#and with everything else going on in my life

[ja3yun]

Love Me Tender | S.JY

bf!jaeyun x gf!reader warnings: smut (mdni), soft-dom jake, oral (f. rec), unprotected sex, cream pie, wax play, knife play, bondage, leather gloves, pussy slapping (once), nipple play, not proof read, anything else lmk. wc: 10.2k synopsis: when your tender, loving boyfriend jaeyun overhears a conversation about you wishing he was a bit rougher in bed, he vows to make sure you're completely satisfied, catering to all your hearts desires. a/n: hi! this is something i had sitting in my mind but also this is for my girl @yzzyhee because i genuinely cannot express my love or gratitude more than semi-dom, blonde jake. i hope you love it, mars and just know that i am and always will be proud of you, no matter what.

“It’s great and, fuck, I love him so much. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. It’s just…”

Just what?

Jaeyun halts abruptly outside your bedroom door as your muffled voice drifts through the wood. Having just returned from work, he had eagerly sprinted up the stairs upon seeing your shoes by the doorway, signalling your presence. Now, that excitement has dissipated, replaced by a creeping anxiety that crawls over his skin.

His mind races through every minor mistake he might have made in the past week to prompt you to discuss your relationship with someone else. No, you haven’t mentioned his name, he can’t fathom the idea of another man being the ‘best thing that ever happened to you’, so he jumps to conclusions.

Was it because he didn't clean on his day off last week? Or perhaps because he brought home that stray dog and begged you to keep her, even though neither of you had the time to give it the love it deserved? Jaeyun bites his bottom lip, pondering the meaning behind your words.

Leaning closer, he presses his hand against the door frame and hovers his ear just above the slit in the door to hear you better. In his eyes, everything in your relationship is more than fine, so he’s desperate to understand how he can fix whatever is wrong. If Jaeyun is determined to do one thing right in his life, it’s to be your perfect boyfriend.

The house is as quiet as a hairdresser's salon on a Monday morning, the silence thick and suffocating, until you break it with a sigh. “I just wish he was a bit rougher,” you finally say aloud, causing Jaeyun’s eyes to widen and ears to perk up. 

Of all the things in the world, he never expected you to say that. What do you mean rougher? He taps his foot on the carpet, as if trying to hurry your conversation along to hear your explanation. “He’s not bad in bed, far from it actually; he does this thing with his tongue that sends me to heaven…”

You trail off, and Jaeyun can vividly picture how you’re standing: your pretty pink lips caught between your teeth, a coy smile on your face, and your thighs rubbing together as you shift on your feet. There is a tiny swelling of pride adding to his emotions as you speak.

He knows how much you love his tongue, so much so that you’re often begging for it most nights and cumming on his face within minutes. His mind flashes back to those nights, your moans echoing in his memory.

That’s why it’s so hard for him to grasp what you’re talking about. He is rough with you to an extent - spanking your ass, sometimes tying you up, even pulling at your hair. Was that not enough for you? He’s always been scared of hurting you, even in those moments, so he can’t imagine going further than that. The thought of causing you pain, even unintentionally, sends a shiver down his spine.

“Yeah, exactly,” you agree with whoever is on the other line, “I want to just be manhandled and fucked like in the books we read or those Twitter porn videos. It’s just never going to happen, not with Jaeyun.”

Jaeyun’s body grows hot with nerves, goosebumps rising on his skin at your implication. Not with Jaeyun. What if you get bored every time he makes love to you and eventually leave him for someone else, someone who can fulfil those fantasies? The idea of losing you to someone else, someone who might treat you with the roughness you crave, makes his stomach churn with dread.

Oh, no. No, no, no. He cannot and will not let that happen. He refuses to lose you over something like this.

“Anyway, he’ll be home soon… No, I can’t say anything. You know how much he loves me. If I start asking him to edge me or bring a knife to a love fight, he would freak the fuck out,” you laugh disheartened, intending it as a joke but the sentence coming out as distant longing.

Jaeyun’s breath catches in his throat at the mention of a knife. You don’t mean a physical one right? It has to be a metaphor and you don’t want him to actually bring out the good kitchen knives and chop you up like yesterday’s salad? He’s not even a chef, never mind a butcher.

He hears you say your final goodbyes to your friend, causing him to silently run back to the top of the stairs, creating the facade that he has just arrived home. Just as he gets into place, you swing open your bedroom door and jolt back for a moment, surprised to see him there.

Swallowing the mix of hurt and apprehension, Jaeyun flashes the smile you fell in love with at first sight and walks over to you, pretending he didn’t hear a thing. “Hi, baby,” he says as chirpily as he can manage given the circumstances, walking towards you with an air of forced nonchalance.

“Hey, Jaeyun,” you say, looking him up and down with furrowed brows. “Babe, why are you so… all over the place?” The question isn’t misplaced. Despite his best attempts to conceal his true emotions, his body betrays him. His chest heaves as if he’s out of breath, his face is still flushed with a mix of embarrassment and nerves, and his hands tremble slightly.

“Oh, just those stairs, you know how they kill me,” he lets out a tense chuckle, trying to pass it off as his aversion to the gym.

Narrowing your eyes, you pout sceptically at his response, clearly not buying it. Your boyfriend might not frequent the gym, but he certainly plays football every Wednesday with his workmates, and his stamina during sex is nothing short of impressive. There’s definitely something else going on.

Now it’s your turn to get bitten by the anxiety bug. Surely he hadn’t overheard your conversation with Yeojeong just now? You would never be able to forgive yourself if he did because, in your mind, it wasn’t a complaint, just a small, wistful desire. But if he overheard, he might think it meant you were dissatisfied with him, even though that couldn't be further from the truth.

You blame the dark romance BookTok recommendations you've been indulging in for your sudden craving for a little, or a lot, of spice. That, and the three-month fascination you had with Ghostface after watching Scream 6.

Before your mind can wander to your boyfriend wearing a delicious mask as he pounds into you, you shake your head to clear your thoughts and smile widely, choosing to believe him over your own worries for a change. 

Encircling your arms around his waist, you place a kiss on his chest as you always do, hoping the tenderness and love from your lips reach his heart. “I would say go to the gym with me, but I like you just as you are,” you say gently, hoping that if he did, in fact, hear the conversation, it will put his mind at ease. That, and because you mean it wholeheartedly.

There isn’t a man in the world that could compare to your boyfriend, and you wouldn’t want to change any aspect of him. Not his tardiness, not his gentleness, and certainly not his soul.

Jaeyun feels your warmth and the sincerity in your voice. Your words provide a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. He wraps his arms around you tighter, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I love you so fucking much, Y/N. You know I would do anything for you, right?”

You look up at him and nod. “I know, baby.”

It’s strange how you are both having a silent conversation with your words. Each of you is reassuring the other, yet meaning different things. You are telling him that despite your own fantasies, he would never have to change just to meet them. 

Jaeyun, on the other hand, is conveying his commitment that he’s about to fulfil each and every single one of them.

_____

Jaeyun waits anxiously for the sound of your keys jingling in the lock as you secure the door behind you. The moment he hears it, he springs into action, heart pounding with a mix of determination and trepidation. He’s taken the day off work specifically for this - a day to explore a world he has no right to be stepping into, but one he is compelled to understand for your sake.

As the sound of your footsteps fades away, Jaeyun makes his way to the bedroom, his sanctuary of comfort and intimacy. Today, however, it feels like uncharted territory. The room is filled with reminders of your shared life: photographs capturing moments of joy, your favourite books stacked neatly on the nightstand, and the scent of your perfume lingering in the air. It all feels both reassuring and daunting.

Jaeyun sits at your shared desk, his heart pounding as he opens your laptop. Rather than logging into his own account, he attempts to access yours. It’s not that you’ve ever hidden anything from him; he’s just never needed to know your password or lurk in your browsing history. You’ve always been an open book. That is, until now.

Determined to delve into your private world to better understand and satisfy your cravings in bed, Jaeyun convinces himself that his intentions are pure. Logging into your account and discovering any form of porn you might own feels inherently better than randomly searching the internet. Surely, you must have a treasure trove of knowledge about your desires just sitting in plain sight, waiting to be explored. He just needs the password to unlock it.

Staring at your account login screen, he watches the cursor blink patiently in the password box. His mind races, trying to guess what it could be. The first thing that comes to mind is your anniversary. With a confident smile, he types in the date, knowing that it’s his own password as well. But when the message ‘Incorrect Pin’ flashes on the screen, his confidence wavers. He sits back, eyes wide with surprise.

What could it possibly be, then? Jaeyun runs through a list of possible passwords in his mind: your birthday, the name of your favourite pet, maybe even a significant place. Each attempt is met with the same frustrating result—‘Incorrect Pin.’

After a few more failed tries, he feels a pang of guilt but pushes it aside. This is for the greater good, he tells himself. This is to make you happy. He takes a deep breath and thinks more deeply about what the password could be. Something personal, something meaningful. He recalls moments you've shared, your inside jokes, and your shared passions. Then it hits him: your favourite band.

If there was another Jaeyun in your life, it was Lee Jaeyun from TO1. He’s not a jealous person but for that man, he is the most green-nosed, spiteful gremlin. Day after day he has had to hear about him despite the short answers and disinterest he shows, it doesn’t deter you in the slightest. It doesn’t help they have the same name either.

Pulling out his phone, he searches for the leader’s date of birth, already resigned to the idea that this will work and that he will have to somehow get you to change it before he becomes the human embodiment of envy. Typing in ‘160800’, the computer finally unlocks with ease. His face falls as the screen reveals your desktop, confirming his suspicion. Maybe to save himself the tiny heartache, he should have just searched for all of this on his own account; that’s what he gets for snooping, he supposes.

Jaeyun takes a moment to compose himself, shaking off the petty jealousy that flares up. He reminds himself why he’s doing this: to better understand your desires and make you happy. With a sigh, he begins navigating through your files, searching for anything that might give him insight into your fantasies.

The wallpaper is a picture of you and him on your third date to the petting farm. You both were covered up to the heavens, puffer jackets, scarves, and gloves to match since it was a bitingly cold winter. Jaeyun had insisted you go to the Christmas markets since it was one of the most romantic things to do; taking pictures under the lights and riding the swings, all while sharing kisses and nuzzling his nose with yours in an attempt to stay warm in the night.

But you had other plans. You wanted to see the cows and pigs instead, petting them and feeding them with the guidance of the farmer. It was one of the best dates of your life, Jaeyun had never seen you on such a high and he has still to replicate the elation on your face from the picture. Despite both of you getting covered in mud and earning a cold from the trip - that just meant cuddles in bed the next few days which then resulted in the first ‘I love you’ being shared - he is so glad you talked him into it.

His heart pounds at the memory, a fond smile growing on his face. There is no better joy to him than seeing you happy. And that brings him back to his original task.

Clicking on the browser, Jaeyun goes to your bookmarks first, scouring for anything that could seem on the darker side. However, it’s filled with movie links and furniture you’re considering buying when you redecorate the living room.

He then recalls something you said on the phone about BookTok and frantically searches for the app on the computer. Once he sees the familiar logo, he clicks on it quickly and heads straight for your favourites. Luckily for him, you are a folder freak and categorise everything, so it’s easy to scroll past the TO1 edits, cooking recipes, and things Jaeyun would like folders to find the coveted book rec folder.

He clicks on the first one and grabs his phone, ready to make a list of every kink that is hidden within the reviews. Two hours and fourteen minutes later, he finds his mind completely immersed in your fantasy world filled with CEOs, bikers, vampires, guns, knives, BDSM, corruption, cockwarming, and many, many, other things. Each paragraph and trigger warning becomes more outlandish than the last, and he realises he may have bitten off more than he can chew.

Jaeyun is thankful there isn’t anything that seems too brutal in there, but there are definitely some things he just point-blank refuses to take part in. Personally, he can’t imagine you are into some of the more extreme aspects either, but he understands that some elements come hand-in-hand with books like these. A few ideas are swirling in his head, however. There are things he doesn’t know if he can do, but for you, he will try his best.

As Jaeyun jots down notes, he starts with the milder kinks and gradually works his way up to the more intense ones: dominance and submission, rough play, role-playing, and bondage. These are things he feels he can explore with you, drawing inspiration from the confident and assertive male leads he's encountered in your favourite books. He imagines scenarios where he takes control, ties you up, and whispers dirty things in your ear—thankful to those characters for providing him with some content to work with. His pulse quickens at the thought, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through him.

Yet, there is one recurring theme that stands out among all your fantasies:

Knives. 

It’s something you verbally pointed out in the phone call and is flagged as a potential trigger in almost all of the books you've favourited. The mere thought of it makes Jaeyun’s cheeks flush and sends a chill down his body. The idea of causing you harm, even in a controlled and consensual manner, is unsettling to him.

But Jaeyun is committed to understanding and fulfilling your desires. He knows this is about pleasing you and embracing your fantasies to keep his role as your perfect partner. There must be safe ways to explore this particular kink, ways that satisfy your cravings without risking harm. 

So, with determination, Jaeyun rolls up his sleeves and cracks his neck from side to side, preparing himself for a deep dive into your kink. Tonight, he will make sure you never have to go back to those books again.

_____

Walking through the door, you see the lights entirely out, causing a bit of alarm to ring inside your chest. Jaeyun is always home by now on his days off, so it’s strange that the house is in darkness.

“Baby? Are you home?” you whisper-shout, just on the off chance that he has decided to take a nap and it’s run through to 8pm. He has been working hard the past few days, so exhaustion is granted, but it’s just not like him to at least wait up for you.

You take off your shoes and place your bag next to the door, waiting for a response that never comes. Arching a brow, you look around, seeing that the house is in peak condition, just the way you left it this morning. Jaeyun is notorious for leaving a pint glass on the table and a plate that held his lunch on the coffee table, yet, nothing.

Gingerly, you make your way up the stairs, the balls of your feet never hitting the surface as you tiptoe slowly. You can’t understand why your mind went straight to a man murdering your lover while you were away, yet, your brain has conjured up this picture in your mind. The thought makes your heart pound and your throat go dry; if there was one person you couldn’t live without, it was Jaeyun.

“Baby, please answer me?” you say a bit louder at the top of the stairs, hoping he’ll respond and dispel any worries that are currently stabbing in your heart.

There is a soft flicker coming from your bedroom, a golden hue seeping through the glass pane at the top. It doesn’t smell like a fire, and you don’t own a lamp like that, so your curiosity is piqued. Your favourite scent of vanilla and amberwood engulfs the hall, causing you to drift rather than charge to your bedroom. The familiar fragrance calms your nerves, making you feel like you’re being welcomed home in the most intimate way.

Reaching for the door, you timidly open it, your hand trembling slightly. As the door creaks open, the soft glow of candlelight bathes the room in a warm, intimate atmosphere. The bed is adorned with fresh, crisp linens, and there are petals of your favourite pink and yellow tulips scattered over the floor. You’ve never been one for roses, and Jaeyun knows this, opting to get you only the best. The sight of the room, meticulously prepared, tugs at your heartstrings, filling you with a blend of love and anticipation.

You step further into the room, careful not to disrupt the scene before you. The effort Jaeyun has put into this is clearly extensive, and you would hate to mess with it before he has the chance to show it off to you. That does beg the question, though: where is he?

Just as you mentally ponder his whereabouts, you feel a pair of hands grip your shoulders, massaging you slowly. The sensation is different, though; it’s not Jaeyun’s normal soft touch. His fingers feel chunkier and are clearly covered by something. A shiver runs down your spine as the mystery deepens.

“I thought you were never coming home, baby,” he whispers into your ear, his lips softly grazing your lobe as he speaks. The sensation of his proximity and the lower octave of his tone instantly travels down to your core. There’s an edge to his voice that you’ve never heard before, making your pulse quicken with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

You twist your head to look at him, but the darkness of the room prevents you from fully seeing his beautiful, strong features, however, that big nose and blonde hair are still prominent enough to make you weak. What you do notice in addition, though, are the thick, black leather gloves that hold you in place. The sight of them makes your heart race; they add an unexpected, thrilling element to the scene.

In confusion, you reach up to touch them, the feeling of them oddly cool despite the heat invading both the room and your body. “Jaeyun, it’s like 16 degrees outside, why are you—”

“Shh, I’m doing something special for you. Just relax, Princess.” The use of “Princess” sends a jolt through you. It’s a term of endearment reserved for special occasions: birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays. It must mean you are either forgetting a crucial moment in your relationship or he’s up to something. Boyfriends don’t do “something special” without a reason.

Turning your body to face him, you eye him with intense scepticism. “What did you do wrong?”

He laughs, but it’s not his usual heart-warming giggle. It’s mocking, as if you have the nerve to ask the question. “Me? I think it was you who did something wrong, baby"

Okay, now you really are confused. There is nothing you have done wrong, and you know it. Plus, if you did, Jaeyun would whine about it to you right after and make you give at least three kisses as an apology. Now that you look at him, you take in his appearance. His beautiful blonde hair styled to fall just slightly over his usual puppy eyes, the water ducts of his eyelids are painted with a subtle liner, and there is a red tint to his lips, only making them more enticing. The cute boyfriend you love so dearly is nowhere to be seen, instead replaced by a smug-looking man with eyes glaring into yours.

What you don’t know is that Jaeyun’s heart is pounding in his chest, and the fire in his eyes is determined to see this plan through. He needs everything to go well, and that means staying in character and giving you the fucking you deserve, the one you crave so bad.

“What did I do, Jaeyun?” you ask a bit breathlessly, a frown forming on your face at the prospect of hurting your man. The idea of disappointing him gnaws at your heart, yet the unfamiliar intensity in his eyes sends a thrill through you.

It almost cracks Jaeyun’s well-curated persona that he spent all afternoon figuring out, from the white shirt with the collar open and the sleeves rolled up, the gloves on his hands, to the daring glint in his eye. He’s determined to give you everything your heart desires tonight. He softens his gaze, just a touch, and his hand gently runs over your cheek, the once thoughtful and endearing gesture now turned slightly sinister with the leather of the glove, the cracks bumping over your blushed skin.

“You did something bad, Princess, something I’m going to have to punish you for,” he replies to your question, never actually answering it but rather giving you more queries. His voice is firm, leaving no room for argument, and it makes your heart pound in your chest. You’re torn between trepidation and arousal, the lines between them blurring as you stand before him.

He takes his eyes off of you, giving up the harsh stare, and focuses on your work shirt. “Take it off,” he instructs demandingly, his eyebrows arching expectantly. His tone leaves no room for hesitation, and your hands move almost automatically.

Almost under a spell, you nod, fumbling with the top button. Your mind is racing with trepidation and nervousness as you try to process this new side of your boyfriend. You aren’t complaining; he looks fucking hot, and the way he’s directing you is making your legs shake in the best possible way. The atmosphere in the room is charged with raw, electric energy, every second stretching out with heightened anticipation.

He watches the first few buttons pop open, but you’re going far too slow for him, causing him to take action. He grabs the flimsy collar of your pink shirt, ripping it open with tenacity. Buttons fly across the room and clatter against the surfaces of the floor and the chest of drawers, your shocked gasp echoing the sound.

A smirk marks his face as he sees the pretty white bra holding your perfect tits up. He loves your body more than anything, and honestly, he isn’t thrilled about marking it up tonight. However, the more he thinks about it, something is enticing about the marks being made by him. His desire to please you is interwoven with a burgeoning sense of ownership and dominance, the sight of you laid bare before him stirring something deep within, the persona of being dominant now enveloping his whole demeanour.

“Are you wearing the matching panties?” he asks carefully, knowing full well you never leave the house in an odd set, scared of the bad luck it could bring. 

Nodding, you already know what he is asking and unzip your black, matt skirt, letting it fall to the floor as you stand in nothing but the lingerie set you bought spontaneously, and by fuck are you glad you wore it today. It was not intentional, your expectations of coming home were not to this but rather a quiet night in the way you usually do, but something compelled you to the sexier underwear today. Perhaps in the back of your mind, you knew something special was going to happen. 

