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mlm-writer · 11 months

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Tears of Lust (Dick Grayson x M!Reader)

Pairing: Dick Grayson aka Nightwing (YJ ver.) x Demon!Male!Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 3447 POV: Second Summary: If a demon is not majority of their time in hell, they get a rut once a year. You try to keep your human boyfriend out of your ‘weird’ demon things, but Dick has never wanted to be involved more. Note: Writing so many Young Justice fics and I don’t even remember the plot anymore. Should rewatch that some time. Sequel here. Tags: smut, ruts, heavy dacryphilia, we are entering monsterfucker territory, established relationship, super long tongue, anallingus, deep penetration, bit of magic, overstimulation, degradation, slight dumbification (?), maybe a bit humiliation???, breeding, throatfucking, pleasure dom reader, begging, anal fingering, anal fucking, and still sweet I promise, reader is so in looooove

Hell could go fuck itself. The cold of Earth was easy to deal with when you had three blankets wrapped around you. Usually it took that and a thick hoodie to keep you at your preferred temperature, but as your eyes stayed trained on the TV in front of you, sweat gathered on your back. You frowned and removed one of the blankets, only now noticing your leg had been bouncing this whole time. A sigh left you as you saw what time of the year it was again.

You had no time to think about the arrangements you needed to make. You could hear Dick fumble with his keys outside the door. From the way the keys jingled, you could tell he had his hands full of groceries again. You paused the TV with a snap of your fingers and strutted over to the door, blankets around you like a cloak. When you opened the door, you were greeted with the exact sight you were expecting.

Grocery bags hung from Dick’s wrists. You took them all with one hand, the other holding the blankets around you. “Are we hosting a dinner party? Why did you buy so much,” you questioned as you easily carried the bags inside and put them on the kitchen island. You pushed one of the plastic bags open to peer inside, seeing a lot of ice cream inside.

“Because this year, you are spending your rut here with me,” Dick replied in a matter-of-fact tone, like you had already agreed to do that, but you had forgotten. You froze. With a slow breath you turned around to see Dick leisurely taking his shoes off. The idea alone was enough to shorten the time for your rut to arrive.

“Since when do you know about that?” Your words were all carefully picked, spoken slowly with a weight hanging on each of them. When Dick approached you to give you his usual welcome kiss, you took a step back, not allowing him to change the subject.

Dick looked hurt, but his patience seemed to be endless with you. He did not try to get closer and instead walked over to the kitchen island to get started on putting the groceries away. “It is kind of hard not to notice that you have a ‘business trip’ every year around the same time. I did some digging in the Justice League database…” Dick paused, staring at the canned soup in his hand as if it offended him. “Why did you never tell me?” His eyes raised up to meet yours, the look of disappointment no longer directed at the chicken soup, but at you instead.

You swallowed and sat down at one of the barstools, unconsciously picking the one that put some distance between you and your partner. “The ruts just occur because I don’t spend the majority of my time in hell anymore. I know how much you value monogamy, so I just go back and tough it out,” you defended yourself, afraid Dick thought you were secretly fucking people on the side. Now holding a huge bottle of lube, Dick gave you the side eye. You understood immediately that you were not answering his question. “I was afraid you would think it too much. You’ve been dealing with so much. I was afraid another demon thing would be asking too much of you.” You held your head high, owning up to your shortcomings. The fact that Dick had bought all this stuff was enough proof that you had been wrong. “I’m sorry, I should have thought more highly of you.”

Dick sighed, putting down the cup noodles he had just retrieved from one of the plastic bags. “Apology accepted,” he muttered, before looking at you again. He then paused. “But wait, you’re not gonna tell me your rut is dangerous or something? No ‘oh I might lose control and I don’t wanna hurt you’ or something? You’re just going to let me?” You chuckled and shed the blankets, so you could more easily circle the kitchen island to wrap your arms around your lover’s waist.

Dick twisted his head to kiss you and you happily complied. After a short kiss, you started helping Dick with the shopping. “You’ll be fine. I’m centuries old now. I won’t be an unstoppable animal.

The apartment was made rut-proof by Dick and you did not have the heart to tell him that the Justice League database might contain some anti-demon propaganda, because some of the preparations were even beyond your comprehension. Dick had stored away all breakable items. Your cabinets were full of cereal for some reason. What was up with that?

You enjoyed the cold temperature Dick preferred for once as you lounged on the couch with Dick snuggled up beside you. You wanted him ten minutes ago, but he was so cosied up that you felt bad if you were to turn off the TV just to fuck him senseless. You thought you were doing well until Dick spoke up. “You’ve been hard since like five minutes into this episode. When are you carrying me to the bedroom?” He had said it so casually, like he wanted an actual answer like ‘oh around 10pm’ or ‘after this episode ends’. However, you knew better than that. This was your lover’s way of saying ‘take me now’.

You did not even bother turning the TV off. In a flash, you had Dick off the couch and in your arms. With a shadow dash you were in the bedroom in an instant. Dick bounced on the mattress as you threw him onto the bed. There was no room for words as your clothes ripped and you captured Dick’s lips mid-transformation. “Sorry,” you mumbled between filthy kisses, “I can’t maintain my human form during the rut.”

“I know,” Dick replied, hands grabbing at the muscles that tore through the fabrics. He helped rid you of the confines you found yourself in. He reached for your cock, but you grabbed his hand, gathering the other one as well to pin them both above his head. “Holy shit, this is so hot,” he said in a breathy chuckle, his face stretched in an excited smile.

You held his wrists above his head with a single, large hand, while you took his lips between your fangs. You gently toyed with them, before sliding your long, thick tongue into Dick’s mouth. He moaned like a pornstar. You could smell his arousal, his excitement and his precum leaking inside his underwear.

Normally you would play with him more, but not today. You had a hunger that had to be satiated, so you penetrated his throat with your tongue and with a snap of your fingers, got rid of Dick’s clothes. The textiles evaporated like water on the stove and you were pretty sure Dick had no idea you could even do that, but he was too busy deepthroating your tongue to care. You fed him your saliva, thinking he could use the aphrodisiac effects of it to get through the night. When you finally let his mouth go, Dick was gasping for air. He looked happy as he was panting on the bed.

You grabbed his ankles and flipped him over like a pancake. Dick was giggling like a school girl seeing her crush. He followed your lead, allowing you to put a pillow under his hips. Your huge hands could fit a round cheek in each of them as you pulled them apart, revealing Dick’s plugged little hole. “Why does it seem like you’re the one going through a rut?” You scolded him teasingly as you lightly tugged at the plug. You pulled a little bit out, just to push it back in. Dick was humming in reply, loving the nails that were leaving animalistic marks on his bum.

“I am promised a whole couple of days of endless fucking. How can I not be excited?” You gave his butt a light slap as a sort of reprimand, but Dick just seemed to enjoy it. Eventually, you had enough of just watching his hole stretch over the plug and you pulled it out roughly. Dick gasped, the sound dissolving into a cry as your tongue entered his slick hole. Your senses got filled by your lover. His scent was like gasoline on the fire that produced your hormones. His cries, as you swirled your tongue around inside him, were like an open tap above a clogged sink that was already full of lust. His taste… My god, his taste was like the first time you hit the high on drugs and everything feels so good and you feel like you could stay in the moment forever, never wanting to return to normal life.

Little by little, your tongue penetrated him deeper and deeper. Dick was humping the pillow underneath him and letting out small cries of pleasure. You did not know how long it took for Dick to take it all, but by the time you had all 20 inches of your tongue inside him, Dick was desperately humping the pillow and your face. “Feels so good, so good,” he kept muttering, body overtaken by pleasure. He seemed to be unable to think of anything else but his upcoming orgasm. You helped him fuck himself on your tongue, your claws leaving bruises on his ass. When you could feel him on the edge, you pulled him close and started violently wiggling your tongue inside him.

Dick groaned as your tongue milked him through his first orgasm. No amount of twitching and squirming could free him from your grasp. His cum had long stained the pillow, but you did not stop, pressing on all his sensitive spots repeatedly. “Please, baby! Mercy! Please!” None of those words have ever been your safeword, so you kept going.

