. Non-sorcerers have done some progress in that domain, I think. Maybe she’ll want to look into it.”

“I hope she won’t care,” you mumble.

“Why,” Maki asks, and you look down at her in shock, “is it that bad?”

She pushes herself up, looking around for her glasses, but stops when she realizes both you and Shoko are staring at her, mouth gaping.

“You’re something else,” Shoko finally comments, a tired grin forming on her lips. “Thought you’d be asleep for at least another day. Well, if you need anything, I’ll be in the next room, alright?”

She leaves with a wave of her hand, some of the weight of the past week taken off her shoulders, now that she’s done her work.

When Maki turns to look back at you, you already have her glasses in your hand. You’re careful when you pass the branches over her ears to put them on her, and she lets you do it, studying your expression. Your eyes are red from crying, and you look tired, too, but at least she cannot see any injuries on you.

“So?” she raises an eyebrow at you, and her skin stretches uncomfortably. “Do I really look that terrible?”

You shake your head and smile at her, reaching up to cup her cheek.

“You’re as stunning as always. I’d just hate it if you thought otherwise.”

She leans into your touch, closing her eyes. Her whole body aches. She cannot pinpoint any real physical pain, but there is an overall soreness  that she wants to stretch out. She would, if she could bear the thought of losing your touch, if only for a second.

“What about my hair?” she asks, trying to add a playful inflexion to her tone. “Don’t tell me you let them do whatever they wanted with it.”

You shake your head, mirroring her expression.

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” you say with a fake eyeroll. “I’ll have you know it looks super stylish.”

She nods, then turns her head to kiss the inside of your palm. She likes the way it flusters you, how you bite your lip and glance away to hide it from her.

“Do you— do you want to hear about what else has happened?”

Her smile dims, and she shakes her head.

“Can I get a minute of this first?” Her voice comes out hoarser than she would like. “Y-you can tell me afterwards. I just— I just need a minute.”

“Of course,” you reply, softly.

When you open your arms, she doesn’t hesitate a second to plunge in. She rests her cheek against your chest, and you wrap her in a tight hug that she returns without missing a beat. You’re warm and soft, as you always are.

She’ll get back to fighting, to throwing her whole body in the line of fire soon enough, that is a promise. She’ll mourn the dead, she’ll shed tears.

But first, she gets a minute of respite, in the arms of the only person that can give it to her.

INUMAKI

You rush through the emergency room, unbridled fear in your veins. The place is a morgue. There are more dead than living in here, and you’d be horrified if your mind wasn’t focused on one person and one person only — one that you cannot find. Cursed energy is no use right now, not with the place being such a mess.

“Ieiri!” you finally call when you see her passing by, pale as a corpse, not examining a body for more than handful of seconds before moving on to the next. “Where— Where is Toge?”

She looks straight through you. The dark circles under her eyes are even deeper than usual.

“Alive. That way.”

She point vaguely in a direction and then she’s gone, but it’s all you need. You find yourself running, unceremoniously opening and closing doors in your desperate search for him. When you find him, you could almost cry in relief.

“Toge,” you call, and you’re afraid your legs will give in underneath you.

He looks at you with wide eyes — eyes that you love so much, because they always say everything his lips can’t. Despite everything that’s happened tonight, they’re full of life, and that is the sight you’d been hoping for the most.

It’s only after looking inside that you realize what’s happened to his arm.

You walk over to him, sit on the chair next to his bed. He holds his hand out for you to take, and when you do, he squeezes it between his fingers, three times. His own, silent way of saying ‘I love you’. You lean forward, resting your elbows on the bed and hanging your head low.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you whisper. “I was so scared.”

You feel his lips on the top of your head, and you cannot help but smile. It feels selfish, smiling in such circumstances, when so many people have lost their lives and their loved ones. But you’re reunited with him, and it is the only reaction that feels appropriate. You look up at him. Without his usual clothes, the seal on his mouth is on full display.

“Do you want a scarf?” you ask, gesturing at your bag. You always carry one, as well as cough syrup, just in case.

Fondness flashes in his eyes, but he shakes his head. Reluctantly, he lets go of your hand to tap on his phone. The movements are clumsy, and a knot forms in your throat, watching him do it, but you can’t think of anything to do to help him.

‘No need,’ the phone reads when he turns it back towards you. And then, after a line break ‘Sukuna attacked.’

You’d hear about that. You… had just hoped it wasn’t true.

“So, Itadori…?”

“Bonito flakes,” he answers, shaking his head. Silence falls on the room.

You usually like silence with him. It feels comfortable, like an old friend you’re happy to welcome. Tonight, though, you feel the need to blurt out “I’m so happy you’re okay.”

His lips turn downward, and he gestures at his arm dejectedly, but you shake your head, and you stand up so you can sit on the bed, by his legs. You grab his hand in both of yours.

“I would take anything as long as it means you’re back here with me. I know— I know it’s selfish, but I just— You’re everything.”

Toge presses his forehead against yours when you start crying. Gently, he frees his hand so he can wipe the tears running down your cheeks. He doesn’t get to express his emotions freely, so you do it for the two of you, that’s how it’s always been between you. That doesn’t stop him from tilting your chin so he can press his lips against yours. The kiss is soft and gentle.

“I love you,” you say for the both of you.

He wishes he could tell you that he hasn’t felt like he’d truly made it back from Shibuya until he saw you walking through the door.

When he kisses you again, he thinks you’re aware of it.

YUTA

“They agreed to entrust me with Itadori’s execution,” Yuta tells you when he finds you, anxiously waiting for him to come out of his meeting with the higher-ups. “I had to take a binding vow, but that won’t be a problem.”

He says it so casually, and you can’t help but sigh. Immediately, his eyes fill with worry.

“Is something wrong?”

You can feel his eyes scanning you, looking for an injury, and that brings a faint smile out of you. As if anything could hurt you here, in one of the last jujutsu strong place in Japan.

“I just wish you wouldn’t have to do that,” you admit with a shrug. “I wish there was another solution.” I wish you didn’t think the weight of the world is yours to take now that Gojo isn’t here to bear it.

“Oh!” He lights up, and you hate that he feels relief, because to him, it is inconsequential as long as it’s happening to him. “That’s okay. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Well, someone has to, since he won’t do it himself. You reach for his hand, fiddling with his fingers, and you can’t help but smile when you feel him freeze. You can’t believe he still reacts to your touch that way, no matter how many times you do it.

“Breathe,” you say, glancing up at him.

He flushes when he realizes he was, indeed, holding his breath.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. He doesn’t have to apologize, but he always does.

“Then I’ll go and keep an eye on Toge and Maki,” you decide. “I heard Maki’s recovering well, but I’ll see if there’s anything more they need. Maybe I’ll help Toge get back to his family.”

Yuta hesitates.

“You don’t— You don’t have to do that for me, you know?”

Ha. Guilty as charged. You’re just trying to take some of the weight off his shoulders so he won’t have to carry it all alone. You wrap your arms around his neck, smile when he turns even redder. He doesn’t move away from you though, and, after hesitating, he even closes his hands on your waist. The touch is feather-light, and you think he’d take them off if you breathed a little too hard. But it’s there, and he’s come a long way, truly.

“I know. I just want to.”

He’s crimson, but his eyes still soften at your words. With a sigh, he leans his forehead against yours.

“What have I done to get this lucky?” he marvels, and he sounds so loving you think you might just melt in your spot.

“You deserve the world,” you answer truthfully.

He lets out an embarrassed laugh that you interrupt with a kiss. His lips are soft and cautious against yours, and he is nothing but tender. You know he’s doing his best to restrain himself, both because you’re in a public space where someone could walk by and because it takes a lot more to get him out of his shell.

“Wh-what was that for?” he asks when you pull away, a pout in his voice.

“For luck,” you hum in reply. “You better come back to me.”

His fingers tighten on your waist. He doesn’t want to let go. If he could shut the whole world out and live only in your arms, he thinks he would do it in a heartbeat. But there are people out there who need saving, and you know even you can’t stop him from going to help them.

“I’ll keep your friends safe until then, okay?”

No matter what you tell him, he still doesn’t think he’s done anything to deserve you. That means he should let go of you, be on his way and wish you well on yours. Instead, in an impulsive move, he wraps his arms tighter around your waist to pull you flush against his chest in a tight hug.

You laugh in surprise and hug him back, and in that moment, he is absolutely certain that there is nothing that could stop him from coming back to you.

GOJO

“Guess who’s back!” Satoru calls when he walks into your home as if nothing’s happened, as if you haven’t spent hours on the phone with various sorcerers, trying to understand what on earth was happening and if he was even still alive.

You turn to look at him with daggers in your eyes, and you want to scream, but you don’t find the words when you take in the sight of him. There’s blood on his face that he hasn’t bothered to wipe off, his clothes are torn, the blindfold he’s holding in his hand is in an even sorrier state, and despite the smile on his face, you don’t think there is a muscle to his body that isn’t in a state a tension.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

He shrugs, walks across the room to grab a towel that he vigorously rubs against his face.

“I’m always okay.”

The sentence sounds empty, and you’re about to go up to him when he drops the towel to move towards the bathroom with a groan.

“It’s not coming off,” he says before splashing his face with water.

You follow him and watch as he repeatedly rinses his face. The blood has long come off, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with it. He pours generous amounts of soap on his hands, but there is nothing more to take off there. You wait a few seconds more before joining him. You still his hand with a pressure of his wrist, clean off the remaining soap, and cut off the water. He lets you do it, just as he lets you guide him back to the bed to sit down.

“What happened?” you urge him, keeping his hands in yours. He feels so far away, even if he’s sitting inches from you, and you’re desperate to bring him back to you.

Long seconds go by before he answers you.

“I made a mistake,” he finally says, words pulled out like teeth. “That’s what happened.”

You would tell him that everyone makes mistakes, but you know what’s prompting this. He isn’t everyone. He doesn’t make mistakes. He is Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the one in charge of preserving the balance of the world after he’s irremediably altered it simply from being born.

Your hands come up to his face, and you trace his jaw with careful fingers. He closes his eyes. Lets you ground him. He can’t think of anything else he needs more right now.

“You’ve done so much,” you whisper. “I’ve been talking to Shoko — she says that without you, human losses would be much worse.”

He lets out a humorless chuckle.

“That is always true.”

Coming from someone else, it would sound like bragging, but you know that Satoru is only stating a fact. He always saves the day, which makes this so, so much worse. You climb on the bed behind him, start massaging his shoulders. Despite himself, he can’t help but relax into your touch. He doesn’t feel like he deserves that, deserves the comfort you’re bringing to him, and yet, as always, he’s powerless against you.

“But wasn’t the point always that your students would be able to take over?” you ask, softly. “And they did. They saved you. Sounds to me like you did well, Satoru.”

Did he? Sure doesn’t feel like it.

“Hm, I guess Yuji and Megumi did real well tonight,” he admits, and he lets himself lean back into your arms fully. “Just wish… Just wish it hadn’t turned out like that.”

You press a kiss to his temple, and he sighs. He doesn’t think he will be okay again tonight. Probably not tomorrow, either — maybe not before a long time.

“Do you want me to run you a bath?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “That’d be nice.”

His eyes follow as you walk back into the bathroom.

“You’ll join me?”

A smile flashes on your face.

“Sure.”

He won’t be okay any time soon, but with you by his side, he thinks he can at least try to get there again someday.

thank you for reading! as a note, gojo's piece is written under the hypothesis that he was unsealed but unsealed before the end of the night. I hope you enjoyed these pieces, please consider reblogging and/or letting me know your thoughts in a comment, interactions are the best way of supporting me and of keeping me writing ^-^

more jujutsu kaisen x reader here (primarily gojo x reader)

[sahkuna]

this is a follow up to this drabble i wrote abt fucking around with yuuji's older brother sukuna :3 but fret not, this can be read as a stand-alone

word count: 1.5k+

content warnings: 18+ minors dni, afab+fem! reader, childhood "friends" with benefits, best friend's brother trope, modern au, slight exhibitionism on the behalf of u and sukuna :3

You would rather die than step out into Sukuna's living room where his younger brother, Itadori Yuuji, sits blissfully unaware of your presence.

Half of you does not have the heart to walk out there and potentially expose the fact that ‘Hey, I’m that ‘random girl' that Sukuna has been canoodling with! Sorry about that, by the way!’ You couldn’t imagine his reaction and didn’t want to find out anytime soon, so you’re currently hiding out in Sukuna’s bedroom— praying and hoping that Yuuji would leave before you do.

After hearing the younger Itadori brother’s unrelenting fists pounding at Sukuna’s front door, you were absolutely mortified at the timing of it all. From his arrival to how Sukuna was balls deep inside your pussy— and showed little to no concern at the fact that Yuuji might hear the… commotion… on the other side— it all went from good to bad real fast.

It didn’t take long for Sukuna to grow irritated with the sounds of Yuuji’s incessant whining for him to open the door and not invite him over when he’s got ‘some girl’ there, before he finally pulled out of you, threw on some clothes and yanked the door open. Almost ripping it off its hinges.

Pushing back the thoughts of the sex (and how incredible it was), you focus on the main task at hand.

You need to leave. Now.

Squatted down on the floor, you search for your black lace bralette that Sukuna tossed into a corner hours before his little brother’s abrupt arrival. “Can’t believe this…” you mutter under your breath.

From behind you, you swear you hear a faint snicker coming from the man who got you in this predicament in the first place. He watches you with careful eyes as you tip-toe around his room with nothing but your jeans and socks on, trying not to alert your best friend in the next room over of your presence. “Relax, the brat can’t even hear you,” he says.

“You don’t know that,” you all but hiss, throwing a threatening glare (one that he doesn’t flinch under) Sukuna’s way. “He could be waiting there, ready to accost me the moment I walk out!”

Honestly, you wouldn’t blame Yuuji if he did choose to confront you and verbally rip you to shreds. For Christ’s sake, you were fucking his brother behind his back! Quite literally.

But despite the circumstances of you starting a “friends with benefits” type of relationship with Sukuna and how terrible it made you feel to secretly withhold something so significant from your best friend, you’d be lying if you said you wanted to stop.

Judging how Sukuna’s gaze trails up the expanse of your belly and lifts higher to linger briefly on the swell of your breasts, it’s safe to say he thinks the same.

 You toss a protective arm over your exposed chest to preserve some of your dignity despite the circumstances.

“Can you just—” you flounder for words, trying to find the best words to use next and finally settle on something. “Distract him? Talk to him so that when I leave, he doesn’t have time to digest that it’s me.”

There’s an amused glint in his eye, he’s far too entertained at your frail attempts to at least salvage this shitty situation. Your eyes leave him in search of your bra once more and breathe a quiet sigh of relief once you do spot it behind his dresser. “Just walk out the door. Who cares.” 

Wasting no time you throw on the undergarment, clasping it shut before your attention is drawn back to Sukuna. Your face morphs into pure astonishment at how nonchalant he is about this… and reckless. “Are you crazy?!” you whisper-yell for the second time that day.

The corners of his lips curl up, forming a wicked grin. “It’ll be fine. You should go out as you are right now.” He gestures at your half-dressed figure with an uncaring hand. “I’m sure he’ll like it.”

Speaking of…

“Give me one of your sweaters. Preferably one that has a hood.”

Sukuna’s eyes narrow, and his tone lowers a bit. “Leave with what you came with. Don’t know why you’re so threatened over the fact that he’ll see you.”

“No! Yuuji’s seen me one too many times in this shirt,” you reference the tee that is scribbled with your university’s name on its front, “so he’ll know it’s me if he were to turn his head.”

Sukuna clicks his tongue with annoyance and though it’s brief, you catch an expression that you can only chalk up to be one of disappointment flicker across his face before he schools it back into indifference. “Fine.”

Standing abruptly, Sukuna leaves his spot on his bed to head toward the closet. He digs around for a few seconds before he pulls out a black sweater and flings it at your face, effectively clouding your vision until you peel it off. “Hurry up then.” Is all you hear before he leaves the room to go see Yuuji once again.

Okay. That went… pretty well? Excluding the tough time Sukuna gave you before and after.

You let out another involuntary moan when Sukuna drives his hips into you when another round of knocks echoes throughout his apartment. You can feel your cunt squeeze around his cock, feeling the intense heat from the predicament you both were in right now.

“You’re real perverted, huh?” Sukuna’s hand finds the back of your neck. He squeezes. “Don’t tell me you’re getting turned on by this?”

Another muffled exclamation escapes you as you try to refute it, but Sukuna laughs at your attempt.

Yuuji might hear. Yuuji might hear. Yuuji might hear. That was all you could think of.

“Cute.” Is all Sukuna says before he’s back to thrusting his hips against yours. Forcing you to take it as you lay in a blissful, helpless state on his bed, rocking the bed roughly with every movement he made.

In and out, over and over and over and—

You smack your palms against your cheeks. Stop! Stop. Thinking. About it! You remind yourself.

You’re sure you’ve spent too much time here anyway, so you throw on Sukuna’s sweater hurriedly. As you hype yourself up to exit, you tuck away any hair that may show into the hoodie.