Jaeyun takes you in, staring blatantly at your body and thinks of all the ways he is ready to take you tonight. He wants this to be the best fuck you’ve ever had and you are making it so easy for him to do so.

“Fuck, you are so beautiful, Princess,” he compliments, looking at you with hungry eyes. The gesture should make you feel insecure but it only fuels your need to have him closer. Blushing you look down, which he quickly rectifies, grasping at your jaw tight enough for you to feel commanded but not hurt, and brings his face closer to yours. “Get on the bed, on your knees and wait until I tell you to move.”

If your pussy could cry, it would. Your typical love-making boyfriend is now showing his more dominant side, and it’s driving you wild. You move to the bed, your legs feeling like jelly, and position yourself on your knees as instructed. The air is thick with anticipation, your body aching for his touch.

Jaeyun watches you, his eyes dark with desire. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him: you, waiting obediently, dressed in nothing but that perfect lingerie set. His heart pounds in his chest, a mix of love and primal need fueling his actions. He wants to make you feel things you’ve never felt before, to push the boundaries of pleasure and trust between you.

Walking towards you, he climbs onto the bed, positioning himself behind you. His gloved hands run down your back, the cool leather a stark contrast to your heated skin. “You look so fucking perfect like this,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion and desire. The sensation of his gloved hands on your bare skin sends waves of pleasure through you, making you arch your back slightly, seeking more of him.

He reaches around to cup your breasts, squeezing them gently through the lace of your bra. The pressure is just right, enough to make you gasp and press back against him. “Do you like that, Princess?” he asks, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Yes,” you breathe out, the word escaping you in a rush of need.

“Good,” he replies, his hands moving to unclasp your bra. “I want to hear you tonight. I want to know exactly how much you’re enjoying this. And if I need to stop, say the word and I will.”

Before you can fully comprehend his words, Jaeyun reaches to the side of the bed, retrieving something. The air is thick with anticipation, the suspense almost tangible. The idea that your typically gentle boyfriend has transformed into someone so dominant is exhilarating. Your heart races as you wait for his next move, the atmosphere charged with excitement.

Suddenly, your hands are bound together with a silky pink ribbon. The fabric is soft against your skin, a stark contrast to the intense emotions bubbling inside you. A shiver of need runs down your spine, your breath hitching as Jaeyun tightens the ribbon around your wrists. This gentle restraint heightens your vulnerability, making you feel even more exposed and ready for whatever Jaeyun has planned.

He ties the ribbon into a delicate bow, his fingers moving with confident precision. The care he takes with each loop and knot sends a wave of warmth through you, reminding you of the love and trust that form the foundation of this intense experience, one you didn’t ask him for yet somehow he knew you wanted The bow rests softly against your skin, a symbol of the control you've willingly surrendered to him.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his voice filled with admiration and desire. Leaning in, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, "You’re perfect like this, Princess."

His words send a rush of heat through you, particularly to your core, your body responding to the deep, commanding tone. Every touch, every whisper, ignites a fire within you, your anticipation almost unbearable. The sensation of being bound and at his mercy only heightens your arousal. This is what you have been craving and he is feeding you full.

Jaeyun's gloved hands move slowly over your body, exploring every inch of your exposed skin. The cool leather contrasts with your warmth, sending shivers of pleasure through you. He traces the curve of your neck, the swell of your breasts, and the dip of your waist, his touch both gentle and firm. Each caress leaves a trail of tingling sensation, your body hypersensitive to his every movement.

Kneeling behind you, his chest pressed against your back, he whispers, "You trust me, don’t you?"

"Always" you breathe out, your voice a mix of need and certainty. You trust him completely, ready to let him guide you through this new and exhilarating experience. Although you have always dreamed of this, you still don’t really know what to expect but if Jaeyun is on the other side of it, you feel more than safe.

His hands sliding down your arms to rest on your bound wrists. He holds them gently, the ribbon a reminder of your submission. "I’m going to make you feel so good, Princess."

His words are filled with love and adoration despite the commanding edge in his tone and grip. While he is playing the role of a dominant, the tenderness and affection he has for you remain palpable. He is still your loving boyfriend, and he will ensure you feel cherished and safe throughout this experience.

With a careful, guiding touch, he lays you down on your back, your bound hands resting against your stomach. He moves your legs so you're completely flat and comfortable against the mattress. The vulnerability of your position heightens your awareness of every sensation, yet you surrender yourself to him with ease, trusting him completely.

Jaeyun's smile is a mixture of pride and desire as he observes your obedience. He climbs over you, reaching for one of the candles on the bedside table. The soft glow of the flame illuminates his face, casting shadows that dance across his features, making him look even more enticing.

Sitting himself firmly over your core, he holds the candle above you, the wax slowly beginning to melt. The anticipation sends shivers through your body, the heat from the candle contrasting with the coolness of the room. This was something you always wished to try, granted, it was on him rather than you but you welcomed the experience nonetheless.

"Are you ready, Princess?" he asks, his voice a husky whisper filled with promise.

You nod, your breath hitching in your throat. "Yes," you manage to whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement.

His eyes lock onto yours, ensuring you are fully present in this moment. "Tell me if it’s too much," he instructs, his tone softening for a moment. He wants to be rough with you but also let you know that you are in control to stop and go as you please.

"I will," you promise, trusting him implicitly.

With that, he tilts the candle, allowing a drop of hot wax to fall onto your bare skin, just above your breast. The sensation is sharp and intense, a sudden burst of heat that quickly cools, leaving a tingling trail of pleasure in its wake. You gasp, your body arching slightly at the unexpected sensation. Instinctively, your arms move to reach for him, but bound by the ribbon, all you can do is stretch them above your head, your fists clenching. There is nothing you can do because if you interfere, he will simply stop, and that is the last thing you want.

So, you bear the mingling pain and pleasure, wiggling under him with lust as your arousal soaks the freshly made bed. Each drop of wax is accompanied by the heat of the flame, adding to the wonder you are feeling. The mixture of sensations – the heat of the wax, the coolness of the air, the firmness of the mattress beneath you, and the weight of Jaeyun’s body – creates a symphony of pleasure that envelops you completely. Your breaths come in short, shallow gasps, your mind consumed by the intense, intoxicating experience.

Your legs kick involuntarily as he moves the candle lower, dripping the hot wax into your navel. The feeling is overwhelming over the sensitive area, making your whole body yelp and your hips buck up into him. Each new drop intensifies your arousal, your body responding eagerly to the mix of pleasure and slight pain.

Jaeyun's eyes darken with satisfaction at your reactions, his dominant persona growing stronger. The wax paints your body like paint on a fresh canvas, telling a story of your shared passion and want. The sight is so beautiful he can’t believe he created such a masterpiece. 

Satisfied with his work, he sets the candle aside and runs his gloved hands over your body, tracing the cooling trails of wax with a gentle touch. The contrasting sensations of the smooth leather against your heated skin make you shiver, your body hypersensitive to his every touch.

"You're doing so well, Princess," he praises, his voice a low, soothing rumble that sends waves of pleasure through you. 

His hands move lower, parting your thighs as he positions himself between them, his body sleeking to lie half on and half off the bed. The anticipation is almost unbearable, your body aching for his touch, for his tongue. He leans down, his breath hot against your core, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. 

Nothing makes you happier than when Jaeyun is between your legs and that skilful tongue of his is making you cum over and over again. With your hands tied to grant you just enough freedom, you reach down into his hair and grasp it, guiding him closer to where you need it most.

“Jaeyun, please, I need you so bad,” you whimper, the tone of your voice desperate and needy much to his satisfaction. 

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "God, I love it when you beg," he murmurs, his lips curling into a knowing grin. If there is one thing he always makes you do in the bedroom, it’s begging, and fuck does he eat it up every single time.

Without an ounce of hesitation, his mouth descends upon you, his tongue circling your clit with fervour, his lips creating a comforting cocoon around his actions. The grip on his blonde hair is harsher than before, your fingers threading through with ease as you push him further into your heat, his nose subsequently grazing just above where he is focusing. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, each flick of his tongue sending pulses of pleasure through your body.

His still-gloved hands grip your thighs and push them apart, holding you wide open for him as he sucks and licks with velocity. His eagerness to please you is seeping through, the boyfriend that you know and love with a need to make sure you’re receiving the most intense experience of your life. The leather of his gloves against your skin adds an unexpected thrill, a reminder of the control he holds and the lengths he is willing to go to make you feel incredible.

Sucking on your bud, his eyes glance up at you with a mischievous glint, watching your every reaction. The connection between you deepens, a silent communication passing between you, the love he has for you evident in the sparkle you see flash before you. Your breath hitches, and your back arches off the bed as his tongue works its magic, each movement precise and deliberate; your body is his instrument, and he is playing it masterfully, drawing out notes of ecstasy that resonate in your very core. 

Your moans grow louder, more desperate, filling the room with the sounds of your pleasure. Jaeyun's grip on your thighs tightens, his determination evident in the way he devours you. He knows exactly how to push you to the edge, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony to bring you to the brink of orgasm.

"Please, Jaeyun," you gasp, your voice barely a whisper, laced with need.

His response is a deep, satisfied hum against your clit, the vibrations adding another layer to your mounting pleasure. The combination of his skilled mouth and the teasing flicks of his tongue drive you wild, your body trembling with the intensity of your arousal. 

Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he increases his pace, his tongue moving faster, his suction stronger. The world fades away, leaving only the overwhelming sensation of his mouth on you, the heat pooling in your belly, ready to explode.

With a final, powerful suck, he sends you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with pleasure, your moans turning into cries of rapture. He doesn't stop, prolonging your climax, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you're left breathless and spent.

Jaeyun laps up all of your juices like a dog craving water in the summer sun,  his eyes closed to enhance his senses as he cleans you up. He loves nothing more than eating you out, seeing it as an honour rather than a chore. The taste and smell of you drive him wild. He continues to slurp your essence, even though you’re squirming each time the tip of his tongue drags along your clit.

“Jaeyun, it’s too much,” you gasp as he nibbles around your sensitive area, each touch sending shivers through your body.

Removing his face from your cunt, he licks the wetness from his lips with a sadistic smirk, his eyes predatory and ready to ravage you at any moment. The intense gaze makes you shudder with longing, the need for his cock so obvious that you’re moving down with your legs, your pussy chasing his still-clothed erection.

But Jaeyun has other plans, much more sinister plans.

“Don’t be so needy, Princess,” he growls, slapping your pussy once and snapping his fingers. “Move up.” The command in his voice leaves you no room for error or hesitation. You move up, the restraint on your wrists making it a little more difficult than anticipated.

As you lay your head on the soft pillow that carries his scent, Jaeyun smiles in satisfaction, reaching under the bed to find something. If it’s anything like the silk ribbon that is still bounding your wrists, you’re excitedly awaiting the reveal. The prolepsis is almost too much to bear, your heart pounding in your chest as you watch him find exactly what he is looking for.

When his hand re-emerges, it holds a knife: the handle thick and enticing, the blade sharp and dangerous . Your eyes widen in a mix of fear and excitement, your breath catching in your throat. This is all you’ve ever wanted, a fantasy you’ve kept hidden, and now it’s coming to life. How did he know?

The sight of the silver glinting in the candlelight sends a thrill through you, your body trembling with a potent blend of arousal and trepidation. If there was one thing you never expected Jaeyun to do, it was this. Often, he would apologise during sex if he pressed into you too hard, so you can’t understand what the sudden change is about.

Tying you up, slapping your pussy, all of that you could understand, none causing enough damage to scar you, yet the knife he wields is an instrument meant to deface you in some way, to hurt you which is exactly the opposite of anything Jaeyun has ever wished to do upon you.

Rolling the knife between his covered fingers as though it is a drumstick, he looks at you menacingly. “Does this shit turn you on? A knife?” he scoffs at the question he doesn’t expect an answer for. “It can do so much damage yet you finger yourself over the thought of it, don’t you?”

All the novels you’ve read suddenly come rushing back but you swore you never spoke to him about this before. Knives aren’t exactly a common bedroom item so for him to know this tiny detail about your fantasy is so…

…The phone call. He did hear it.  

Your heartbeat quickens with a mixture of love and anxiety. Jaeyun is doing all of this for you because of what you said, going to extraordinary lengths to fulfil your desires. Most wouldn’t care to cater to your wants, yet here he is, stepping out of his comfort zone just to please you. The realisation floods through you, bringing a wave of gratitude and affection.

Jaeyun notices the shift in your expression immediately, smiling knowingly. “Oh, yeah, I know all about your twisted fantasies,” he smirks, pointing the knife to himself. At first, panic grips you, fearing what he might do, but to your relief, he catches the blade on his shirt and drags it down with force, ripping the material effortlessly, and leaving his torso exposed. “And I’m going to make sure every single one of them comes true.”

Taking in the sight of his abs, you whimper, longing to touch them, yet you resist, keeping your hands firmly above your head in obedience. Jaeyun’s body causes butterflies to erupt in your tummy, the movement stirring your arousal even more.

He brings the knife to your chest, pressing ever so lightly. He spent considerable time practising the pressure of the blade on various objects, ensuring he wouldn’t hurt you in any way. His meticulous preparation is evident as he caters to your needs without going too far.

Your lungs tighten as you feel the cold steel between your breasts, the sharp tip piercing just enough to feel it but not cutting you. The sensation is electrifying, a blend of fear and excitement that heightens every nerve in your body. Your breaths come in shallow gasps, your chest rising and falling rapidly under his touch.

“Just breathe, Princess,” Jaeyun murmurs soothingly, his voice a gentle counterpoint to the sharpness of the knife. His eyes never leave yours, maintaining a connection that grounds you even in the intensity of the moment. The trust between you is palpable, a silent understanding that he will never truly harm you.

He moves the blade with precision, tracing patterns over your skin, each touch sending shivers down your spine. The cool metal contrasts with the heat of your body, creating a tantalising mix of sensations that leaves you breathless. Your nipples harden, the chill of the knife adding to your arousal.

Jaeyun’s eyes darken with desire as he watches your reactions, his own arousal evident in the bulge pressing against his trousers. The power he wields, the control he has over your pleasure, fuels his own need despite his own worries, making him more determined to give you everything you desire.

The knife slides down to your stomach, pressing lightly against your navel. The sensation is both thrilling and terrifying, your body trembling under his ministrations. You can feel every inch of the blade’s journey, the delicate pressure a reminder of his control and your submission. The cold steel creates a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body, each touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Is this what you wanted, Princess?” he asks, his voice a seductive whisper. The intensity in his eyes makes your core tighten, your need for him overwhelming. The power dynamic between you amplifies your arousal, each moment of vulnerability intensifying the bond you share.

“Fuck, yes,” you breathe out, swallowing air as your mouth dries up in complete lust for the man. The anticipation and desire build within you, each second stretched taut with expectation.

Jaeyun pouts mockingly, the corners of his lips curling into a teasing smile. The blade digs a tiny bit deeper, just enough to nick your skin but not draw blood. The sharp sting elicits a gasp from your lips, a mix of pain and pleasure that sends waves of heat through your body. The sensation is electrifying, your senses heightened by the thrill of the knife's edge and the knowledge of Jaeyun’s precise control.

His eyes never leave yours, the connection between you unbreakable. The trust and love you share make this moment possible, allowing you to surrender completely to his whims. His free hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips tenderly, a stark contrast to the harshness of the blade against your skin. The leather of his glove traces your lip and you suck on it gently, sparking a twitch in his cock.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “So perfect.”

His words, filled with adoration and possessiveness, send another wave of arousal through you. Every touch, every word, is a testament to his dedication to you, his willingness to explore your deepest fantasies.

His lips lean into yours, the edge of the blade now scarily close to your tender area. You quiver, scared yet enthralled at the idea that one move could change the pace of this night. His plump lips peck yours, leaving you longing for more, but he is already pulling away, sitting back up and looking thoughtfully at the knife in his hand.

“It’s strange that you crave this. I’m still trying to understand what it is about it that you love so much,” he questions, the shine of the steel hitting the candlelight once more. “Is it really better than my cock?”

You shake your head frantically, never wishing to set doubts into his head about his ability to please you. That cock has done more for you in the two years you have been together than anyone has ever done in your life. The planets that rocket has taken you to is more than you could ever wish for, no kink could ever top it.

Swiftly, he flicks the knife in his hand, the blade digging into his glove. To be fair, the whole reason he put on the gloves was exactly for this reason. Initially, he was going to spread you open and fuck you with it handle first just like in the books he skimmed on TikTok, but as he kneels between your thighs, power in his hands, he realises this is his opportunity to show you just how little you need this to satisfy you.

Licking his lips, he drags the handle down your slit, causing you to mewl out in want. At this point, you’ll take anything, all the teasing from him and greed to be fulfilled inside your body is too much to ignore. You need to be stuffed by something and you need it now.

The curve of the haft sits teasingly at your entrance, begging to be inside you, or rather, you’re begging it to be inside you. Your hips lift instinctively, seeking the pressure and the pleasure that promises to follow. Your breaths come in short, desperate gasps, your eyes locked onto his, silently pleading for release.

Jaeyun’s eyes burn with an intensity that matches your own. “You want this, don’t you?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. The way he looks at you, with a mixture of dominance and affection, sends shivers down your spine.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Please, Jaeyun, I need it.”

His smirk widens at your admission. “Too bad, Princess,” he suddenly chucks the knife away, the metal clattering against the floor as it slides out of reach. Your eyes widen in shock and confusion, a whimper escaping your lips at the unexpected turn of events.

“But-” you begin, your voice cracking with desperation. Jaeyun silences you with a finger pressed to your lips, his expression softening just a fraction as he leans in close.

“Trust me,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “I know what you need more than you do.”

With that, he shifts his position, his body pressing you down into the mattress with a delicious weight. He whips off his gloves and his bare hands roam your body, fingers tracing over your sensitive skin, sending sparks of pleasure wherever they touch. The sensation of his skin against your flesh is intoxicating and desperately what you need, heightening your awareness of every movement.

Jaeyun’s mouth moves down, his lips enveloping your breast, taking a nipple between his teeth and tugging lightly. You gasp, the sharp pleasure shooting straight to your core, your hips lifting instinctively to seek more contact.

“Jaeyun,” you moan, your voice a desperate plea. In response, he lavishes attention on your other breast, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“I love it when you say my name like that,” he growls against your skin, his hands moving to grip your hips with a possessive intensity, just harsh enough to bruise you tomorrow. “Give me your wrists.”

Obliging, you offer your tied hands, presenting them as though they are a gift from you to him. The look in his eyes is fierce and tender all at once. He takes one of the ends of the bow, biting it gently before pulling, undoing his knot from earlier. The scene before you is so sensual that a tear rolls down your cheek, falling onto the bed beneath you.

The ribbon falls between you, resting on your body adorned with drops of wax. Jaeyun leaves it there, loving the way it decorates your skin. His eyes trace the path of the ribbon, admiring the contrast against your flesh.

He leans down, kissing the tear-streaked path on your cheek. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his voice a mix of awe and adoration. “And you’re mine.”

His words send a shiver through you, the possessiveness in his tone amplifying your desire. His hands slide down your sides, fingers tracing the curves of your body with reverence. Every touch and every movement is deliberate, designed to heighten your pleasure.

Jaeyun’s lips follow the path of his hands, trailing kisses down your stomach, pausing to nuzzle the delicate skin just above your navel. His breath is warm against your skin, the sensation sending sparks of anticipation through you.

“Tell me what you want, Princess,” he murmurs, his voice a seductive growl. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you,” you breathe out, your voice trembling with need. “I need you inside me, Jaeyun.”

He smiles, already on his way to unbutton his slacks and take them off, trying his best to do it gracefully while still kneeling on the bed. Once his cock is free, his right hand grasps it firmly, stroking it with laziness. 