Dick’s voice reached a crescendo as you kept stimulating him. He was near-screaming when you smelled it, the thing you needed most. You retracted your tongue and climbed over Dick. He fell on the bed like a puppet with its strings cut. You grabbed him by the hair and forced his head up. There they were, glistening on a line from his eyes down his cheeks. You licked the tears off his cheeks, before giving him an appreciative kiss on the lips. “Why?” Dick shuddered, eyes hooded and a quiver in his lips as he struggled with just a single syllable.

You grinned down at him and caressed his pretty face. “I’m disappointed you didn’t study better,” you mockingly cooed at him as you moved. You sat down against the headboard, gently lifting Dick to sit in your lap. “You just read you were gonna get fucked and your dumbwhore brain just turned off, didn’t it?” You whispered as you scooted him forward until his dick was flush against yours. He was fully flaccid, but you did not need him to be hard at all. Dick nodded with his mouth slightly open, arousal painted on his face. You morphed one of your clawed hands into a more human shape, something without any sharp edges. You did not harm Dick as you inserted a single, thick finger inside him. His breath got stuck in his throat and he fell forward against you. You held him cradled against your chest as you thrusted that single finger inside him. “I’ll try to explain in a way my dumb little slut will understand,” you whispered, adoring how he had his hands in fists resting against your chest. “If I spend a rut with a human, the only thing that will satisfy me are tears produced during sex,” you entered another finger, “now most demons would choose some barbaric way to get those, but me… I have you.” You curled your digits, finding Dick’s prostate with ease. Whether it was your hellish nature or due to how well you knew him, you were not sure, but you always found it right when you were looking for it.

Dick writhed against you as you rubbed his prostate relentlessly. “I’m going to make you feel so good, my love,” you promised, “I’m going to melt your brain with pleasure, so all that is left of you when I’m done is a pretty, mindless, little fuckslut.” Your dirty words hurled Dick towards his second orgasm. He was biting his lips until the very end, where a loud moan broke his silence. His limp cock poured his cum over your hard length, but even when that little bit of cum ran out, you held him in place with one hand, while violating his prostate with the other.

Dick wailed in pleasure, but you could tell he was on that border of where too much pleasure was indistinguishable from pain. He gripped your shoulders, blunt nails digging in you as he seemed to hold on for dear life. He raised his head, eyes big and pleading. “Please, please, please,” he cried out. It did not take long for his limp cock to twitch in another attempt at spilling cum over you, but it was too soon and Dick had nothing to give, except the big, juicy tears that started pouring from his eyes. You leaned down, lapping them up as you continued your assault. Dick’s whole body was shaking at your onslaught. “Stop, please!” Dick eventually screamed. That was not the safeword, but you understood he needed a break, so you pulled your fingers out of him, while licking the last of his tears off his face.

Dick leaned against you, still sobbing. You wrapped your arms around him, stroking his back gently. Everytime a tear escaped him, your tongue automatically darted out to lap it up. “Shh, you did well, rest a little,” you cooed. You waited patiently as his breathing slowed, until Dick eventually let his hand wander down to take a good grasp of you. He stroked your cock lazily, spreading his own cum over your length.

You lifted your lover up and turned around, sitting him against the headboard. You stood on the bed, looming over him with your big cock pressed against his cheek. “Ready for more?” You asked with a wolfish grin. Dick responded by taking the head of your cock in his mouth. You let Dick ease into it on his own, watching as he went from sucking the head to licking it all over, eating his own cum off your cock. However, your patience was not endless. You grabbed him by the jaw and let a finger trace along where his head and neck connected. Dick felt the tingle of the spell that temporarily disabled his gag reflex. He understood and his mouth fell open, eyes looking up at you expectantly.

You braced yourself against the wall and leaned forward to shove your cock inside Dick’s mouth as far as it would go. Though he could no longer gag, there were still limits to his human body, so it was simply impossible for him to take you balls deep. Not that it mattered. His throat bulged and you moved back again, gently fucking his throat at first. Dick kept looking up at you with those obedient eyes as if he had accepted his fate as permanent cocksleeve. It was hard to keep the pace gentle. Before you knew it, you were fucking his throat like it was all he was, just a cocksleeve. “Look at you, just taking my cock down your throat like you’re a human fleshlight,” you grunted as you pushed in a little past what you knew was Dick’s usual limit. His eyes watered, but he could not gag. When you pulled out, he gasped for air. While he was panting, you leaned down to lick the tears off his face that had formed.

Then you did it again and again, alternating between degrading Dick while you fucked his throat and letting him breathe while you sated your hunger with his tears. It was so hot, your lover taking it so well. However, you did not want to cum in his mouth or on his face. There was only one place your cum belonged. You pulled out and grabbed his hair, savouring the tears, before you roughly manhandled him onto his back. You bent him in two, knowing how flexible he was. Dick put his feet behind his head, hands on his ass to show you the best view. With a swipe of your thumb over his hole, Dick’s ass started producing slick based on how aroused he was. It was unsurprising that he immediately started leaking like you had already bred him full.

“Such a good, dumb, bitch. Look how fucking horny you are, even after I made you cum 3 times. You’re leaking like a slut.” Dick had no reply, not that he would have been able to say anything while you rammed your cock inside him. The slide was easy, but the stretch was so sudden. You did not start out with gentle thrusts this time, wanting it to hurt a little.

Dick had been prepped, but there was no amount of fingering that made taking your cock not bordering between pain and pleasure. He threw his head back, moaning and whining. “Breed me, please, please, I need to be full, please,” he begged and begged in between your harsh thrusts. The wall got a beating too as the headboard slammed against it and the bed creaked under you. Dick could not stop begging. You were tethering on the edge, but you wanted to see him cum once more.

Dick’s hard member twitched against his stomach. Not a single touch had been required. You grabbed Dick by the back of his head and pressed your foreheads together. “Cum for me, now.”

Dick shook his head as much as he could in your grip. “Together, please,” he begged, tears already forming in the corners of his eyes. You gave him an evil smile that showed your disagreement. “Please, you’ll keep going, I don’t know if I can…”

You cut him off with your free hand that grasped his cock. “I said now,” you growled. He howled as you mercilessly fucking him to orgasm with your hand and cock. You were impressed by the two drops of cum that still managed to come out of his cock. And then, of course, you kept going, fucking him balls deep while you stroked his cock. Dick screamed, his legs coming down, but between your foreheads pressed together and your cock in his ass, he had nowhere to go. He begged, a string of “please” endlessly spilling from his mouth. He writhed. He cried. His tears were delicious, filled with lust, desperation and pleasure.

You could not get enough of it, the flavour consisted of the most exquisite mixture of emotions that you ever tasted. However, you were not untouchable yourself. Dick came again, his ass spasming around your cock and your knot inflated, locking you in as you spilled your seed deep inside Dick. He could feel it, crying out as his walls were even stretched more by the influx of cum. You let go of his cock, watching his belly that clearly showed the outline of your cock inflate a little.

You wrapped his legs around your hips, trying to make him as comfortable as he could be, while waiting for your knot to go down. Meanwhile, you licked the remaining tears off him and stroked his hair. “There you go, so good for me, my love,” you whispered. You pecked his cheek, concerned by how Dick was still shaking and looking like he fought seven planets worth of evil aliens at once. His eyes were still closed, mouth open to catch his breath. “Say something, my love,” you murmured, concerned by his silence.

Dick’s body went slack and he finally opened his eyes to look at you. “Promise me something,” he spoke softly, voice a little hoarse. You nodded and let your hands wander, giving him gentle touches all over to comfort him. “I can’t actually die from too much pleasure, right?”

You tried to hold back your laughter, knowing that too much movement would be really hard on Dick’s ass right now. “Silly boy,” you mused as you leaned down for a loving kiss. Dick could not do much right now, but he still tried to reciprocate. “I would never let anything happen to my special human.”