Thankfully, it seems like Yuuji has delved into chattering boisterously away about God knows what to Sukuna, while his older brother just sits there only offering a few grunts and affirmatory noises to show that he was listening. Kinda… Not really.

Stepping out from the bedroom, you close the door in a manner that would have Sukuna chiding you to ‘hurry the fuck up’. Once that’s done, you very quietly pad down the hallway and make a beeline straight towards your shoes. You thank your lucky stars you chose ones that were easy to slip on.

Great. Everything is going smoothly so far.

Yuuji’s still talking away and unaware of your company and you’re all dressed, ready to head back out to where the bustling street of Tokyo awaits you.

But it gets shot down too fast. Before you can even grasp your hand around the doorknob, you hear Sukuna speak up from behind you.

“Leaving so soon?”

That fucking asshole.

No way in hell did he just draw attention to you right as you were about to step out the door.

Biting your cheek you keep your back facing them, forehead pressed into the door’s frame as you grip its doorknob to refrain from screaming. “Mhm!”

Sukuna’s laughter is low and taunting. You can tell that he’s basking in this moment, being able to mock both you and his little brother at the same time in a manner that screams I know something that you don’t know.  “You know, she went to the same school as you, kid.” He’s now talking to Yuuji, prompting him to say something to you and he bites.

“It’s uh… nice to meet you?” you hear Yuuji say.

God, you can even picture that dumb confused yet polite expression he makes when he’s caught in an awkward situation.

“Mhm!” you repeat, because what the fuck else is there to say?

There’s a long beat of silence, the brothers don’t say anything and neither do you. You wouldn’t dare.

It isn’t until Itadori’s voice from the couch floats over to you. His tone is riddled with confusion and a bit of recognition. “Hold on, I think I—”

“I’m gonna see her off, don’t move.” Sukuna commands, successfully interrupting his train of thought. Swooping into the rescue, you hear him come up to you. He toes on his shoes and places his palm on top of yours so that he can twist the knob open. His hand dwarfs the size of your own.

Woof.

You’re ushered outside, and it’s like that all the way to the elevator with Sukuna’s hand still seizing your hand. It’s only when you slap your hand against the button calling for the elevator that he lets go. You don’t bother exchanging any parting words for him, seeing that you’re too peeved to do so anyway. Thus, Sukuna speaks up before the lift dings signifying its arrival.

“Same time next week?”

“Shut. Up!”

[honeybeefae]

You're Mine (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Summary// After leaving Eris behind to fulfill your parents' desire for marriage, knowing the two of you could never be, you did your best to move on. It had been five years, and you were finally starting to settle into your life with your husband when a late-night visitor brought back feelings you thought you had long since buried. 

(This idea has burrowed its way into my head and won’t leave anytime soon, so I’m dragging you all into this with me. I hope you like it <3 It's been awhile since I've wrote anything so if you have any critiques or opinions, please let me know!)

WARNINGS: Smut, Fertility Issues, Verbal Abuse (Spouse), Physical Abuse (Spouse) (A slap but nothing more), Possessive!Eris, Jealous!Eris, Cheating, Breeding Kink, Spanking

Five Years Ago

“Mother, please!” You beg, tears streaking down your hot cheeks as she gives you a look full of pity. It was a useless cause to try to convince your father against this arrangement, but your mother… she used to be a dreamer like you. She once thought of running away with a prince, of living happily ever after, so why wouldn’t she give you the same chance?

“Darling, please, collect yourself.” She urges, grabbing your hands and pulling you towards her. “Pierre will be here any moment with his family. They cannot see you like this.”

“They don’t have to! You could sneak me out the back, let me run away with-” You begin only to flinch when she grabs your face roughly, her eyes shining with a strange mixture of anger and agony. 

“With you, Y/N? With Eris?” She hisses, eyebrows furrowing together. “He is the heir to the Court. He will never choose you. He cannot. He will go with whichever maiden secures more political power, and that is not you.”

Your lower lip trembles as her words cut through you like hot steel. They settle in your soul, trying to burn out any hope you might have, and yet you persist. 

“No, Mother, you don’t understand. I love him. He loves me. We’ve been courting for months, dancing together and strolling through the gardens. Hells, he gave me this!” You gesture to the ruby necklace resting above your collarbone, wrapped in a gold band that resembles a fox’s tail. “Everyone has seen us together. His family, my family, does that mean nothing?”

She stares at you for a moment, her mouth turning downwards as her fury fades into sorrow. You swallow, trying to get the lump in your throat to disappear as the silence stretches on, but it refuses. 

“My darling girl,” She coos, her hands now cupping your cheeks. “One’s first love is something special, an experience worth remembering, but it is one that is never meant to last. He has his duties, as do you. It was never meant to be.”

The realization of the situation hits you in waves of denial, anger, and agony. It makes your head swim, and your stomach lurch as you try desperately to find anything to keep you afloat. 

“What if he does choose me, though? What if his parents see me as he does? Someone who makes him smile and laugh, who treats him well. If you could just let me speak with him one more time, keep Pierre and his father busy, I only need an hour.” You try to bargain with her, placing your hands over her own. She goes to respond, your hope hanging by a thread, only for your father’s voice to rise above the two of you.

“He has moved on, Y/N.” He sighs, clearly exasperated by your antics. “Beron has told us about Eris’s betrothed. It’s been arranged since birth. It is time for you to do the same.”

“But if he knew, why would he fall in love with me? I know what I saw, I know what I felt.” You press, wrapping your arms around yourself as your father’s jaw clenches. “He wouldn’t do that to me.”

“You don’t think he would?” His scowl deepens as he glances at your mother over your shoulder before fishing for something in his coat pocket, ignoring his wife as she begins to protest. “Read this.”

“What is it?” You ask.

“Just read it.” He pushes the parchment into your hand, rolling his eyes.

Your fingers tremble as you glance at the letter, noticing Eris’s penmanship immediately. The words seem to blur together towards the end, but you realize it isn’t due to his writing but your tears. One of them splashes on the paper, staining it immediately as his voice echoes in your mind.

I regret to inform you of the ending of our courtship, effective immediately. Please know this is through not fault of your own. You were a wonderful experience. I should not have led you on, but I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Even though I am the least deserving of it. 

Yours,

Eris Vanserra

A loud sound echoed off the walls, and it wasn’t until your knees hit the floor that you realized it had come from you. You felt the world collapsing in, your dreams fading with each heartbeat as your worst fear came true. Your parents watched, one with sympathy and one with indifference, as you came to grips with reality. 

The silence after was choking you as the paper lay taunting you, his signature ingrained in your brain as a loud knock was heard from the front. Soft hands gingerly picked you up as your father’s footsteps led to the door, his voice booming as he greeted Pierre.

“Come now, Y/N,” She shushes you, brushing your tears away with a mother’s softness. “I know it hurts, but in time, it will fade, and you will find happiness with Pierre and your future family.”

“I cannot imagine feeling anything other than this, Mama.” You murmur, numbness starting to spread throughout your body as she smiles sadly and kisses your forehead.

“You will, sweet girl.” She assures you, pinching your cheeks to bring some color back as Pierre draws closer. 

“How do you know?” Your gaze raises to meet hers, searching.

She chuckles, though you know it is without humor, watching as she seems to drift far away for a moment before the sounds of your father's throat clearing behind you brings her back. 

Her arms pull you into a tight hug as she whispers into your ear, “Because I did.”

Present Day

From your wedding day to now, you have been desperately searching for the happiness your mom said would come. You threw everything into your relationship, forcing Eris into the darkest crevices of your heart so that you could move on. Pierre wasn’t an awful man. He was kind and generous, always concerned about your feelings and ensuring you were cared for. 

He knew about your past with Eris and never pushed you but soothed you like a balm to your soul. Your love for Pierre was different, but it was there; you just needed something more. However, you knew better than to dream of it. You could be happy with him, will be happy with him. 

Eris had made it very clear that he did not intend to return for you. He hadn’t even had the courage to come to your wedding nor send you any well wishes. You had seen him since, of course, but he always did his best to avoid you. If you did happen to catch his gaze during a dinner or ball, his eyes were always full of anger. 

It was in your best interest to forget all about him. 

You were torn from your thoughts as the front door opened, your husband poking his head around to look for you. A soft smile pulls at your lips effortlessly, rising up to greet him, only to stall when you see how angry he is. 

“Pierre, what is it?” You ask, forehead creasing as he all but slams a letter he had been holding onto the dining table.

“The new high lord,” He scowls, jaw clenching. “He is asking myself and the other merchants to travel across Prythian to secure new deals or else forfeit our titles.”

New high lord?

“Beron is dead?” You whisper, grasping the edge of the table. “How did he…who did…was it…?”

“Eris, yes, the treasonous snake,” Pierre grunts, raising his eyes to you. “It apparently happened overnight, and he is already throwing everything out. I knew he was a bastard, but to-”

“He is not a bastard,” You say before you can catch yourself, your mind screaming at you for rushing to his defense. You owe him nothing—no loyalty, no love, nothing. So why did you speak?

The air in the room seemed to change as he cocks his head, his eyes darkening dangerously. You feel the hairs on your neck raise as you step back, trying to put distance between you. However, Pierre doesn’t hesitate to follow you as the letter is now crumpled in his fist.

“I knew it.” He snaps, nostrils flaring as he grabs your arm and yanks you to him. You let out a small yelp, trying to push against him, but he doesn’t yield. “I’ve given you everything you could ever want. I’ve built you this home, this life when I could’ve treated you like filth.”

“Pierre, please, let go,” Your voice is a whimper as his grasp tightens. “You’re hurting me.”

“Me? Hurting you?” His laugh echoes off the walls, one of his hands running hastily through his hair. “Don’t act like you don’t deserve it. I’ve put up with this teenage moping for five fucking years. I’ve played the part of the gentleman, the family man, and you still can’t get over him. Pathetic doesn’t even begin to cover what you are.”

Tears fall down your face as you sob, finally gaining the strength to rip your arm away as he turns and punches a hole into the wall beside him. You cannot stop yourself from trembling as his shoulders shake with fury, his breath coming in short pants.

“Do you know what they all tell me? Our friends and family?” Pierre asks, closing his eyes. “They tell me how sorry they are for me. How much they pity me. They’ve even suggested taking a whore on the side, so at least that way I could secure an heir.”

The last sentence strikes deep, one of your hands resting on your lower stomach as he gives you a mocking laugh. You had been trying to have a child for a while now. Under the care of a midwife, you had been drinking the teas, reducing your stress, and month after month, you failed. Pierre had been there for you throughout it, promising you that it was not your fault, and for him now to throw it back in your face…it made you sick. 

“Y-you told me that it was okay, that these things take time. Going into this marriage, you knew what I had been through and who my former lover was, and you said it was fine.” You hate how your voice trembles as you keep your eyes on the floor. “I thought you understood me, that you could see I was finally starting to heal, but was it all a lie? Have I been sleeping next to someone who I do not know?”

He watches you momentarily, taking in how meek you look and the tears that now stain your face. Footsteps fill the silence and stop once you see his feet, a soft hand coming to cup your chin and force you to look up.

Pierre was there in body but not in mind. The eyes that once held so much comfort were now empty, the smile now a scowl, and his touch burning rather than soothing. He turned your face from side to side, mesmerizing your beauty before smirking.

“I guess that’s two men who’ve used you now, huh?”

You don’t register the slap you gave him until you see his pupils dilate, your eyes widening in fear as your palm begins to burn from the contact. He snarls at you, and before you can apologize or scream, you aren’t sure which one, he backhands you and sends you spiraling to the floor. 

“I’ll be back in the morning, don’t wait up.” He calls over his shoulder, straightening his jacket before he walks out the door without even a glance at your crumpled body.

It takes longer than you’d like to admit to collect yourself off the floor, your face red-hot even though you know you have already healed. He hit you. He yelled at you, belittled you, and then slapped you as if it were nothing. A wolf in sheep's clothing. 

Your hands dig into the wood of the table as you pull yourself up, hating how weak you feel as you cry. This wouldn't have happened if you had kept your mouth shut. Why did you even say anything? After all this time, why did you feel you still needed to speak up for the man who deserted you?

“Fuck!” You scream as your sadness turns to rage, grabbing a nearby vase and hurling it at the wall. It instantly shatters and clatters to the floor, flower petals scattering everywhere with the glass shards. 

It doesn’t make you feel better. So you throw another vase and another, and then a portrait until the room looks like a tornado ripped through it. But nothing is working to fill the hole in your chest that was just violently ripped open once again. 

A clock nearby chimes out twelve times, and you blink as you realize how much time has passed. Your adrenaline leaves your body quickly as exhaustion takes place, and your eyes glare at the front door one last time before you start heading up the stairs.

However, as your foot hits the first step, a loud knocking startles you. At first, you think it’s Pierre, drunk and probably without a key, but then you hear a voice. A voice that has haunted your dreams for five years.

“Y/N? Y/N, open the door. I know you are in there.” 

It can’t be…

You tiptoe to the door, your heart racing as you stare down at the knob. What should you do? Why was he here? What did he want? Should you even let him in? The consequences could be deadly, especially after what he had done just last night to his own father, but your heart was winning over your head right now.

“Please, my love, let me in.”

Your hand grasps the knob and turns it before you can stop yourself, the door opening to reveal Eris.

He looks the same, damn him. His red hair was tied back in a half-up style, the rest falling over his slender shoulders covered in a thick, dark green coat. Eris’s eyes, the color of molten amber, met yours with a ferocity that made your breath catch. Your stomach fills with butterflies as the night air caresses your skin, whispering long-forgotten memories that send your heart fluttering. 

“Eris…” you whisper, your voice tight with emotion. Whatever spell had taken over the two of you broke as you said his name. His hands came up to grasp your face as he pulled you in and kissed you, lips molding to yours as if they had never told you goodbye. 

And, cauldron help you, you kiss him back just as fiercely. You had thought about seeing him again more often than you care to admit, about how you would scream at him for what he did to you or prove to him you were better off without him. But once again, your heart craves what your mind desperately tries to discard.

It’s only when your back hits the wall of the foyer that you pull away, gasping for air as you shove him back. He blinks, dumbfounded, and goes for you again, but you shake your head and slap his hands away, gaze hot as years of resentment flood your veins.

“How dare you come into my home and kiss me like that after all you did.” You seethe, teeth clenching as he regards you like a caged predator. “You can’t just show up and do that! You can’t come in here and ruin my marriage, my life like you have any ownership of me.”

“I don’t think I was the one to ruin your marriage, little fox.” Eris replies smoothly, standing straight and giving a pointed look behind you to the mess of a dining room. 

“Don’t call me that.” You snarl, wrapping your arms around your body for comfort. “You need to leave. Now.”

“I won’t,” He states, looking you over. “I’ve defeated my father. I’m rebuilding the court and our reputation, gutting it from the inside out. I’m here to collect the last thing I need.”

Your brain goes fuzzy as he stretches out his hand, waiting for you to fall into his arms as if the past were not there. As if his letter and necklace weren’t still tucked away in a drawer by your bed. No matter how badly you missed and yearned for him, you couldn’t forgive him that easily.

“You led me on for years,” You say softly, your voice numb as you take another step back. “You courted me as if you cared. You made me believe we were real, that we would be together forever. Do you think I could just forgive and forget that after you left me with only a letter for an explanation?”

“I thought you were smarter than that.” Eris sighs and clenches his jaw, running a hand down his face as he closes the front door. 

“Excuse me? Get the-” 

“I didn’t write that letter, Y/N.” He interrupts you, coming to stand in front of you in just two short steps. “My father forced me. And yours, for that matter. I would never let you go. It was only under threat of your own harm that I chose to obey, but I swore to myself that as soon as I took control, I would come find you.”

The angry retort you had building dies in your throat, your head tilting to the side as if you hadn’t heard him correctly. 

“You…you didn’t mean what you wrote?” Your voice has a hint of hope, like the last spark of a fire, but you can’t help it. If he was telling the truth, and you still weren’t entirely convinced he was, it meant he had been waiting for you all these years. 

He grabs your face again, but it’s soft and caring this time, his thumb brushing across your cheek and collecting a tear you didn’t know had escaped. You look into his eyes, finding nothing but honesty, which only worsens it. 

“It hurt that you think I would treat you that way, that I could just throw everything we had away…” Eris whispers, tilting your chin up so you can’t look away. “I’m not your husband. I take care of what is mine. Forever. ”

The mention of him makes you wince and somewhat come back to your senses, glancing towards the clock and realizing he could be back at any moment. If he caught you with Eris, there would be no telling what he would do. Eris could take care of himself; he was a High Lord now after all, but you were vulnerable.

“Pierre…he could be home any minute. Eris, you can’t be here. You need to leave.” You frown, trying to move past him, only to gasp when his hand moves down to your neck and stills you. The hold isn’t tight, but you freeze, wide eyes looking up at him in worry. “Eris, if he finds you here with me-”

“Did you not hear what I said, little fox?” He asks mockingly, bowing his head so his lips can brush against your ear. “I take care of what is mine. And you are mine.”

Eris accentuates his words with a roll of his hips, his half-hard cock pressing against your lower half teasingly. You don’t stop the whimper that sneaks past your lips or the way your neck turns so he can mouth over your pulse point. 