The tip of his cock looks so delectable, the red, angry tip is begging to be satisfied, meaning he is enjoying this just as much as you are. Holding you steady, he positions himself between your thighs. The anticipation is almost unbearable, your body aching for his touch, for the feeling of him filling you completely.

“Please,” you beg, your voice breathless with need. “I need you, Jaeyun.”

“More than a knife?”

“Fuck the knife, I only want you, baby. Forever,” you whimper out, your pussy instinctively bucking up to find his cock, like two magnets destined for one another, just like your hearts. Never in your dreams did you think you could find a man like him, someone so easily willing to love you and everything you are, even the desires you hold deep in your heart.

His eyes gleam the same way they do when you tell him you love him or leave him to go to work. It’s adoration and acceptance that runs constantly throughout his blood and bones. The connection between you is palpable, a silent agreement that no matter where your fantasies take you, the love and trust you share will always bring you back to each other.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Jaeyun eases into you, the feeling of him stretching and filling you is pure bliss. You both let out a collective sigh, the initial penetration electrifying every nerve in your body. The sensation of him inside you, coupled with the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress, is overwhelming in the best possible way.

“God, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice thick with gratification. He pauses for a moment, allowing you both to savour the connection before he begins to move.

His thrusts start slow, each one measured and deep, designed to draw out the pleasure and build the anticipation. Your hands grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you arch your back, meeting each of his movements with equal fervour.

The room fills with the symphony of your passion, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, the creak of the bed, and your shared moans of ecstasy. Every thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, your senses heightened, your body responding to his every touch.

“Jaeyun,” you gasp, your voice a breathless plea. “Harder.”

His eyes flash with a primal intensity, and he complies, increasing the force and speed of his thrusts. The bed shakes beneath you, the headboard tapping rhythmically against the wall as he drives into you with a fierce, unrelenting pace.

You grip the sheets tightly as the tip of his cock bruises your cervix, his hips moving with pure desire. This is the hardest he’s fucked you in his life, the grip on your waist and the powerful thrusts enough to leave marks. His lips devour yours in a passionate kiss, adding to the perfect blend of love and rawness you’ve been craving.

Tears well up in your eyes as he takes you to greater heights than anyone has before. You've never needed elaborate kinks to feel satisfied; you just needed Jaeyun. Yet, as he dominates you now, you realise how intoxicating his control can be. Maybe he could adopt this dominant persona more often because he is undeniably skilled at it.

Every movement, every touch, and every word from him ignites a fire within you, building towards an explosive climax. The room echoes with your shared moans, the bed creaking in protest as he thrusts into you relentlessly. Each sensation, from the sting of his bites to the deep ache of his penetration, pushes you closer to the edge of euphoria.

As your bodies meld together in passion and rhythm, you feel a deep connection that transcends mere physicality. It’s a dance of trust and desire, a symphony of pleasure orchestrated by the man who knows you intimately. In this moment, wrapped in his arms and lost in the ecstasy of his love, you realise that Jaeyun is not just fulfilling your fantasies - he’s surpassing them, guiding you to realms of bliss you never dared to imagine.

“I’m close, Princess,” he mutters, his head burying deep into your neck as his hips falter slightly.

You nod eagerly, your nails digging into his back to convey your urgency, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. His cock feels so snug inside you that when you tighten involuntarily at his words, he’s drawn deeper into your depths, unable to resist your passionate grip as you cascade violently into orgasm.

“Fuck, Jaeyun!” you scream, your mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut, surrendering to the overwhelming wave of pleasure that engulfs every one of your senses. The intensity of your release leaves you trembling, your body quaking with the aftershocks of ecstasy as he continues to drive into you, prolonging your shared ecstasy.

In the midst of your euphoria, you feel Jaeyun’s own climax building, his movements becoming more urgent and erratic. His moans mingle with yours in a symphony of shared pleasure, the culmination of desire and connection that binds you together in this intimate moment.

As he finds release within you, his body stiffens with the force of his orgasm, his breaths ragged against your skin. He drawls out a long and desperate ‘fuck’ as he released his seed inside of you, painting your walls a pretty shade of white, the warmth of his cum somehow a soothing balm over to your shaking rapture.

Both of your hearts are racing as you come down, each of you just lost in sloppy kisses and hands roaming over one another. This was easily the most intense orgasm you have ever had thanks to the build-up that Jaeyun has provided and he feels the exact same way.

In the quiet aftermath, as you lie entwined and breathless, you revel in the depth of your connection with Jaeyun. Each gasp and whispered declaration of love reaffirms the bond you share, a bond forged through trust, intimacy, and the unrivalled pleasure of loving each other completely.

You look at him, his eyes still dazed but present. “I’m sorry you heard that phone call. I promise, I love you so much and you are enough for me, I don’t need anything more than I just need you.” You hope the words come across as sincere and heartfelt because you mean every syllable of it.

aeyun’s expression softens as he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. “I know, Princess,” he murmurs, his voice tender. “I love you too, more than anything. Nothing can shake what we have. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I can do more if you just ask.”

His words sink deep into your heart, reminding you of his unwavering commitment and willingness to fulfil your desires. You feel a pang of regret for not confiding in him sooner, for letting fear hold you back from sharing your deepest fantasies with the man who loves you unconditionally.

“That’s the thing,” you say softly, your fingers lightly tracing the contours of his face. “I was afraid. Afraid that if I told you, it might change things between us. I love you so much, Jaeyun, and the thought of losing you scared me more than anything.”

Jaeyun’s gaze holds yours with such tenderness that it melts away your remaining doubts. “You’ll never lose me, Princess,” he reassures, his thumb brushing over your lips. “I want us to explore everything together, to share in each other’s desires and pleasures. Your happiness means everything to me.”

His sincerity washes over you like a soothing wave, filling you with a sense of relief and newfound courage. You realise now that true intimacy lies not only in physical connection but also in emotional honesty and vulnerability.

“I promise to communicate better,” you vow, meeting his gaze with determination. “To trust in us, in our love, and to share everything with you, no matter how wild or unconventional.”

He laughs heartily, his pretty teeth coming into display as he shakes his head. “I’ll do whatever you want, baby. Just say the kink and I’m there.”

You nod and press your lips against his, your body instinctively laying upon his, your thighs now straddling his side as your tongue explores his mouth with fervour. You hope everyone in the world gets to experience the love and trust that you and Jaeyun have,

Drawing back, he looks at you a little seriously, causing you to sit up straight. “We do need to talk about your computer password being Lee Jaeyun’s birthday and not mine,” he says half jokingly, half serious

Narrowing your eyes, you look deep into his. “Now, how do you know what my computer pin is?”

Instead of giving you an answer, he pulls you in closer, enveloping your lips with his as he swirls his tongue gently with his, hoping to distract you from the question It should only take a few more orgasms to make sure you never remember the question, saving him the scolding he would get for checking your password.

Maybe he’ll gag you this time, just in case.

perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @pockettwinzz @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @emi-en @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @iikeustar @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx

[hxnbi]

⸻ ❀°。❝ SHORT STACK ❞

requested by @kuppuru: furin boys + togame with short reader

pairings. hajime umemiya, hayato suo, haruka sakura, ren kaji, kyotaro sugishita, jo togame x gn. reader (separate)

note: tysm for your request! sorry if it took so long to write, i was suffering with exams but im finally free now. this goes to all my fellow short ppl out there 🫡 i also just wanted an excuse to find these goofy photos of my boys lmao

𝄞 ─ HAJIME UMEMIYA ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

What do you mean by that? You’re his significant other and that's all that matters! If anything, that only makes you even more adorable!

UMEMIYA's natural inclination to be clingy and protective intensifies tenfold when he's around you. As you often find yourself enveloped in his arms, whether it's at home, out for a walk, or even at a crowded event. He towers over you, using his height—and admittedly effective intimidation tactics, thanks to him being the leader of Furin—to shield you from the world’s troubles. 

"Up we go!" he jokes, effortlessly picking you up from out of nowhere and spinning you around like a merry-go-round carousel.

“Ume?!” you yelp in surprise.

Without realizing it, his face lights up like a neon sign, and he lets out a loud, joyful laugh. You’re so sweet! How could he not adore you?

Umemiya goes into press his lips against your cheek and buries his face in your neck. "You’re my perfect little charm." His laughter and love are almost infectious. 

Umemiya’s protectiveness doesn’t just stop at physical proximity, but extends to every aspect of your life. He’s always looking out for you, making sure no one dares to mess with you (not that anyone with a half-functioning nervous system would, anyway). Your height didn’t matter and will never matter to him, not when he sees you as his perfect partner and his other half, just the way you are.

𝄞 ─ HAYATO SUO ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

Without a doubt in my mind, SUO's a person who's all for teasing you. In fact, he revels in it. Even after calling the relationship official, Suo’s playfulness doesn’t stop. Rather, it only increases with time. Suo is all for teasing you about your height, flaunting his own height difference with that characteristic closed-eye smirk of his.

“Oh dear, do you perhaps need help?” he teases, pointing at something on a high shelf with one hand while the other resting at his back. “Would you like me to get you a ladder?” he asks 'kindly,' making you deadpan.

Suo finds your petite stature irresistibly cute, and he never misses a chance to remind you of it. But, to the surprise of nobody, like everything else in his life, he’s not as shamelessly open about it in public as opposed to in private. Rather, I see Suo bringing your height up when you least expect it, in hopes of getting a reaction from you recorded in his mind.

Though his teasing is always good-natured, Suo knows your boundaries well. He can tell when you're uncomfortable, especially around others. That alone is enough to make Suo's usual mischievous brows furrow, and he stares down whoever dares to cross the line, especially when he's around. His protective instincts kick in without hesitation. That, despite his constant banter, it’s clear that he adores you deeply, his eyes filled with warmth and affection so unlike his public persona that he discloses to the world.

𝄞 ─ HARUKA SAKURA ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

Okay, and? What about it? Who the fuck cares? He’ll just deal with anyone if they even dare to give you shit about it. SAKURA's nonchalant attitude towards your height is evident. He couldn't care less what others think, and he's ready to put anyone in their place if they dare to give you any trouble about it.

"If anyone has a problem with your height, they’ll have to deal with me," he barked, a protective arm around your shoulders. "And trust me, they won't like it.”

Nirei and Suo could only deadpan in unison seeing this. ‘He’s just a big softie…’ they both thought.

Regardless, his feelings for you don’t change. Sakura has also been through a lot. The people who berated and made fun of him due to things he didn’t have control over—his unconventional appearance—why do they care? Why should someone ever care? He understands how it feels to be judged for superficial reasons and is fiercely protective of you because of it. As for you? You felt warm, knowing he always has your back. 

Your height has nothing to do with who you are as a person, and he’s learning that, step by step. He’s always ready to defend you, ensuring you never have to go through the pain and ridicule he did, and not just because of your height, something you never had a peace or sovereignty over. Perhaps, he sees a bit of himself in you.

𝄞 ─ REN KAJI ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

Doesn't treat you any differently. And why should he? Is there some kind of top-secret reason that he's unaware of? Why should such a thing as height matter in his relationship? Dude grills his vice-captain Kusumi to get the full story, until he realizes that there is none. Tch, do you think he cares about bullcrap like that? Well suck it up, you shouldn't and never have to worry about such an outrageous thing.

KAJI continues to be his calm and composed self (when he isn’t blasting music until his ears bled), offering you the same level of respect and affection as always. Because, after all, "Why would your height change anything about how I feel?" he scoffed, putting back his headphones and closing the conversation right there, making you crack a smile at how matter-of-fact he was. 

Kaji’s grounded nature makes you feel secure. Height, weight, appearance, all those superficial aspects of a person doesn’t matter to him. It never did, because you never judged him for how he was. All he's doing is returning the favour to the one he one he loves, nothing more.

…So why are you looking at him with those sparkling eyes like he just found a cure for cancer?

𝄞 ─ KYOTARO SUGISHITA ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

SUGISHITA is in the same boat as Kaji, and, in actuality, it’s even more pronounced, as, while Sugishita doesn’t say a word, he’s quietly observant. Your height is just another characteristic to him that he loves in you, nothing that affects his feelings or how he treats you.

He is but a silent trooper that stands at your side.  Admittedly, it gets funny at times, seeing the difference in height between you and Sugishita, apparently especially when walking side by side. But he doesn’t mind. To him, your height is just another thing that makes you uniquely you. And all with a stoic grunt and a subtle smile that he tries to hide, but the hearts in his eyes don’t disappear with such that. 

“They’re so cute, aren’t they? You just have to show it!!” Umemiya says. And show it, he does.

The way Sugishita pats your head and cheeks, similar to how Umemiya would to the same to him, is his way of expressing affection—all in the most awkward way possible, as Sakura would scoff while the trio of Suo, Nirei, and him would from a distance. 

“...The hell is he doing? Does he treat them like a puppy or something?"

“S-Sakura-san!! Y-You might want to—”

All Sugishita would see was red, and it wasn't just from Suo's hair. "YOU—"

But don’t let that fool you. The end was anything but pleasant, as yet another chair became a victim of Sugishita’s wrath, and was broken that exact day, much to the dismay of Umemiya. 

𝄞 ─ JO TOGAME ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

TOGAME's initial reaction to your height is one of surprise, with the way he would stare and drill holes into your skull, genuinely amazed at how someone could be so short and yet so oblivious, like you didn’t have a care in the world. But his curious stare quickly transforms into admiration. At first, you really thought that he was judging you, from the way his eyes would stare down at you for seemingly uncomfortable amounts of time, but to Togame, it was nothing more than fascination. You were so petite (to him), to the point of being even adorable… 

Togame ran his fingers through his locks of hair. Shit, if you ever knew.

His best friend Choji is a bit on the shorter side, sure, but you? You were like some kind of tiny sprite. Unbeknownst to you, he finds your petite stature almost endearing in a way. And unintentionally or not, takes it as an opportunity to be even more attentive and caring over you. Togame’s affection is shown through his actions, whether it's reaching for items you can’t, or holding your hand protectively in crowded places. Whether it’s out of a sense of curiosity or if he truly loves you, one thing is clear, he can't help but show his affection in every little gesture.

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡

[evie-sturns]

secret - Chris Sturniolo

summary: chris wants to keep your relationship a secret from the fans, which means he is never around as much as he should be. this sparks an argument, where chris suggests that you 'should just leave.'

contains: angst, cocky!chris, crying, fluff, yelling, comforting.

----------------------≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫----------------———

i lay in chris and i's bed, wrapped up comfortably in the thick sheets.

my head snaps up to look at chris as he swings open the door, he walks inside the room wearing a white tanktop and some black sweatpants.

"just gonna go film." he says vaguely before walking out of the room,

"chris- can i come!?" i call out,

"y/n, no. we talked about this" chris sighs, i get up out of bed and walk towards him,

"please- i don't have to be in it, i just haven't seen you for like a week." i say softly, chris shakes his head, practically discarding me.

"i see you every week, ill be gone for about two hours okay?" chris says blankly,

i feel my face grow hot with embarrassment, i feel like im practically begging for chris to want me, even though im his girlfriend. anger courses through my body, pushing me to my breaking point.

"why- why do you not care about me- or anything i have to say!" i raise my voice, pointing my fingers at chris's chest as i glare my eyes.

"you don't scare me y/n." chris chuckles, bringing my finger down from his chest.

"proves my fucking point! right there--!" i yell, chris just stares at me with a smug smile on his face.

"we agreed to keep us a secret-" chris starts, but i cut him off

"we both agreed to keep us a secret from your fans, not everyone else you've ever known! yes- i get it your fans will be mad but you're- your'e-" my voice breaks as i turn away from him

"don't be acting all pissy because i have a job and you don't." he raises his voice at me,

"excuse you?" i almost laugh,

"yeah, get a grip y/n, honestly." chris sighs, grabbing his phone and going to walk out.

"don't fucking leave-" i shout, "you're a horrible person chris-" i say, holding back floods of tears.

"maybe you're just being a sensitive little bitch?" chris says, the regret is prominent on his face as soon as those words leave his mouth.

"you're being- so mean-" my voice breaks, tears rolling down my flushed face.

"then leave- i'm actually done with you're bullshit, please leave." chris raises his voice.

i look up at him, "actually-?" i say through loud sobs,

he hesitates for a second before speaking, "i- i dont know- if you can handle me being popular then leave-"

"your ego is incredible you asshole-" i squeeze out, walking past him.

he grabs my chin and stops me in my tracks, his large hand clasped tight around my small chin. "excuse me?" he looks down at me,

"i'm going to find nick." i sigh loudly,

"no you're not." chris states,

"i thought we were done?" i say with a loud cry, i wipe my tears away quickly.

suddenly matt peeks his head through the door, "everything okay in here?" matt asks with concern clear on his face

“fuck off matt, genuinely.” chris raises his voice,

“dude, you’re making her cry-“ matt points out, his eyes locking with mine.

“and it’s none of your business, fuck off!” chris yells shakily at matt,

matt walks into the room angrily, pushing chris’s shoulder. chris let’s go of my chin, discarding me.

“you want my girl now?” chris almost laughs as he approaches matt,

“she’s literally like my little sister and i’ve known her my whole life- so god forbid i ask if she’s okay after i hear you scream at her through the walls!” matt grows angry,

“y/n can’t understand that the fans can’t know about me and her, that’s literally it- she’s just being ignorant, like always.” chris speaks as though i’m not here,

“sort your shit out chris.” matt mutters, pushing chris backwards before walking out of the room.

“i- i think i’m gonna go to matt’s room.” i whisper, barely audible.

“yeah- go fuck him while you’re at it.” chris says with a petty tone,

i let out a frustrated sigh before pushing his shoulder back with an angry sob.

“pathetic.” chris scoffs, “do it harder-“ he taunts,

i storm out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me with a loud bang.

i swing open the door to matt’s room, he’s sat at the edge of his bed on his phone.

“matt-“ i sniffle, matt looks up at me before standing up,

“hey- hey you okay?” matt asks frantically, his voice soft.

“i think chris just broke up with me-“ my voice breaks, matt wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a hug.

“i’m sure he didn’t, he’s just upset right now, you think?” matt whispers into my hair,

i nod, “you can stay in my room tonight, i’ll get the spare mattress.” he suggests, i nod as tears continue to pour down my face.

“i hate him- ihatehimihatehimihatehim.” i sob, matt rubs my back,

“no you don’t, arguments are normal, it happens.” matt sighs.

“i do- hes so mean to me!” i bury my face into my hands.

“shh- sh it’s okay.” matt says, “are you in your pyjamas?” matt asks,

i nod, “okay- then let’s get out the mattress and you can get to sleep.” matt states.

he lets me go before tugging out the matress from under his bed, he throws a couple of blankets and pillows on it before handing me his pug stuffed animal,

“you want this for tonight?” matt asks with a small laugh, i grab the small pug stuffed animal before flopping down on the mattress on the floor.

matt’s always been like a big brother for me, he’s always cared about me so much.

matt bends down and covers me in the blankets, tucking me in. “try have a good sleep okay?” matt whispers, i nod with a small ‘thank you’.

————-

4:23am

i stir awake slowly, i sit up off the matress and look over at matt who’s fast asleep on the bed beside me.

i stand up before stumbling over to the door swiftly, the need to go to the bathroom is overwhelming.

i slowly creak open matt’s door and step out into the corridor.

my footsteps slap against the cold wood as i yawn loudly

i swing open the door to the bathroom, and i’m met with him.

chris.

he’s sitting on the edge of the bathtub, scrolling on his phone. i turn on the warm light which illuminates the small bathroom.

“oh-“ i whisper, spinning back around and reaching for the door handle.