Dick smiled and nodded. “Good, good…” He clearly wanted to say more, but did not have the energy for it. You did not press; he needed his energy for later.

#dick grayson #nightwing #Young Justice #dc #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #dc x reader #dc x male reader #young justice x reader #young justice x male reader #young justice x you #demon reader

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readychilledwine · 9 months

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Hey. It's me again. I was wondering if you could write something. Where reader is taking care of her younger siblings because her father who was a single dad had died due to some illness which she has now and it is going to kill her. The ic notices last minute. Az is just pissed because she is his wife and she made up a lie to break his heart. You can decided if there is a cure they found or not. Thanku. Hope you are doing well

I'm convinced you want me to break Azriel's (and my) heart, and I almost did it this time 👀👀👀👀

Losing Forever

Warnings - illness, mentions of death, heartbreak, losing a family member, angst with a happier ending than originally planned, mentions of medical procedures and blood. Ps- there's a little hint of Azris in there if you squint. 👀

A/n - I changed the ending of this two or three times, and I'm not 100% happy, but that's my inner perfectionist. I seriously considered something less happy, but I think I mentally care about Azriel having a happy ending way too much.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Madja stared at you in silence. "Where and how?" The healer finally said before pulling any books she could. "Y/n, where and how?"

She had confirmed your fear as you began to pick at the loose skin on your nails. "My father had written for me," you went into the story, the old healer looking at you every so often as she flipped through page after page.

The conclusion was the same. Illryian Fever. You had heard of it wiping whole camps clean. Incurable, deadly, and incredibly painful for the affected. "You cannot go home. You could pass this to Nyx, Rhys, Azriel, or Cassian if they get too close to you." You nodded. "I will keep looking, y/n, but I have to go tell the High Lord which camp it was spreading through and that you have it."

Your trip home had taken much longer than you and Azriel had believed it would. He crossed his arms over his chest as Madja sat across from Rhys. The healer's face was pale. Her hands shaking with nerves. "Not that I am unhappy to see you, old friend, but why are you here?" Rhys leaned back a brow raised.

They heard her throat clear before a pregnant pause came. "Illyrian fever struck the Snowfall Camp. At least 50 are dead, countless are infected." Azriel's heart froze, and Cassian looked at him.

Rhys swallowed thickly. "Why do you have this information before I do?" He prayed to the Mother that the answer they all knew was coming wouldn't be said. "Surely, if it was spreading, I would know by now."

Madja rose a brow at Rhysand before taking his hand in hers. "You know the answer to that question, High Lord. She's in the Halls of Healing. I will not allow her to come out here. I will not allow visitors until a shield is in place." Rhys closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "I need anything you can get me regarding similar strands of illnesses if there will be a small chance of saving her."

Azriel felt Cassian grab him as his knees gave out. He felt his brother lowering him to the floor. He couldn't hear Rhys and Madja trying to talk to him. Every sound was muffled as if he was underwater, his heart rate was skyrocketing, his eyes wide with panic. The sound of his heartbeat increasing became a pounding drum. The noise was all he could focus on until your soft voice came into his mind.

Just a week, my love. Father said Luka, and he had simple colds. I will be right back to you. He rewatched the moment now, replaying the subtle things in your body language. The distant look in your eyes, the way you kissed him harder than you had for any other previous goodbye.

You knew, he realized, you knew, and you lied.

After countless hours spent hunched over books and chasing away sleep, Rhys had found a way for them to all see you. He kept a shield between you all, clutching Nyx tightly to him as he tried to reach you and cried for his favorite aunt.

It had been a week with no news regarding a cure, and your body was clearly tired of fighting. You had stopped eating 2 days ago, spending hours now in the throes of sleepless dreams and fevered nightmares. He had brought the heir to say goodbye, knowing from Madja's predictions, the progression, and years of experience you had until morning unless a miracle came.

Feyre was in the room with you. Holding your hand as she sobbed heavily into the bed. She could not pass the disease unless she made the choice to shift, and the wall Rhys was offering was too much for her. She needed to hold your hand to feel your soft palms one last time. But, it was too much for him as well. The sight of you like this was eating away at him. "Feyre, darling, please." She nodded, with one last kiss goodbye placed on your forehead.

Cassian and Nesta came next. Lady Death was held back by her husband, his hand resting on her swollen stomach. He took in your peaceful face, the countless medications being pumped into you to keep you comfortable. Ness unleashed a heartbreaking cry after they had spent almost an hour talking to you, hoping your mind wasn't lost enough that it could hear them still. Cassian took that as the cue, gently ushering his wife out of the room and into the large area Madja had set up for the Inner Circle to wait in.

It went on like that until they had all visited you. Elain and Lucien, then Mor, then Amren. Eris had even come, warming your room and sheets more as he watched you shiver. He walked back into the room, kissing Elain's temple to greet his sister in law before placing a supportive hand on Azriel's shoulder.

It was not every day someone felt the mating bond fading. Numbness had taken over the spymaster, along with anger, as he found letters confirming you knew what you were possibly walking into. But you had done it for your father. Your brother.

You had done it because they had no one else. Your mother was long gone, and your sisters married off to other camps. He did not rank high enough to garner attention from healers, your half brother was merely a child, and it would have been seen as survival of the fittest.

You had risked your life to ensure their last moments were comfortable, and now Azriel would pay that price.

"Azriel," Madja said softly, "if you want to say goodbye, you need to now." Eris and Lucien all but dragged the male to your room when he refused to move, shutting the door behind him and waiting in the hall.

Azriel felt ill as he took you in. This wasn't you. The sickly pale skin, the hallow cheeks, the lack of laughter and light. He felt a knot forming in his throat as he mindless stepped as close to you as he could before the shock of the barrier hit him.

He couldn't even hold your hand in your last moments. He sat in the chair slowly. "Why didn't you tell me?" His voice finally broke the heaviness of the room. "Why did you lie to me?" He felt tears damping his lashes before falling. "You are my mate, y/n. Why did you lie to me about this?"

He watched you, knowing he wouldn't get a response. "I'm fucking angry. I have to spent your last moments angry with you because of a choice you made. We could have sent healers, love," his voice cracked. "We could have sent anyone but you."

Azriel was openly weeping now. "You promised me forever, y/n. You promised me years of love, joy, and unconditional happiness." He knew you had not broken the latter of the 3. You had given Azriel countless memories. Countless moments of laughter, of warmth and love.

You had melted that icy part deep down in his soul that was slowly resolidifying as he accepted the loss and anger he felt. "You promised me forever, and you shit on it. You shit on me, on my feelings, our marriage, our bond." The coldness grew with each word. "Did you even actually love me, or was that a lie too?"

He knew deep down it wasn't and watched as your finger, the one with your wedding ring, twitched. Rhys entered the room calmly behind him. "She can fucking hear you, Azriel. She's awake," he chastised. "Do not let your last moments with her be moments of anger and self sabot-" Rhys froze, his eyes flicking to the doorway. Hope filled Rhysand's features. "Hold on, y/n. Just please keep fighting, sis."

Madja and Helion, followed by Thesan, ran into the room. Rhys pulled Azriel back and away, making room for the three of them to work. "Mother, fuck," Helion said softly as he took your hand. "This better work fast, Thesan."

The Lord of Dawn rolled his eyes. "I didn't exactly have countless illyrians lining up to test it, Helion. Especially not ones in this advanced of a condition." Azriel flinched as Thesan shoved something into the vein of your hand. A soft whimper of pain fell from your throat. "I know, lovely. I'm sorry. This might be very uncomfortable." He set a bag of clear glowing liquid on the rack. "Who's blood?"

"Mine," Helion immediately offered. "I don't want to risk you taking it home to your winged legion from potential blood contact."

Thesan's jaw twitched. "I don't know if you can handle another one, Hel."

"Use me." A calm cool voice said from the doorway. "I owe him a life debt. Use me." Thesan nodded, motioning for the owner of the voice to move closer.