“I’ve waited years for this moment, to see you again and take you home. I’ve watched as that pathetic excuse for a man dotes on you and brags about how pretty you sound in bed.” He growls, grabbing your hips and lifting you up effortlessly as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. “The only thing that kept me sane was knowing you weren’t moaning from him like you did for me, that he can’t fill you up like your needy little pussy begs for.” 

“Please…” You whine, though you aren’t entirely sure what you are asking for. His touch was like fire against your cool skin, setting you aflame in a way you hadn’t felt in years. 

One of his hands snakes between the two of you and quickly finds your panties, his lips curling back as he feels the heat of your cunt. You swear you hear him purr as he begins to furiously bite and suck on your neck and collarbone, marking you. 

“Tell me what you need.” Eris commands, pulling back to look into your eyes.

Words fail you momentarily as you stare at each other, your heart threatening to explode as he refuses to drop his gaze. There were so many consequences to this decision, no matter what you choose, and so many things that need to be said before you can logically proceed.

But when the pad of his thumb presses against your clit and circles it slowly, the corner of his mouth tilting up to smirk, you know logic will not win tonight. 

“You, Eris,” You moan, trying to press further onto his hand for more friction. “You’re all I’ve ever needed.”

You don’t have time to scream as he squeezes you tightly and carries you up the stairs, your body bouncing so that your lower half hits his cock with each step. He groans and looks around momentarily before kicking open your bedroom door. He then throws you onto the bed and starts to undo his belt, all while keeping those burning amber eyes on you.

“Strip. Now.” He orders, voice raspy as you hastily follow his instructions, your fingers fumbling with the laces of your corset. Eris is already naked by the time you have it halfway undone, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight as he stalks over to you and grabs both sides of your top. 

“I hope you weren’t too fond of this.” Eris hums, giving no warning as he rips it in two.  You shiver as the cool air licks at your skin, your nipples pebbling while he licks his lips in anticipation. “I always thought you looked better bare anyways.”

Heat runs down your body at the comment, your thighs clenching, immediately catching his eye. You try to rise up on your knees to kiss him, but he is quick to pin you down, straddling your waist as his cock rests heavily over your cunt. 

“Let me touch you, please,” You don’t even recognize your own voice as you beg for him. It had been so long since you had felt this needy for someone. “I need something, anything, just please!”

Before you can babble anymore, his lips collide with yours, claiming you possessively as two of his fingers prod at your soaking pussy. He bites down on your bottom lip, and at the same time, he shoves his fingers inside, giving you no prep as he swallows your cries. 

“I know, baby, I know,” He coos into your ear, moving to nibble on your earlobe. “We can make love next time, but right now, right now I need to fuck your pretty little brain out to make up for lost time.”

Your back arches as he curls his fingers, finding your spot with ease and teasing you as he kisses down your neck and to your breasts. He sucks your left nipple into his mouth, capturing it between his teeth and tugging until you moan. His cock is leaking against your thigh as he ruts against you. 

Rough sex wasn’t new to you, though it had been a while. Pierre was always gentle, taking his time, and while Eris had his moments, he was quite fond of making you beg. However, when fantasizing about this, you always imagine Eris cherishing the moment. This was raw and feral.

“Eris, I’m c-close…” You groan, rolling your hips so he can get even deeper. Your walls flutter around his thick fingers, squeezing them, but right before you can fall over the edge, he pulls them out roughly. “No!”

“The only way you are cumming tonight is around this cock.” He grunts, flipping you over so that you are lying on your stomach before dragging your hips up. Both of his hands squeeze your ass before he lines himself up to your hole, rubbing his length up and down to coat himself in your slick.

“Ohhh fuck…” You moan as the head catches on your clit, your entire cunt throbbing in anticipation. “Fuck me.”

“Not yet, little fox. I want you to tell me how badly you want it.” Eris says lowly, grasping his cock and barely pressing into you before pulling away. “Tell me how much you missed me, how much you thought about me while your husband fucked you in this bed.”

Your nails dig so hard into the mattress you are sure you’ll rip it as you screw your eyes shut, already so sensitive from his teasing. It felt so wrong to speak the thoughts you have been burying for so long, to admit that you never got over the High Lord behind you. 

All of your inhibitions get thrown out the window, though, as he lands a harsh smack on your ass, his fingers pinching your clit in annoyance. 

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t thought about this, about me, Y/N. That whenever your husband would roll over at night after a mediocre fuck you wouldn’t rub that needy clit while wishing it was me.” He hisses, one of his hands grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking until your neck is craned up. “Give yourself to me, let it go.”

“Yes, okay, yes, I haven’t stopped thinking about you!” You sob, every nerve in your body on edge as he grins in approval. “Every time I had sex, every night in the bath, I couldn’t stop picturing your hands. Your chest. Your cock.”

Eris rewards your confession with what you had been craving, thrusting his entire length in one fluid movement as your pussy burns from the stretch. 

“More. Give me more.” He demands, pulling almost all the way out before snapping his hips forward.

“I-” You swallow, your mind starting to fuzz with the ecstasy of having him back inside you. “I would close my eyes and pretend it was you. I wanted it to be you. He could never compare to you, could never make me feel this good.”

Your head drops down as he lets go of your hair in favor of grabbing your hips, hypnotized by the way your cunt swallowed him whole. His hair was starting to stick to his forehead as he truly fucked you. There was no gentleness, no tendrils of love, just pure ownership and passion.

And cauldron damn you did you love it.

“Gods damn it,” Eris swears, moving one of his hands underneath you to rest on your abdomen so he could feel just how deep inside you he was. “Touch yourself, Y/N. I want you to cum on my cock as I fill you up.”

There was a distant panic in the back of your head at the thought of him cumming inside you. You weren’t on any special tea to prevent pregnancy. In fact, you were on something to encourage it. 

“Eris, wait-” You try to protest, your words dying in your throat as he starts to rub your clit for you. His hands are calloused from years of use, giving you the friction that you need to cum within minutes. “Eris, I’m not on any birth control. If you-”

“What, you think I don’t want to knock you up?” He chuckles, voice rough as he increases the speed of both his fingers and thrusts. “Oh, Y/N, did you already forget you’re mine? I came here to claim you and breed you, little fox.”

“Oh my gods,” You whimper, the image only making you draw closer to your finish as he bends over to get right next to your ear. 

“You’re going to take all of my cum and thank me for it. I’m going to do what your husband couldn’t, right here in his bed for him to smell when he comes home.” Eris sneers, a tingle going up his spine as he feels his balls tighten with the need to release. “I’ll have you barefoot and pregnant for me before he can even come get you. You’re fucking mine.”

“Yours, Eris!” You repeat, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you clench around him. He gives one more circle on your bud, and you are gone, lost to a mind-numbing orgasm that has him throwing his head back and roaring. 

Every muscle in your body tightens and releases as you greedily milk his own cum into your womb, your screams echoing off the bedroom walls. You don’t even register Eris biting your shoulder, the pain mixing dangerously with the pleasure as small rivulets of blood run down your back. 

You feel your knees give out as you collapse onto the bed, lungs begging for air while Eris slowly pulls out of you. He is silent, and you have just enough strength to look back to see him watching his speed leak out of your gaping hole, his fingers quick to collect it and stuff it back inside you.

“Eris…” You whisper, your eyes are heavy as he gingerly lifts you up and cradles you in his arms. “Is this…did you really come back for me?”

He lets out a small huff of air in humor as he nods, kissing your forehead and smoothing away your hair. Exhausted, you lean into the touch, and he seems to hold you closer. “I’ll always come back for you, little fox.” 

[mikisspeak]

Turn ons’ on OP men

Male! Reader

Corazon, Shanks, Zoro, Sanji.

MINORS DON’T INTERACT

•The content below is explicit and it may blur the romantic concept of a minor’s mind. Please have discretion and do not read it if you’re under 18, i am not responsible of whatever problem you may present by reading this at a young age.•

Corazon/Rosinante Donquixote

•Seeing you walk around with his feathers coat.

Nothing looks more sexier for him than you on his clothes, the black feathers making your pretty eyes shine but more important how adorable you look. May be associated to his size kink but walking around in a clothe so much bigger than you just gives him more desire to pull you to his room and fuck you with feathers an’ all.

“Fuck..! Keep it like that, tightening around me so well…”

“Cora-san..!” You whimpered under him, whining and sandwiching most of your moans, you weren’t exactly allowed to be in bed with him.

“I think this coat fits better on you..Make sure to use it more often.” He kissed your forehead with a smirk and kept pounding into you.

Akagami no Shanks

•Jewelry.

Nothing looks hotter for him than jewelry of any type: Long necklaces, golden or silver chains around your neck, chokers, earrings..There’s something of the cold shiny material that gets him going all night. It’s just time till he drags you to the nearest private place on the Red Force to fuck you right, your pretty necklace hanging from your not-covered chest as the cold metal of your rings wrap around his length.

“Keep sucking me like that—oh god..” He whimpered the quietest he could as your jeweled hand pumped the base of his cock and your lips sucked his tip and the half of his length.

“Good boy..Sucking me so good with those pretty lips..~” he smirked and gave you a chuckled as his hand came to play and spin the rings on your fingers that were still wrapped around his girth for a sure grip.

Zoro

•You training.

God if he could choose one thing of you that is hotter than summer on Texas he would say watching you train. The way your locks of hair stick to your forehead; how your lips are slightly parted as you do cardio, or your heavy breathing while running. It all looks so fucking hot to him. The thin later of sweat makes your muscles shine slightly to the sun and when you throw your bottle of water on yourself by the heat he can’t help but groan at the sight of your wet shirt getting more transparent and showing your pecs. He’ll definitely fuck you from behind, taking you by the hips as you tried to do your plank repetitions.

“Your ass is so tight, you’ve been getting me hard all day with your stupid training routine, you can’t blame me— Ah!— now..” He groaned as he fucked you from behind, your pretty moans leaving your lips as clapping skin filled the room.

Sanji

•Taking his cigarette and blowing the smoke on his face.

As usual you were on the kitchen, sitting on the cabin as Sanji ended up cooking for the crew. He lit a cigarette as usual and offered it to you after him giving a few puffs, you took and, wanting to tease him, blew the smoke right on his face as he spoke to you in front of your face. His face got all red and damn, you weren’t going out of that kitchen any time soon.

“Sanji! Oh fuck, like that!” You moaned as the blonde man sinked between your legs, sucking hardly on your sex as you gripped his hair for dear life.

“Give me your sweet taste..” He mumbled, diving in his job again, people in this ship wouldn’t eat anytime soon.

A/N: Hope you liked it!

[daddyricsdoll]

Truth or Dare ✭ Carlos Sainz

Summary: You go to your best friends house for a distraction, but her boyfriend intrudes on that and you are left alone, until her brother comes along and decides a little game of truth or dare can be a distraction.

Warnings: Fingering, choking, oral (female receiving), bondage, blindfolding.

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: Well as you can see, I may have unleashed a little bit of my kinky side.

I turn the TV off aggressively and stand up from the couch to make my way to the kitchen. I grab myself a glass of water and lean against one of the counters. “Oh you’re still here” A strong recognisable spanish accent says.

“Yup, still here.” I turn around lift my glass up a little

“Well she’s not coming out anytime soon” He motions his head to the door that emits moans and screams of pleasure.

“Well, I guess I figured she cares more that I’m here and everything that happened with James and…”

“I heard what happened, I’m sorry. I knew he was a dick and when he-”

“No it’s fine, really. I just- I don’t want to think of him right now.”

“Oh ok” He nods his head up and down very slowly.

“Well I might leave, give myself a distraction.” I push off the counter, but Carlos makes no move to get out of my way.

“I could help distract you.”Carlos brings his hand up to my cheek and he traces my cheekbone. His face inches closer and his lips softly touch mine, Carlos’s big hands start moving along my body, one resting on the small of my back, the other tangled in my hair. My hand slides into his perfect hair pulling on some of the strands, until he breaks the kiss.

“I have an idea, how about we play a game, make it more exciting.”

“Oh, ok…what game?”

“Truth or Dare, but it all eventually leads to a dare.” He says cockily with his strong spanish accent and I immediately agree.

“You first” He lifts his chin up to me in a short motion.

“Oh, um well Carlos, I’ll give you two dares and you choose which one you prefer to execute. Ok?”

He nods his head and lets out a little hum. I move closer to him, and start running my finger up and down his chest. 

“So first one… make me cum from your fingers buried in me, and hand around my neck. Or… tie me up and use your tongue to bring me to a climax.”

Carlos’s eyes widen and he looks at me with an open mouth, until it closes into a smirk. “Can’t I do both?”

I ignored his question. “Which one Carlos?”

“You’ll find out. But first, go to my room.” He demands me and subordinatelyI walk to his bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed as he walks into the closet. Seconds later he walks out with a rope in one of his hands and a piece of fabric and a vibrator in the other.

“I’m going to change the game a little bit. Ok?” I nod to him eagerly. “I want you to stand up, and I want you to strip, take your clothes off, slowly.” I stand up and sensually take my clothes off, from my top, to my skirt, and then I unclasp my bra and slide down my thongs.

Carlos looks at me like a predator stalking its prey, and I clench my legs together, as he does the same with his hands and then he stands up and slowly circles my body. I feel his presence behind me and his fingers trace the outline of my shoulder, they slide down my arm and then his finger spreads out and press lightly against my lower stomach.

His hand then slides up and starts caressing my breasts, his fingers tickle my hard nipples and his breath touches the back of my neck. His left hand comes around and lightly wraps itself around my neck. I arch my back and his fingers still toy with my nipples and his grip around my neck grows tighter.

Little moans escape my mouth and his hand finally travels down my waist and past my pelvic bone, then in between my legs. His fingers travel through my folds and then start rubbing circles around my clit.

“Open your legs Hermosa” He whispers against my ear and tries to pry my legs open with his hand. I open my legs a little bit wider and his fingers slide through my wetness, he circles around my clit and lingers just outside of my hole until a moan mixed with a whine leaves my mouth and he ultimately slips two of his fingers inside me, with much force that he’s buried knuckles deep.

Carlos starts thrusting his fingers at a fast pace and short quick pants leave my mouth. “Better than James?” Carlos asks confidently in my ear, and I reply with a hurried hum. My head tilts up to the ceiling and Carlos’ grip on my neck tightens, his palm starts rubbing against my clit in rough motions bringing me to my climax.

“That’s it, cum on my fingers” He starts curling his fingers inside of me, stroking places that I’ve only just discovered could be touched. A loud scream leaves my mouth and Carlos continues his pace as I cum on his fingers. 

“Ahh, look at you, your pretty little cunt squeezing my fingers.” The Spaniard groans and then pulls his fingers out of me, they then land in between his full lips and his eyes roll to the back of his head. 

“You taste so good Cariño” He whispers into my ear, his hand loosening the grip around my neck. “Get on the bed now. Lie down, with your arms and legs spread out. Okay?” His breath tickles my ear and I nod before he lightly pushes my body toward the bed.

I carefully walk to the bed, I get closer and crawl up the bed, once I’m in the middle I lay down on my back and spread my limbs out. I sit up a little bit and watch Carlos walk toward me with a long piece of fabric in one hand, and some silk ties in the other.

I resist myself from clenching my legs together as best I can and then Carlos’s hands delicately start caressing my face, placing the blindfold across my eyes. He then presses my body down. “Relax Cariño” His hand rests on my stomach. My breathing is controlled, and my lips are parted, my senses heightened, waiting for the next touch from Carlos.

His hand runs up and down my arm before tying it to one of the bedposts, he does the same with the other and then with my legs. I feel myself become more wet and then his hand spans out on my abdomen and his breath tickles my core.

Carlos lets out a deep chuckle as I squirm. He then drags his tongue along my entrance in one big long lick, his tongue goes in between my folds and then his lips wrap around my clit.

Moans spill out of my mouth while his tongue starts drawing circles around my clit. Carlos has me writhing as much as I can in these circumstances and then he forces my body to arch as he slips his tongue inside of me.

We moan in sync and my hands make fists as I wish it held Carlos’s hair. His tongue moves in controlled motions, sometimes flattening out and then going firm. Full, soft lips perfectly accompanying the occasional harsh swipes of his tongue. My legs start shaking and Carlos starts working harder, his mouth sending me to different worlds.

I start choking on my whimpers and the knot in my stomach explodes as I reach my climax once again. I desire to look at Carlos, the gorgeous man between my legs. But this piece of fabric covers my vision, so my imagination is the only thing keeping me from going insane. I imagine strands of his hair falling on his face, his big beautiful brown eyes staring up at me, and oh his tantalising mouth, the one lapping up my cum.

He continues his movements for seconds before I feel his weight leave the bed. My legs begin to come free of the ties and then the same for my wrists. The blindfold still covering my eyes and I don’t move it yet waiting for Carlos, and just like I had predicted his soft hands touch my face.

They caress my cheekbones and then leisurely glide to the back of my head, and instead of pulling the blindfold off he pulls me in for a warm kiss, our lips colliding and creating sparks. With delicate precision he takes off my blindfold while my attention is consumed by his lips. And then I finally see his coffee eyes, staring right into mine.