“no- no please come back-“ chris’s voice wobbles.

he’s wearing spider-man pyjama shorts, the same ones that i teased him for a couple weeks ago.

he’s got a thin white shirt on and his brunette hair is messed up completely, his eyes are bloodshot and swollen along with his puffy lips and pink cheeks.

he stands up, looking down at me. i can see the gears in his brain physically spinning as he tries to think of what to say.

“i-i’m sorry i’m still here- i was gonna pack up in the morning.” i break the silence with a couple deep breaths.

chris’s face drops, he buries his face into his hands with a shake of his head.

“i- i didn’t mean that- i was just so caught up in the heat of the moment and i really- really- don’t want to loose you.” chris starts, his eyes watering

“and i’m so sorry for taking you for granted. i love you more than anything, i love you more than anything ever.” chris’s voice breaks loudly, he goes silent as his body jolts up and down.

“are you crying?” i ask softly, he nods.

i don’t say anything, just wrapping my arms around him, he hugs me back weakly.

he buries his head into my shoulder, his soft hair covers half my face.

“and- i’m sorry for crying i just- don’t want you to think i’m only crying for sympathy i just feel really upset.” chris clarifies, i laugh softly,

“i know sweetheart,” i sigh,

“and— and- you don’t have to forgive me- ever— i said proper mean stuff to you.” chris’s voice trembles,

“i forgive you, i just want my old chris back, yeah?” i rub his back,

“you will get that- forever-“ chris sniffs.

we stand in the cold of the bathroom, his arms holding me tightly now, as though he’s afraid to let me go.

i stroke his hair lightly with my manicured nails,

“chris- i don’t mean to ruin this moment but i really really need to pee- that’s why i came in here—“

-

@sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s@ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonly @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos

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[piichuu]

♡ LOVE IT IF WE MADE IT - GETO SUGURU

WARNINGS: hurt to comfort, gn!reader

WORD COUNT: 619

JUNE DRABBLES

“i think we should break up.” “huh?”

you look at geto with wide eyes after those dreaded words you never thought you would hear come out of his mouth. it’s not that you didn’t know that something was wrong, he’s been stuck in his bed for days and barely eaten anything, but you didn’t think he’d fallen out of love with you.

“why? i thought we were good, did i do something?” you ask, sitting up in bed as you will certainly not be able to fall asleep after hearing this. you also switch the small lamp beside the bed on to get a good look at your boyfriend’s face.

he looks pale as he has for the last couple of days and there are already tears welling up in his eyes. “you haven’t done anything. i still love you more than anyone else in this entire world, but i’m gonna ruin you if we stay together. i honestly don’t know why you’ve stayed with me for this long, i feel like i’m going crazy.”

he doesn’t look at you, just up at the ceiling. is he really saying this? “why would you ruin me? i don’t understand, suguru. i don’t want to break up,” you look at him with tears in your eyes, letting out a sniffle which causes him to immediately sit up in bed and wrap his arms around your waist.

“i’m not well. i don’t know what to do…i just don’t want to weigh you down and be a burden. i don’t want you to start hating me,” geto mumbles while brushing his fingers through your hair. “i love you so much but i don’t want you to have to think about me and my troubles all the time…”

you pull away slightly to cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you as you’re trying to stay composed. “just because you’re going through something doesn’t mean i’m just going to leave you. i wouldn’t have become your partner just to be here in your best times. you wouldn’t just leave me if i got depressed and didn’t want to do anything, right? even if i went a little crazy.”

he shakes his head. “of course not.” “then don’t try to break up with me because you think it’s best for me, because i’m not leaving you. i’m gonna stay right here and help you through this, okay? i could never hate you, and you never have to worry about that. i’m right here and i’m staying right here.”

geto looks smaller than he did just a month ago. he’s grown weaker and more tired, but hearing you talk like this, almost as if you’re fighting for him, he can feel a smile growing at the corners of his lips while his eyes are still filled with tears, some beginning to run down his cheeks. “are you sure, i-“ “yes i’m sure. i love you suguru and i’m gonna stay here.”

you hold him a little closer and allow him to bury his face into the crook of your neck. “i’m sorry for suggesting to break up, i just thought it was best for you,” he mutters while clinging onto your shirt, like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. “i don’t know what’s going on with me.”

“it’s okay, we’ll figure it out together,” you place a kiss to his cheek. “you’ll be okay and i’ll be here through everything, there’s nothing to worry about.”

he nods and smiles softly, pulling away to look at you. “i don’t know what i did to deserve you, you’re the love of my life,” he speaks before pressing his lips against yours, never wanting to let go.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

First Name Basis

Summary: Aaron Hotchner x Fe!Reader -> You and Hotch have never been on First Name Basis, but as the years go on, thing begin to change.

Disclaimer: Mentions and descriptions of blood, bombs, life being in danger, slight spoilers for S4-Ep3 (Minimal Loss - Reader takes Emily's place) (But that isn't the whole fic). BAU found-family fluff, romantic fluff, soft fluff, happy ending. Not Proof Read.

You were on a first name basis with everyone. Everyone save from Hotch. 

Of course, he would introduce you with your first name when it came to meeting police departments or official personnel but to anyone else, specifically yourself, he always used your last name. 

And you did the same with him. Like the rest of them. 

It was always “Sir,” or “Hotch,”. 

Never Aaron. 

However, this all changed after a case in Colorado. 

Yourself and Reid had gone undercover as Child Protection Agents. And it wasn’t long until things went wrong. An unknown police raid meant everyone was taken underground. And a media segment revealed that someone was FBI. 

Between yourself and Spencer, you took the rapt. You weren’t willing to watch him get shot and die. 

On the other side of the planted bug, the team could hear everything. 

And it was killing Hotch.

And Rossi could see it. 

They all could. 

His own mind was fighting against listening because he had to, and not because you were being beaten. 

A small grunt left you as you were thrown into something, and then a crash came. A mirror most likely. More grunts and one scream before…nothing. 

It was the first time in a long time his emotions had started pushing to the surface. 

Every day, he had to become an emotionless yet empathetic profiler. But at that moment…he didn’t know what he was. He was a profiler, a friend, a…he didn’t know what he was. 

“Y/n…”

His voice was barely audible. A hair above a whisper. 

But Rossi saw it. 

Even if Aaron didn’t know it yet, Rossi knew. 

Then you spoke. 

“I can take it.”

There were more sounds of fighting before another. 

“I can take it.”

“She’s antagonising him!” Derek shouted. 

“No, she’s not.”

“She’s talking to us.” Hotch told them both. “She’s telling us not to come in.”

And he didn’t. 

It was killing him not to do so, but he didn’t. 

But the moment he got a chance, writing the time of “3 am” on the takeaway box, he wouldn’t be turning back. 

When he finally saw you, a wave of relief washed over him. And the same happened for you, too. 

Once you both caught clear sight of one another, you ran towards him. 

He could see the dried blood on your face, partly washed away. And your eye was bruised. And your arms were cut up, most likely from the mirror that had broken. 

But you were alive. 

Finally reaching him, you hugged him. And he hugged you. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, “I will be. Where’s Morgan and Reid?”

“They’re inside-”

The place blew up. 

Hotch covered you a little, both of you feeling the aftershock of the bomb. The hand you kept on his shoulder pulled him down a little with you. But after you made sure the other was alive, you both turned back to the building. And you started walking closer to it. 

“Morgan! Reid!”

They stood up. 

“Oh, thank god.”

Making your way up the stairs, you met a coughing Morgan and Reid before Reid finally stood tall and you hugged him. 

After that case, everything seemingly went back to normal. 

Until another case came, only a few months later. 

A bomb had been planted in a building. And, when tracking the Unsub into another one, yourself and Hotch had found yourselves stuck. 

The Unsub held a trigger, and by the looks of it, he was wearing one. 

But you couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in your stomach. 

Something wasn’t right. 

“So, what happens next? You blow yourself up? What happened to “getting all the glory”? That’s what you said, isn’t it? In your message. It was all about the glory.”

Yourself and Hotch took another step forward, but then he unzipped his jacket. 

“Another step and I take my finger off the trigger.” He warned. 

Neither of you moved, but your gaze did switch. 

The bomb the Unsub was wearing wasn’t one you recognised. It wasn’t his type. 

By the time SWAT and Bomb Disposal met you at the top of the building, it wasn’t long before he just…gave up. 

“He took hostages from the last site.”

“But we found them all.” 

Hotch nodded in agreement. “I still want to do a sweep just in case.”

“I’ll come with you.”

By the time you both reached the fourth floor, you still couldn’t shake the feeling. 

And just as Hotch reached a small storage unit, it clicked. 

“It was a fake.”

“What?”

“The bomb, around his chest. It’s a fake.”

“Why fake a bomb and then give yourself up?”

Then it clicked with the both of you. 

“How many agents are in this building?”

“Enough to keep this case in the news for the next fifty years.”

“We need to clear the building now.”

By the time you both reached the floor, calling for every agent to clear the building, someone came and found Hotch. 

“We found his briefcase. You’re gonna want to see this.”

Walking over, both yourself and Aaron peered inside. There were plans, memos, and enough cash to give him a whole new life in any country he could possibly want. 

“Get all of this processed as soon as you can.”

And Hotch walked away. 

But you stayed. 

However, the longer you stayed, the bigger that gnawing feeling in your stomach grew again. 

And once you finally lifted a pile of cash, you saw it. 

A watch with a timer. 

“Morgan! Clear the area, now!”

People started running but when you did so, Hotch was still in his place. 

“Aaron!”

Grabbing his arm on your way past, you both started running. And whether it was luck, or fate or…whatever it was. Yourself and Aaron managed to clear the site fast enough so as to not die from the explosion. 

You both were propelled forward, and landed, rolling onto the ground. And for a few moments, were stunned from the blast. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, managing to catch your breath. “I’m fine. Are you?”

“I think so.”

Once you were able to open your eyes, you sat back on your heels and took a look at Hotch. He was sitting in a similar position to you, except he was bleeding. 

You pushed yourself closer to him, “Jesus, Hotch. You’re bleeding.”

Once you touched it, he seemed to feel it and tried to move his head away from your hand, but you pulled him back. 

“Don’t move.”

Through your wire, you called for a medic. 

“Y/l/n, I’m fine.”

“Hotch, you’re bleeding. You’re not fine.”

“So are you.”

You shook your head and turned away for a moment, pulling out your pocket knife and cutting the torn piece of your t-shirt. 

“Wait.”

Hotch took the cloth from your hands before tearing it into two and handing you a piece back, but keeping one for himself. 

Just as you pressed the cloth to his head, he did the same for your cut. There wasn’t much blood coming from your head, so once he knew that had slowed at least, he dabbed at the wound on your arm before tying the piece tight around your arm. 

Once the medics finally reached you both, you told them what injuries Hotch had and might have. 

“Check her over, too. She’s got a cut on her head. She could have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion.”

The medic had helped you up from the floor and when they did so, you felt a little dizzy. 

Hotch didn’t even have to say anything. 

“Shut up.”

Thankfully, the next time either of you talked on a first name basis was when on a short vacation. 

Considering the fact that no-one of the team was due to go on holiday or drive out of state for at least three more days, Penelope Garcia took it upon herself to plan a small getaway for the entire team that meant even if they got called back (as you all usually would), you would have, at least, a break away. 

So, on a random Friday morning, you all drove to the beach. 

And it was fun, to say the least. 

By the time you arrived, you parked next to Will’s car. Both himself and JJ were getting Henry ready along with the beach bags and diaper bags. From what you could tell, everyone else was already on the beach. 

“Need some help?”

JJ nodded. “That would be great.”

“Hi, Henry. Is this his first trip to the beach?”

JJ smiled and nodded. “It is.”

“We did try and take him a few weeks ago but then he got a fever.” Will told you. 

“Well, it’ll all be worth it.”

Will handed you a couple of the bags whilst he carried the rest and JJ carried Henry, along with her beach bag, onto the beach. 

The minute you spotted Morgan flirting with a group of women a few feet from the water, you spotted Jack playing in the sand with Emily and Penelope. Spencer was trying to avoid the sun and Hotch was finishing setting up the area with a couple of windbreakers and chairs, with Rossi. 

And once you, JJ and Will arrived; the two dads continued setting up with the addition of sun parasols. 

It wasn’t long before Jack had come running up to get his dad and yourself to join him. JJ handed you Henry for a moment whilst she dug through the diaper bag to find the fruit pouches she had brought with her. 

From behind you, Aaron set up another parasol giving both yourself and Henry shade.

“I’ve put Henry’s fruit pouches in the cooler. Ready to go?”

Lifting her son from your arms, JJ carried Henry down to the water whilst Will grabbed his camera. And yourself and Aaron joined Jack, Emily and Penelope. 

By the end of the day, you had all swam in the water, built sandcastles, sunbathed, read and even been chased by Morgan when he realised yourself. Reid and Hotch had been hustling him in a game of football. 

And at some point after all of that, you must have fallen asleep because you woke up to someone lightly shaking your shoulder. 

“Y/n, hey, y/n…”

As you slowly came around, you realised it was Hotch. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine.” 

It was odd. 

His voice was soft. It was rare, if slightly unbelievable, that Hotch showed this side of him. The one he had for Jack. The one he had for those he held close to his heart. 

“The others went for some food, they should be back soon. Garcia said she knew your order. Pizza with fries and a side of pickles.”

“That’s my girl.” You said with a sleepy smile. 

“Pickles? With Pizza? Really?”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.”

Then he laughed. “Okay, I won’t.”

You smiled at his laughter. And then you thought. In all the years you knew him, you couldn’t think of a time where you had heard him laugh. Sure, you’d seen him smile a little over the years. But before The Beach…you had never heard him laugh. 

And it was like music to your ears. 

Unknown, at first, but then very quickly became your favourite song. 

By the time the others got back, Jack was excited you were awake and ran over to you, jumping towards you and you fell back with him in your arms. 

Aaron laughed again, “Jack, let Y/n breathe.”

“Penelope got you pickles.”

“Extra pickles.” She said as she handed you the pizza box and takeaway tub with fries and pickles. 

“Have I ever told you you’re a saint?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

“Well you are a Saint, Penelope Garcia.”

“She has to be, for buying you pickles with pizza.” Morgan added. 

The rest of the evening passed with stories, smiles and even more laughter. 

It was also after that day you noticed when Hotch called you by your name. It hadn’t clicked with you right away, when he woke you up. But when you fell asleep in the round table room after more than 30 hours of work, you noticed it more. 

Usually, whenever you fell asleep when case hours ran over, you would be jolted awake by someone (typically Hotch) calling your last name. 

But since The Beach, you were woken up with a soft touch to your arm, shaking you lightly, before he said your first name. 

“Go home, get some rest.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

You grumbled, sitting up. “By the time I get home, I’ll be on my way back.”

Hotch sighed. “Fine. But you can use the sofa in my office. It’s better than your desk.”

“Thanks, Hotch.”

However, a few months later, something else changed. 

A case had been brought into the roundtable room, and everyone was there. Except for you. 

“Not like Y/l/n to be late.” Rossi said, pulling out his chair. 

“Try her again.” Hotch told Garcia. 

“Yes, Sir.”

“Maybe she’s just catching up on sleep.” JJ offered. 

“Why would she be catching up on sleep? We all landed back here two nights ago.”

“Is she dating?” Morgan asked. 

Hotch looked up. 

“No, but her neighbours are.” JJ told them. 

“Ooh, that’s gotta be tough.” Prentiss said. “Back in college, I had a roommate the same. Many sleepless nights. That was when I bought my first pair of noise cancelling headphones.”

Garcia called you three more times. 

“We’ll continue with the case,” Hotch told everyone. “We can catch her up when she wakes up.”

Except two hours later, you still hadn’t picked up. 

And then Hotch got a phone call.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m going to find Y/n,” Hotch told Rossi as he passed him. 

“Do you know where she is?”

“A good idea.”

“I’ll come with you.”

After thirty minutes, and eventually passing the turn for your apartment complex, Rossi spoke up. 

“Her apartment-”

“I know, but she won’t be there.”

“Then where is she?”

“She has a second home.”

Rossi didn’t say anything but he couldn’t help but notice that Aaron knew the way, without having to put anything into the GPS. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Hotch sighed a little. Part of him didn’t want to, because he didn’t know if you would want anyone to know. But he’d gone this long without telling Rossi. 

“There was a crash this morning. Don’t worry, she wasn’t hurt. But one of her friends was. They’re okay, too. They’re being kept in the hospital for a few days but were more worried about Y/n’s reaction.” 

“How did she react?”

“She didn’t.”

“Well, that’s not good.”

Pulling up outside of your home, Aaron stepped out and rushed towards the door, finding the spare key and letting himself in. The doorbell camera would have let you know they were there. 

And then he called your name.

Rossi took in the structure and the decoration of your home. He didn’t know you owned a property outside of your apartment, but by the looks of it, you spent more time outside of work here than you did at your apartment. 

There were photos of yourself with your friends, as well as the team. It was tidy, and the place smelt of blueberries and cinnamon. 

Turning around the bottom of the stairs, Aaron took them two at a time before reaching the top and when he did, Rossi could see him standing on the landing, as well as stall when you called back. 

“Aaron?”

Coming from out of your room, you walked down the hall and Rossi watched as Aaron’s demeanour changed. In the car, he had been tense. In fact, he had been tense since you hadn’t walked into the office. 

But standing at the top of the stairs, hearing your voice as well as seeing you, he relaxed. 

And his voice became softer. 

“Hey,”

You walked towards him and he hugged you instantly. 

“How did you find me?”

“The hospital called. The nurse said Abby was worried about you. Are you okay?”

Aaron moved back a little to examine your face. You had been crying. Your eyes were a little puffy and your cheeks were tear-stained. 

With his thumb, he wiped away the streaks and you melted into his touch for a second. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you?” 

You nodded, “I just…it scared me, you know?”

Aaron nodded. “What do you need?”

“A hug?”

A light smile graced his lips for a moment. “I can do that.”

And he embraced you, tightly. Securely. 

Rossi smiled for a moment before quietly walking away to snoop through your house. And by the time you both walked downstairs, you hand in Aaron’s, Rossi was in the kitchen. 

“Next time Penelope tries to arrange a dinner party, we’re holding it here.”

“So long as you cook.”

“But I don’t see any-”

You and Aaron gave each other a knowing look before you moved and opened up two cabinet doors. It contained three different spice racks, a selection of dry herbs and all standard ingredients to make any one of Rossi’s signature sauces. 

He’d given you enough recipes over the years (not that you didn’t have to work to get them – there had been so many coffee runs) that you made sure you always had the main ingredients needed, and you could always pick up fresh ones on your way home. 

“You’re not the best snooper.”

“I’m a profiler. Not a detective.”

“You’re still an FBI Agent.” Aaron added, backing you up. 

“So, sue me.”

After that case, nothing else changed. 

Both yourself and Aaron remained on a first name basis. Especially considering that two years later, you and Aaron started to share the same last name. 

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

foolish spring winds, blow my way ; satoru gojo

summary; a snippet of the spring you share with a certain satoru gojo — who seems intent on making your high school life as difficult as possible.

word count; 5.4k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, enemies to friends (..but the ’enemy’ part is kinda one-sided), fluffy n sweet overall, satoru doesn’t know how to make friends + thinks lighthearted bullying constitutes as a bonding activity, he’s a little shit but he means well, switching povs, lots of gojo slander (but reader sees the light eventually), big shoujo vibes, they’re both tsunderes <33

a/n; i ended up scrapping the series i wrote this fic for originally, so i thought i’d rewrite it and repost it on its own!! teentoru is such a grumpy little kitten i need to squish his paws

satoru gojo is annoying.

it might seem blunt, but after many weeks of careful thinking, you’ve decided no description could possibly fit him better. 

when you first met him, on that first day of school, you had no idea what to think. no real expressions or tonal shifts to clue you in on who he was, how he felt — nothing but the slightest peek of a terrifying blue to set your nerves on edge. 

in hindsight, you’re almost certain it was intentional. he wanted to appear unreadable. purposefully hiding his personality and mannerisms, to gain the upper hand — observing you, dissecting you inside his mind, while revealing nothing about himself apart from his surname. 

it’s a kind of power; a safety measure.