Eris stepped forward and through the shield, taking the seat Helion had moved closer to you. The heir held your hand gently as Thesan tapped into his vein. "You might be here awhile, Eris." The heir nodded. "I also cannot promise you doing this will save her, but it's her best shot until Tarquin, Tamlin, or Kallias can get here. It works best with a high lord's blood."

Your breathing had evened out, and Azriel watched in silence as Thesan hooked one more needle to your opposite arm from Eris and into a different container. He back away along with Helion, watching as Eris's blood slowly began to travel the tubes and into you, and your own began to leave.

"There's a similar illness in the Peregryn and the Seraphim," Thesan began slowly. "Drakon and I figured this out many years ago. The contagion cannot survive high fae blood for some reason. We had figured Rhysand's father would have done the same, but it appears not considering the situation."

Rhys scoffed slightly. "You two give my father far too much credit on anything. Velaris is the best thing he created, with the exception of myself of course." The joke broke the tension. "How long until she's not contagious."

Helion motioned towards the bag. "The second that started pumping into her, she stopped. That is water from the fountain Amarantha tried to destroy under the mountain. It's sacred and all healing. We were hoping with how poorly she was doing it would prevent anything from progressing further."

Azriel felt the shield drop and ran to your open side. Taking a cold hand in his, feeling the weight of your ring. "This was successful in the camps. I apologize it took us so long to get here. Finding Illyrians willing to help us help them instead of accept death was-" Helion just shrugged, looking at Rhys. "You all are too stubborn for your own good. Eris, what do you want for food? You'll need it."

Rhys held his hand up. "I know where he likes to eat here. I will send you two food. I'm going to get everyone else out for a break, though. And to explain what's happening." He motioned for Thesan and Helion to come with him, squeezing Azriel's shoulder and shooting Eris one last look before shutting the door.

Silence fell between the two of them, both of their eyes locked on you. "If this saves her, you need to grovel and apologize immediately." Eris would not look at him. "I would have never said to my mate what you said to her on their deathbed."

Azriel nodded. "Why are you doing this?"

Eris finally looked up at him, before looking at you. "You came and saved me from that bitch of a queen and the deathless God, Azriel. She nursed me back to health and healed me after countless beating from my father. You are my friends, even if you do not acknowledge that. I care about you, Az." Eris paused, his eyes focused on the fire, starting it back up into a gentle blaze to heat the room again. "Besides, I quite enjoy your wife. She is wonderful. Even if you are a moody brute."

Azriel laughed lightly. Allowing silence to fall between the two of them again. His shadows appeared some time later with two books from thin air, taking one to Eris and dropping one in Azriel's lap. They then pushed side tables to the two males as Rhys sent them food.

Eris guffawed in awe as Azriel's shadows began to cut their steaks. "Is this your way of saying thank you, shadowsinger?" Azriel nodded. Opening his mouth while staring at Eris to allow his companions to feed him. "You're welcome, Azriel. She looks better already." And you did. Color had slightly returned to your face. Your lashes occasionally fluttered against your cheeks.

They welcomed in quiet again, finishing their meals and desserts before a soft knock came on the door almost an hour later. A shadow opened it, and Eris's face almost fell before he chuckled through his breath. "You are not the one I was expecting."

The scent of rain and fresh cut grass hit Azriel. Had this been a different circumstance, Azriel would have shielded you, protectrd you, but he knew there was only one way this male got in, and that sacrifice from Rhysand shocked him.

"My schedule clears easily these days." Tamlin placed a hand on Azriel's shoulder. "You look like shit, Azriel." The shadowsinger watched Thesan appear and began to unhook Eris.

The heir moved to the chair by Azriel, drinking the water a shadow had handed to him as the small puncture wound instantly healed. They watched as Thesan hooked Tamlin up to you. They watched as Tamlin's blood seemed to instantly make a huge difference. You had stopped shivering completely. Your body relaxed. You were even breathing deeper.

Thesan observed for a while. Watching as Rhys then sent Tamlin food, causing the two high lords to laugh. "Tarquin will be here by morning, and Kal will be here tomorrow afternoon. The Inner Circle is each going to take turns after you, with the exception of Rhysand. Feyre will sit in his place. Then Tarquin, Kal, then Helion and myself. I think it will take all of us since she was so advanced into the illness."

Tamlin nodded. "I apologize I was not here sooner."

Thesan shook his head. "Eris was more than enough to get her off the brink. Now, all you have to do is sit and stabilize her, and from there, we will heal her."

Thesan crossed his arms in front of his body, brows raised as he nodded to the plate in front of Tamlin. "I was informed not to leave until you ate a bite." Tamlin laughed as shadows copied their previous motions, cutting his steak like they had for Eris before holding a bite to his face.

Eris had fallen asleep, his head resting on Azriel's shoulder. Thesan grabbed a blanket, pulling it over the heir, and Azriel wrapped a wing around him on instinct as well.

"She's going to recover, Azriel," Thesan said. "Might want to start writing that apology letter. Rhys said her thoughts regarding you were not kind when she called for him. Something about stupid illyrian brutes and over egotistical bastards?"

Tamlin and Azriel laughed. Azriel didn't take his eyes off of you as you shakily raised a single finger to him. "So a fancy date, an apology letter, and a vacation. Noted, my love."

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel

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yoditopascal · 1 year

Text

My Jake

Pairings: Jake Lockley x afab!reader

Tags: SMUT MDNI,NOT BETA READ, unprotected sex, rough sex, dark!possessive Jake, overstimulation, jealous!Jake. It’s super short sorry y’all

a/n: I’ve been rewatching avatar and the way Neytiri says ‘ma Jake’ got to me

To say Jake Lockley was interested in you was an understatement. Mans had a borderline obsession.

He just had to know how you ticked and once he did he doubted he’d ever be able to let you go again.

Avatar to the god Anubis he first found himself fascinated in the fact that you couldn’t die. Through Marc and Steven’s eyes he’d seen you be stabbed, shot, had your throat slit and more and everytime you just healed and kept fighting. That’s what drew him to you, simple morbid curiosity. Your connection to the duat and the way you fought as an avatar was beautiful in the most poetic way he could think of. You essentially became a god of death, sucking the life out of evil with one touch, ferrying them to the afterlife to be judged for their wrong doings. He'd never seen anyone fight the way you did. And the emotions you expressed while you did it, he couldn’t wrap his head around why you wept for some of them but you did and it made him all the more curious about you. You were different.

Next was your love for Steven and Marc. Though platonic in nature you still gave them your heart in full. Steven was almost instantaneous, the man had you wrapped around his little finger with his puppy eyes and soft voice. To you he could do no wrong. Marc took a bit more work but after a few life or death missions together and the whole saving the world from Harrow fiasco Marc was just as much of a trusted friend as Steven was. Jake wasn’t sure if you could tell when he front and pretended to be Steven or Marc but whether you could tell or not you treated him just the same, voice just as sweet when you spoke to him and only him, touch just as delicate and as soft, sometimes he wished you would just hold his face in your palm and never let go something he’d usually never admit but you made him feel…different.

Lastly what drew him to you was jealousy. He saw how you looked at Layla when she wasn’t looking or how you hung onto every word she said. He also saw how she looked at you sometimes too, how she smiled shyly and looked at you through her lashes. He couldn’t let that slide.

Which was how you found yourself underneath him, tears in your eyes as you wailed with every aggressive thrust of his hips.

Hovering over you, his pupils blown with feral lust Jake grabs at your hips, desperate to anchor himself as he drove away savagely at your core.

A whine seeped from your lips, your skin felt like it was on fire, sensitive to his contact, burning touches following each placement of his long fingers.

“Give me one more cariño”

He was starting to lose himself in you, his hands continued to dig into you as his thrusts got harder, rougher, making a complete mess of the both of you, leaving bruised touches in his wake. He felt your pussy suck him in even more, cunt dripping with every movement he made.

Looking down he became mesmerized by the way he disappeared inside of you, another wail escaped from your lips as his thumb found your clit once more, refusing to let up as he rubbed furious little circles into it, body growing feverish under his gaze and from the intense pleasure you were experiencing.

“Give it to me cariño, I need one more.”