“How was that Querida?” I can’t form a response so I give him a smile of content, his plump lips mirror mine as they curl into a smile. His hand runs through my hair, his eyes still never leaving mine. Carlos leaves for a second and walks back with a cloth, he lays me down and cleans me up, his body then retires next to mine on the bed and the sound of his breathing is what leads me into sleep.

[kayadrake123]

Love 

Tim Drake x Reader long Headcannons

Hey guys! Hope you’re all good. I haven’t posted for a while and I thought it would be nice to make a come back with a long head cannon about you and Tim’s relationship. Here you go! I will be posting more stuff soon!

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

Contrary to belief, Tim is actually a very affectionate person

And he has different ways of showing it depending on who you are

With his siblings he always makes sure to ask them about their interests and to get frequent updates on their lives 

He doesn’t mind them talking his ear off, even though he pretends he does with them by groaning and rolling his eyes 

Might get them a gift here and there

For example whenever he sees a book Jason may be interested in, he sneaks it into his apartment later that night with a note that says ‘hopefully this will make you leave me alone for a while’ 

He’s just kidding of course

With his friends he does pretty much the same thing, but he makes sure to add in a lot of reassuring hugs with them

Now with you his lover, he’s the softest he has ever been. 

He didn’t even think it was possible for him to be down this bad, I mean he’s been in other relationships but NOTHING will ever compare to the love he feels for you

He finds himself being vulnerable without even wanting to because you just have this effect on him where he instantly melts and feels safe in your presence

He has many love languages, but his main three are definitely physical touch, quality time and acts of service

He wants to be near you all the time

You radiate warmth and beauty and he finds himself being pulled towards you, that’s how you met in the first place 

He loves hugging you 

The feeling of your arms wrapped around him as he clings to you brings him immense happiness 

A hug from you can heal anything and everything 

He has a habit of crossing your body parts when you sit next to each other, with or without people around 

What I mean by this is that you’d be sitting next to him in a booth at a restaurant and Tim would make sure to cross your forearms together on the table where your hand is resting and hold your hand 

He drapes one of your legs over his when you’re sitting next to each other on a couch 

Neck kisses. 

He loves the way you squirm when he kisses you there and the beautiful smile that spreads across your gorgeous lips

He loves when you kiss him on random places of his body, such as his back when he’s facing away from you or his arm when it’s positioned above your head

He loves when you drag the tips of your nails across his arm or his back, he falls asleep to that all the time, especially on the hard nights 

He loves giving you massages, anywhere at anytime 

Whenever you guys go on walks he likes to link your pinkies together because he thinks it’s so wholesome and gentle - you’re both very independent but still want to be close to each other even if it’s the slightest touch 

Always opens the car door for you. ALWAYS 

He actually gets upset if you don’t let him do it 

He will hold your bag for you DO NOT EVEN TRY TO FIGHT HIM ON THIS 

Loves that when you do your nails (if you get your nails done) you ask him what colour you should get 

Loves it even more when you listen to him and choose the colour he chose 

Your feet are sore after walking in heels the whole night? He will pick you up bridal style and carry you. No questions asked. 

At galas when he can see you’re getting hot, he’ll grab a fan that he stored in his suit jacket and wordlessly fan you 

He loves laying his head in your lap and when you stroke his hair

Loves when you give him kisses on the tip of his nose 

When you first bit him he was like ???? What are they doing ??? 

But he got used to it and understands that you get a cuteness overload that makes you bite those you love

If you’re also a vigilante he always wants to be your partner on missions and patrol 

Hates when you get hurt like he actually cries I’m not kidding 

Not in front of his siblings (unless you’re dying or the injury is very severe) but later when you get home after confirming you are in fact okay 

Once you got shot in the knee when he was all the way across town from you on patrol

He dropped everything he was going to see you and make sure you’re okay (bailed on a lead he’s been following for 6 months) 

When you told him you were okay he nodded but you knew he didn’t believe you

The truth is Tim heard your scream over the comms and how in pain you sounded - he also knew you were still in so much fucking pain because your body was tense and with every movement he could see you forcing yourself to not cry out in pain 

Hates to see you upset when he gets hurt and will spend the next few days, weeks if he has to, reassuring you that he is okay 

He worships you. 

In and out of the bedroom 

He takes his time with you, kissing up your legs, your stomach, your chest and then he captures your lips in the most desperate and passionate kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting more of him 

He loves the feeling of your body against his, skin-to-skin 

He always picks positions where he can feel your body against his

He also likes cuddling skin-to-skin 

He thinks you are the most beautiful and amazing human he has ever met and he feels so privileged and lucky to have you as his lover 

He loves being loved by you and he loves loving you 

You help him with a lot of things such as his anxiety, anger and his overcompensating 

Tim wasn’t ever really good at letting people love him, with his parents not being very affectionate and loving with him when he was younger 

He’s always been the one who loves and doesn’t get that love back 

But you, you changed that 

You let him know everyday that you love him and that you genuinely care about him and want to be with him 24/7

You’re his best friend and his soulmate and he will love you till his last breath and even beyond the grave

[zhongrin]

with you...

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, childe, tighnari, wanderer

◇ tags ◇ fluff, slight angst in zhongli’s i’m sorry i couldn’t resist, childe’s is a little suggestive

◇ a/n ◇ i am so down bad for zhongli (but yall probably know this already huh)

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

…. zhongli knows he could dress in rags and you’d still call him handsome. you’ve called him a variety of names and titles - sweet and silly ones, sensual and sultry ones - and he adores them all, adopts them as part of his identity as the mortal being that is zhongli, and refers back to you with the utmost reverence. he knows he need not resent his former names nor his more brutish appearances, for you’ve seen them past their monstrosity and still sees something beautiful in all of them. you’ve shown him how you’ve embraced him in his entirety; his past and his present, and his future.

with you, he can’t wait to experience your life together.

(- yet he knows every journey has its end, and so he promises himself that he’ll appreciate you every step of the way)

…. al haitham knows he doesn’t need to sugarcoat his words. you already know that he’s straightforward and blunt with his remarks and intentions, yet still, you choose to be with him. it’s not that he can’t “read the room” or “be a little more attentive”; he just doesn’t think he’s fit for the job if praises and reassurances that can barely hold any water are what people want in those situations. he also knows that you understand the nature of his job without him having to spell it out for you; he likes that he can talk or grumble about all the darkest secrets of the akademiya along with all of its forbidden secrets, and you would store it in your memory in a drawer where only he has the key to unlocking them.

with you, he doesn’t need to hold back - be it his words, his secrets, or his love, he knows you’ll accept them all and treasure them gently within your arms.

…. childe knows he can trust you with ajax. the lonely, repressed, forced-to-grow-up-far-too-soon ajax. gone is the fearsome and bloodthirsty eleventh harbinger; every time he sees you, he feels like he’s a child all over again, seeing his favorite toy and snuggling into the comfiest blanket that smells like home. he knows you would indulge his every request, from a head pat to a full-on embrace that lasts for the whole day. from a bite of the cake you’re having to a whole ten-course meal. from a little peck to a make-out session that turns into something more… you continue to spoil him despite your nagging and little exasperated huffs. he thinks it’s very very cute and endearing. sometimes tartaglia thinks he doesn’t deserve you, but ajax has already forgotten a world without you and firmly refuses to let you go with that childish mentality of his.

with you, his haven, childe knows he could be in touch with his child self and be as selfish as he wants in reveling within your love, because it seems like you’ve already long since made your home in his heart and won’t be leaving anytime soon, much to his delight.

…. tighnari knows he can fully indulge in his baser instincts and you’ll let him. you might complain, but your words won’t have any bites on them and your body will support him to let him take as much as he needed. his nesting behaviors should be an oddity in normal humans’ eyes (he can’t help stealing your clothes because the smell of his mate comforts him and helps him sleep, okay, get your mind off the gutter), yet you tell him he’s adorable and ask him if you can join in. the little fangs in his mouth should be something people are wary of (they’re made for rip and tear upon intimidation, a tool made to fight against danger), yet you tap on them whenever he bares his teeth and tells him his ‘little fangies’ are cute. you’re such a weird lummox. and tighnari loves this weird lummox so, so much.

with you, he sees a mate and a partner for life, and while fennec foxes don’t normally enjoy cuddles, he supposes he can make an exception.

….. wanderer knows he can trust you to pull him back to where he needs to be whenever he’s lost. you’ve always been meddlesome and kinder than you should be with scaramouche, and even with his new identity you’re just as nosy, and he’s grateful for it. you know not to take him seriously when he’s just acting like he doesn’t want you around, but you know to put your foot down when he tries to push you away because he’s starting to doubt himself all over again. he knows he’s not the best lover out there - hell, he’s pretty convinced that he's the worst lover in all of teyvat. but you... you stick with him regardless. you pinch his cheeks and kiss his forehead and do all the things that somehow manage to make him blush. he might not be the best lover on teyvat, but he knows that you are. so he’ll keep trying his best, just for you.

with you, his captivating dancing doll, maybe the soldier doll has managed to form a heart before it could burn to ashes after all.

— with you, i know i am where i belong, and i know that i am safe and loved.

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash

[bartxnhood]

lost stars | c.b

colby brock x reader

summary: colby is always there for you. even at your worst.

warnings: mentions of depression, anxiety, thoughts of suicide, etc.

a/n: i’ve been kinda in a slump lately so this is kinda a self insert, but also if any of my followers or you come across this i genuinely hope you know that it will get better. if you need someone to talk to me, please reach out to me. i’ll always be here for you. ❤️

requests open

not proofread

Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

you were overcome with a familiar sensation. the sensation of having everyone around you but still feeling alone in the world occurred often. the need to curl up under your covers and wither away, the pain in your chest, the random tears, the feeling that you're going crazy. everything was wrong, but you were unable to express your feelings.

you surrounded yourself with toxic people over the years, hungry for any type of attention, even if it was unpleasant. you desired to feel something. even if that meant it hurt you more, it was better than nothing. you weren't numb.

you tried to block out your thoughts with music, but the songs only served to highlight how unhappy you were. your life was uninteresting, and you feared you'd never feel genuine happiness again. until you met colby, you saw everything in black and white.

he was a colorful person who saw the good in the world while you only saw the terrible. it has been said that opposites attract. despite this, you two had a lot in common after the meeting.

first and foremost, both of you had excellent musical tastes. if one of you discovered a new song or band, you'd tell each other about it. alternatively, if colby was droning on about the paranormal and his love for hunting the unknown, you'd be all ears, staring at him with the brightest smile, seeing how his eyes lit up. colby often enjoyed movie marathons with you; you'd both choose a few films you hadn't seen before and watch them together, along with the occasional old favorite you both adored.

“oh cmon, there was totally enough room for jack!” you exclaimed with the remote in hand. you just finished watching titanic for probably the hundredth time with him and you were back to arguing about the ending. “i’m not saying there wasn’t, jus sayin it would’ve been hard to balance!” he laughed, standing up from your sofa with the popcorn bowl in hand. “okay yeah maybe, but that’s why she had the life jacket!” you heard him snicker from the kitchen, “y/n, the movie is twenty years old, i don’t think it’ll change anytime soon. sorry darling” he walked back into the living room falling by your side.

though, it wasn’t always glamorous. you knew colby was famous, you know girls practically threw themselves at him and it did make you uneasy.

not that you thought you weren’t good enough for him, but the fear that once you had another episode, he would leave you.

colby understood about your mental health; he was always there for you and would do whatever to help you the best he could. you never wanted him to see you at your lowest; it was a difficult period for you, and you didn't want colby to bear that burden.

you were going through that again. everything went back to black and white, and the color faded day by day. you began to lose that sparkle in your eyes, you stopped smiling at his texts, you slept most of the day, you didn't leave your bed, and you even forgot to eat some days. your body was once again being overwhelmed by that sensation.

colby began to notice your absence, your one-word texts back, or even not messaging back for hours. it was like a complete shift. he was aware of what was going on and did not hold it against you. you needed time to deal with everything, but he didn't want you alone. he didn't have much experience with what you were feeling, but he would spend every single day with you just to understand; he wants to help you. he doesn't want you to suffer any longer, and even if you didn't talk to him or tell him how you felt, he wanted you to know he was there for you no matter what.

you lay on your bed, a mountain of sheets covering your body. all of your lights were turned out, and the only light came from your window. you couldn't recall when you last showered, maybe four days ago if you had to guess.

when you tried to close your eyes, you felt that familiar aching in your chest again. you began to cry as memories flooded your head. it was annoying not to be able to sleep without your mind taking control. reminding yourself of all you could have done better or things that have contributed to your depression. you felt guilty for everything, even if it had nothing to do with you.

you rolled over, facing your window and door. It was almost midnight. you just wanted to sleep, but following your previous naps, you doubted you'd get any. you tried to close your eyes and rest, but were interrupted by a knock at the door. "y/n?" you heard your boyfriend's voice and opened the door, only to be met with darkness. you opened your eyes and looked at him. "colby?"

he entered, closing the door behind him. "you vanished, and I just wanted to check on you." he left his spare key on your desk. "im okay," he knew you weren't, so he moved over to your side and perched on the edge of the bed. "you sure?" he asks, reaching for your hand. "i know you're having a hard time; whether you let me in or not is up to you." "but I hate seeing you suffer like this, y/n," he implored, his thumb sliding over your knuckles. meanwhile, you chewed on the inside of your cheek as you stared at the wall, fighting back the surge of emotions. "I just," you began, exhaling the breath you felt you'd been holding.

“I'm not sure, colbs. "I just don't know," you hesitated, "I always end up like this again." I can't express how I feel. "I've spent so much time suffering that it's normal," you explained, a few tears falling from your eyes. I don't want to put you down because you deserve so much more."

colby rose, had you scoot over, and took your place on the bed. he drew you closer, allowing you to cry with your head on his chest. "please don't say that." knowing how depressed you were shattered his heart. "i want to be there for you no matter how many times you go through this. “its a part of you that i still adore. you closed your eyes, fighting back tears as he smiled sadly.

"youll get through this, and I'll be right here until you do. you don't have to be alone anymore."

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously

parings -> ( eventually ) enhypen x reader genre -> soulmate au, fantasy au, angst warnings -> angst, mention of burns / attack word count -> 1.4k

abstract -> sports day is coming but Sooha isn't any closer to befriending the witch and Niki and Sunghoon seem to be further from their soulmate accepting them anytime soon...

y/n's perspective 

The school has opened many things. Last week's announcements were a success, the complaint box was questionable but the school mandated it, and field day was the most looked forward to event which was finally approved. 

“Okay, with all these rules, there will be different pairings. The school will randomize the students and equalize the number of students from each school in the different groups” I explained. 

“Student council will not be a part of field day, besides the select few who asked for the waiver at the beginning of the week,” Wonyoung said and it was made so student council students didn’t cheat or rig an event. 

“So have your planned assignments ready, i’ll review them when you’re done” Wonyoung announced and they nodded. 

“y/n, do you know if students are banned from events, yet?” EJ asked and I nodded. “These are the files of each school’s banned list, this is because of powers, suspensions, etcetera. If they’d like to waiver it they need to request a meeting with the counselors” I explained and they nodded. 

“If you have any questions please ask an event planner” I said as everyone started leaving or planning. I was gonna leave when I was about to run into Niki… I had to be more careful.

“I wanted to know why my waiver wasn’t approved?” he asked and I sighed.

“Your powers–" "I know, but I really wanted to participate,'' he begged and I sighed seeing how badly he wanted to participate. “I don’t think you can, I'm sorry Niki, '' I apologize. I came to realize he was very athletic and must've looked forward to this. “I just don’t want to be standing around doing nothing” he confessed and I nodded. 

“Do you want to be an instructor? You’d be able to determine who wins and how to do things correctly? I was gonna ask K but if–" "Could I?!” he yelled and soon bowed, apologizing for his outburst. It was cute. 

“Don’t apologize. I’ll write you up for it, okay?” I asked and he nodded happily. 

“Thank you!” he said and I smiled at the energetic boy. He didn’t talk to me often but I knew he was my other soulmate. He didn’t really show skinship with Sooha, I noticed that. She’s mainly ever like that with the oldest ones in their group… and sometimes Jungwon but it got better. 

“Are you sure giving him so much power is okay?” I heard Sunoo. “He’ll be fine,” I said and he chuckled. “Sure… and when he purposely makes his favorites win, it'll be on you, miss president” he teased. 

“Oh yeah? Are you gonna overthrow me?” I asked and he laughed. “Maybe I should,” he said, and before we could say more I heard a gag. “Seriously in public?” I heard and I laughed. “Eunchae?” I asked and she smiled. “Dinner… with the girls, come on,” she said as she dragged me away. 

“Wonnie!!” fun fact… Jungwon and Wonyoung hated each other. Mainly because they share the same nickname. 

“Wonyoung!” Eunchae corrected and Jungwon rolled his eyes. “Take that leech! Your own girlfriend chooses me over you!” she taunted and he glared at the girl.

“Sure Wonyoung” he said in a monotone tired voice and she scoffed. 