… but evidently, holding back isn’t exactly gojo’s forte. the very next morning, he was already beginning to loosen up, after getting more accustomed to the new environment and classmates. showing you his true colours; just a little hint of cerulean, a single dip of paint on the blank canvas of his soul.

and with the revelation of his genuine personality — your unease around him festered even more.

where could you even begin to describe him? for one, he’s childish. and cocky. and loud. arrogant, selfish and flamboyant — just generally an asshole? you could go on and on. none of the traits are particularly flattering, and you know he couldn’t care less.

gojo is annoying, plain and simple. almost constantly up to something, eager to push someone’s buttons, to get attention. like a bratty toddler. uninterested in manners, or even common courtesy; he says what he feels, regardless of how other people take it. 

to put it simply, he has no regard for the people around him. his self-interest is limitless. 

as if that wasn’t annoying enough — you have no choice but to admit that he does have a certain presence to him. a kind of charisma, or what you think could become charisma, if he’d just get off that high horse already. he won’t, though. you know he won’t. he revels in it, in looking down on everything and everyone, annoyingly boisterous and irritatingly tall. freaky, long limbs. like a noodle and an alien had a baby.

but, more than anything — above all else — what frustrates you most is the fact that his unbridled confidence isn’t exactly unwarranted.

as much as it pains you to say it… gojo is maybe just a little bit incredible. a natural-born genius. he’s intelligent, and observant, and awfully pretty, with those baby blues eyes and those snowy locks of hair. and he has no issue getting what he wants. 

absolutely zero. 

there’s something admirable about it, in a twisted way. like he doesn’t even need to try. he’s good at anything, if he just gives it a single chance. you can only assume he’s never given much thought to the prospect of being a decent guy, because that’s the only thing he sucks at.

effortlessly perfect, in the most imperfect of ways. that’s probably how you’d describe him.

… annoying is still the most fitting word, though. or maybe obnoxious. he’s got this spoiled rich kid vibe that irks you, gets under your skin. you doubt he’s ever had to empathize with anyone, in his entire life. 

and, yes — maybe you’re being a little harsh to him. but why should you bother being jovial when he won’t return the favour?

gojo is annoying; and when you say that, you mean annoying to basically everyone. as a basis for existing. always teasing and taunting, looking down from that high horse of his. you’re no exception to this rule, of course. but you’re almost certain that he has it out for you specifically.

you know he looks down on you, from behind those tacky sunglasses. you’re sure of it.

compared to geto or shoko, you aren’t very self-assured — and you think he must have sensed it the moment he laid eyes on you. sensed that you’re a little meek, a bit of a doormat, easy to push around and get a rise out of. maybe he also noticed your apprehension towards him, your apparent unease. 

you’re easy prey, to put it simply.

evidently, he’s developed a fondness for getting under your skin. it started as soon as introductions were over, and it still hasn’t gotten better. he loves catching you off guard, throwing you an unneeded comment or two, just to see what reaction you’ll give him next. almost like he’s solving an equation — said equation being you, the limit of your patience. and you keep giving him what he wants; a scoff, a roll of your eyes, an earnest fuck right off. you can never seem to successfully ignore him. he’s just far, far too good at being insufferable.

… and, more than anything, he’s far too out of reach. even when you try to get along with him, it backfires. you don’t have a single thing in common. you don’t understand him at all. 

(and that suits you just fine.)

a heavy sigh slips from your parted lips, as you examine your blurry reflection in the surface of the mirror. fatigue clings to your skin like a layer of sweat, your mind muddled, stuffed with anxious thoughts and discomforting feelings.

you’re exhausted. completely and utterly spent, even though the day’s barely begun — running on three pitiful hours of sleep, all broken up and jumbled by nightmares that wouldn’t stop spooking you. not a single wink of proper rest. 

and it’s painfully obvious. in your face, your posture, the dark crescents beneath your eyes; in the way you can’t help but drag your legs as you walk, your hair disheveled, little sighs and grumbles slipping from your lips for every step you take. all you can do is sluggishly blink the exhaustion away.

you just feel so tired.

it could be worse, though. you don’t have any classes today, no real reason to get out of your comfy bed, leave the safety of your cozy little dorm room. but you need breakfast, right now, or else you’ll literally explode — so you still get up on shaky legs and try to mimic the appearance of someone… even moderately well-rested.

it doesn’t work, but that’s besides the point. 

so you make your way to the dormitory’s shared kitchen. walking idly — clumsily — enjoying the sight of fleeting, fluttering cherry blossoms through the windows you pass. little pink butterflies.

once you’ve crossed the threshold, you’re relieved to find the open space entirely devoid of people. no shoko, no geto, not even a mischievous gojo. running into the first two wouldn’t be the end of the world — but it still wouldn’t be ideal. you don’t want anyone seeing you like this, tired and meek, a little vulnerable.

(least of all gojo. you shiver at the bare thought.)

with laboured, groggy movements, you waltz around the kitchen, getting cups and plates and turning on the coffee machine. enjoying the soothing melody of the pan sizzling, singing along to the purring of espresso being made. it’s nice and pleasant to your sensitive ears, as you blink under the rays of sunlight shining in, throwing together a lazy breakfast. 

you waste no time in taking a seat by one of the tables once you’re finished. eager to soak in the peace and quiet, wolf down a sandwich and copious amounts of caffeine.

but, as always — the world seems to have it out for you specifically.

”oh? well, look who it is. and here i thought you had left too.”

you stiffen. ever so slightly, barely noticeable, but still enough that you physically feel the dread envelop every single cell of your body. the voice that echoes out across the open air is a chipper one, a familiar one. a voice you were desperately hoping not to hear today. 

all you can do is continue to sip from your cup of coffee, inwardly wincing, silently going through all five stages of grief simultaneously — before accepting your unfortunate predicament. 

(that’s just your luck, isn’t it?)

finally, you raise your weary head, knowing exactly what sight you’ll be met with once you do. 

and, lo and behold — there he is.

gojo looks the same as always. grinning brightly, a little woflish, wearing those ugly sunglasses and making his way across the room like he owns it. a trait you can’t help but admire, envy, hate and worship at the same time. he plops down next to you like it’s nothing, a little too close for comfort, unconcerned about your concept of personal space.

”whatcha up to?” he chirps, in that sugar sweet tone, layered over with a boyish kind of excitement. there’s a teasing tilt to it, too — the one that always accompanies his voice when he’s speaking to you.

under normal circumstances, you’d flip him off. maybe even just glare at him, silently, or raise a brow in challenge.

but you’re far, far too tired to. too anxious. too in need of sleep, in need of a peaceful breakfast that he oh so cruelly ripped from you. all you can muster is the energy to glance his way.

for just a second, your eyes meet. not like you can actually see them, from behind his glasses — but you know they’re there. menacing and uncanny, bright and excited. too much to handle, right now.

”… morning.”

as soon as the mutter has left your lips, you take a tentative bite of your sandwich. gaze trailing sluggishly back to your plate.

gojo blinks.

he immediately notes that your voice sounds meek. even more so than usual. he expected you to give him a scoff, or even just a timid huff — but no such luck. 

you’re just sitting there, quiet, curling into yourself.

after a moment’s consideration, gojo opts to look at you. to really look at you, study your face, the way those twitchy fingers move to curl around the ceramic handle of the cup you’re drinking out of. the way your eyes shift from place to place, unfocused, your eyelids flicking shut every couple seconds. slow.

he’s always been observant — but it doesn’t take a genius to see that you’re tired. 

gojo is silent, for no more than a mere moment; contemplating his next course of action. he’s never seen you like this, before. did something happen?

…

(— well, it doesn’t matter. not his problem.)

”you look like a zombie,” he grins, a little teasing, showing off the white of his teeth. even though you look out of it, he can’t help himself — despite his own intuition telling him to let you be. 

you’re just too fun to tease. suguru and shoko only ever raise their eyebrows at him, or stare him down like a misbehaving dog, but you always have a good reaction to give. something to entertain him when he’s bored, distract him when his mind is too full of noise. 

so he can’t help but tease you, a little. hoping it’ll soothe the restlessness inside his chest.

but for once, what gojo expects isn’t what he gets. 

what he expects is for you to glare at him. tell him to leave you alone, or even just sigh in exasperation — either one would be fine. it’s just mindless enjoyment, to him, a little fun to lighten up his day. 

especially now, when suguru is away on some day trip he wasn’t privy to. that traitor. shoko is nowhere to be seen, either, probably off smoking in some random alleyway. or hanging out with one of the kyoto losers.

… the whole dorm is so eerily quiet.

(gojo would never admit it, not in a thousand years… but maybe he’d feel just a little bit lonely without any of you around.)

for a while after waking up, he assumed he’d have to spend the whole day alone. no one to talk to, no one to look at. he was practically dying of boredom. but then he entered the kitchen — and saw his saving grace. his dear little irritable classmate. 

he was so relieved. content in the knowledge that he’d get to push your buttons to his heart’s desire, bask in your playful banter and cold, joking little looks until suguru finally comes home.

only this time — you don’t react at all. 

you don’t give him what he expects, don’t indulge his little antics, in the way he’s grown so accustomed to. you just keep eating your breakfast, and drinking your coffee, in total silence. 

gojo waits, just a couple moments more. hoping for a delayed reaction, a witty counter, a snarky comment. anything. 

but it never comes.

finally, he starts to sulk. slumping against the leather seat behind him, quieting down with a low huff. furrowing his brows, as his glossy, cherry-tasting lips curl down into a little pout.

honestly, he’s kind of annoyed. just what is your problem? what is with you, today? 

… it’s no fun if you’re not playing along. 

gojo can’t help but grumble, a little, under his breath. you’re usually so responsive, so easy to rile up. so what’s wrong? why are you just sitting there?

…

whatever. so what if you’re not talking to him? so what if you won’t even spare him a glance? gojo has better things to do, bigger fish to fry. he wasn’t even that excited, when he saw you. the thought of bantering with you didn’t lift his spirits, even in the slightest. 

not even a little bit.

…

but, really — would it take so much effort for you to just say something? to just respond to his friendly little quip? you can’t possibly be that tired. 

or, what — did you get insecure, or something? because he called you a zombie? no way. you’re not that sensitive… are you? or is that it? 

what a hassle.

you know he’s just messing with you. he knows you know. so why are you acting so…. 

(sad, gojo wants to think, but he buries the thought before it can reach his frontal cortex. he doesn’t want to empathize with you, not right now — doesn’t want to feel that discomforting pang in his chest.)

a strange sensation bubbles up in his chest. something frustrated, a little unnerved; at your lack of a reaction, the weak glint in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand why — and that frustrates him even more. 

why can’t you just bite back, like always?

(… it’s fun when you do.)

the silence lingers on, stretches out across the room, festers and grows as you gulp down your breakfast. all while gojo keeps on sulking, still sitting beside you, waiting for something to happen. he briefly considers getting up and leaving, or saying something annoying to hopefully spur you on —

but you stand up before he can convince himself to go through with either option.

having finished your breakfast, your legs carry you to the sink. finally, you can head back to your room. gojo’s being weirdly quiet, but you pay no mind to it; methodically washing your dishes in silence. 

you don’t bother saying goodbye to him, either. still sitting there, seemingly deep in thought, grumbling something under his breath. 

he watches as you leave, gaze trailing after you, until you’re completely out of sight. 

then he lays down, flat on his back, with a frustrated huff. trying desperately to brush away the memory of your dim eyes, the slight frown on your lips. the dark circles under your eyes, that he tried so hard not to notice because they made him feel so weirdly uncomfortable. the meek, meek look you gave him.

gojo sighs.

(he feels just a tiny, tiny bit bad.)

when you wake up from your slumber, you immediately note that your body feels lighter.

this time, no nightmares came to haunt you. having practically collapsed once your head hit the pillow, your body finally decided to give you some peace of mind, some well needed rest. thankfully.

with a groan, you lazily stretch out your limbs — enjoying the feeling of your veins waking up, gaze falling on the clock on your wall. you’ve only been asleep for about two hours, or so, but it’s more than enough to give you the little jolt of energy that you need.

what to do, what to do. you still have the whole day ahead of you. another nap wouldn’t hurt, but you don’t want to waste your precious free time just rotting in bed — maybe you could take a walk around the schoolyard instead? the cherry blossoms have started to unfurl, and the grounds of the school are just littered with them.

even just the mental image is enough to have you changing into some light and comfortable clothes, reaching a hand out to push your door open. excitement stirring in your veins.

as you do so, something is knocked over.

all you hear is a soft little thud, accompanied by the sensation of something colliding with the door. a low curiosity overtakes you — eagerly peeking around for a look at the mysterious something.

your gaze falls on something pink.

it’s tiny, awfully out of place, just laying unassumingly on the dusty floorboards. as you crouch down to get a better look, you recognize it instantly; a small carton of strawberry milk. a plastic straw plastered on its side, and an evil looking cow mascot staring at you from the front. one of the items sold in the schoolyard’s vending machines — your personal favorite. you drink it every time you need a tiny pick-me-up, the sweet taste always managing to soothe your spirits.

and it was sitting right outside your door.

you stare at it, silently, in deep contemplation. holding it in your hand as the gears turn inside your head. could someone have dropped it? no, that’s dumb — who’d drop it right outside your door and then not pick it up?

… did someone leave it for you, then? because they know you like it? that could be it, maybe, but who would —

…

your mind stills. 

(no way.)

when you think about it — that’s the only explanation that makes sense. shoko and geto aren’t there, and you barely know any of your senior students. yaga-sensei would never give you strawberry milk without a lecture on the dangers of cavities, either.

that just leaves one possible culprit.

but you can’t wrap your head around it. why would he do something like that? he doesn’t like you — you know that much. so it couldn’t possibly be him.

… then again, you have seen him drink it. both of you like it, contrary to your other classmates; shoko doesn’t like sweet things in general, and geto wouldn’t go for strawberry milk if he could choose something else. it might as well be the only thing you and gojo have in common — the one thing that binds you two together. 

a single carton of strawberry milk. 

it’s almost comical.

(if it’s really true — if he really did do it… then you wonder why. maybe he noticed that you were feeling under the weather, and figured it’d make you happy. 

you wonder if it’d be foolish of you, to believe that it’s true — if only because you kinda like the idea.)

your feet move on their own, before your mind has a chance to question the decision. 

where could he be? in the kitchen, still? in his dorm?

just as you begin to wonder, a flash of white dances in the corners of your vision. when you glance out the window, you see it; white, soft hair, like a fluffy cloud, in the midst of all the pink petals fluttering about. 

you stop.

then you start walking again. with more decision, this time. hurrying to the exit.

gojo is sitting right outside the dormitory, on a wooden bench, legs swinging idly as he gazes at the sky. his hair sways slightly with the breeze, soft strands moving and caressing his skin. pink petals dance all around him, gracefully descending down to the ground, together with a trail of bubbles. gojo is blowing them, haphazardly, following their movement with his keen eyes. they glimmer in the sunlight, reflecting all shades of the rainbow.

the sight is just a little bit breathtaking. 

the ground crunches beneath your feet, when you take a step forward — and gojo turns towards you. you stiffen like a deer in headlights, instantly regretting your decision. blinking nervously. you walked here almost entirely on impulse, but now that you’re face to face…

(it’s a little scary.)

… still, it’s far too late to back out now. you can’t do much except join him, so that’s exactly what you do — albeit a little hesitantly.

trying to ignore his continuous stare, burning into the side of your head, you plop down beside him. feeling the steady bench beneath you, breathing in the scent of sweet-smelling cherries and soap.

an uncomfortable silence lingers in the air around you both, as he waits for you to say something. 

it’s a little tough. mustering up the courage to say anything, even just to face him. the decisiveness you felt just a moment ago has faded, now only the ghost of a sensation — you’re too nervous to verbalize anything.

but eventually, after a deep breath or two, you force yourself to speak. hoping you won’t come to regret it.

”… hey, gojo?” 

it’s almost a whisper. soft and fragile, mumbled beneath your breath as you stare at the cherry trees in front of you. you know his eyes are on you, though. you can feel them, almost feel their weight in the palm of your hand. like marbles.

weakly, you raise up the carton of strawberry milk. glancing over at him, not quite managing a smile, but trying your best to look somewhat appreciative. 

”thanks.”

a confused blink. gojo looks down the strawberry milk, and then back up at you. eyelashes fluttering.

a moment passes. 

then he turns his head away, swiftly, his hair tousled by the movement — a couple pink petals stuck between the soft strands. you can’t see his face anymore.

”i have no idea what you’re talking about,” he huffs, with a voice you’ve never heard him speak through.

when you look a little closer — you think the tips of his ears may be just slightly red. it makes your lips curl up into a small smile, but you barely feel it.

(like this, he’s actually kind of cute.)

cherry blossoms flutter in the wind, dancing joyously, without a care in the world. a spring breeze ruffles gojo’s hair, as he sits beside you, having begun to blow his bubbles again. not saying a word, and looking straight ahead. but you can’t help but stare, as sneakily as you can muster.

you find yourself thinking that he looks right at home, among the petals. fleeting, hard to get a grasp on. so pretty, and so out of reach, despite being so close. 

if you wanted to, you could reach over and touch him. you could reach for his sunglasses, lift them off his face, and finally see those eyes he’s so intent on hiding. you could see him, see straight into his soul — and find out who he really is.

you won’t, though. some boundaries aren’t meant to be so callously crossed.

instead, you puncture the pink carton in your hand with the plastic straw, and take a tentative sip. the sweet taste soothes you, straight away, blooming on your tongue. you can’t help but sigh, softly, relaxing even further — it’s absolutely perfect, for this kind of weather. the sight before you, cherry petals and shining bubbles, a boy you don’t like, but definitely don’t hate. 

you both look up, following the bubbles with your eyes, as they float up into the sky; as they get smaller and smaller, farther and farther out of reach. neither of you say a word, but the silence is comforting. light. 

gojo is the first one to break it — in a voice so small you barely hear it.

”… you don’t look like a zombie.”

a second passes. you’re left blinking in confusion, trying to decipher the sudden statement. you can’t get a good read on his expression, with those eyes of his conveniently hidden; he must have regained his composure, then.

it takes a couple seconds for his words to sink in — but once they do, all pieces seem to fall into place. 

and you burst into laughter.

gojo blinks at you, caught off guard, his eyelashes flapping like a little dove scrambling to get off the ground — staring at you like you just grew a second head. that makes you laugh harder, a bout of giggles spilling past your lips — you just can’t help it. 

”did —” you wheeze, softly, thoroughly amused. trying and failing to bite back the laughter. ”did you think i was bothered by that, or something?”

gojo looks at you. a little stunned, for a moment. the sight only makes your smile bloom further, eyes crinkled as you meet his gaze. from the angle you’re viewing him through, leaning back against the bench, you catch a glimmer of his eyes. they’re awfully pretty — blue and bright, full of life. when you look closer, you can see tiny, tiny splotches of white. 

they look like the blue sky. 

you called them menacing, before, but now you aren’t so sure. they seem soft, in the sunlight, especially when seen like this — right after catching him off guard. it’s a rare moment, terribly precious. something to savour.

gojo doesn’t let it linger, though. 

after a moment of two, he scoffs — turning away yet again. a soft, soft pout on his lips.

”obviously not,” he huffs, sounding nothing but irritated, resting his jaw on the heel of his palm. ”but with how sensitive you are, i wouldn’t be surprised.”

usually, a comment like that would irk you. now it just makes you giggle, lightheartedly — the tips of his ears turning redder at the sound. 