With every flick of his finger, hot pleasure rocks its way into the pit of your stomach, you cum quickly without warning with a scream, overwhelmed by his heavy body on top of you and overstimulation, causing him to pause but only for a second before he starts up again.

“Please my Jake, please”

You pleaded completely spent, lightly pushing against his abdomen in a weak attempt to get him to stop.

He ignored you, focusing instead on sucking along your breast with fervor. You reached up and tugged onto his hair hard, just enough to get him to listen to your pleas but he only grunted, continuing his menstruations as he ground himself into your core.

“So fucking wet for me hermosa, gimme one more.”

#moon knight x reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley smut #black reader #ma jake #my jake

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that-sarcastic-writer · 1 month

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Heartless

Takeshi Kovacs X F!Reader

Summary: you get hurt, and all you want is for Takeshi to comfort you

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, choking, praising, bit of soft!dom!Tak, creampie, explicit language, mentions of murder, blood, typical violence for this show

WC: 4.5k

A/N: please I know, lia you wrote something??? Ik, fucking wild. Its been like 6months lmao. But I was rewatching altered carbon and man I really missed tak. I might slowly dive back into my joel era but for now this is this. I dedicate this to @a-reader-and-a-writer. If this flops oh well, at least I was happy writing it.

You often regretted your life choices. Stupid decisions you made as a teenager that ultimately led you into a world of violence and death. It seemed never ending. Because no matter how many times you tried to go straight, use your skills and intelligence for something good, your reputation always preceded you, and you would end up in the same place; with a gun in your hand, covered in blood, and with another body to add to your conscience. Though, ninety percent of the time it wasn't your fault. Just like this time it was not your fault. Trouble just seemed to find you. Or you liked to find trouble, or maybe both.

“Ah Miss, what a pleasant surprise.” The AI that was this lovely hotel greeted you. “Oh. It appears that you are injured. Do you require medical assistance?”

You looked down at your blood stained clothes and hands, you felt the slightest throb on your shoulder from where a bullet had grazed you, and the stinging burn on your side from where a switchblade slashed at your skin. But to be completely honest you had grown numb to it. You simply shrugged.

“Nope. Just need a shower and some tequila.” You waved him off and you walked straight to the elevator, but before you entered, you turned around in your tracks to narrow your eyes at Poe. “Where is Takeshi?”

“Ah, Mr. Kovacs is not here at the moment. He left some hours ago to attend to some private matters he didn't disclose with me.” He answered plainly and you nodded.

“Shocker. Well if he comes, don't tell him I'm here? Cool? Great.” You were about to go up to the room you used whenever you and Takeshi were fighting, when Poe spoke again.

“Why is that? Wouldn't he like to know you are injured?”

“Oh fuck, no. Don't even tell him you saw me like this.”

Takeshi would go absolutely mad if someone spoke to you the wrong way. You still remember one time you joined him on one of his interrogations, for one reason or another. The man wouldn't keep his eyes off you, though you paid it no mind, you were used to men being nothing short of disgusting, or them calling you every sexual name in the book. But Takeshi? Man, pissed was nothing to describe the level of anger going through him. He didn't stop until the man was nothing but red. You, of course, while amused by his protectiveness of you, got him to stop.

“Tak, sweetheart, you need him conscious and breathing, don't you think?”

“He won't be doing much of either anymore.”

Takeshi was cute when he was angry, more so when he was overprotective of you. But even then, there were some lines you never wanted to cross. And if he ever saw you like this, the thought of someone hurting you like this would drive him mad. No stack would be left unharmed by him if he had any say in the matter.

So for the sake of the men you did leave alive, it would be best if Tak didn't see you like this.

“Well, why not?” Poe pushed, clearly he didn't understand the level of insanity Takeshi was capable of reaching.

“Because, if Tak sees me like this, he is not going to be very happy. He is going to actually cut somebody's head off—Again. Actually no, scratch that, he is going to decapitate and destack a lot of somebody's,” You said as slowly and as clearly as you possibly could, pausing to stare at the hologram as if to make a point. “So do not tell Takeshi I'm here, or that you saw me like this.”

So much for wanting to stay out of trouble for once.

~~~~~~

Man what a fucking shitshow. Truly, he didn't understand when the world had gotten so damn complicated. He didn't like to leave messes, he really didn't, but sometimes people would just force his hand, he had to get answers one way or another.

He should call you. Yes. He should do that. If there was one thing in this fucked up reality of his that he knew would never go wrong, it was seeing you.

“Mr. Kovacs,” Poe appeared at the bar, getting Takeshi's attention, but he didn't even bother to look. “I was not expecting to see you tonight. Were you able to attend to your matters?”

“Yeah.” Was all he responded to as he walked towards the elevator. His eyes were glued to the ground as a cigarette hung from his lips, he was tired and annoyed, frustrated and even more tired, but something caught his attention as he thought about his own self misery.

Blood.

“Why is there blood here?” He asked Poe with a slight shift from apathy to alarm as he traced the trails of blood droplets back the way he came.

“Oh… Yes.. That… Well you see.”

“Was someone here?” He asked with sharpness in his naturally baritone voice, looking around for anything out of place or broken, but everything looked normal.

“No. Well… Yes.. But..”

Takeshi’s head snapped to look at the AI, eyes narrowed as he stared intensely, waiting for an answer.

Oh. It better not be.

~~~~~~

Just get in the shower. You can do that, can't you?

Apparently you struggled more than you should have with that. It wasn't like you had a bullet in you, but then again, you also had gotten thrown through a table, and punched repeatedly, and stabbed, and shot—kind of. But man was the pain starting to infect every muscle, every joint, every crevice of your body. You weren't exactly sure how you got out of the shower. But you managed to wash the dried blood off you. Though you were still left with two open wounds that were most likely going to have to be cauterized.

You weren't going to enjoy this very much.

You were hoping to just throw yourself on the bed and get it over with before Takeshi decided to spontaneously show up. By then your wounds would have been closed, what were two new scars? It's not like Takeshi would notice two more among so many. Or maybe he would notice, but by then it would have been enough time for him to be angry about it but not actually do anything about it.

Pushing through the now throbbing pain shooting through your shoulder every time you moved your arm, you managed to get yourself into your underwear, but that was as far as that went.

You had made it halfway from the bathroom to your bed when you heard your name being called, rather loudly, by a voice you were all too familiar with.

Well fuck.

Takeshi followed the blood. There were drops on the elevator floor, stains on the buttons of the elevator. When the door opened, he followed the drops as his heart began to race. It wasn't a lot of blood, you weren't bleeding out, that was for sure, but his mind wouldn't stop racing. He called your name as he walked further into your room.

His jaw tightened at the sight of you, slightly hunched over, holding your side as you limped across the room. And the look you gave him was one of deer in headlights.

“Takeshi…” Your voice was hesitant, soft, wary as you leaned on one of the couches to support yourself.

He was in front of you in three, maybe four, long, heavy strides. His eyes were frantic, darting all over as he looked over your face. Your eye looked like it was going to bruise, your lip split and your jaw looked angry with a forming bruise.

“Who..” His words were barely audible, just barely above a rasp as he gripped your non bruised jaw tightly, forcing you to look at him.

“Tak…”

“Who the fuck did this to you?”

You should not be getting wet at the sound of his angry words, but the rasp laced in his tongue had you clenching your thighs together. Takeshi was hot when he was angry.

“It's fine, Tak. I'm fine, really.” You looked up to find his frantic eyes filled with fiery emotions, his jaw clenching and unclenching with each uneven breath he took. “You should see the other guy.”

Normally Takeshi found your dry humor amusing. But he couldn't get himself to even let out a chuckle, instead he huffed as he looked over your face.

“I want a name. Right now.” His words were barely audible, between huffs and puffs as he begrudgingly helped you sit down on the loveseat. You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

“Can't. Kinda shot him in the stack.” You answered flatly, huffing out a small breath as you threw your head back over the armrest. Takeshi narrowed his eyes at you, noting each bruise and mark on your torso, including the angry looking cut on your side.