“Hmph, let's go!”

niki’s perspective

y/n was always with Jungwon and Sunoo… or with her friends.

I didn’t know how to approach her and recently I've been helping with cheering up Sunghoon… he's slowly becoming a corpse.

But he hasn’t tried gaining her attention, instead leaving the situation alone.

“Niki, take it easy with her! Don’t overwhelm her!” Sunoo scolded Jungwon by his side also.

“Boys!” I heard as I saw Sooha happily yell at us from our regular table. “What happened today?” Heeseung asked. Since he’s vice president he wasn’t in the meeting today since it was mainly to plan.

“Event planning for the sports day. We were going over regulations” Jungwon explained.

“Who should we look out for?” Jay asked and I laughed. We were definitely more competitive so we needed to win for the Decelis

“Well the Riverfield council is gonna be a threat… the humans I have really no idea, but witches play dirty” Sunoo explained.

“Dirty? That’s unfair then!” Sooha said and for a second I realized Sunghoon was still in the same state…

It’s been a week and yet he’s still badly coping… “Witches are granted to use their powers in some of the games, Sooha” Sunoo said. “Ooh! Is y/n playing?!” She asked and I shook my head.

“Why not?” she soon asked me with a pout… she’s been wanting to play with y/n ever since sports day was announced.

“Her powers aren’t suitable to be playing, because of her specializing in blood magic, being around vampires isn’t a good idea” I explained and she nodded.

“She’ll be watching only,” Jungwon said and I soon felt Sunoo judging me. “Oh and I’m not allowed to play” I said and they looked at me confused.

“What!? I thought y/n was gonna get it fixed for you!” Jay said and I shook my head.

“I can’t play since it’ll be unfair with my powers but I’ll be an instructor!” I said proudly and they didn’t look happy…

“So you’re gonna cheat?” Heeseung asked and I punched him.

“I would never!” 

“I want to join the student council!” I heard and honestly, I was shocked… “W-what?” Jungwon stuttered and she smiled softly. “Well… Wonyoung told me recently that I can’t be in the  meetings since I'm not a student–""Why is it any of her business?” Jake said annoyed at the mention of a witch.

Recently… especially with Sunghoon getting rejected, he has been very annoyed with Bright Sun… “Huh… Well, she’s right. Besides, I see this as getting y/n to be friends–""Sooha, let it go already. She’s a bitch to you, she rejected Sunghoon… just stop wanting to be friends with her” Jake said and I saw Jungwon glare at our hyung…

“Jake… shut up!” Sunoo said and he scoffed.

“Why should I? You really can’t see how rude she is? To Sooha… and look at Sunghoon!” Jake argued and he only shook his head… “She has every reason to hate us… she didn’t accept Jungwon at first either” Sunghoon defended and Jake scoffed.

“Jake stop–” “Not you too Heeseung” he interrupted and the oldest sighed… he couldn’t have a say in it… but I had a bad feeling about how Jake was acting.

“I need air”

jake’s perspective

Everything was better before the merge, before meeting y/n, before meeting Riverfrield… y/n wasn’t Sooha, she was my soulmate but Sooha would always be more to me than the little witch would.

I walked with no destination… So why was I here?

“Oh… hello?” she said and I felt annoyed at seeing her. “Stay away from Sooha” I warned and she looked shocked but shrugged. “You should tell her that,” she said indifferently and I scoffed. 

“What are you trying to say? You are nothing but mean to her!” I yelled and she looked confused… “I’ve never once been mean to her! I have every right to but I don’t” she said and I laughed. 

“It's not my fault hyung loves her more than you, that I do her more than you,” I said and I saw her flinch a little until scoffing.  

“Gonna pull a Heeseung and reject me too?” she asked and I got closer… I grabbed the collar of her uniform tightly as I made sure to look her in the eyes. 

I felt the tingles you would at touching your soulmate… but I wouldn’t let that blind me. 

“I’m rejecting you… you’re nothing but a servant of nature. And if you don’t stay away from Sooha or the rest of us will make your life a living hell” I said and her face contorted with fear… it was better this way… so why did I smell burning?

“y/n!” I heard as I let her go and I saw one of her roommates… I then looked back at y/n who was on the floor now shuffling away from me… I saw the burnt clothes and even some of her skin? 

Did I lose control again?

“Hyung!” I heard as I saw Niki… he looked at what the room was.

It looked bad…

y/n was on the floor… she was crying and whimpering, burns hurt. I know that's because I’ve accidentally done it to people like I did with her. 

“y/n are you–” “No… stay over there” she said and I saw Niki’s face fall, like he was heartbroken. I was frozen. I heard sobs and coaxing words… I couldn’t stop looking at my hands. 

I was suddenly grabbed and taken away. I then felt something hit me in the face. 

“You’re dead”

if you would like to be on the taglist please send an ask or comment under this post. If you message me there might be a chance I don't see if and if you ask on another post such as in one of the chapters it'll be hard to keep up with.

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[unreliablesnake]

The dress (Vincent de Gramont x reader)

Summary: You're looking for the perfect wedding dress.

Note: I mentioned the wedding in Hold on tight. So why not? / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

“I don’t like it,” Vincent stated, his tone not giving room for disagreement. “This silhouette doesn’t look good on you, mon amour. Try something else.”

The employee of the bridal store nodded nervously, but you had a hard time keeping your cool. “Vincent, you shouldn’t even see my dress before the wedding. Go home,” you ordered.

He slowly stood up and walked over to you. The sales associate took several steps back, giving you the chance to talk as privately as it was possible in the middle of the store. You looked into his green eyes as if you were challenging him, and the barely visible smile tugging on his lips gave away that he liked this little game of yours.

While he wanted to control your life, you kept testing the limits, reminding him that you only stay as long as you can have relative freedom. He didn’t like that, but he was willing to accept it for now. The wedding was something he wanted to keep in his own hands, though. He hired Europe’s best wedding planner to help with the event, and he wanted it to be a surprise for you. You could take part in the planning every once in a while, but you weren’t allowed to see the full picture before the big day.

“You want me to leave?” he asked you as he ran a finger down from your chin to tour your cleavage. “Say the word, love, and I’ll leave.”

You wanted him to leave, but as you thought about it, you realized that you were completely alone here in Paris. You didn’t have any friends, no one other than your fiancé to help you with choosing the dress. He knew that perfectly well, this is why he was so certain you would let him stay.

No, you shouldn’t let him control you like that. “Please, leave. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” you said quietly as you leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

Vincent drew in a sharp breath as he watched you. “All right, I’ll leave. But don’t expect to leave the bedroom anytime soon,” he told you with a predatory smile.

Nodding, you watched as he turned around and left the store. You knew you weren’t completely alone, he surely left some members of his security team around to keep you safe, but that didn’t matter now. After taking a deep breath, you turned to the employee with a wide grin and said, “Okay, let’s see something show stopping. I want his jaw to drop when he sees me.”

“As you wish. I have the perfect dress in mind,” she said kindly. “Please, wait in the fitting room, I will be there in a minute.”

Ten minutes later you were looking at your reflection in the mirror, admiring the dress you had on. It was perfect. As it turned out, this one came straight from the runway, and you could feel it in your bones that this was the one. But you needed a second opinion, and it sure as hell wouldn’t come from a sales associate who wanted to sell it to you.

God, you were thinking like Vincent already. You would have taken their advice back in New York.

You had your phone with you, so you quickly started a video call and waited for Winston to answer. You couldn’t tell your parents you were getting married to a guy you barely knew and they hadn’t met yet, but Winston knew about Vincent, and he was the closest thing you had to a father.

“Well, good afternoon to you,” he said with a smile.

“Good morning, Winston. I need your opinion.” He raised an eyebrow as he waited for your explanation. “I’m in a bridal store and I’m wearing a dress that I love, but I’m alone and I need a second opinion,” you said.

You could see the way he froze at the word bridal. Shit, you hadn’t told him yet. “Are you getting married?” he asked slowly. You bit on your lower lip as you nodded. “Congratulations, I believe.”

You glanced over at the employee, giving her a look that said she should leave the room for now. This was another trick you had learned from your fiancé, one that came in handy every now and then.

“I know it sounds bad, and rushed, and I shouldn’t do it, but–”

“You love him,” he finished for you. When you nodded, he let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you one hundred percent sure that this is what you want? A divorce can be messy, especially from him.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t hurt me.” It was a lie, you knew he would, but you didn’t want to worry him. Not when you were trying to focus on one thing at the time, in this case the dress. So you cleared your throat and began to change the topic. “As for the dress,” you said with a smile, “I wanted to go for something special, something grandiose. I want him to forget how to breathe when he sees me at the altar.”

You asked the employee to return and help you with the phone. She took it from you, introduced herself to Winston shortly, then began to film you from every angle. You couldn’t see Winston’s reaction, but you got more and more nervous as the seconds passed.

Then the woman gave you back the device, and you finally saw your friend. “What do you think?”

“It’s gorgeous,” he replied with a smile.

Nodding, you turned to the employee and told her you were choosing this one. When she left to take care of everything related to the purchase, and also giving you some more privacy, you turned your attention back to your old boss.

“How are you? We haven’t really talked in a while,” you added guiltily.

It was your fault entirely. He tried to call, but you never really picked up, and barely answered his messages. Everything happened this way because of Vincent, who kept you way too occupied to think about home. You were addicted to him, and sadly he knew that perfectly well.

“Well, I’m all right,” came his reply. “The new concierge seems to be good. Not as good as Charon, of course, but she will learn all the tricks eventually.”

“I’m glad to hear that. You know, I was thinking about going home for a week or two to visit my family. If I go, can I visit you too?”

“You’re always welcome in the Continental, dear.”

With a smile, you nodded and promised you would visit then. After this you quickly said your goodbyes, and you headed back to the fitting room in the company of another employee to get out of the dress. It hurt you to leave the beautiful dress behind, knowing it would take a while to get your very own, but you had to be strong for now.

It was late in the evening when Vincent got home from a meeting, and he immediately dragged you to the bedroom with a wicked smile. “I missed you so much,” he whispered against your lips.

You buried your fingers into his hair as you returned the kiss, smiling to yourself at the proximity that you were craving. But then you stopped and pulled away a bit, causing him to give you a questioning look. “I want to go home,” you began, suddenly realizing you phrased it quite badly. “It’s just a visit, for a week or two. I would see my parents, and maybe I would stop by the Continental.”

Vincent visibly relaxed after hearing the explanation. “You want me to stay here without you for that long?”

“I thought you should come with me. Not to the Continental, of course. I’m thinking about visiting my parents together,” you said.

He placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose as he thought it through. “I assumed you didn’t want to introduce me,” he noted with an interested look.

You shrugged. “I changed my mind. But you’ll need casual clothes, not these suits. They must believe that you’re just some guy from Paris,” you told him with a smile.

“Just some guy? Is that so?” he asked as he playfully bit your earlobe, then let his lips travel down your jawline. “I’m not sure I can do that.”

“Try. For me. Please,” you added, looking up at him with your big, begging eyes.

You knew this would work. “How could I say no when you’re begging me like this?” he asked huskily before pulling you into another, hungry kiss. “But I’ll make you beg all night in return, my love.”

[teejaystumbles]

Against all odds (part 7)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6

This is all I've got so far but I figured I'd let you have it and hopefully I'll have more soon :3

**

Hob works at a news agency. As someone with hundreds of years of experiencing political and societal change he has a keen eye for news-worthy happenings. Often he can predict very well which events are important, which will have historical influence or be the talk of the nation for a long time. Hob edits his colleague’s articles and reports, chooses which ones are worthy of printing and which aren’t, tries to remove or at least mitigate the xenophobia and fearmongering in what he hopes are the last days of the Cold War. People don’t need fear to grow, they need hope. He thinks he’ll stop doing this soon, though. His name - Robert Goulding at the moment - pops up in too many places and he doesn’t like being recognizable for more than a few decades. He takes care to not become chief editor and stay out of the limelight but he thinks he’ll move on soon. Maybe he’ll take a break and live off his stock profits. Find a quiet place for him and his stranger, somewhere in the countryside, with a garden…

Hob shakes himself out of his fantasy and laughs at himself. Wishful thinking will hardly be of any use. He’s been wishing and hoping for more time with his stranger for so many centuries. Now it finally seems like he might get lucky enough to have regular contact, via journal entries, and maybe even visits. That is enough. He shouldn’t be greedy.

With a sigh and a silent curse that he stopped smoking he goes to finish his work so he can get home and write an answer to his friend.

In the evening Hob pours himself a whiskey and sits down at his desk, open journal before him. He looks over to his bed. His stranger had sat here last night, watching him. Hob swallows reflexively and takes another sip of his drink, trying to not let his thoughts go down a slippery, horny slope before he starts writing.

June 15th, 1989

Dear friend,

I am glad you felt you could come and visit me and that you feel safe in my presence. I consider it an honour and I want to assure you that I do not mind in the least if you stop by whenever you feel like it. I trust you. Feel free to come here anytime, no matter if I'm awake or not, or if I’m even here. If my place can be a retreat for you from your everyday worries or workplace (as I assume you are busy doing something somewhere), I would be very happy. Leave your shoes off the sofa, that’s all I ask. ;-)

But seriously, my home is your home. I mean it. I look forward to seeing you again as well.

Reading about your ordeal was horrible. I am so sorry this happened to you and that I didn’t hear anything about it. I would have moved everything between Heaven and Earth to free you, my friend, please believe me. You say the ones responsible have been punished but I cannot stop myself from imagining visiting vengeance upon them for your sake. To imprison you someone, anyone, for such a long period of time, in the conditions that you described, is barbaric and the rage I feel at the mere thought is nearly blinding.

I am deeply sorry for your loss and for all you had to endure. I would give you anything in my power to make you feel safe, dear stranger. If you ever need my help, please call me. I don’t know if you had any means to call for help, you probably didn’t, but please - should you ever be in any trouble or danger or in need of help, I urge you to call on me! I will come and help you the best I can, I will not allow you to be trapped ever again. After all, what are friends for, if not for helping one another?

Your problems with closed spaces and strangers are completely understandable and I would never hold it against you if you never want to meet inside a building again. I hope we’ll be able to find a suitable replacement for the old haunt, at least until you feel more at ease again. These things take time, at least for humans, and although I would not dare to insinuate that you are not more robust than the average human and probably not subject to the same physical and mental limits I’d wager a guess that you will need time to heal, my friend. I sincerely ask you to take that time. You strike me as the type to jump headfirst back into work and duty after getting free and that is not recommended, no matter what or how powerful you are. You were imprisoned for 80 years and subjected to torture, you cannot expect to be the same after that. No one should expect you to be the same, to not be changed by it or in need of healing and time to recuperate. 

I am only human but in my long life I have met a few other immortal beings, not all of them human but all of them with very similar needs and wants. I know you’re probably bristling right now because I dare to suggest you might be unfit for whatever it is you do but I hope you believe me when I tell you this only because I care for you - you need a break. Please, stranger, promise me you’ll take care of yourself, if you cannot let others do that for you. I would be happy to help in any way I can. Visit me at your leisure, I promise I will never turn you away, or look down on you for showing weakness. You have seen me at my lowest and I have always trusted you to still respect me after that. Just like that, I would never think any less of you for any of this.

I’ll be happy to help you learn more about humanity, get to know humans again. I am honoured that you have elevated me in your mind to something else but I am as human as they come. So if you like me, you can like other humans as well, right?

I will think of a nice place to meet and let you know as soon as I’ve decided. Remember, in the meantime this place is always open to you. Even including watching me sleep. ;-P

Stay safe,

Your friend Hob

Hob puts down the pen and skims over his lines. Yes, that’s not too forward but inviting enough to let his stranger feel safe and welcome. It’s a bit daring, calling his stranger in need of a break, but it’s the right thing to say and offer.

He nods, downs his whiskey and gets ready for bed.

Part 8

[cityzenshark]

Terran Mirage with Malto Terrans -- Jawbreaker

1 - Hashtag | 2 - Twitch | 3 - Jawbreaker | 4 - Nightshade | 5 - Thrash

(disclaimer: this is a fanfic, don't take it seriously with the canon)

[A.N: the full story is now fixed! Enjoy reading!]

Mom said hugs heal all hurts yet told Jawbreaker not to give Mirage a hug unless he asks, which didn't look like it'll happen anytime soon. So how can Jawbreaker help make the Diaz Terran get comfortable with the Maltos?

“Let him help you find an alt mode,” Hashtag suggested, “with the power of cinema!” she gestured at the video camera JB was holding.

The next thing Jawbreaker knew he was holding Dad’s tablet reading interview questions prepared by Hashtag while Mirage sat next to him, confused out of his mind.

Even though the whole take went awkwardly, Mirage shared that he simply wanted his alt mode to look pretty and that he did not think much of its function. Having a pretty alt mode sounds nice, thought JB, but he did not want it to be just pretty. He wanted his alt mode to be… He has no idea.

So Hashtag brought him and Mirage to see Megatron and Elita-One.

Though still feeling lost, JB took Elita’s advice to spark that his alt mode didn’t need to be a vehicle. He also noticed that she kept staring strangely at Mirage to which he asked her about it. The Autobot answered it was nothing.