(he really isn’t so bad, after all.)

for a while, you don’t say anything else. afraid of ruining the tender atmosphere. you feel closer to gojo than ever before — and you wonder if maybe this is the gojo that geto sees. childish, but well meaning. arrogant and cocky, but oddly innocent. selfish — but not really. you’re starting to think that you may have been slightly off, with that one.

the strawberry milk on your tongue tastes sweet. a little sweeter than usual, though you choose not to dwell on it.

”hey,” you break the silence, surprising even yourself. the words fall from your lips like soft little breaths, rolling off your tongue like marbles pouring out of a glass bottle. ”i don’t dislike you, you know?”

it’s an impulsive admission. saying it out loud doesn’t feel wrong, though. maybe a little humiliating, sure, but not wrong. not dishonest.

you suspect that gojo may be looking at you, out of the corner of his eye, but you aren’t sure. after all, you’re vehemently avoiding his gaze — a little embarrassed by your own sincerity. 

he doesn’t know how to respond. you’re being strangely unpredictable, today, and it makes him feel unsure of himself. your tone is soft, almost friendly. he only ever hears it when you’re talking to shoko or geto.

not learning his lesson, gojo opts to tease you again. as always. afraid to let the silence linger for too long. it’s a halfhearted attempt, though, more of a vaguely amused huff than anything. 

”what, got a crush on me or somethin’?”

this time, you don’t scoff, or roll your eyes, or give him an earnest fuck right off. you only chuckle, in a way that almost borders on fond. you’re not one to tease, contrary to the boy on your left, but your words are teasing even still. ”i have better taste than that.” 

gojo should be irked, should grumble and bite back, but you don’t give him the chance to. 

”i just… you know,” you taste the words on your tongue. ”i still think you’re annoying. and childish.” gojo huffs, and your lips curl up. ”but i really don’t dislike you.”

you take a sip of the strawberry milk, before continuing, hoping it’ll make the words easier to say. ”… and it’s not like i know you, anyway. so i’m sorry for making a bunch of assumptions.” 

a pause. for a split second, you quiet down, a little flustered. gnawing on your bottom lip.

”… that’s all i wanted to say,” you exhale, gaze glued to your lap. feeling a heat on your nape.

as always, you can’t tell what gojo’s thinking. out of the corner of your eye, you try to catch a glimpse of his face, but you have a nagging suspicion that it wouldn’t tell you anything anyway. his eyes are hidden by those sunglasses, after all, acting as a wall between him and the rest of the world. so you don’t know if the words reach him, if they mean anything at all. 

but you hope they do. even as you brush cherry petals and non-existent dust off your lap, and get up to leave.

gojo just sits there, for a second, deep in contemplation. 

he tries to bury a certain thought, before it has a chance to reach his frontal cortex — before he has to accept that it exists. only this time, he doesn’t succeed. the words die before they reach his tongue, but he hears them, in his head. he hears them loud and clear.

and he flushes under the light of the sun.

(i don’t really dislike you, either.) 

what actually ends up leaving his throat is merely a scoff, so faint he doubts you even hear it. 

”whatever,” he mutters, hoping it’ll come across as cool and unbothered. it doesn’t.

one last smile reaches your face, before you head back inside. gojo stays behind, on the bench, lost in thought.

tossing the now-empty carton into a trash can, you try to calm yourself down. feeling oddly excited, as if you’ve reached something, the start of an eventual conclusion. something worth cherishing.

you still don’t understand satoru gojo. but you get the impression that you just grew a little bit closer to him. there are layers to him, more than what meets the eye, hidden behind those sunglasses of his. you can only imagine what the world might look like, from his perspective. what you look like, reflected in his eyes, a blur of colours and facial features, sparks and dots.

you wonder if the whole world looks like a painting, to him. 

you feel a little ashamed, for thinking you had him all figured out. a spoiled, self-centered rich kid, with no functional empathic abilities. it might be partially true, but you’ll have to reevaluate the statement. to see how well it holds up. you still don’t think his emotional intelligence is anything to gawk at, but you may have been underestimating it. it’s there, despite everything — in those eyes, in that single carton of strawberry milk.

you think there’s a certain maturity, there, in spite of his childishness. or perhaps the latter is no more than a product of the former, a way for damaged children to dress their wounds. the way he carries himself and the way he speaks both seem a bit forced. like he’s used to performing, used to moving in a way that demands attention. all eyes on him, at all times. 

you think that sounds just a little exhausting. 

even as you return to the safety of your dorm room, you still can’t help but wonder. there’s still so much you don’t know. despite the moment you shared, and the connection you think may be growing between you, he’s still so out of reach. almost lonely, in a way. you wonder what he looks like, when he’s alone, when there’s no one around to perform for. 

(what is an actor without their audience?)

and, despite everything, after all is said and done — you really, really don’t understand satoru gojo. not at all, not in the slightest. not one bit.

but you think you’d maybe like to.

[the-boy-meets-evil]

34.6037° S, 58.3816° W | teaser | jww

(your latest assignment has you jetting off to argentina hoping to finally catch the infamous art thief that's escaped your agency one too many times already. you know what's at stake if you lose your focus. enter the beautiful stranger that has you questioning everything you know.)

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader genre: strangers to lovers, (kinda) enemies to lovers | smut, fluff, angst rating: explicit, minors DNI (for the full fic) word count: ~1k for the teaser (~18k for the full fic) warnings (for the full fic, teaser has none): art thief!wonwoo, secret agent!reader, very brief mentions of death & bloody past (again, reader is a secret agent), mentions of past violence, mentions of weapons, food, drinking, ambiguous ending, smut warnings on the full fic

a/n: this fic is for the amazing world tour collab for @svthub. i'm excited that i got to be part of it! the full fic will be posted on june 28th. if you'd like to be tagged, leave a comment, send an ask, or fill out my permanent tag form here

taglist: @aaniag, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @gyuminusone, @naajaeminsgf, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @pyeonghongrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality

Reluctantly, you move to sit down with him. It’s kind of insane the way he’s thrown you off your game by just existing. Usually, you’re the one that’s disarming strangers with your charm, not the other way around. As soon as you sit down, he looks back at the book he has open in front of him. It gives you a chance to figure out if he’s actually that attractive that it’s thrown you off or if you’re still just jet-lagged. 

His glasses slide down a nearly too perfect nose and he pushes them up without missing a beat. His black hair is a little messy and a little long, falling carelessly around his face as he gets lost in whatever book he has open in front of him. His clothes make him look a little too fancy to be sitting in a cafe overrun with tourists like this. Somehow, he makes a cardigan over a dress shirt with nice, pressed slacks work without looking like he’s trying too hard. Everything about him just exudes calm, confident energy. Like the kind of person you would assume comes from old money. Unassuming, yet standing out without even meaning to. It reminds you of some of the landmarks you saw that morning, like rich history perfectly combined with modern needs. 

Thankfully, at least some of your training kicks back in and you manage to keep it from being too obvious that you’re one step away from fully checking him out. Your new tablemate seems content to sit in silence, though, so you pick at your food while going through some of the pictures on your camera. Today is about getting the lay of the land as much as anything else. It’s not like you can just find your infamous art thief without knowing where to look. 

“I’m sure you got some great shots,” he says, drawing your attention again. When you look up, his eyes are on your camera. 

“Oh, yeah, it’s so hard to really capture the feeling of something through a camera, but I definitely try,” you say.

“I saw you at The Obelisk and I thought, I’ve never seen someone so focused in my entire life,” he says, except now he’s looking at you.

“There must have been thousands of people there. How did you pick me out?” you ask with a laugh. 

The mystery man shrugs. “Like I said, you were focused. And not in the way a lot of influencers who travel for the perfect picture are. I knew that it was more than that for you.” 

“It is,” you agree. “I’m studying the history and the culture down here. Just got in last night.” 

“Can I see the picture you landed on?” he ventures. 

You hesitate. Your pictures are good, sure, but you’re not actually doing anything that serious when you’re down here. Since it’s supposed to be part of your cover, you should feel confident. After a moment, you hand your camera over to him with your favorite picture in the display window. 

“Be kind. My focus is language and history first, not photography,” you toss out. Another layer to the cover. 

“This is amazing,” he says and seems earnest. “Can I look through the rest?”

Again, you pretend to consider. This time it’s for the sake of the persona you’re committing to. It’s not like there’s anything on there from before today since it’s a fresh SD card. 

“I promise to be kind,” he presses and you roll your eyes.

“Fine,” you say and he smiles. 

It’s hard not to notice the amount of care he uses while handling your camera. Maybe he knows something about photography and realizes it’s an expensive model. Or maybe he’s just gentle with something that clearly means a lot to someone else. It’s also easier to feel like you can appreciate things about him when his attention is somewhere else. Like he won’t notice the way your eyes map his features, noting the furrow in his brows or how smooth his skin is. Or the way his hair seems absolutely perfect without any product in it. None of it seems fair that he should just get to walk around looking like that.

“I’m surprised not to find a picture of myself on here,” he starts and it pulls you from your thoughts. There’s a moment where you wonder if he’s secretly self-centered, until you meet his eyes and see the glint there. “You know, with how you’ve been studying me.” 

“I appreciate beauty wherever I see it,” you answer, trying to channel more boldness than you feel. 

“Are you saying I’m beautiful?” he questions, entirely too at-ease. 

“I don’t think you need confirmation on that,” you scoff and look out the window. “It wasn’t me that noticed you earlier.” 

“A shame for me,” he muses. “I appreciate beautiful things as well.”

He hands your camera back with his eyes locked on you. It makes your skin feel a little flushed and you hate it. Hate that you’re always able to keep your cool in any situation and still so completely disarmed by this man. Hate that it’s him that breaks the moment, too, when he looks down at the expensive watch on his wrist with a sigh.

“Late for something?” you venture. 

“Something like that,” he agrees and puts his book away in a bag you hadn’t noticed. “I’m glad you sat down though.” 

“Me too,” you admit a little too quickly as he’s standing up.

“Enjoy your afternoon, beautiful stranger,” he says and you twist around.

“Wait, I didn’t get your name,” you call and he stops by the door. The smile he throws your way sends a tingle down your spine.

“I hope we’ll run into each other again, then,” he says.

i hope you enjoyed this little snippet!

[bruhnze]

BOXING LESSONS - Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Fluff with a bit of smut, inspired by these pics cause holy hell their arms uhggg, they are fs in boxing lessons together. (imagine watching that, pff id die on the spot).

Summary: Lucy gets a substitute coach for her boxing lessons, but now it's a women, Ona gets jealous.

Wordcount: a very long one sorry; about 3600

Warnings: 18 and up, minors dni, fictional story.

BOXING LESSONS - Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

/// 13:04 ///

Lucy and Ona came back from morning training to eat lunch at home. It was one o’clock and they had a rare free afternoon. Usually they wouldn’t be done until three, four or even five in the afternoon.

While eating lunch they discussed their activities. Lucy had her boxing lesson, what she tried to do atleast once a week and Ona wanted to go to the beach with Coco and Narla.

‘’So you have a substitute teacher today?’’ Ona asked.

‘’Yep, got an email from Mateo, him and his wife are dealing with some personal difficulty’s and that’s why someone else will come today, and he said if i like them, i could continue my year with them otherwise it’ll still be Mateo but then we’ll have to make effort with the scheduling’’.  Lucy stated.

‘’Well maybe the sub is better than Mateo, cause you said you needed more challenge, no?’’ Ona said.

‘’Yeah’’ Lucy sighed ‘’i didn’t have the heart to tell him, he seemed so distracted lately, so maybe it is for the better, i’m curious about the replacement tho, hope their good’’.

Ona laughed, ‘’i cant wait to hear your stories when we’re back’’

/// 13:48 ///

While Ona got the dogs leashed up and gathered some stuff to take to the beach, Lucy cleared the table and cleaned the kitchen. She tried to keep up with chores now that Ona practically lived with her, when she lived on her own ,she sometimes left the dishes for a day until she got to them.

But Ona liked the kitchen to be clean and Lucy knew that a happy wife, meant a happy life and it helped that she seemed to earn points with Ona everytime she did something around the house.

After the kitchen was spotless she walked to the bedroom, Ona was changing into a bikini. Lucy stripped aswell, but only to change into her gym clothing.

They looked at eachother while getting dressed ‘’it’s a shame we have to go’’ Lucy swooned while closing the gap between her and Ona, now both fully clothed again.

‘’ I can reschedule my appointment with the beach’’ Ona kissed Lucy briefly ‘’but it is probably better that you’re not late with your potential new coach’’.

Lucy kissed her back and sighed ‘’Yeah probably’’.

They gathered their stuff and walked to their cars. Lucy carried the bags while Ona held the leashes with the dogs.

Lucy helped her girlfriend settle everything in her car and gave her one more kiss ‘’see you in few, don’t forget to relax and maybe take some cute pictures of our little ones’’.

Ona smiled ‘’ I will, good luck with your lesson, don’t act too tough, watch your knee and also have fun’’

‘’Thanks mom’’ Lucy laughed causing Ona to push her away. ‘’Sorry that i care about you, stupid, no go before you will be late’’ with that Ona closed her car door.

Lucy waved and then sprinted to her own car, chugging her sports bag on the passenger seat. She connected her phone to the car to put some music on and drove off.

/// 17:04 ///

Ona had been tanning for a few hours almost ready to go back home again, the dogs were still playing with eachother in the sand, until she rembered Lucy asking for some photos.

She put her clothes back on and snapped some pics of the dogs from different angles. When she thought she got some decent ones she packed her stuff and leashed the dogs.

In the car the dogs layed passed out on the backseat, completely worn out by their beach adventure. Ona got behind the wheel and took a selfie of her with the dogs in the background.

She went through her photos and selected one of Narla, one of Coco, one of them together and the picture she just took to send to Lucy.

@Ona: *shared 4 pictures*

@Ona: we had a great time🏖️🏖️

@Ona: we''ll be home in 25

/// 17:58 ///

After Lucy stepped out of her second shower that day, she had put on a black tanktop and grey sweats and got her phone from her bag. Her and Valentina, as the substitute turned out to be called, had lost track of time a bit.

Her phone was full of incoming messages like usual and as usual one name stood out, Ona, she had sent something a while ago. Lucy opened the message and saw the photos, she read that Ona would be home in 25 minutes, she checked the time and realised how late it actually was.

She texted back.

@LucyB: hi bb, cute pics, they look exausthed

@LucyB: did you have them do laps up and down the dunes😂

@LucyB: anyway i’ll be home soon x, just showerd, sry we lost track of time.

Ona answered right away.

@Ona:nw, im making dinner, i think it will be done when you are here

@Ona: so new coach is good?

@LucyB: yeah she’s great, ill tell u bout her when im back

@Ona: drive safely , see u soon

Lucy was tempted to reply -yes mom- but instead she went for a simple heart emoji.

/// 18:43 ///

Lucy stepped in to their apartment and she immediately put her sports bag in the hall closet and threw her dirty sportswear in the laundry basket. Then she walked to the kitchen. ‘’Hola’’

‘’Hi’’ Ona smiled up, she was on her phone standing next to the oven  ‘’a few more minutes until its done’’.

Lucy stepped into her girlfriends space ‘’I have experienced better greetings, I don't even get a kiss?’’ Lucy pouted.

Ona looked up now and had to laugh ‘’ofcourse you get a kiss, sorry i was just watching something a-

Ona became silent and blushed, her eyes landing on lucy's upper body, specifically her arms.

She put her phone on the counter and held out her hands and took a bicep in each.

‘’Meu forta guapa’’ she grinned appreciatively.

Lucy looked at her confused but smiley, her spanish was okay but her Catalan not yet ‘’what? guapa i know but forta?’’

‘’I called u fit, forta is like strong’’ Ona said while tracing her hands over Lucy’s shoulders and biceps. ‘’I like this top, it looks nice on you.’’

Lucy grinned ‘’Fit hmm, soc de teva núvia forta y sexy?’’ (am i your strong sexy girlfriend) she tried in her broken Catalan.

Ona smiled, Lucy knew it got her weak in the knees when she talked, or atleast tried to talk in catalan, or spanish.

‘’Yeah’’ Ona said ‘’almost, its sóc la teva núvia forta i sexy?’’

‘’Yes you are, meu teva núvia forta i sexy’’ (my strong and sexy girlfriend) Lucy tried seductively.

Ona laughed ‘’Nice try but then its: la meva xicota forta i sexy’’.

Lucy groaned and looked up ‘’ugh i wish i would pick it up quicker, i want to be able to talk to you in your mother tongue’’

Ona held Lucy’s face ‘’I think you’re doing good, very good, you put in effort, and i mean, we have our whole lives to practice, right?’’

Lucy kissed her now, smiling into the kiss she talked as their lips were still connected ‘’are you asking to spent the rest of our lifes together?’’ then she pulled away and looked at Ona ‘’because, yes’’

Ona looked at her girlfriend with a wide smile on her face, ‘’no wasn’t a question, it was a promise, you will never get rid of me’’

‘’I dont want to, i’ll never will’’ Lucy cupped ona’s face and went in for another kiss, as the kiss became deeper and more heated, Ona pulled away suddenly.

‘’Lucy!’’ ona called out ‘’you distraced me, don’t you smell the oven?, quick!’’

They pulled out the tray with vegetables and chicken, it was a bit dark but they could stil eat it. They put everything on the table, including two bowls of rice and Lucy poured two drinks. Sparkling water with lemon and ice.

‘It looks good bub, thanks for making dinner’’ Lucy said as they took place at the table.

‘’no thanks, i'm happy to do it, would've been better if you hadn't distracted me, but okay, now tell me about your new teacher’’ Ona said as she started her meal ‘’If she is as bad as you at losing track of time in the gym i dont know if yous two are the best match’’ she laughed with her mouth full.

Lucy rolled her eyes and chewed until her mouth was empty before she spoke ‘’Valentina is her name, she was a professional, but because of injury she became a coach instead, the session was actually really refreshing, wayyy different from Mateo’s style. We first talked about my goal with boxing, she knew i’m a soccer player and then we talked about injurys for a bit and..,, yeah i don’t know actually, the time flew by, she got called actually, she had to go, so then i showered and saw your messages, but next week we planned a session together again.’’

Ona listened to Lucy, she was happy that Lucy had enjoyed herself but that the new coach was a women, that was something Ona was less happy with, she didn’t know why, but the way her girlfriend said -Valentina- got her feeling jealous.

‘’So how old is she’’

‘’huh? Who, Valentina?’’

There it was again, Ona felt it in her bones.

Lucy sighed ’’hmm, i don’t know actually, i guess about my age or something, maybe youger?’’ .. ‘’why’’ she said as she looked Ona straight in the eyes.

Recognising the fiery pupils that only came up when One was jealous.. wait.. was Ona jealous? Lucy thought by herself, why, how, she hadn't even seen Valentina.

‘’okay’’ Ona said poking at her food.

‘’Is someone a bit jealousss’’ Lucy laughed and stood up from the table standing behind Ona, she tickled her and kissed her neck ‘’You’re crazy Ona, my crazy little girlfriend’’ she kissed Ona’s cheek a few times and then flopped back in her chair.

She changed the subject by asking ‘’How was the beach’’  

/// 20:03 ///

‘’So you didn’t even swim huh?’’ Lucy asked

‘’nahhh’’ Ona laughed ‘’It’s nice out, but the sea is still wayy to cold’’

‘’did you know that Valentina swims in the seawater whole year round’’

‘’Does she now’’

‘’Yeah, i talked about my icebath, she said she wish she had space for an icebath but that her house is too small and thats why she just does morning plunges in the sea’’ Lucy said

‘’amazing’’ Ona couldn’t prevent the sarcastic tone it came out in.

Lucy laughed ‘’you don’t even know her, how are you already spiting the women’’

‘’well she seems to have made quite an impression on you, you hardly met her yourself and here you are Valentina this Valentina that’’ Ona couldn’t help pronouncing the name angry, she almost spat it out.