“This wasn't just one person,” it wasn't a question, it was a fact, he knew that. He stared blankly at you as he waited for your response. The sigh you let out was confirmation enough. “What happened? And I want an answer without the attitude.”

You winced, a hiss of discomfort leaving your mouth as he ran the laser over the large gash on your side. You closed your eyes, counting to five in your head before you answered.

“I thought I was going in for a job. Something about needing access to some encrypted files,” You recalled what you had so innocently assumed to be just a simple hacking job, in and out with a decent pay, oh how mistaken you were. “The dude that had contacted me suddenly starts getting all up in my face, and asks me some weird questions about you. And when I told him to fuck off, his friends came out.”

You shot him a glare when he silently moved to your shoulder, but that one was less deep so it didn't hurt as much, it definitely didn't hurt as much as when the bullet actually touched your skin though.

“Why didn't you call me?” His eyes were sharp on you as he waited for your answer. Was he seriously angry at you?

“Oh right, and what was I supposed to say, ‘oh, hey sweetie, could you please come shoot some people I was doing illegal business with in the stack with me, pretty please?’” You raised your voice to a higher pitch, doing this valley girl accent which only made him inhale deeply.

“Do you ever answer anything without the bullshit?” He muttered with exasperation as he angrily lit up a cigarette and took a drag out of it.

“I handled it, Takeshi. Let it go.” You ultimately sighed, reaching over to brush your bruised knuckles over the side of his face.

His eyes found your face, he saw the forming bruises, and he remembered the blood. Somebody did this to you. Somebody hurt you and he wasn't there to stop it. You could have died. He could feel the anger settle in the pit of his stomach and he began to feel the urge to rip somebody's stack out with his bare hands. His fists clenched at his sides.

“Like hell.” He stood up so fast it gave you whiplash. You didn't want him to go. You needed him.

“Don't go,” You stood up so fast your side was definitely screaming at you but you didn't care. He wasn't looking at you, his eyes looked way past your head at the nearest wall. But you grabbed his face, forcing him to meet your eyes. “I need you.. Please? For once just stay with me.”

Please.

You didn't beg often. But when you did, there was not a thing in this world he could ever deny you. He found your eyes, big mistake. The second he saw those pleading eyes he was done for. He hated the ways in which you could so easily tug at the strings of his cold heart. For the longest time he thought he didn't have a heart, until he saw you for the first time and that thing started beating.

His mouth was on yours, he kissed you long and hard. He grabbed your face as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. He held you, pulling your body against his. Your fist bunched around his shirt, gripping it like vice as he kissed you with fervor, like this was the last thing he ever wanted to do in this world.

“You wanna take care of me? Hm?” You spoke softly against his lips, your fingers now threading through his long golden strands.

The grunt that rumbled in his throat was almost animalistic. He wanted you on that bed and he never wanted you to leave it.

“You're in pain..” He muttered through deep breaths as his long fingers gripped your jaw, forcing your head back as he brushed his nose against yours, holding on to the little stability he had left. “Don't wanna hurt you.”

“I like it when you hurt me. I want it.” Your words were soft and desperate, quiet as you brushed your lips over his. Pain was the last thing on your mind when you had him this close, when you felt his touch, when you knew he was hanging in by a thread. You needed this more than you needed air in your lungs.

“You want it?” He repeated, voice as low as it could go, eyes closed as he waited for that confirmation, for your permission, to absolutely ruin you.

“Yes. Please Takeshi, I need it.”

There wasn't anything better than Takeshi's cock in your guts after a brush with death.

His large calloused hands found the back of your bare thighs, he so easily hoisted you up around his waist as his lips crashed against yours without another word being said. He was a man of little words afterall. He was a man of action. And he was goddamn sure he would give you exactly what you needed.

Your back landed on the soft duvets, but his lips never parted from yours. Your frantic hands shoved his coat off his shoulders, then the buttons of his shirt as he fumbled with his pants. It took some time, between desperate grabs and frantic hands, he was just as naked as you, only your underwear left between the two of you.

His lips found your neck, wet kisses all over the skin as his hands roamed your body. He pulled back enough for his eyes to look you over. He would never get tired of looking at you.

“You're so…” He didn't have to say it, the look in those hazel eyes of his said every word he wasn't capable of saying out loud.

You gave him a smile, your eyes big with both longing and endearment. He kissed you one more time before he tugged your panties down. He settled just beside you, thick thighs caging one of yours as his long fingers brushed over your clit, leaving you to gasp against his mouth. His lips curved up slightly as his fingers moved in slow, long circles. He could feel you get wetter and wetter the longer he kept up his torture. He liked to hear you whine and beg for it.

“Tak..” His name fell from your lips when you no longer could keep your mouth closed, you were gripping at his shoulder as you helplessly grinded against his fingers, desperate for more.

“Mhm?” His lips were on your ear, his warm breath ghosting over the side of your face with each sharp inhale he took. “Need me to fuck you with my fingers, then with my cock? Is that it?”

You were nodding so hard, gasping softly when he circled his fingers around your wet hole, teasing you.

“Mhm!—Please—” You didn't even get the chance to finish your sentence when two long fingers buried themselves deep into your cunt.

Your lips fell open as your eyes unconsciously rolled back into your head, the delicious feeling of his thick fingers filling you. It wasn't long before Takeshi was all but fucking you with his fingers, and you were nothing but sobs of pleasure. He buried his fingers to the knuckle, brushing your most sensitive spot with each snap of your wrist.

Fuck did you look pretty like this. But you looked prettier when you were drunk on his cock.

His free hand gripped your hair, keeping your head in place so he could watch the way your face would contort with pleasure. The lewd sound of your wet cunt being filled by his fingers wasn't lost on him either. He loved it. He was addicted to it.

“That's it, let it go, sweetheart.” He grunted through his teeth when he realized you were so close, the way your hips were so desperately following the movements of his hand and the grip you had on his wrist was all but telling. He gave you a long satisfied hum when he felt your release coat his hand with a sob of his name.

His fingers only left you when you were digging your nails into his wrist. His lips curled up in amusement at your desperate attempts but he ultimately complied. His lips were on your forehead as he eased you back into steady breathing.

“You okay?” He was quiet, but you heard it. You simply nodded in response, still not fully able to find your voice. Good enough. “Good, ‘cause I'm gonna give you exactly what you deserve now.”

He grabbed your arms and flipped you on your stomach with ease. You were taken aback, instinctively pushing yourself up on your forearms, but a hand on your back forced you back down.

“Easy. Just relax, sweetheart,” he shushed you softly, you felt him move around for a second until you felt him behind you, right in between your open thighs. “Lemme take care of you, hm?”

Your response was in the form of a soft hum, you lied flat on your stomach, your head to the side so you could breathe and your ass up enough for him to do as he pleased. And you waited, rather impatiently. You could feel Takeshi's hands on your hips, then up your back, until one of them settled on your shoulder blades.

You were about to open your mouth when you felt the head of his cock brush over your wet clit. The only sound leaving your throat was that of a choked out moan.

“You want it?” His lips were on your ear, voice smooth, but with this baritone rasp, a combination that drove you insane. You were nodding into the blankets.

“Yes, Takeshi. Please.”

Fuck, he was rolling his eyes at the sound of his name leaving your lips like that. He didn't need to say anything else. He pushed himself into you with a long, hard thrust that had you gasping.

“Ahh….” You squeezed your eyes shut, hands squeezing the sheets in front of you at the feeling of his cock stretching your walls. You have been with Takeshi for some time now, but you never truly got used to the size of him (with this sleeve at least). “Fuck— you're so..”

He eased a hand up and down your back, shushing you softly, he was used to it by now. When he felt you start to back into his cock he knew you were fine. He dug his fingers into your shoulder, holding you down on the mattress as he snapped his hips. A gasped cry left your lips. Again, and again with each brush of his cock, until he had you sobbing into the mattress.