After Nightshade chose an owl alt mode, it clicked to Jawbreaker that he could choose to have a beast form. However, every large animal photo he went through did not resonate his spark still. While his siblings stop pushing him to keep searching, Mirage kept suggesting whatever large animal that seemed most suitable for JB. He appreciated it a lot but his indulgence ran out of enthusiasm eventually.

On one late night Jawbreaker went to the cow paddock alone, his mind empty whilst his spark continued to long for an alt mode he has yet to have. He thought he’d be alone with the cows. To his surprise, Mirage was there as well, staring longingly at the night sky.

“What are you doing?” asked JB.

“Night sky-watching.” Mirage answered.

“You mean stargazing?” Twitch and Thrash said they’ve done it many times before knowing how to sleep.

“No. I’m looking at everything in the sky. The moon, the clouds and the stars, too.”

It made sense. “Can I join?”

Mirage appeared hesitant. “I don’t want to talk right now…”

“It’s okay. We can night sky-watching together.” Jawbreaker heard from Dad that if someone didn’t want to talk didn’t always mean they were refusing company. Maybe Mirage needed one now.

It turned out he did. He thanked the bulky Malto and two watched the night sky for hours on end.

They did it again on the following night after Bumblebee’s ruined race (after Twitch hurt Mirage). And again to calm down after the not-so-peaceful lesson at the Spacebridge Memorial. And for the last time when Mom and JB’s sisters brought him back after the terrifying incident in the city, this time with Hashtag and Nightshade accompanying them both.

Jawbreaker couldn’t understand why Thrash did not like Mirage Diaz. The ‘envy’ in their link hurt. His triplets agreed. Hashtag was very upset at Thrash whereas Nightshade advised her and JB to not be harsh on their big brother even though Nightshade was upset at him, too.

On the day when Mirage was about to leave with his family for New York, Jawbreaker promised to inform him whenever he finally gets an alt mode. When they meet again weeks later, the now orange and spiky JB ran to him in excitement and transformed.

“My favorite dinosaur!” Mirage hugged stygi Jawbreaker by the neck and squealed in pure delight. Jawbreaker curled tighter to the embrace, feeling happy himself.

[hyunsvngs]

I just read the thoughts about SKZ experience and I have thoughts

Chan: he started training really young and if the rumors are true he went through puberty late. I think lost his virginity a bit later than most, but he’s definitely got some experience at this point. He’s so charismatic and kind that I feel it’s easy for him to attract a partner. I do think he is very selective with who he sleeps with though. He’s a busy man, so he has to know you’re worth his time.

Minho: no chance he’s a virgin. He lost his virginity predebut. I think he has good experience with both people with vaginas and people with penises.

Changbin: gets the most bitches. He is a whore especially since he got bigger. Nothing wrong with that by the way. He’s just in his Hoe era and he doesn’t plan on leaving anytime soon.

Hyunjin: he gives me waiting until marriage vibes. He’s had plenty of opportunity to have sex, but he chooses to wait for that special someone. If he has lost his virginity, his body count is very small because he has high standards.

Jisung: agree that he could possibly be a virgin. If he was a virgin or inexperienced in general at the start of debut, I think Minho may have helped him. Just gave him some guidance on how to enjoy himself with and without a partner.

Felix: I fully believe that Felix experimented and discovered he liked men before moving to Korea. I don’t have specific ideas, but I don’t think he’s a virgin

Seungmin: high standards, so body count isn’t extremely high, but he definitely fucks. I feel like he is a very desired partner amongst kpop idols.

Jeongin: I don’t think he’s a virgin, but I see where he could be. I feel like he is a firm believer that sex is for adults and wanted to be an adult before trying to be that intimate with someone. And maybe the opportunities just keep passing with how busy they are.

Ultimately, they’re all very much adults at this point, so it’s not unlikely that they are all getting their dicks wet on the regular

Those are my thoughts

- 🥃anon

I AGREE WITH ALL OF THESE APART FROOOOM BINI. I THINK BINI IS A SWEETHEART WHO LIKES TO HOMD HANDS AND GO ON LLONG WALKS ON THE BESHC

[racerchix21]

Shovel Talk: Harbor Edition

Summary: “Thomas Jude Kinard, I know for a fact that your friends didn’t threaten to kill me if I hurt you just for you to leave me,” Buck growls out standing next to Tommy’s hospital bed. “I love you dammit and I need you to always come home to me. Got it Kinard? You can’t leave me. Not now, not ever.”

Aka 3 times Buck met one of Tommy’s friends and an ex boyfriend and they threatened him without Tommy knowing and 1 time Buck finally tells Tommy what his friend are doing and says those 3 little words.

He’d been standing just outside the hangar talking to one of Tommy’s coworkers when they’d heard the crash and when he’d turned around he was greeted with the sight of a downed chopper and Tommy trying to drag Lucy out. What followed led them here to this moment in a hospital room.

Now he doesn’t mean to blurt out that Lucy, Carson and Sal had threatened him when they’d run into them or met up with in Sal’s case. What makes him finally say something is because he can’t stand to see Tommy’s little frown when he comes to and realizes that Evan’s the only one who seems to care that he’s potentially injured. Not that Lucy’s in any position to be there even if she wanted to be not with a broken ankle and a concussion.

“Thomas Jude Kinard, I know for a fact that your friends didn’t threaten to kill me if I hurt you just for you to leave me,” Buck growls out standing next to Tommy’s hospital bed. “I love you dammit and I need you to always come home to me. Got it Kinard? You can’t leave me. Not now, not ever.”

“They did? I didnt think anyone really cared,” Tommy says in disbelief. “I’m sorry if I scared you baby. It was literally supposed to be a routine test flight for the new chopper and instead we wrecked it trying to take off. I don’t have any plans of leaving you anytime soon and I’m sorry you had to watch us wreck.”

“I know Tommy and I’m glad that you and Lucy weren’t more seriously injured. Doesn’t mean it didn’t scare the shit out of me though. Now I’m gonna go see about getting your discharge papers and then we’ll go home and relax.”

“Evan, wait… I love you,” Tommy calls as Buck starts to walk out the door. He never says ‘I love you too’ it’s always ‘I love you’ and today isn’t gonna be any different. He needs Evan to know that he’s choosing him everyday.

“I know honey. Now hang tight and I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go ahead and see if Sal can’t go ahead and pick us up okay?”

Buck doesn’t wanna think about how terrified he was seeing Tommy and Lucy’s chopper hit the ground as soon as they’d tried to take off but he’s grateful no one was killed. He walks out to find a nurse and to make sure that Tommy won’t see him cry again. As he makes his way down the hall he also sends out a mass text to update everyone and to ask Sal to come pick them up since he’s only in town one more night. They’d been planning dinner which is why he’d been at Harbor when the crash happened.

****

When he walks back into Tommy’s room with a nurse they find him trying to get dressed and failing spectacularly. The laugh he lets out and the nurse’s horrified “Mr. Kinard!” startle Tommy bad enough that he falls backwards onto the bed sending Buck into another round of laughter.

“It’s not what it looks like, I swear,” Tommy whines. “I just wanna get outta here and because this gown really doesn’t close in the back.”

“T, I don’t see an issue with it not closing in the back,” Buck says shrugging “sorry Alesia.”

“I’ve heard worse believe me Buckley,” Alesia says before glaring at Tommy again. “Now Mr. Kinard I don’t mind you wanting to get out of here but at least let your man help you get dressed. You’ve got a dislocated shoulder and I really don’t wanna have to keep you for longer because you got impatient. I’m gonna go grab the last of your papers and then we can get you to your ride.”

***

Now he’s laying in Evan’s arms as he’s regaled with how Tommy’s people how threatened him over the last couple of months.

1. Lucy Donato his co-pilot

Two months ago

Lucy likes Buck, don’t get her wrong. She drunkenly kissed the guy for gods sake but the idea of Evan Buckley being all in on this new exciting relationship with her partner is hard to believe as quickly as he had. In the 2 years she’s been Tommy’s co-pilot she knows the guy puts his heart into everything he does from rescues to falling in love. She’d possibly claim that Tommy Kinard was a close friend but it’s hard not to be given the fact she spends more time with him than her own fiancée.

She was only apart of the 118 for a few weeks before she got hurt and then transferred to Harbor but in the time she was there she got to see many versions of Evan Buckley.

Lucy’d saw his recklessness, his love and protectiveness of his family, she saw the way he lit up around kids and how he’d bounce around like the golden retriever Hen was always accusing him of being.

What she’d never seen before was how settled Evan Buckley was when he came to see Tommy at work. He was the polar opposite of everything she’d ever experienced as his work partner and she had to admit that this version of him even had her endeared.

But it wasn’t just Buck that seemed to be more settled and happy, Tommy was just as smitten. She could’ve sworn that she heard him humming once in the break room but as soon as the guy saw she was walking in it had stopped.

She runs into Buck one morning going on her morning run and decides she’s gonna warn him about what’s gonna happen if he breaks Tommy’s heart. She doesn’t even give him a chance to say anything as she runs up beside him, “Buckley, if you even think about hurting Tommy I will find you and I will murder you. Then I’ll hide your body so well that even Athena won’t be able to find it.”

2. Carson Hayes his ex boyfriend

Carson met Tommy at the scene of a car accident. His accident to be more specific. The roof of his truck was caved in a way that he couldn’t move more than a few inches and he’d begun to panic until a handsome firefighter with the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen walked up and started asking him questions. He doesn’t wanna say it was love at first sight because it was more gratitude for surviving the wreck but he did ask the guy what his name was once he’d been treated and then he asked Tommy on a date.

They’d lasted exactly 4 months before Tommy’s job got to be too much and Carson had gotten scared. They’d been out to dinner when a man walked up to thank Tommy for saving him from a huge fire a few days before. The guy had regaled Carson with Tommy’s reckless disregard for his own safety when he’d taken off his helmet in order to get a young girl to trust him. The idea of his boyfriend running into burning buildings and taking the chance of being killed scared the shit out of him so when they’d gotten back to Tommy’s place Carson had gently tried to break up with him.

He was never gonna make Tommy choose between his job and them so he’d done what he had to. Besides it had been pretty obvious that none of Tommy’s friends had liked him much and if he was being honest he wasn’t sure if he and Tommy were truly “in love” or if they were just fucking around for the hell of it.

Now looking back he’s glad they did because he met the love of his life and Tommy very apparently had met his if the dirty blonde on his arm is anything to go by. He’s trying to pull Josh to the other side of the bar when his husband lets go of his hand to make his way over to where Tommy and his date are sitting.

“Babe? Babe, where the hell are you going,” Carson asks scrambling to catch up.

“That’s Maddie’s little brother Buck,” Josh answers slowing down enough Carson can grab his hand again. “I figured we could go say hi real quick then we can go. Besides Maddie mentioned that Buck was really happy now and I wanted to officially meet his new guy.”

“It’s funny because I could’ve sworn I saw my ex boyfriend over here. It looked like he was on a date though.”

“What are the chances that they’re here together? Well regardless let’s go say hi and then we can go home, okay?”

Approaching the table, Carson’s shocked to see Tommy sitting there with Buck. He’s not surprised though at the fact that Tommy quickly excuses himself. They hadn’t ended on fantastic terms no matter how gentle he’d tried to end things. He’d made eye contact with Tommy before he’d run off and now he feels bad about interrupting.

“Buck you said your name was,” and at Buck’s nod he continues “try not to break his heart. He’s one of the good ones and he deserves nothing short of the best. I dated him a few months and I’ll admit that I got scared of his job and broke his heart so please be careful with it.”

Carson doesn’t even wait for Buck to say anything before he’s grabbing Josh’s hand to drag him out to their car.

3. Sal Deluca his best friend and the final boss

Sal’ll admit that he wasn’t the greatest guy when he worked for the 118 but in the years since he talked himself out of a job and got transferred he’s grown as a person. Getting married, having a couple kids and moving to Idaho to become an arson investigator can do that for a man. Add in the fact that his best friend from his time in LA with the 118 had come out to him 5 years ago and suddenly he was seeing things in a different light. Gone was the man making homophobic and racist jokes and comments at every opportunity and in his place stood a man who was learning how harmful those words could be.

The idea that Tommy Kinard, one of the best firefighters he’d ever worked with, was gay wasn’t not something Sal expected. He was just happy that Tommy was finally getting to be the most authentic version of himself. A version of Tommy who was finally comfortable in his own skin was all he’d ever wanted for the man.

When he heard about the cruise ship disaster and his old crews role in the rescue he was a little shocked. Finding out about who’d voluntarily flown them into the hurricane was what had thrown him for the biggest loop but it also made him laugh because of course Kinard with his too big heart of gold would do something like that. The man was loyal to a fault if all the stars aligned properly and he’d do anything to protect the people he cared about even if he hadn’t been apart of the 118 in years.

He’s not expecting Tommy to call him especially since they hadn’t talked much Sal had moved but he’s curious about the insanity of the rescue so he answers.

“Thomas. What had you calling me on this lovely morning,” Sal asks as soon as he answers.

“Salvatore, I know that your day is going great with that huge fire in Blackfoot and all those casualties,” Tommy sarcastically says. “I called to check in but mostly I needed to tell someone about this cute guy I met. I don’t have anyone that I’m super close with anymore here in LA and I figured you’re far enough away to not know who he is.”

“Wait you met a guy? Like an actual living breathing human,” he teases. “What this pretty man’s name?”

“Evan. Evan Buckley. Sal he’s really new to this whole dating a man thing but he’s so sweet and eager to learn,” Tommy says with dreamy airy quality to his voice. “He’s a firefighter so he gets that the job is dangerous and that I might not be able to always answer my phone at work.”

“You’re dating Evan Buckley as in the same Evan Buckley who got struck by lightning and died before they brought him back?”

“Yes the same one if you must know.”

“So tell me more about this Evan Buckley guy,” Sal encourages as leans back in his chair and kicks his feet up on the desk. Look no one’s ever accused him of not being a gossip about anything and he was kind of intrigued by the excitement in Tommy’s voice as he rambled on for 20 minutes. He hates to cut his friend off but he’s up to his neck in paperwork and other investigation requirements that need his immediate attention so he quickly tells Tommy they’ll have to get together for drinks when he’s in LA again and hangs up.

He calls his wife as he walks out to his truck to head to the first scene and plans a quick trip to visit old friends back home and texts Tommy a date to hang out again.

***

Walking into a badge and ladder bar in downtown LA is not how Sal pictured his first day back in the city going but he was eager to meet Tommy’s new boyfriend. He wanted to make sure that Evan was good enough for his best friend but that he also knew the consequences of breaking Tommy’s heart.

Sitting at a high top table he spots Tommy and another guy long before Tommy clocks him. He has to admit that the man who walks behind his best friend is hot as hell and the closer they get the more Sal finds himself admiring the guy. Hell who’s he kidding Tommy’s looking bigger and hotter than he did when they were both still working together. He’s so lost in his haze and internal monologue that he completely misses them walking up until Tommy shakes his shoulder and he startled so hard he manages to slosh half of his beer across the table.

“Sal, I know Evan’s hotter than the sun but I didn’t realize you’d be freak enough to waste beer,” Tommy jokingly says wrapping an arm around his boyfriends waist. “Babe, this is Sal Deluca an old friend from my 118 days. He and I were both terrorized by Maurice the chicken back around the time Bobby started out as our Captain. Sal, this is my boyfriend Evan Buckley.”

“So you’re Deluca, huh,” Buck says in lieu of a greeting. “I’ve heard a lot about you since I started working with Bobby, Hen and Chim. This guy has told me a few things about you too but I’m eager to see how much is true.”

“All good things I hope,” Sal laughs nervously because what if they’ve told Evan how shitty of a person he was back then? He’s a changed man dammit and he really shouldn’t care this much whether or not this guy like him. Regardless he holds eye contact with the blonde and hopes to god he looks more confident than he feels.

“Most of them have been yes. I’ve heard some not so flattering things about a younger you but don’t worry Tommy’s told me how great of a friend you are and how good a man you’ve become since Bobby fired you,” Buck says looking back just as intensely. “Don’t worry man I don’t have anything against you. I trust their judgement about who you were before versus who you are now.”

Tommy hates to break up their little staring contest but he’d really like to spend time with both his boyfriend and his best friend so he presses a kiss to the side of Evan’s temple to get his attention. “Babe, I’m gonna go get us drinks so I’ll be right back. I’ll get you the regular and for you Salvatore I’ll buy you the sweetest fruitiest cocktail they have. I know much you love the sweet stuff buddy.”

“Thomas I swear to god,” Sal growls playfully as Tommy walks away laughing. When he sees that Tommy’s far enough away to not overhear him he turns his attention to Buck again. “Evan I just want you to know how much it means to me to see Tommy happy again. The man deserves the world and I trust that you’ll treat his heart with all the love and care you can. He seems to be more comfortable with being himself when you’re around and he talks about you all the time. You’re already significantly better than most of his exes which looking back isn’t all that difficult. With that being said though I need you to know that I can and will make your life a living hell if you break his heart. I also know how to make an arson look like an accident so if you hurt him or make him cry I can also make your death look like a freak accident, do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Wonderful then so tell me more about what the 118’s been getting into recently.”