Lucy looked amused at her sputtering girlfriend ‘’why don’t you come with me, next week, then you will find out that you are worrying about nothing’’

Those words sparked Ona’s interest, next to meeting this mystery coach, she also had an opportunity to watch Lucy box, something she was farley interested in. She agreed ‘’yes, that could be fun’’

‘’Good’’ lucy said ‘’now, no more crazy talk’’

‘’Okay, but no more saying other people's names when!’’ One said sternly

Aha, Lucy thought, that was what had bothered Ona, she smirked, ‘’but i like saying Ona’’ she cheekily said, knowing full wel that was not what she meant.

‘’Other people!’’ Ona kicked Lucy under the table, ‘’im not other, im yours’’

‘’Hmm, damn right you are, come here’’, lucy said as she patted her lap.

//// The next week //// 19:16 ////

This session was at night, in the context of the other things they had that week Lucy had planned it that way deliberately. Lucy had sent a message to Valentina asking if it was okay if Ona came along for their session, to which the coach had reacted enthusiastically.

They stepped foot in the gym that Lucy was now a regular at since 2022, in the car Lucy had talked Ona through some of the basics but she had said that she was sure Ona would be a natural.

''Hello guys!'' a low voice called out.

''Hey Valentina'' Lucy said.

Ona stopped in her tracks as she faced the women, she had a completely different picture in her head than the woman with the high bun and undercut who stood in front of her. The woman had two tatted sleeves and she was wearing a muscle tee.

Lucy laughed not understanding why Ona had frozen up, she put a hand on her girlfriends shoulder and said: ''This is Ona, it's actually her first time boxing''. thinking perhaps Ona maybe went shy because she only now realized that she knew nothing about boxing.

Valentina walked over to the pair and put out her hand to shake Ona's ''Hi, im Valentina, you can call me Vale btw, and dont worry i love teaching rookies''

Ona put on a smile ''Good, I can't wait to learn''.

Ona laughed out loud on the inside, oh how she had misjudged this!

As they were warming up Vale was mostly giving attention to Ona, Lucy hadn't thought anything off it, after all, Ona was the beginner. Ona thought it was strange, she could do a warm-up.

Ona started to wonder if Vale was flirting with her when she felt her hand on her lower back for the umpteenth time this warming up and Vale kept coming close to explain things.

She tried to eye Lucy, who was completely caught up in her lunges.

''So are you a soccer player too?'' Vale asked.

''Yeah'' Ona anwsered ''Im with Barca, like Lucy, we're on the same team''.

''Ah so that's how you know her?''

''No, she, well it's a long story but Lucy is my girlfriend also'' Ona laughed akwardly ''It's kinda private though, that's why not everyone knows, but with the fans it's better that way''.

''Ah, thats a shame'' Vale smirked

''What'' Ona frowned, finding the smirk weirdly out of place.

''That the fans can be invasive'' ..''and that you have a girlfriend'' she quietly added, but loud enough for Ona to hear.

Ona knew she had not imagined it and was now stopping completely with the exercise she was doing..

Lucy walked over to them ''ah are you guys also done warming up, now we can start with the fun part'' she said while punching the air.

Ona and Vale laughed, Ona hoped Vale would get the hint and stop with her stupid behavior and they could just box.

While Lucy helped Vale get some gloves and wraps and two hand targets from the storage closet, Vale suggested Lucy and her could give Ona a demonstration of boxing first, a little sparring session, before teaching her.

Lucy agreed, as she liked the idea of Ona watching her and last week she and Vale had also finished with a friendly boxing match, which went quite well as Vale adapted to her pace.

Lucy showed Ona how to put on the wraps and gloves, while Vale helped her a bit. After that Valentine also put her gloves on and she explained the idea.

When they had been dancing around each other for a while and Lucy had done some blocking and hitting and Vale had dodged it and attacked back, going back and forth, things started to get a bit more intense.

Lucy was sweating and had a hard time keeping up with Valentina, she couldn’t help but think Vale was trying to show off. But if you knew Lucy at all, you knew she wasn't going to give up.

Ona had watched it all from the sidelines and couldn’t help but admire her girlfriend working hard in the ring, it was maybe even hotter than watching her play soccer.

A few minutes later, when she was forced into the corner and dived to avoid a blow, she thought it was enough and spoke up. ‘’Right, well I think we have showed Ona what boxing is like’’.

She looked at Ona and smiled, noticing concern on her face but also admiration.

Vale smiled ‘’yup, that was good, well done Luce’’, and held up her fist with the glove around it for Lucy to bump, Lucy looked back and gave in to fist bump her, even though she thought it was weird how Vale was behaving.

‘’Okay lets head over to the bags, and practice some punches’’ Vale said as she stepped out of the ring. She got her gloves of and took the hand targets in one hand and she put an arm around Ona to guide her to the punching bags.

Now Lucy was irritated, did Vale think Ona was just a friend of her or something, she should’ve clarified it when texting about bringing Ona. She quickened her pace to join the other two.

Valentina said to Lucy that she could start with Jabs on the brown bag and then do a drill of crosses and hooks.

Lucy sighed ‘’I think I still need to recover a bit from our session just now, I will do the drills in a second, maybe I can watch how my girlfriend does for a bit’’. She stared at Vale with those last words.

‘’Okay’’ Vale said without reacting ‘’Lets start with some easy drills for you’’.

//// 20:32 ////

Lucy was watching Valentina’s every move, it seemed as if she had completely ignored Lucy's comment and Lucy didn’t like it one bit.

Vale walked away for a second to grab some more attributes and Lucy got close to Ona, ‘’Hey, are you okay?’’

Ona smiled ‘’yeah the boxing is nice, I really like watching you box as well’’

‘’Do you think Valeria is acting strange?’’ Lucy questioned

Ona looked straight into Lucy’s eyes, ‘’Yeah do you notice it too? it kinda feel like she is hitting on me, I even told her you are my girlfriend and you just said it again’’.

Now Lucy's blood was boiling, at first she had thought it was all in her head, that she was just jealous, but now that Ona said she didn't feel comfortable, she felt like she could beat up Valentina. ‘’Do you want to stop? Do you want to leave?’’

‘’I don’t know, I want to do this with you Lucy, I get why you like to do this sport and it’ll be nice to have a hobby together’’

‘’Yeah, we can continue to train together, I’ll just teach you for a few weeks, while I'll search for a new coach and when I find one we will be more on the same level, hmm?’’ Lucy came closer to Ona and whispered ‘’This coach kinda sucks, she’s wayyy to comfortable around my girlfriend’’.

Ona laughed ‘’and I was the one who was worrying last week’’

‘’yeah, but I told you then already that it was not like that, and this is your proof , she has good taste but she should know when to piss off’’

‘’Who should piss off?’’ Valentina asked when she came walking back with some rubber bands and other stuff.

‘’We -, we are’’ Lucy stated, ‘’we just got a call and sadly we have to go..’’

‘’But your phones are in the dressing room?’’ Vale asked suspiciously.

‘’Yup’’ Ona said ‘’It was nice training with you, but we really have to go’’

As they walked away Lucy grabbed Ona’s butt and looked back, seeing that Valentina had seen her do it she slipped her hand under her girlfriends shirt and kissed Ona's cheek and head.

In the dressing room they got their bag and Lucy wanted to get her stuff to take a shower, but Ona grabbed her wrist, ‘’No, we’re supposed to be in a hurry remember, let’s go home’’

‘’No I think she got the part where it was just an excuse’’ Lucy grinned and cupped Ona’s face to kiss her.

‘’I want to go home Luce’’ Ona said softly ‘’let me show you how much I love being yours’’

Lucy gulped ‘’damn, lets go then’’

//// 21:41 ////

Ona quickly opened the door, Lucy following behind her with their gym bag. In the hallway Ona pushed her girlfriend against the wall, ''I liked how you showed her I’m yours when we were walking away'' she said while she kissed her neck, already breathing heavy.

Lucy laughed as she looked up ‘’hm, yeah, well I hated watching her be so up in your space and I will not be working with her again’’

‘’thats a shame because it was kinda hot when you two were sparring in the boxing ring’’ Ona said against Lucy’s ear. ´´Your so muscular´´ she said as she felt Lucy's shoulders and arms.

Lucy lifted Ona up, holding her up with her hands just below Ona´s ass. She always got very horny when Ona adopted such a worshiping position.

Ona straddled her legs around Lucy´s waist and as they were kissing Lucy walked them to the bedroom, when they bumped into the doorframe, Lucy broke their kiss ´´Oh sorry baby, didn´t -

Ona didn't let her finish, ''Sshh, I didn't feel it , you know im a bit of a masochists anyways '' Ona smiled cheekily.

Lucy gulped, she knew Ona liked it rough but it was always special to hear again that Ona really thought it was such a turn on, Lucy herself was more of someone who got off on being praised, maybe that's why their dynamic worked so well.

She threw Ona roughly onto the bed and told her to undress. Ona immediately obeyed and undressed clumsily ‘’wow so well behaved’’ Lucy smirked. ‘’Don’t even have to direct you further, immediate follow-up, let's keep that up, right bub? Are you gonna listen to me really good?’’

‘’Yeah’’ Ona said, voice raspy from being so turned on.

..

(sorry for edging, but i don't know how to continue so that was it😘)

unless maybe someone has some ideas and sends them my way

[mygnolia]

mama, i’m in love with a criminal | p sunghoon

sunghoon x gn!reader | wc: 1k | cw: violence, gunshots, suffocation, not describe fully but mentioned ok sunghoon lowk is stalkerish, definitely involved in crime

a/n: bitch (lovingly) WE ALL KNEW THIS WAS COMING i am consumed wjth criminal vampire sunghoon thoughts…the gun props…HELLLLOOOOO??? also not proofread whatsoever i wrote this in 25 mins its 5am don't mind me

you hear glass breaking and the roar of fire, and there’s so little time until you feel a hand drag you out from your bed. you’re barely awake, only half-processing just what is going on within your apartment. it’s so unusual to be woken up by violence, and when you finally blink, you register what’s going on. sunghoon grips your hand as he shoots with the other, dragging you through the smooth floor and doing your best to avoid the glass in your stupor. you scream, hearing a shelf on the wall crash down, and it sends you into frenzy, holding your boyfriend’s hand tight and following him out. you don’t know why, or how, or who, but you can’t sit there to think- all you can do is trust that sunghoon knows how to use the gun in his hand, and that you’re not here to die anytime soon. smoke is in every breath you take, and you blindly trace the steps of the man in front of you with your own two feet. he turns around, holding you tight behind a wall, before peaking out and firing. you don’t know how, eyes shut to even witness anything- but you hear a pained yell, and can only assume your boyfriend doesn’t miss. 

the hysterics begin to settle in, the panic in every breath making you heave uncontrollably. it catches sunghoon’s attention, and your boyfriend’s back slides against the wall until you’ve both sat down. his hands don’t leave you, rubbing comfort into your back the best that you can. your from is cradled against his, and you don’t know how to stop the fear from escaping you in the form of sobs. despite the sirens, bullets, and crashing furniture, sunghoon presses a kiss onto your forehead, whispering that everything will be okay. “I’m here for you, love.” and his word feels like law. 

eyes still shut, you don’t register his absence until you open them back up to realize there’s suddenly no one’s hands on your shoulders to calm you down. wherever sunghoon is, you can’t be mad that he’s gone, only able to pray through tear stained cheeks that he hasn’t abandoned you. while the uneven breathing hasn’t gotten much better, you wipe off the residue from earlier, looking around slowly for anything. you don’t know how to shoot a gun, but if he comes back, then he can. 

all of a sudden, someone puts something over your head, and your throat faces a horrible constrictive feeling. you pull at the fabric, embarrassed to have not been able to hear footsteps so close to you. your fingers pry at the fabric, begging for the material to rip, but it proves useless. your vision goes blurry, and your grip loosens. 

there’s no one you can contact when you wake up. it’s night, somehow, with the clock on the wall reading 12am. could it be a motel, with someone else here? is sunghoon finally back?

thorough investigation of the foreign spaces leaves you alone, and for that, you’re certain. nothing makes sense, and you have to blink a few times in the bathroom to process your physical state. you’re not even sure if you should shower, treat your wounds, or go outside. is there food in the fridge? 

there’s so much to worry about and not enough answers, but last night left you in such a daze that you can’t even cry. when you return to the nightstand to turn on a light, you notice something crumpled near the lightbulb. paper. a note. 

“i’m sorry you found out about me like this, angel. i’ll be out tomorrow to get you, 3am 7/12, but i can’t want for long. not sure what could happen to you if im not there, but come with me- i promise i’ll protect you with my life- only if you say yes <3” 

sunghoon knows you’ve never been tainted with crime- he knows just how deep the risk runs of keeping you with him. he knows, horribly so, that your life, and your future could be changed in an instant. and he lies when he tells you that he doesn’t know what will happen without him there- park sunghoon is not stupid when it comes to protecting you, how matter the distance. he knows how to keep tabs on you- how to track your movements and do background checks on everyone. and he does it so you’re safe- so the both of you can sleep at night without worry. 

but you don’t know that. 

you stare at the soot ridden note, tears of confusion and anger at your boyfriend for changing your life around suddenly overwhelming you. it’s all too much- so much different than how things were before. sunghoon no longer can play piano for you, or take pictures on his camera, or sing when he holds you at night- he can no longer keep you safe and protected the way he once did. you hate him for ruining your future, you hate him for showing such dark and twisted lies to be his sweet self around you. you hate that you never knew- that you could’ve helped him somehow by knowing. 

maybe you’re stupid, just as crazed in a way that he is. maybe, when you see the all too familiar white car pull up, not even questioning how he knows where you’ve moved to in the time being, you know that it’s him still, and leave without a trace. 

park sunghoon is a criminal, one that you’re madly in love with. 

--

raise ur hand if enhypen gotchu in a chokehold after that trailer.

[loupy-mongoose]

Well....

I seem to have found my new fixation.

But it's not Pokemon.

It's something else entirely.

Back in 2022, I had a similar bout of art/writer's block. I found a random plot generator and started getting stuff...

I eventually ended up with this;

I was hooked.

(That's old art from '22 btw)

First off, I have to say that while the story itself covers very heavy and dark topics, this post here doesn't have anything like that. So here you're safe, and I will of course apply all the necessary warnings and tags going forward! ^^

I fixated hard on that story, writing up a loose outline of basically all of it. And thankfully, I wrote most of my best ideas down, because, as tends to happen, the fixation faded after a while.

I came so close to starting it on DA back then--A prologue comic ready and everything. But I fell just shy of the courage I needed to actually publish it.

Well, now I've fallen in love with it all over again... with a new life.

I've taken the wolves' story, and merged them. :>

The characters are gonna be my plush wolf fellows/werewolves. This does mean their wolfiness will probably fall second banana to everything else going on, but... I want it to be, darn it. I'm having way too much fun with the idea! XD

Anyway, I have concept arts!

Here we have Timber (gray haired man), one of the wolves I mentioned here and the druid in this story, and Eirwen (white wolf/young girl), who is the Necromancer. :>

And the staff... One of my personal favorite new additions...

It's a creature called a Staffwyrm.

Instead of magical staves, mages in this world get magical creatures. :3

Staffwyrms are a breed of dragon specially bred to assist mages in channeling their magic. A mage acquires an egg and incubates it; meanwhile, the hatchling reads the magical signature of its soon-to-be master, morphing to appear like a branch from a symbolically relevant tree. However that symbolism applies is up to the powers that be. :)

Staffwyrms are highly attuned to the wishes of their master, and can instinctively stiffen to meet their needs. A hook to climb or grab something? Of course! A sturdy step to reach something or see higher? Might take some figuring out, but they got you! A backscratcher? Sure, why not!

A loyal pet and companion? Absolutely. <3

@puzzled-zebra commented that it had a boop button, so I had to. X3

Anyway, I've been having a lot of fun cooking up this story again. As sad as I am to apparently be taking a true break from Pokemon stuff, I'm very proud of this story and happy to have something to muse about. ^^

[aauroraxia]

𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐨 𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐨

𝐀. 𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐬

*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆ synopsis: While undercover at a club, a man starts flirting with Y/N, unaware that she was dating Armando and he was listening to every word that was being said | warnings: none, suggestive themes at the end of the story | pairings: Armando x black reader | Authors Note: This is kind of like what happened in Bad Boys For life. Based off the results from my recent poll, im supposed to be writing a smut story, so that will be part 2 of this story 😉, enjoy!

❣️ Recommended Song: Agora Hills - Doja Cat

-

𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒 popped, music blasted, loud cheers. This mission was definitely interesting.

You and the rest of A.M.M.O squad and a couple others were assigned a mission. Go undercover and arrest Jackson Moore, a sneaky drug lord who could only be found in one place:

𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛

You were tasked with getting close to Moore. You had to dress differently, so Moore would think you were attractive. (The third picture in the beginning is what you’re wearing.)

Getting close to a criminal didn’t really bother you, it’s your job, but it damn sure did bother your boyfriend Armando who was also undercover at the club.

He didn’t want you close to any man that wasn’t him, especially not someone dangerous.

He understood it was your job so he was trying to act fine.

After spotting Moore, you walked over to him slowly, swaying your hips seductively. Once you caught his attention he watched you walk over with a wide smirk on his face.

You had in this earpiece so that everyone else undercover with you, including Armando, could hear everything Moore was saying.

“Dayumm, wassup mama“ Jackson said once you reached him.

“Hey!” You said sitting down beside him, placing one hand on his shoulder.

Just hearing you talk to Jackson made Armando’s blood boil. It was agony for him.

Part of him wanted to walk over to you two and stick a gun in Jackson’s mouth, making him regret the 3 words he’d just said, but he knew you had to finish the mission, so he pushed down his urge.

You continued to make small talk with Jackson. One of his arms were wrapped around your shoulder and his other hand was resting on your thigh. He let his guard down. It was time to strike. Things were getting a little too cozy until Marcus and Mike and a few others came walking around Jackson with Sparklers.

“You’re going jail.” Marcus sung in a funny voice, dancing.

“Yeah you going to jail.” Mike added on dancing as well.

Moore looked at them then back at you who was no longer sitting beside him but instead standing in front him holding a gun in his face.

“Miami PD, you’re under arrest!” You shouted. People were rushing out of the club, shocked cops were there.

Thankfully, Moore didn’t try to run, instead he cooperated. As Mike put him in handcuffs and walked him out of the club he look back at you and smirked, making your face heat up.

His smile faded as he walked away, now he had a scared look in his face. You whipped your head around, seeing your now angry boyfriend staring back.

He leaned down, brushing you curls away from you ear, whispering “Espero que hayas disfrutado coqueteando con él, ahora vuelves a casa.”

Armando turned around and walked out the door. You bent down your head, following him out of the door, already knowing what was gonna happen next.

“Dios ayúdame” you whispered running to catch up with your angry boyfriend.

*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆ | Translations:

Chico Celoso - Jealous Boy

Espero que hayas disfrutado coqueteando con él, ahora vuelves a casa - I hope you enjoyed flirting with him, because now you’re coming home

Dios ayúdame - God help me

[daisys-reality]

─── 🍏ꜞ˖ ꒰ short messages from your DR s/o's higher self ꒱

⌇reality shifting themed tarot reading | general disclaimer | masterlist

───────────────────────

pile one

Oh temptation, sweet temptation. Darling, you're gorgeous, inside out. How can someone be so perfect? I really wanna be gentle with you and treat you with the utmost care that you deserve. Not because you’re weak. chuckle No, because you’re so so precious to me. But damnit, my feelings and the attraction I feel are so intense. I feel like I'm going insane. I need you in my life. I would do anything for you. For hell’s sake, I would travel the universe for you too. Please don’t ever doubt me. I am trustworthy, I promise. You’re the only one who has my attention. I will protect and provide for you. And whoever dares to hurt you, will get to experience hell.