Takeshi, he fucked hard, and he liked it rough, but he had learned to take his time, he learned to take it slow, drag out the feeling for as long as possible, until you were nothing but a sobbing mess. His hand was wrapped around your hair, pushing your head down as he leaned over you. His chest was flush against your back as he rutted his hips against your ass, his lips on the back of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses everywhere he could.

Takeshi wasn't very talkative, ever, but goddamn was he noisy. His heavy pants, ragged grunts, the occasional fuck, were all in your ear which each delicious drag of his cock.

“Goddamn,” he breathed out, nipping at your jaw as he pulled your head up enough to look at your fucked out face, “you feel so fucking good.”

“Mhmmm. Shit, Tak. Feels so—” You couldn't even finish a cohesive sentence you were so cock drunk, so high on the feeling of his cock brushing that one spot that had you rolling your eyes. You reached behind you, trying to grab him, any of him.

“Feels good, doesn't it baby?” You could hear the slight smirk on his lips as he wrapped his arm over your neck from shoulder to shoulder, almost as if he was putting you in a headlock.

“Yes! Fuck yes—”

“Of course it does.”

That was enough of taking it slow for one night.

Takeshi held you in place with his arm over your neck as he drilled into you. The only sounds leaving your mouth were sobs and choked out pants. You couldn't say any words at that point. He was fucking you so hard into that mattress you didn't even realize when the burn in your stomach started to build. All you knew it was that you were digging your nails into his arms so hard the marks would be there for days. It felt good to be caged under his body, with nowhere to go. Not that you wanted to be anywhere else.

“C'mon, let me take care of you. I'm right here.” He rasped out, hanging on by a thread himself. God, it felt so fucking good. You were barely hanging on. But the second his thumb found your swollen clit you were done for. You couldn't even make a sound, you fell into a silent cry, eyes rolled into the back of your head as your release washed over you. “That's it. I got you.”

He could feel your release coat his cock, and the feeling of you coming all over him only made him go over the edge himself. He gave you two, maybe three more long, hard drags of his cock before he was spilling himself inside you with a breathy fuck leaving his lips in the process.

You all but collapsed, your head falling on the pillows as you panted, Takeshi did the same. He dropped his face on your neck, eyes closed as he steadied his breath. He stayed there for some time, he couldn't hold himself up forever, but fuck this felt so nice. You underneath him, wrapped under his arms, nobody could hurt you here. His lips eventually found the side of your head for a chaste kiss before he moved to lay beside you. But the distance between you lasted a whole five seconds because he was pulling you to him. He positioned you to face him, one leg thrown over his torso as both of his arms caged you in. He would keep you here if he could.

Silence ultimately drowned out your soft breaths, but not once did he stop looking at you. And you could tell something eating at him, weighing on his chest. You brought a hand to his face and you saw him close his eyes with a sigh.

“I'm sorry I wasn't there.” He finally said, riddled with guilt and anger all over again. You frowned softly and shook your head at him.

“Stop that, okay? It wasn't your fault.” You answered, smoothing out the soft frown above his eyebrows. He looked at you, watching as you brushed the loose strands of hair out of his eyes but he said nothing. “I'm a big girl, Takeshi. What I do or what messes I get myself into are not your fault. So stop. If I was mad at you I wouldn't let you rearrange my guts, would I?”

Takeshi didn't laugh often. Or ever really. But sometimes your absurdity brought on a genuine chuckle out of him.

“Aw, so he has a sense of humor. He's not a robot!” You snorted, raising your voice like you were announcing it to the entire city. He rolled his eyes at you.

“I don't fuck like a robot, do I?” There was a tiny shit eating grin on his face which made you shove his shoulder playfully.