Tagging: @tommykinard6 @emilybahu @scknight05 @buck348 @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @ohlookitsthearkhamknight @princesseddiediaz @all-da-fandoms @mymistakewriting @hummelinski @fandomiseveryth1ng @i-am-married-to-my-fandom @ballistari22 @obsessivebisexual4tevan

[hardcandycigarette]

Long Way Down PART Three

LONG WAY DOWN PART 3

Welp, the Styles family isn’t doing great without Y/N, and Auntie Gemma has a few opinions. We’ve got more fluff and dad!rry here. Once we get to Part Four we are back to some angst and more feels.

Stick with it guys. And thanks to everyone who has given such positive feedback. It makes my day to hear from you.

Word Count 6.7K

Warnings-  a few curse words. If I missed a warning let me know.

“All right, thanks.” Harry taps the screen on his phone to end the call. “He slings it on the coffee table. Shaking his head, he lies back on the sofa. “Not at her mother’s, sisters’, or Julia’s.”

“We have spoken to everyone in her most intimate circle of friends and family, so do you have anyone else in mind?” Gemma asks.

His ring-clad fingers run through his messy hair as he throws his head back, face toward the ceiling with his eyes closed. “She had everything she wanted, Gem. All of it: houses, cars, love, money, and babies, she had everything she could possibly desire.“

"It’s not everything, you know. I am sure you are aware of that. I think you can let go of that story now.”

“What do you mean by that, Gemma?”

“There’s a shocker. It appears you didn’t listen to what she was saying to you.”

Taking a deep breath, he lifts his head and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In fact, I was listening to what she said. I told you almost word-for-word everything she said.”

“Harry, she told you she needed you. She wants you, her husband.” She points to the hallway. “They need you.”

I’m on a break, not going on tour anytime soon.“

“What’s a while, Harry? A week, a month, a day? She never knows.”

“A while. I dunno.” He shrugs. “After Manchester, contracts are over.”

“Oh, get off it. That means nothing. Numerous contracts have ended, but the outcome is always the same. A signed contract, a new album, a new tour. Or three, then of course throw in a movie or two for good measure. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.”

“It’s m’ job Gem. Just because my job doesn’t look like everyone else’s doesn’t mean it’s not a job. Gotta feed m’ family, gotta pay for all this.” He raises his hands and makes a sweeping motion around the room.

She shakes her head. “It’s a job, but is it also a way for you to have your cake and eat it too?“

“What?” he scoffs.

“You have the beautiful wife, incredible children, and the comfort of knowing that someone is there for you 24/7. There’s also the glitz, fame, millions of people adoring you, and tons of money too. Pretty nice setup if you ask me.”

"Well, I didn’t and you’re full of shit, that’s what you are.” He points at her as he stands, then places his hands on his hips as he stares at the ground.

“Oh, you wish I was full shit.”

“Are you saying I was wrong? Should I have never married the woman I love and never had a family?”

“No, I’m saying you should think about what she wants and needs. Loads of people have jobs in the music industry that don’t take them constantly away from their families. She needs you to be present. She wants to know her husband isn’t writing a song in his head or doesn’t need to go meet with Jeff or whatever it is you do.“ She waves her hand.

"Whatever it is I do?”

“Yes, whatever it is, you do. You realize they need to eat soon.” She nods toward the kids’ rooms.

“Okay, well, let’s get that sorted.” He picks up his phone.

“Is Y/N still breastfeeding?”

“Weaning, but we have milk too.”

Gemma picks up the mugs, napkins, and the plate with one last biscuit and walks to the kitchen. Harry thumbs at the screen of his phone.

When she returns, she says, “The kitchen’s still a mess, isn’t it?”

“I cleaned it.” Harry stares at his phone.

“That’s not clean, Harry.”

“”Tis.”

“No, that’s half-assed,” she says.

Harry doesn’t look up.

“What did you order?”

He shakes his head as he focuses on the phone and scrolls.

“I don’t know what to order.”

“Just choose something. It’s not life-altering.”

Harry stands and leaves the room, heading to Y/N’s office.

When he returns, he carries a thick, heavy binder. "So bloody much.” He drops it on the coffee table and sits.

“Jesus, Harry, gonna break the flippin’ glass off the table. What is that?”

The deep red binder is a 4-inch, 3-ring binder. It’s open, laid flat on the table. It has three color-coded sections: purple, yellow, and blue. “This binder- is filled with everything we could possibly need to know about m’ kids.”

Gemma shakes her head. "No, things you need to know about your kids. Your kids Harry, things you need to know, do you hear yourself?”

His eyes are fixed on the binder as he flips through it, but he doesn’t respond. “Gemma. Each child has their own color. She has their likes and dislikes, allergies, movies they hate, songs they like, ways to calm ‘em down, and discipline that works. She also knows when to take it easy on them and when to be stern. She’s even got their favorite clothes.”

“Well, numb nuts, learning anything?”

He rolls his eyes and nods. “Yeah, but it’s so much.” He closes the book and picks up the phone. He punches around on the screen, scrolling once again.

Gemma reaches across the table, picks up the binder, and places it on her lap. She turns the pages, stopping on certain ones to skim the page.

After a few minutes, Harry puts his phone on the table. “Got it. 20 minutes it’ll be here.” He lays his head back against the sofa.

“Did you decide to order by looking at this?”

He chuckles. “No, I actually know what they like from The Dragon.” He sits up and gets his phone. “Gotta call Winifred, make sure she’s coming tomorrow.”

“It’s Sunday.”

“Yeah, she started comin’ on Sundays to get us setup for the week, and she has some sorta smthn she likes to do on Mondays.” He picks up the phone and dials the number. Soon there is someone else on the other end. “Yes, Winifred. It’s Mr. Styl-. Yes, I know it must be a surprise to hear from me. Look, I was calling to make sure you will be here tomorrow. I’m sorry, say again. Yeah, train stations can be quite loud. Oh, she did? No, I think there must’ve been a misunderstanding. Y/N is not available at the moment, so that must be a mistake. Really? Well, it would be really lovely if you could come in. Oh, of course, yes. I’m sorry to bother you, and please enjoy your time. We’ll see you when you get back. Take care.” Harry hits the red button on the phone’s screen.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Gemma glances up from a binder. She almost laughs at his overreaction to everything. “What now?”

“The housekeeper, Winifred? She’s at the train station, so she won’t be here this week. Y/N called and told her she could have a paid week off so she could visit her family.“

Now Gemma really wants to laugh. Well done, Y/N.

“What now, Gem?”

"I don’t know, Harry.” She turns a page in the binder, not even caring what she reads, just doesn’t want to look at Harry.

“Listen, there’s plenty of space. Maybe you could stay and-“

She shakes her head, “No, absolutely not.”

“C’mon, Gemma, I need ya.’”

“No, I can’t. I have work. Tomorrow is a super busy day. I’ve got to set my own self up for the week. And what you need to do is listen to your wife.”

“I’m callin’ her again. I mean callin’ her, not textin’ this time.”

Gemma notices that whenever he feels excited about something, good or bad, his hometown accent pops up, especially in private.

He dials Y/N. In seconds he hangs up the phone. “Voicemail.”

“Must’ve turned it off,” Gemma replies.

“Or maybe the battery died.”

"Maybe. Okay, so you don’t have Y/N. That’s a given. Winifred won’t be here, and I’m not staying, so what’s your plan?”

“She’ll be back tomorrow. Won’t be able to stay away from the kids longer than that.“ He stares at the floor. “Where could she be?”

The two are quiet for a long time.

Gemma breaks the silence. "Did you know that Lola will only eat peas if you mix them in applesauce? Strange combo, but she is your child, so strange comes naturally, I suppose.”

“What?”

“Lola, her pea, applesauce combo?”

“Yeah. That started sometime when I was on tour.”

A cry from the nursery pierces the air. Harry stands and jogs down the hall. She follows closely behind him. He pushes Archer’s door open. It appears the three kids were playing on the floor until a moment ago.

Harry picks up a crying Lola. “What’s this all about, huh? Wha’s m’ girl cryin’ for?” He kisses her head and pulls her close. Tears, drool, and snot drip down her face like a little waterfall. “What happen’?” Harry asks the other two.

“Nothing, Daddy,” Archer says.

“Well, somethin’ obv’sly happen,’ or she wouldn’t be cryin’ like this, would she?”

“She’s a baby,” Poppy answers as she rolls a toy truck along the rug.

Gemma stands at the door.

“We were just playing Dad, just rolling the ball like we were when you and Auntie Gemma left,” Archer says.

Harry walks to the changing table and grabs a burp cloth to wipe Lola’s face. “Told you to be gentle with her. She’s just now sittin’ and playin’ without fallin’ ver all the time. Gotta be careful. Can’t have been five minutes since we left ya’ in here.”

“We were nice, Daddy. She didn’t even fall over,” Archer points out.

“Oh my goodness, my sweet girl, you’re burnin’ up.” Harry cuddles her even tighter.

Gemma extends her arms toward the baby as she approaches. “Let me see Harry, so over the top all the time. She’s probably just a bit warm.” She takes the baby in her arms and places her hand on her face. "Jesus, Harry, she is like a stove.”

“See, I told you she was hot. Oh, you’re so dramatic, Harry, quit bein’ over the top, Harry,” he mocks. The gate buzzes. “Must be the food- that was fast.”

“Not really; we’ve been in the living room for a while, just not talking.”

“Shove it with semantics, Gemma.” Harry walks past Gemma, down the hall, and out the front door.

“Soups on people. Whoever wants to eat,” he calls from the living room.

The kids run to the front of the house, where they find Harry carrying two large white paper shopping bags. Lola is in Gemma’s arms, still sniffling and whimpering . The scent of warm spices wafts through the room. “Smells delicious,” Gemma says.

“What is it, Daddy?” Poppy asks.

“The Dragon.”

It’s not called The Dragon, but that’s what the kids call the Asian restaurant the family frequents.

Lola continues to cry. “I’ll take her temperature. I’ll be back.” Gemma says, then turns and leaves the room.

“Okay, follow me to the kitchen. We aren’t gonna mess up Mummy’s pretty dining room table tonight.”

“She’s not here,” Poppy replies.

"Still, we aren’t going to mess up her table.”

Archer, Poppy, and Harry walk to the breakfast nook. He places the bags on the table, opens them, and begins revealing the night’s offerings. The kitchen light is on, but not over the table. He reaches up and pulls the string to the light as the kids sit, eager to eat. He puts two white cardboard containers on the table. Archer reaches over.

“S’cuse me, wait, please.“ Harry rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Sorry.”

Two more containers are removed, followed by two more. The second bag contains three more containers, cutlery, napkins, and plates. The children sit quietly, fidgeting, waiting to dig in. He walks behind them and pulls the frilly blue curtains closed. "We aren’t usually here at night, are we? Didn’t close ‘em this afternoon. Need to keep these closed.”

“Why?” Poppy asks.

"So the psychos can’t see us.”

“What’s psycho?”

“Archer, tha’s not a polite word,” Harry says.

“You say it. Cause Dad’s famous.”

“Famous?”

“Lots of people know him because of his singing,” Archer says.

Walking back to the other side of the table, Harry sighs. He opens two containers. “We have yours here, Poppy. Chicken fried rice, one piece of chicken, and one egg roll.” He opens the container, puts some on a plate, and hands her a fork and spoon. “Archer, shrimp, and no rice, with tons of veggies and one egg roll. You like the things I like. Good boy.” He serves him a plate.

Gemma returns and rests against the counter. “Not as high as I thought, probably just got too warm, but she does have a bit of a fever. What do you usually give her?”

"It’s in our bathroom, the medicine cabinet, the one by the sink on the right side.”

Gemma motions with her hand. "C'mon, you can do it. What’s it called, Harry?”

“Where is she?”

“In her crib.”

“Is she still cryin’? Wha’d ya leave her for?”

Gemma rolls her eyes. “I’m on my way back. Tell me about the medicine.”

“It’s red liquid. Never mind, I’ll get it.” Harry exits the kitchen and heads toward the children’s rooms.

Gemma walks over to the table. “Wow, this looks delicious and smells wonderful.” She sits with the kids for a moment before serving herself.

                                                                       ###

“Okay, she’s down. It took her a while, but she fell asleep,“ Harry says as he returns to the kitchen.

Gemma throws away the dirty plates, cups, and containers. "She alright?”

“Yeah.” Harry’s reply is curt.

“It was so yummy, Daddy,” Poppy says.

“Good, baby. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Is it time for ice cream?” Archer asks.

Harry sits. “Let me finish my food, mate.”

“Yeah, mate,” Poppy says as she stands in her seat.

“Poppy, when did all this standin’ on furniture start? Bottom. Seat. Now” He points to the bench beneath her.

Poppy sits.

“So, let me see, which one did I order? Ah, here it is.” Harry picks up the container and opens it to find room-temperature food. He gives a slight pout and then shrugs. “Eaten worse.” He serves himself. Before he sat, he was famished, but after four bites, he’s lost his desire for the meal.

Gemma wipes the countertops and going back over Harry’s previous kitchen cleanup. He covers the container of food and pushes it to the side. “Maybe I’ll want this later.” He stands, walks to the trash, and drops his plate in.

“Can we have ice cream now?” Archer asks.

“What?”

“You said we could have ice cream after dinner.”

“Oh yeah.” He walks to the fridge and opens the freezer door. “Gemma, you don’t have to clean that.“

“Don’t mind,” she answers.

He studies the freezer. "No ice cream; looks like we’re out.”

“But you promised.”

“I know, dude, but I didn’t know we didn’t have any.”

“Ice cream, Daddy,” Poppy calls out.

“Said we’re out, din’, I?”

“Can we go get some?” Archer asks.

Harry stares into the freezer, willing the ice cream to appear. “What? No, we’re not venturing out for ice cream.”

“But you promised.”

Harry walks over to Archer, leans over, and places his hand on the table. “Said we were out, that we’re not gonna go for any. Archer, you know you have really tried my patience today. Shudn’t give you any just based on your behavior, so when I say we’re out, that’s it. Full stop.“

Archer starts to cry.

“Now, we’re not cryin’. Normally, I understand, but today you’ve not been at your best, so I’ll see what we’ve got for a treat, but we’re not havin’ ice cream, and the cryin’ can stop.”

Harry walks to the pantry. Archer stops but still sniffles as he wipes his face on his shirt.

“Do you think Sarah would know? Where she is, I mean.” Gemma asks.

“Don’t think so.” Harry takes a bag of biscuits off the shelf and gives it to the children. "Two. You can each have two.” He puts two fingers in the air, opens the package, then sets it down before he turns to Gemma. He leans against the table, arms folded across his chest, legs crossed at the ankle. The children dig into the bag of biscuits.

“I don’t think she would know and I wouldn’t really wanna call ‘er, just yet because then she’ll tell Mitch, that blabber mouth will tell someone else.”

“He’s your closest mate, Harry.”

“But can’t keep a secret for shit.” Harry laughs. “Then Jeff is calling soon and he wants to know about my life story.”

"Well, then, my baby brother, what’s your plan?”

He straightens his posture, walks to Gemma, and then leans on the counter next to the sink. “Don’t have one, Gem. I don’t. I didn’t ever picture her leavin’ me, especially not knowin’ where she is.” He keeps his voice low, then drops to a whisper. “It’s scaring me,Sis.”

“I am so sorry this happened, Harry. I really am. I wish I knew what to say.” She finishes washing her hands and then dries them on a kitchen towel.

"If you can’t stay, and I understand you have work, then I’ve got to call Mum. She could leave in the morning and be here sometime in the afternoon.”

“Can’t. She’s on some kind of retreat. Tried to call her on my way over.”

"Dammit, Gemma, I told you I wasn’t callin’ her yet.”

"Calm your britches, hot pants. I was calling her about something else.”

Harry shrugs. “Okay, well then, it looks like ’m on m’ own tomorrow.”

She nods toward the children. "Want me to stay for their baths and help put them to bed?”

“Nah, yeh alright, I’ll do it.” He opens his arms and reaches over for a hug.

She embraces her brother.

“She’s coming back, right, Gem?”

“You’re gonna be fine, Harry. All of you.“

                                                          ###

Lola’s cries jolt Harry awake at 3 AM. After being fussy all night, she’s only been down for four hours. Getting up with her at night is nothing new to him. When he’s home, he’s always the first one up with the kids at night. Nevertheless, a good night’s sleep would be welcome. Getting up, he walks towards Lola’s room.

The nightlight guides him to her bed once he’s in her room. As he picks her up, he bends over and kisses her. Holding her close, he rubs her back. "Shhh. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

She cries and chews on her hand. “Dada.”

‘”Yeah, Dada’s got you. Let’s go change your diaper, shall we? Maybe that’s what you need.“ He walks to her changing table, lies her down, and cleans her up while she cries. Singing Adore You, he smiles at her. “Walk through fire for you. Just let me adore you,” He stops singing. “And darling, Daddy would walk through fire for you. He would do anything for you. I hope you always know that for the rest of your life.” When he is finished changing her, he picks her up and places her head on his shoulder.