Don’t worry about your past or your circumstances, they don’t matter. Just believe, in yourself, in me or us or the universe. Focus on yourself for now, take time to recover from whatever you’re going through and release any resistance. I know it’s hard but it’s not too late. We will reunite soon! You don’t need to worry, okay? Everything will be fine.

pile two

My love, if you feel like you have too much that is depending on you, you might have to rethink following this path. It seems like your heart is willing to relax at this time, but this is not what your mind wants. You’re restless and exhausted… You know that your health is what is most important, right? I don’t wanna see you burnt out, okay? Learn to back out, when it’s needed. Continuing to fight for something that is not worthy of your life might end up being just a waste of time. You’re like a gift to me, okay? Obviously I am restless too and eager to finally be in your presence but your wellbeing is more important than any of my immature desires. I can wait for you. My love for you won’t waver. I will always love you, more than you know. Please give yourself the time you need. I will always be there for you. If you’re in the mood please tell me anything, you can even address letters to me. I would be glad if I could lessen your burdens at least for a little bit. You can talk about all your worries, your dreams etc. I will listen. So, let’s go through this together, okay? 

I want you to know that I’m truly proud of you, and I am confident that you will succeed.

pile three

I know you are my equal, my counterpart. There is no one like you. My heart and mind are committed to you. I know we’d make a strong pair. With you around I finally feel at peace, you make me whole again, you give strength to keep going. I want to be your strength too. I want to deepen our bond. I don’t wanna lose you. Ever. I am selfish and immature. I know that but what can I do? You're my other half, my world… I need you. Everyone else is not worthy enough for you. How could I sit still? I’m jealous just imagining you with someone else. Is it wrong to imagine our future together, a happily-ever-after? I promise I will work hard to make you as happy as you make me. Please give me/us a chance.

───────────────────────

[hxnbi]

HAYATO SUO knew something was wrong when he received that phone call. He reached for his cell phone and held it up to his ear, but no sound came from the other end.

“Hello? Hello? Y/n??”

“.....”

"Y/n I can't hear you, can you say that agai—"

His heart dipped, and he was left with nothing but the sounds of being drowned in his own panic.

Suo’s lips remained tightly shut when you said your first and only words to him that entire call before the line went dead and the call froze from the other end.

The voice that came from your end. Did he really hear that correctly...?

The sound of your voice—so lovely and melodious—disguised the hidden horror of what was truly going on behind the curtain.

“The ambulance— here!!”

"They're bleeding too much..."

“Start CPR ASAP!!”

Beads of cold sweat ran down Suo’s back.

‘No… that can’t be for you, right?’

The only words he could comprehend at that moment were the sirens of what he assumed to be an ambulance, and the dozens of bystanders, medical staff, and a man, screaming, yelling, and throwing a tantrum, being taken away from the other end of the phone.

Not even Suo's shaky hands could reach yours. The distance between you both was immeasurable.

That was the last and only time he picked up the phone from your number that day. And from the only time he did, when Suo clicked your ID and, in horror, saw the dozens of unanswered calls and several increasingly cryptic texts from hours ago, his heart sank.

He didn’t read or care about a damn one.

[Y/n]

Just left my house, I'll be there in 10!

Suo! When are you coming? I’m at the cafe!

Kotoha is wondering where you are too. Get here soon! Your food is getting cold

Hayato, it's been an hour, are you okay…?

I’m coming to Furin, I’ll be there in 30 minutes so don't move!

Hayato, are you nearby?

I feel like there's something behind me but I don't wanna look back

I found a space to take cover for a bit, so im okay for now

I see his hair peering from outside the cafe

Can you come soon? I'm getting a little worried

The cafe is closing so I'm heading back home. I'm a bit scared but I've got it aha

Hayato, please answer me

I'm

[ unread ]

That final message from you was sent two hours ago.

…He forgot about you. 

Him. Hayato Suo, had let you down. 

And because of that, you were at the hospital.

Suo had mere seconds to steel himself, holding in the tears that would inevitably taint his perfect face if he considered the worst-case scenarios, but they came along anyway, swirling around like parasites in his mind. And why wouldn't they? For all he knew, you might not make it through the night.

And that... that clenched at his heart.

Your unconscious self, with wires, tubes, and bandages dangling from your beaten-up body. The steady beep of the heart monitor crossed the silence, and an IV drip was attached to your arm, slowly delivering the necessary fluids and medications. Your face—pale and peaceful—contrasted with the harsh reality of your condition and his own reality. 

“How… How could this have happened?”

It was a bitter feeling. Because he knew. He knew what had happened, but because of his own involvement, he refused to admit it.

You, the only one he would ever love in his life, lying on a hospital bed, with visible injuries from head to toe.

No words could ever describe the hurt he felt when he saw your fragile form. You were suffering, and he couldn’t even do anything about it.

He inwardly scoffed, a fleeting expression of frustration crossing his face. Did he even have a right to worry about you…? When he was the reason you were here in the first place?

He couldn’t protect you, all because of him.

Hayato Suo, he had let you down. Time and time again, for it wasn’t the first. He put Furin, he put himself, and worst of all, he put everything else over you. 

He should've known when you said you were heading out alone that day with a sorry expression. You never did end up reaching Bofurin’s building, and he had failed to ensure your safety as a result of his own stupidity. 

He could barely stand to know the cause of your injuries, because, in his mind, every one of them was his fault.

Each wound, each bruise, was a direct consequence of his failures to protect you—and his carelessness and his failure to shield you from the visible marks he left behind. The burden of his failure to be there for you when you needed him most was an ever-present reminder of the crushing shame he felt.

People have always called him a smart cookie. Someone who could easily solve any problem with that sharp mind of his. But what use was that when he couldn’t even see through the facade you were wearing that day…? 

His hand found the way to where his heart was positioned. He scratched at his chest and pounded at his ribcage. He wanted to find his heart. Scratch his heart out so he could also feel the pain that he unknowingly inflicted on you.

But you knew he wasn't honest with you, and for that, he only had himself to blame. Suo always appeared calm, happy, and seemingly pleasant... Because if he showed you the turmoil and anxiety he had hidden within him, what would happen to you?

But in his pursuit to protect you, all he did was hurt you beyond repair.

Suo was a person who kept everything to himself, and from that, he unintentionally distanced himself from everyone who called him a ��friend.” And that included you as well. The times when he would listen to your ramblings and stories about your daily life, all while keeping his own behind closed doors.

Whether, in that equation, you held a higher standard didn’t matter anymore, because it wasn’t him that was in the hospital, fighting for their lives, but you. 

“I’m sorry…” you told him through the phone.

Those couldn’t be your final words to him… No, they can’t be. He refused to accept it. Not through the cold, mechanical sounds of a device, from your own mouth and voice. 

But perhaps he may never hear it again.

And he only had himself to blame.

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡

banner creds go to @faintrustle

when i was getting down to writing a request the other day, i was, for some reason, super angst inspired and drafted up an entirely new prompt just for the hell of it. also wanted to ty out a new format for this one, so lmk what you think :)

[coddda]

Light's relationship with his father is such a heartbreaking multi-faceted tragedy to me I hate it so so so much.

Soichiro loves his son so much, and while he's certainly not a perfect father I know that he cares deeply about Light. He wants to prove Light's innocence so badly but he can't let go of the underlying doubt that he might really be Kira and it gnaws at him. He does not know that from the very beginning he was being used by Light, whether it was to obtain information about the investigation, or to get to L, or to strengthen the foundations of his own lie that he wasn't Kira, this entire time he was simply another resource. He'll hang onto this doubt for years, even after L is dead, even if he doesn't express it in the latter half of the series, until he himself is on his deathbed, with what he believes to be undeniable proof that Light isn't Kira. (It's a lie, of course.) He dies happy, but it's on the foundations of blissful ignorance. His own son brought him here, brought him to the point where he had to sacrifice half of his own remaining life span, to his own death march, and was still trying to use him even now to kill someone else, but he doesn't know that. Soichiro said that what was evil was the power to kill others, and that whoever used it was cursed. Light was that cursed man, of course, and he tried to bring that curse onto Soichiro too by making him kill in his last moments. Soichiro was happy regardless, because he didn't know. He'll never know. (In the manga/anime at least. More on that later).

Light loves his father but it's not enough to turn him away from the terrible decisions he's made, if anything it only fuels them. His idea of "justice" is a twisted model of what he parroted from Soichiro, and he uses his father as another pawn (and a powerful one at that) in his plans. If he can prove that Kira is justice then perhaps his father will no longer call Kira, and therefore Light, evil, so he just needs to ensure that Kira becomes justice, right? It's Light's own actions that land his own father in the hospital for a stress-induced heart attack and yet he says only a few minutes later that he's the happiest he's ever been in his entire life. Even after Soichiro denounces Kira by calling him evil, even after he calls the Death Note's power evil, even after he unknowingly tells Light that he is cursed. When Soichiro dies Light is too deep in his own plans to actually properly process the fact that his own father is dying past what it means for his goals, but at the same time he still cares enough that after the fact he'll genuinely cry, only to brush it all away later. (Personally, I don't have a single doubt in my mind that Light's crying in that scene was genuine and I Will die on this hill). Soichiro had unknowingly denounced Light one last time just before his death, openly relieved that he "wasn't Kira after all", which also reveals that he has had doubts about Light this entire time, even after L died. By the time he's caught at the Yellow Box Warehouse Light will have denounced his father too, seeing him as someone who was made to be a fool, someone who was naive, even, too earnest for his own good. He won't realize that part of this description of his father might have applied to Light himself, back when this all started. Light takes after his father so much in so many ways already, so why not in this way too?

Ough. And honestly the other adaptations never miss out on this tragedy either, and I love them for that. (spoilers for the musical and 2006 live action movies I guess?)

In the musical we see Soichiro express his doubts and conflicts about who to believe, Light or L, if the son he raised really is a murderer, if everything he knows about him is just a lie. Like, there's an entire song about this, and you can tell how torn he is about it all, how badly he wants Light to be innocent but about how he also needs to face the truth no matter what it is, but at the end of it all he doesn't even get the answers he wants. At the end of the musical the only thing he finds is two corpses, Light's and L's, with no answers. No last words, no closure, only dead ends and a dead son and a grieving daughter. It's so awful I hate it here.

And the live action movie is fucking Insane. Like, wow. Okay. (Spoiler for the ending of Death Note The Last Name I guess) In the 2006 movies/novels Light writes Soichiro's name in the Death Note himself, and it's such an inconcievable move that it leaves even Misa shocked; Light tries to make Soichiro give him the Death Note for the last part of his plans, seeing his death as a "necessary sacrifice" (insert tangent essay about why I think 2006 live action movie Light is actually the most "coldhearted" Light Yagami, despite how infamous anime Light is). It doesn't work, and Soichiro does end up finding out that Light is Kira this time, and they have a confrontation, but he doesn't even sound truly hateful towards Light for it. He Never seems to outright hate Light for it, even after Light calls the whole confrontation a waste of time and instead tries to continue killing with the piece of the notebook in his watch, even after he tries to get Ryuk to kill everyone. When Ryuk inevitably writes Light's name and he collapses, Soichiro still reaches out for him and holds onto him as he's dying. Light literally dies in Soichiro's arms, still looking for the validation that he was right, that this wasn't all for nothing, that he was doing the good thing, trying to make Soichiro understand that he was trying to enact justice based on what he learned from him in the first place. Soichiro not only learns but sees for himself what his son has become, and Light dies in his arms leaving no closure for either of them. Soichiro will announce Light's death in L Change the WorLd on the news without saying his name, saying instead that it is only Kira who is dead, even though he and Light are one in the same. Sachiko and Sayu will never get to know the full truth about what happened to Light, instead Soichiro will lie and instead tell them: "Light was killed by Kira."

And then holy Shit the jdrama. If I write about it here this post is gonna literally double in length and also I don't really wanna spoil it but. Man. Man. If you watched it you know. Holy Shit dude I Cried.

It's the fact that, canonically, Soichiro will die oblivious to what Light has done, but even in the instances where he does find out, it doesn't make it any better, and it doesn't make him love Light any less, it just gives him more to grieve.

It's the fact that there isn't a single universe where Light doesn't use his father for his own gain, whether to gain information, or to try and control him with the Death Note, or make him write in the Death Note himself, and not a single time will he realize just how far he's strayed from Soichiro's ideals, and not a single time will he not forsake him for it by the end of the story.

It's the fact that, despite everything, Light will always refers to Soichiro as "dad/my dad" (informal) rather than "father/my father", even after he has been "denounced" (and this is true in every language that Death Note has been translated in, as far as I could find. Man, isn't that so cool! :) <- Through tears).

Anyways that's what I've been thinking of how's your guys' days going

[billwidoll]

From me to you

Like John Lennon

They were all at Topper's house, because there was a very busy and fun party going on and you were there. Beautiful as always, bright and smiling. And Rafe couldn't stop looking at you, he was Hypnotized

"Go talk to her man!" Topper says seeing Rafe looking at you

"I've tried, but she rejects me and despises me" Rafe says with a bitter smile on his face

"Why?" Topper asks.

"because for her, I'm a man who just wants to have sex and leaves the girls the next day" Rafe says with a frown on his face

"I'm sorry friend..." Topper says trying to comfort his friend

The party was busier and Rafe was drunker, all he could think about was you and your smile. He needed to talk to you as soon as possible

"Hi y/n, can we talk?" Rafe speaks, touching his shoulder and getting his attention.

"Okay... I'll be right back guys!" You say smiling to your friends and going with Rafe to a place

You went to the balcony, it was the quietest place in the house

"So? What do you want to talk to me about?" You say crossing your arms and furrowing your eyebrows

"I want to tell you about my feelings..." Rafe was nervous, his hands were sweating, his voice was shaky and he couldn't stop shaking

"Okay... you're definitely drunk" you say with a smile because you thought it was a joke

"No! I need to talk about how I feel about you. Whether I'm drunk or not!"

Rafe speaks decidedly and he approaches you making you two feel each other's breath

"I've got arms that long to hold you And keep you by my side I've got lips that long to kiss you And keep you satisfied" Rafe says all this to your face and you are shocked by his whole revolution

"Stop playing with me Rafe!" You say trying not to give in to Rafe like everyone else

"that's not a lie! I like you... you're beautiful, smart, sweet and cute" Rafe speaks as if he were crazy in love

That's what makes you laugh through that whole situation

"I love you...And that's it...I love you." You say with a huge smile on your face and go to Rafe and give him the sweetest kiss of your life

The kiss was beautiful. It was fascinating, there was adrenaline, Rafe was in your hands he was going to do everything not to lose you

"Wants to date me?"

[wonwoosthetic]

Can you recommend joel miller series?

Hii, of course!😊

I’m sure some of them have been recommended many many times before but that’s just bc they’re actually THAT good, so here are the ones that I’ve read multiple times by now ˙ᵕ˙

You want feels? You want emotions? You want drama and love? Overprotective hot Joel Miller?Read this:

i know who you are by @punkshort

What about a good slow-burn playing in Jackson where you just can’t help but want more from Joel than just a one night stand but it will take time? Here you go:

a stranger’s heart without a home by @morning-star-joy

As if these weren’t already enough emotional, get ready for this two-parter that will absolutely WRECK you in the best way possible😭 I never knew hurt/no comfort could ever be so beautiful:

“You’re the loss of my life” by @stylesispunk (warning: I cried ever time I’ve read this and it’s been about like five times 😭😭) also: another INCREDIBLE writer, you can honestly just read through her entire masterlist, you will NOT regret it!!!!!👏🏼🫶🏼

THIS is THE hurt/comfort series! I absolutely love the structure of this story so much, I’ve read it like four times already haha😬 Joel is just so irresistible that even after 20 years, this man has the audacity to captivate you again. Get ready for a wild ride of emotions with this:

Woman by @dancingtotuyo

But these aren’t enough? You want even more angst? You want to see Joel truly REGRET things? This one’s for you:

invisible string by @toomanystoriessolittletime

Okay, we’ve cried and screamed enough, time for something a little bit more gentle. Something that will pull you in and just not let you go? With just a bit of angst but the wonderful rom-com vibes that we all love? With the perfect neighbour!Joel storyline? This is the one:

Nicest Things by @schnarfer

Now what about a perfectly outlined AU with a fresh start and leaving the past behind only to find a hot Joel Miller as a sheriff?? If you’re interested:

somewhere to run by @punkshort (a second mention, so honestly, you can read absolutely everything she wrote, she’s an absolute genius and I’m in AWE of her talent)

Okay, now this one has become a Joel Miller classic but how dare I not mention it. It’s complicated, it’s unsure, but literally both are in love with each other and it’s perfect earning and UGH just incredible:

texas sun by @from-the-clouds

What about sneaking around with hot Jackson!Joel who cares all too much about Ellie but is also just so enthralled by you? Too jealous to let anyone else touch you but too much of an idiot to put a label on it? Here we go:

But I Would Die For You In Secret by @wheresarizona (I have to put a quick extra note right here: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read everything by her!!!! Learning to Live (Javier Peña x Reader) is literally one of my all time favourite series across all of the fandoms I’m in and September is also just INSANE, the writing talent this woman has is out of this world!!!!)

What do we want? THE SWEETEST JOEL? Where can we find him? RIGHT HERE! Get ready for just the most comfortable fic you’ll probably ever find and just UGH the cutest fucking Joel Miller:

Elks by @whocaresstillthelouvre

Loner Joel that makes you feel less lonely after you find your place in Jackson? Ooooh, that sounds good, right? Well, this story was perfectly written and you can read all about it here:

Yearling by @justagalwhowrites (edit: I realised way too late that this incredible writer also writes Lavender, which I read through on AO3 and I seriously couldn’t put my phone down and talked to my bestie who doesn’t even know about tlou and got her to read it!)

OKAY NOW LISTEN. This writer right here is one of my all time faves and I’ve read this series too many times to count and I just can’t get enough of it. SO, a perfectly written relationship with Joel Miller that gets you through the day of the Outbreak, all through those 20 years and even during your adventure with Ellie. This right here. You NEED to read this:

A Future Together by @kteague (note: if you want the best Frankie Morales fic ever, read Because Of You, istg the amount of times I’ve read it is insane and I still go back to it and re-read bc I just- it’s just- I can’t even put it into words)

I think we need some humour. We’ve had hurt, we’ve had comfort, romance, but what about a good collection of one shots that you can laugh to? Who would’ve thought going through a pregnancy can look this fun? Well, with someone like Joel Miller by your side, of course:

Joel Dealing with his Preggo Wife by @pedge-page

Most of the stories above have some smut in them (some more, some less), BUT, I know you guys. And I know myself. And I know that sometimes all you need is a good hoey story (Yes, I may have just made that word up). What do you do when you have a shitty boyfriend who lives with his hot fucking hunk of a single dad? Exactly, you fuck the dad:

boyfriend’s dad!joel by @joelscruff

Buuuuuuuut, what if you want to be live in a bit more delulu world where you can be a hot singer with a hot bodyguard that has to try to keep his hands off of you as hard as possibly can but just snaps? Warning: Hot hot HOT! Hehe, well, then I think you might enjoy this:

Her Bodyguard, His Shining Star by @mermaidgirl30

I also have to add: there’s one series where you match with Joel on Bumble (I think… maybe it was Tinder…) where Ellie and Sarah created a profile for him and I remember reading and absolutely LOVING it, but I can’t find it😭😭 so, if anyone else knows what I’m talking about, pls let me know! In the meantime, I’m keeping a placeholder for it here:

single dad!Joel Miller with daughters that just want what’s best for him by a fucking genius writer

I hope there’s something on here for everyone to enjoy! ˙ᵕ˙

If anyone has more recs that they think deserve a mention, please let me know or just mention them in the comments!!☺️ There’s so many amazing authors, I just went down my likes and saw what I had saved and what I remembered really enjoying, but I know there’s a lot more!!🫶🏼🤍