For a moment, her cries soften, but soon they rip through the room again. “Let’s get your lovie, okay?” He walks to her crib to get her stuffed turtle, but he doesn’t see it. His hand reaches out and grabs a stuffed frog from her dresser for her to cuddle. She throws it on the ground as he sits in the chair. After picking it up, he gives it to her and begins rocking her. Still crying, she throws it again. Oh baby, why don’t we take your temperature? You don’t seem to be too hot, but let’s check.” He reaches over to the changing table and pulls out the thermometer. “Sit still for a minute, my angel. Daddy will be super quick.” He takes her temperature. It reads 100.6, which isn’t ideal but isn’t alarming. We’ll get you some medicine to help bring down your fever, okay?“

He stands and carries the baby back to his and Y/N’s bedroom. Once there, they walk to the bathroom, get the medicine, and in no surprise twist, she spits half of it out. Harry does not want to give her anything else to make up for what she has spit out. "Oh, that’s not very helpful, is it? You need all your medicine.” As the baby continues to cry, he walks the floor with her, jostling her just a bit. “Where’s your cute frog, huh? Where has he gone?” He carries the baby only to find the frog on the hallway floor. Her tiny chest releases a rough, rattled cough.

He picks up the stuffed frog and hands it to her. She throws it down. Harry gives up and leaves it there. Once back in the bedroom, he sits on the bed and turns on the TV. He’s not watching it, but it’s just something to drown out the silence filled only with Lola’s cries and the most recent addition of a cough. It doesn’t appear she’s about to quiet down anytime soon. Almost an hour after she woke up, Lola finally falls asleep on his chest. In the absence of her cries, Harry has drifted off as well. He wakes up to see the baby is finally calm. He lays the baby in the spot where his wife usually sleeps, covers half of her with a sheet, turns off the television, and falls asleep.

                                                          ###

A knock at the door startles him awake. He glances at the clock. It is 7:33. “Yes.” he croaks.

“Daddy.”.

“Yes.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

She walks over to the bed. “Why’s Lola in here?”

“She was feeling sick last night, so Daddy brought her in here.”

She pouts and looks at the floor. “Not fair.”

“What?”

She points to the baby. “She gets to be in here.”

“Well, I’m sorry, love, but don’t I always bring you in here when you’re sick?”

She looks at the ground. “Or stay in my room.”

“That’s right, but we’re always together if you’re sick, aren’t we?”

“Uh-huh.” She nods, then struggles to climb up on the bed with Harry and Lola, grabbing at the fluffy, white duvet..

"Here, Popscicle, let Daddy help, but walk over to my side- don’t want you falling on top of the baby.”

Poppy walks over to Harry, and he picks her up. She crawls over and plops down hard on his abdomen.

“UH, God, don’t kill me, kid. Don’t mind you comin’ up here but don’t need you playin’ so rough.”

“Sorry, Papa.”

He closes his eyes, but Poppy leans over, pushing his cheeks together. “You have a beard. It sticks.”

“Not quite a full beard but kind of, yeah.“ He rubs his nose while his eyes remain closed, then rests his hand above his head on the pillow. .

“Why?”

“It’s my time off, so I haven’t wanted to shave.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Sorry, I’ll consult you next time.”

“What?” She pulls the claw clip out of his hair, then tugs on his ear.

"Okay, Pop, let’s be calm.” He pats her on the hip. “We don’t need so much activity th’s early, do we?”

She grabs his large, bare hands. "Where are your rings?”

“Don’t need ‘em to sleep.”

Lola begins to whimper, but Harry places his hand on her. “Shh, Daddy’s here.” Her cries grow a little stronger just as there is a knock at the door, even though the door is open.

“Come in, Archer.”

“How’d ya’ know it was me?” He walks over to the bed.

“Didn’t figure a robber was knockin’ on the door, did I?

Archer climbs onto the foot of the bed and walks over to Harry and Poppy. "Archer, crawl or scoot, please before you-”

And before Harry can finish, the boy loses his balance and falls on Lola’s leg. She screams shrill and loud. The boy scurries away from her.

Now Harry’s eyes are open. “What is wrong with you?“ Told ya a million times to be careful ‘round the baby.” Harry sits up, then lifts Lola into his arms, soothing her with soft words and a back rub. "Why are you lot like a very adorable but ruthless gang?”

“What?” Archer asks.

“Said you’re adorable but complete chaos, don’t mind the rules, and act mean to people, like a gang, aren’t ya?”

“Did Mummy call?” Archer asks. “Did she?”

Harry hadn’t planned ahead for the question, partially because he hoped Y/N would come home or, at a minimum, actually call. "She’s fine. She is resting, just like I told you.”

“Will she call later?” Poppy asks.

“Not sure.” The baby continues to cry, though she’s much quieter now. “Alright, I’ll get Lola changed and freshened up since we’re all awake. You two go brush your teeth and wash your faces.”

Archer jumps off the bed but remains on his feet for only a second before landing on his knees. With the crying baby balanced in his arms, Harry crawls to where Archer is. “Alright?”

Breathless and startled, Archer answers, “Yeah.” He rubs his foot.

“Gonna hurt y’rself told ya ‘bout jumpin’ off the furniture. Thought we understood this.”

“Saw you jump over some stairs on stage. You didn’t get hurt,” he replies.

Harry scoots to the edge of the bed and stands. “Yeah, well, Daddy does lots of things he shouldn’t but ’m a grown-up.”

“Still dumb.” Archer stands.

“With that word again, Archer, if you say dumb one more time, ’m gonna g’v ya a timeout. Told ya ‘bout that yesterday.”

Poppy is jumping on the bed. “Hey, just watched ya’ brother fall, and now ya jumpin’ like a silly monkey. And stop jumpin’ and standin’ on furniture, will ya?”

“Don’t be mad, Daddy. It’s fun.” Her half-flattened curls swirl around her, as she flies up into the air.

She stops when she lands.

“Lots of things are fun, but that doesn’t mean we gotta do everything that’s fun. Poppy, come here. I’ll help you down. Now, go do what I said and brush your teeth and wash your faces..”

Poppy stumbles across the bed to Harry, who lifts her in his arms and puts her on the floor. Lola continues to fuss and cough, the rattle still in her chest. With a gentle pat, he hits Poppy’s bum. “Off ya’ go.”

Poppy rushes out of the room with Harry close behind. Archer limps alongside Harry. The children go into their bathroom, and Harry enters the nursery.

                                                          ####

“But today is donut day,” Archer says. “And my foot hurts.”

“Well, it might be donut day usually, but not today. I’ll make ya breakfast here. And as for ya foot, whose fault is that?” Harry takes eggs from the fridge.

Archer pouts and leans back on the bench in the breakfast nook. “Not fair.”

“Yeah, lotsa things not fair, my man.” While holding Lola, he grabs the milk and juice and then places them on the counter.

“But you promised us ice cream yesterday, no ice cream, now donut day, no donuts.” He crosses his arms and kicks the table. “Ow.” Archer cries out. “My foot.”

“What’s with the foot, Arch?”

“Hurt it.”

Harry shakes his head. “Well don’t kick the furniture.”

“Not that, from falling, Dad.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “And if ya hadn’t been jumpin’ wouldn’t happen.”

“Fine, let my leg fall off.”

“Alright mate, here’s the deal, your leg isn’t going to fall off.  Your baby sister is sick. You can’t just start runnin’ about for donuts when someone’s sick- not good for them, and not right to spread germs to other people. We’re stayin’ here.” Harry walks to the pantry to get the bread and returns to the kitchen island. “Where’s Poppy?”

“Dunno.” Archer shrugs.

“Can you go find her, please? Can you do that for me?” Harry walks over and places Lola in her highchair.

Archer sniffles. “My foot hurts.”

Harry walks over to Archer and pats his thigh to signal the little boy to raise his foot. "Le’ me see.”

Archer raises his leg and rests his foot on Harry’s knee. Harry examines his foot. “Yeah, a bit swollen and a little red. Le’ me get you some ice.” He rests Archer’s foot on the bench.

Harry walks to the fridge, gets an ice pack, returns to Archer, and puts the ice on his son’s foot and ankle. “I’m not sure what’s hurt your foot or ankle. Keep it right there. Dad’ll be right back.”

Harry leaves the kitchen and walks to Poppy’s room. He finds Poppy in her closet eating a packet of jelly. Jelly is all over her face. “Oi, what’s this young lady?”

“Jelly.”

"I mean, I see that, but why? And where did you get it? But also, why?” he tries not to laugh at the complete ridiculousness of it all.

“It’s good.”

“It is, but we don’t just eat jelly packets, and why are you in the dark again?”

She laughs. “Can’t reach the light besides told ya I like it Papa.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “So first things first, give me the jelly packet.”

She hands him the small jelly packet split open with the red substance puffing out.

“Are there more?” Harry turns on the closet light.

She nods.

“And can I have them?”

She shakes her head. “No. Mine.”

He squats. “Actually, everything in this house is mine. I paid for it, so really, the jelly is mine.“ He smiles at her. He knows they don’t buy jelly packets, and though he’s curious as to where she got them  he doesn’t have time to talk about now.

“Nope.” She giggles.

"Poppy, please show me where the rest is.”

She stands up and walks out of the room. In the hallway, she picks up Lola’s toy frog. "Why’s this here?”

Harry tosses the half-eaten jelly packet in the bin as he exits the room. “Ya sister threw it down so many times I quit picking it up last night. Guess that’s where it finally landed.”

She lifts her sweet, cherub face to him. "It’s the wrong one.”

“What’s that jelly face?“

She blinks and stares at him. "She doesn’t like it.”

“Well, I couldn’t find her turtle.”

“Prolly lost it. She does that.”

He rubs the top of her head. “You used to do that too.”

“Know, but Mumma fixed it.”

He can’t help but grin. “How’d she do that?”

In her small sticky hand, she takes Harry’s hand and leads him down the hall to a storage closet. “Here.”

“In here?”

“Yeah, it’s got lovies.” She struggles to turn the doorknob.

Harry places his hand over hers and turns the knob. Inside the closet at the very top is a shelf of stuffed animals and blankets, multiples of each one. Some he recognizes are Archer’s, Poppy’s, and Lola’s. “What’s this?”

“If we lose it, Mummy fixes it.”

“Well, that’s very smart of Mummy.“ He reaches up and takes one of the stuffed turtles down, tucks it under his arm. "I’ll cut the tags off this when we get to the kitchen.” He heads back down the hall. “Poppy, need you to wash your face and hands, then come to the kitchen, please.”

Back in the kitchen, Lola kicks and fusses in her highchair. Archer talks to her about football. “So when they score a goal like that, they get a trophy.”

“Talkin’ footie with Lola?” Harry walks to the sink to wash the jelly off his hands.

“Yeah, but my foot still hurts.”

“Let me get ya somethin’ for it. Watch Lola just one more minute- I’ll be right back.”

Harry jogs down the hall, still carrying the turtle. He meets up with Poppy. “Go to the kitchen, love. I’ll be right there.”

“You did it wrong.”

“Did what wrong?”

She points to his hand. “The lovie.”

“What about it? Told ya I was gonna cut the tag off.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I’ll show you.” Her clean but wet hand grabs Harry’s, and she leads him through his bedroom into the bathroom. He walks to the sink, grabs a children’s Tylenol for Archer, and closes the medicine cabinet. Poppy points to the counter. “There.”

“What love? Whatcha pointin’ at?”

“That. Smell good stuff.”

“This?” He points to Y/N’s perfume.

Poppy nods and smiles.

“Mummy’s perfume?”

“Yeah.”

“Poppy Daddy’s had a very crazy morning. Can you help me a little bit, love?”

“Spray the lovie.” She smiles at him.

“Spray the lovie with Mummy’s perfume?”

She nods and smiles again.

Harry picks up Y/Ns signature perfume and sprays the stuffed turtle. “Like that?”

“Yes. Mummy. Now you.”

“Me?” He points to himself and smiles.

“Now, spray you.”

Harry picks up his bottle of cologne. “This? My cologne?”

“Daddy, just spray.” Poppy laughs.

Harry sprays the turtle with his cologne.

“See, all fixed.” She throws her hands in the air.

“That’s it?” he asks.

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, that’s quite smart of Mummy, and you for knowing all of that.” He picks her up. “Does Mummy do that for you?”

“Yep. Then we can smell Mummy and Daddy.”

Harry is sure that if his heart weren’t already broken, it would have shattered at that moment. The baby wanted to smell him and Y/N. That’s why she didn’t like the frog. Harry kisses Poppy. “I love you, Pop. Know that?”

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. “I love you,”

Harry lowers her to the ground and walks through the bedroom to his nightstand. He picks up his phone to check for any messages or calls from Y/N. Nothing. “Poppy, run along to the kitchen. I’ll be right there.”

The girl darts out of the room.

He sends Y/N a text.

Y/N I’ve learned my lesson, love. I’ll do better. Swear I will. Please call. Please come home. I’m dyin’ without you here. The kids are OK, except Lola’s a bit sick, but mostly we are all fine. Just want you home. Please, please come home. I love you more than I can ever say. Please at least let me know if you are okay. The kids keep asking about you. They miss you so much. Please give me another chance. XX-H

He slips the phone into his pocket and walks back to the kitchen.

“But he doesn’t even know why.” Poppy laughs as she talks to Archer.

"What’s got, you so giggly, Miss.”

“I was telling Archer about a boy at school.”

Harry walks over to sniffly, whining Lola. “Daddy’s here. Look what I got you.” He shows Lola the toy. He hands the baby the frog. She cuddles it close to her, delivering a fresh dose of snot right to the top of the frog. “I just sprayed it Lo, now it’s not gonna smell nice anymore.”

“It’s okay Dad it’ll be fine. She won’t care, if you sprayed it she’ll like it,” Archer says.

“Arch did you know about the sprayin’ the lovie trick?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, didn’t you?”

Harry smiles. “No. Feeling like I’ve been left out now.”

“Mum just does it,” Archer says. “Dad my foot hurts.”

“Right, sorry, here you go.” Harry hands him the Tylenol, then pours a cup of juice, and hands it to his son.

“So, I’m gonna make breakfast, then I need you guys to play as peacefully as possible because I have something important I need to take care of. Got it?”

The two kids nod.

“’M serious guys. I need ya to not fight, not jump on things, need you to be super, big time quiet. Can you please do this? And Archer, if you are so good, I will make sure we have ice cream by dinner.”

“Pinkie promise, Daddy.” Poppy extends her small pinky to him which he gladly wraps his large pinky around.

“Me too, Dad,” Archer says.  Harry extends his pinky which Archer hooks with his own.

“Alright. Thank you. Love you both.”

                                                           ###

Two hours later

Text From HARRY

Love, I know you’re angry, and I’m so sorry. I was wrong. I know you need your space. I’ll accept that, but can you please let me know you are somewhere safe, and that you are okay? It’s been more than 24 hours. I don’t see transactions on your cards. I know you have a private account and I can’t see that. That’s fine too, but I need to know you are safe. I’m waiting two more hours. If I don’t hear from you I’m calling the police, and reporting you missing.

                                                            ###

“Jeff do you not understand what time off means? Told ya I’m dealin’ with some stuff with m’ family. Told ya I’d call ya back when I get it settled. Yeah I get that but I can’t worry about the new contract right now. We’ve got plenty of time. Send it to my lawyers, once they go over it we’ll talk. OK, then I’ll schedule a meeting with them this week. Gonna talk to ya later.” Harry hangs up, and drops down into his black leather office chair, and exhales.

He spins the chair to face the desk, and opens his laptop, logs into the bank account- no signs of Y/N. He checks her credit cards. No updates to activity. He looks at his texts and missed calls. No Y/N.

He’s known her for nine years. One thing he knows is that she would never want to frighten her children. Even at her maddest the thought of Lola being sick would prompt her to call. Certainly her mum, sisters, and Julia would’ve told her Harry is looking for her. It makes him sick to think of contacting the police. The internet and rumor mills will explode once he does. Y/N knows that too, so the threat of police would’ve compelled her to call.

Harry decides to call her sister, mum and friend once more before taking the next step. After he makes no progress. He knows one more person who might be able to help him figure out what to do. He calls his most trusted security advisor, Liam.

After talking with Liam, he calls a meeting. Jeff, Glenne, Liam, Mitch and Sarah. All of them know he wouldn’t want to meet during a break unless the matter was urgent. Everyone agrees to be at the house in four hours.

“And so that’s it. That’s the whole story.” Harry throws his hands up in defeat, then begins to cry. His eyes water, a few tears trickle down his cheek. He takes a gulp of air. “I’ve called my mum. She was out of town so gotta give her some time. She will be here super early in the morning. We’ll need her. M’ dad is workin’ on fliers and posters. We’ll get those printed in-house so that the public isn’t in a panic before we talk to the police and we are ready to make an official statement.” He cherishes the people who sit at the table yet, he feels it’s betraying  Y/N to share such personal details of their marriage. What if he’s just blowing everything out of proportion? No, she would never do this, never. Something is wrong.