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up.” You kissed him with a soft laugh.

~~~~~~~

Goddammit Takeshi Kovacs.

This man just simply couldn't wake up and stay in bed with you for one day. Just one fucking time, you asked.

You groaned tiredly as you stretched out your sore muscles before sitting up. No tall angry looking envoy anywhere. How tragic. You were about to get out of bed when the door swung open. You were about to reach for your gun on the nightstand when you saw it was just Takeshi, and he looked rather amused.

“You're awake.” He raised his eyebrows at you in surprise, expecting you to be passed out after the night you had, partly his doing. You looked at him with suspicion as he walked to the bed. ��I have something for you.”

“Is it a decapitated head?” You blinked at him, feigning innocence and he chuckled.

“No. Well I didn't bring it here anyway.” He shrugged as he handed you a red and blue switchblade. It looked kind of cool. You stared at it for a good few seconds before you looked up at him with confusion.

“What's this?”

“The owner of this.” He pointed at the brand new scar on your side. Your eyes widened with realization and your mouth fell open.

“Takeshi—”

“I don't want to hear you.” He cut you off before you could even yell at him for not letting it go. You frowned at him deeply. He sighed as he sat beside you. “They had it coming. They touched you. It's that simple.”

You stared at him, and you wanted to force yourself to be angry at him, angry at him for not letting it go, angry at him for treating you like some damsel in distress who needed him to save her. But when you looked into his eyes you didn't see the hero's complex. Not at all. You saw a man who was looking at the only thing that mattered to him in this world. And he'd be damned if he ever let anyone take that away from him again.

“Awe, baby, so you aren't so heartless after all.” Your smile was mocking on the outside, but deep down it was one of endearment.

“Fuck you.”

You loved him. And even someone as heartless as him was capable of love, too.

#takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs smut #takeshi kovacs x fem reader #takeshi kovacs x f!reader #takeshi kovacs #altered carbon #joel kinnaman

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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year

Text

Come Back…Be Here

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: you and Tom have qualms about your first kiss happening in front of a camera, so you do something about it

Masterlist

“Cut. Everybody take lunch. When we come back, we’ll start with scene 24 B.”

“24 B? Isn’t that the…” You trailed off and looked over at Tom, who was really looking at you with wide eyes.

“Scene where you two kiss? Yep. Sebastian and I already got our seats ready to watch.” Anthony Mackie said as he wrapped an arm around you and Tom and pulled your heads together.

“Oh my God.” You groaned as Tom burned a bright red.

“He’s in our trailer making popcorn right now, but he wanted me to give you these.” Anthony went into his pockets and took out two tubes of chapstick.

“Chapstick? Seriously?” You gave him an unamused look. Tom, on the other hand, took a tube and put it in his pocket for later.

“Seriously.” Anthony nodded. “This is the big kiss in the movie, guys. It’s your characters highly anticipated reunion that the audience has to wait the entire movie to see. Don’t you want it to be good? And cherry flavored?”

“No one’s gonna care about the flavor of our chapstick.” You rolled your eyes.

“You’re right. All they’re gonna care about is how good the kiss is. This kiss is gonna be rewatched for decades to come. Not to put pressure on you guys or anything, but this is the one kiss in this historic movie. It’s gotta be special. People have waited their whole lives to see this movie. On the night it opens, everyone and their mom is gonna be seated with wide, unblinking eyes, ready to watch it. And this kiss has the potential to go down in history as one of the best on screen kisses in movie history. You know, unless you two fuck it up and it ends up going down as one of the most awkward on screen kisses. It’s really up to you guys. No pressure.” Anthony smirked snd patted both your backs.

“Right.” Tom gulped. “No pressure.”

“You’re so immature. We’re gonna be fine. We’re adults. We know how to kiss.” You insisted, making Tom blush again.

“But do you know how to kiss each other?” Anthony asked, making you pause to think. You and Tom exchanged awkward looks before looking away.

“Yeah.” You said without confidence.

“How hard can it be?” Tom laughed nervously.

“I don’t know. What if you noses smush together? What if you both lean the same way? What if you guys finally kiss and realize there is 0 chemistry between you?” Anthony gasped as he planted ideas in your head.

“Shut up, Mackie.” You groaned. “Why don’t you kiss deez nuts if you’re so worried about it?”

“Just think about it, guys. A little chapstick can’t hurt.” He shrugged before walking away. You and Tom stood in awkward silence for a minute as Anthony’s word hung over you.

“You know what? Who cares what he says?” You shrugged. “Let’s go eat something before we have to film the…”

“Kiss?” Tom blushed and finished your sentence for you when you couldn’t.

“Yeah. That.”

“Cool. Let’s go.” He held out his arm and you linked yours through it before waking off set.

A few minutes later, you and Tom were in your trailer while eating lunch and talking about everything but the scene. You avoided bringing it up for as long as you could but when an always silence feel between you, it had to be said.

“It’s gonna be so weird kissing in front of everyone. I can already hear the comments Mackie is gonna make.” You said without looking at him.

“I know. A bunch of dudes behind cameras and the entire Marvel cast watching is not how I imagined our first kiss would be.” Tom sighed in agreement.

“Oh. So you’ve imagined our first kiss?” You smiled coyly and raised your eyebrows at him.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Tom blushed and looked away from you.

“It’s okay. I have too.”

“You have?” He perked up when he heard this.

“Of course I have.” You shrugged like it was obvious. Maybe it should’ve been obvious, but it still made Tom smile to hear it.

“Well what did you imagine?” He asked timidly. You smiled and held up a finger before brushing the hair off your shoulders.

“Okay. Here’s what I imagined.” You began. “We would be sitting on a couch, probably yours, and we’d be watching something that neither of us were really into but we were too far into it to turn it off. And since we weren’t really enjoying whatever was on the TV, we were talking over it and looking at it every now and then. And our conversation was much more entertaining than the TV, by the way. Then something on the TV would catch my eye and I’d watch it for a second. But instead of looking at the TV too, you’d look at me. And when I catch you looking at me, I ask what you’re looking at. And you get embarrassed and say nothing. So I push you a little and you admit that you were looking at me. And I ask why and you say you’re always looking at me. And I ask why again and you say “can’t help it”. Just like that. Can’t help it. With maybe a little shrug or embarrassed laugh. But I wouldn’t laugh. I’d stare at you for a while and then kiss you. Because that would be the only thing to do in that situation. And that would be our first kiss.”

Tom was silent for a long time after your speech. His mouth was dropped slightly as he stared at you in disbelief. The details told him you’d given this a lot of thought and imagined it hopefully quite a lot. You didn’t know his stunned silence was a good thing, so you tried to fill it.

“Can I explain?” You said quickly. “It’s just, you and I watch movies or shows together a lot. So I kinda wrote a script in my head of a moment that could potentially happen between us. But then I knew that would never happen because I had just imagined it and it would be impossible for my imagination to come true. I don’t know. I do that sometimes. I do it a lot, actually. I know it’s really weird, but I can’t help but write scenes in my head about my real life and how it may play out.”

Tom was silent again as you confessed something you had never told anyone before. He didn’t mean to keep quiet, he was just too deep into his own thoughts that he couldn’t form a word.

“Please say something.” You said after another beat of silence passed.

“I thought I’d kiss you before a premier.” Tom said suddenly. “When you’re in a pretty dress and I’m feeling confident because someone else picked out my clothes. And I’d tell you you were beautiful and then kiss you because I…”

“Because why?” You asked when he trailed off.

“Couldn’t help it.” Tom shrugged and gave an embarrassed laugh. It was your time to be speechless as Tom said the exact right thing. You smiled softly and stared into his brown eyes, seeing something new this time.

“Well it seems we had very different ideas of how our first kiss would be.” You said with a a coy smile.

“It seems we did.” He laughed softly and stared into your eyes. You were both taking one second glances at the others lips but neither of you dared to make the first move.

“I guess now we’ll never know which one of us was right. Or if neither of us were.” Tom said to fill the silence.

“I know. I don’t know why, it it kinda makes me sad. I wish we had more time to know what it would’ve been like before we had to film this scene. I wish it could’ve happened as us, not as our characters, you know?”

“I definitely know.”

“It almost makes me think…” You trailed off as you looked away from him in embarrassment.

“That we should kiss now?” Tom filled in your sentence for you. You looked at him in surprise and his eyes widened.

“I’m sorry. I totally jumped the gun, didn’t I?That’s probably not even what you were gonna say. I assumed and I made things awkward and now you’re probably thinking-“

Tom’s words stopped in his throat when he found himself being pulled into a kiss. You had one hand behind his neck and the other on his cheek as you kissed him. It wasn’t like either of you imagined, but how could it be? Whatever Tom thought he’d feel when he finally got to kiss you was nothing compared to the butterflies erupting inside his system. And it was perfect. Your noses didn’t smush together, you didn’t lean the same way, and the chemistry was evident in the buzzing you felt in your lips as you kissed him. All the pressure melted away and allowed you to be yourselves, alone in your trailer, having your first kiss. Tom cupped your face and kissed you back for as long as you let him. You only broke apart when you heard a pounding on your door followed by,

“Are you both in there? They’re looking for you in costuming.” One of the PA’s voices came from outside your trailer door. You and Tom looked at each other for a moment, both wishing you could stay in this moment just a little longer. But when they knocked on the door again, you got up.

“I’ll see you on set?” You smiled politely before wiping your lips.

“Y-yeah. See you then.” Tom stammered as his face burned.

You and Tom were separated when you were sent to get your costumes on. You watched to catch him before going to the makeup trailer, but he was already gone. He looked for you after getting his hair touched up, but you’d already been taken to set.

Finally, you were reunited on the set when it came time to film the kiss scene. It wasn’t the reunion you were hoping for since there was a camera between you and about a dozen crew members. And sitting with teasing grins right behind the camera crew was Anthony and Sebastian with a bowl of popcorn between them. If you hadn’t already kissed Tom, this might’ve bothered you. But you didn’t pay them any mind and only looked at Tom.

You and Tom snuck glances at each other as the director went over the blocking for the scene but weren’t able to exchange many words. Finally, “action” was called and you filmed the scene. You said your lines, punched a few invisible aliens, and ended it all with a kiss. It was different this time since the setting wasn’t the same, but it felt just as right. You had a moment to look in each others eyes afterwards before being told to take it from the top. You were so focused on each other that the comments and cheers from Anthony and Sebastian didn’t even reach your ears.

You both felt like you were rushing through your lines just to get to the kiss but it ended up working in your favor because the director had you do the scene over and over again until you slowed it down.

“All right. Great work guys. That’s a wrap.” The director called out.

“A wrap? Are you sure you don’t need any other take?” Tom asked, just looking for another chance to kiss you.

“Nope. We definitely got it.”

“Shouldn’t we do one more for safety?” You chimed in, making Tom smile to know you were on the same page.

“I know you’re a perfectionist but trust me, we got the shot. You guys looked great. It was super convincing. It really looked like you guys have been waiting ages to kiss each other.”

“What? That’s crazy.” You laughed awkwardly and looked everywhere but Tom.

“So…one more take?” Tom asked, ignoring everything the director said.

“Come on.” You laughed and linked your arm through his to walk off set together.

When you reached the end of the set right before the pavement that led to the the trailers, Tom froze.

“What’s wrong?” You wondered.

“I don’t want to leave this spot.”

“Why not?”

“Because then it’s over. If I walk off this set, I’m not Peter anymore. And if I’m not Peter, I can’t…”

“Kiss me?” You laughed shyly when he trailed off.

“Well since you asked so nicely.” Tom smirked and went in to kiss you. You laughed and pushed him away but secretly would’ve let it happen. You stayed in that moment for just a second before being interrupted by the one and only.

“There’s the happy couple. You do know the cameras are off now, right Tom? That means no more kissing.” Anthony teased as he wrapped his arms around the both of you again.

“I know that. I just wanted to make sure Y/n knew that.” Tom quickly lied.

“Uh huh.” Anthony said sarcastically. “Well, all jokes aside, you guys did a great job. The chemistry was great. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you guys were in love.”

“Hahaha. What?” Tom forced a laugh that went in for much too long.

“In love. Imagine that.” You forced a laugh as well and avoided all eye contact. Anthony felt like he had succeeded in his mission to tease the two of you and walked away feeling satisfied. You and Tom stood in silence for a minute, both unsure of what to do next.

“Well, I guess I should probably go return my costume.” You said and nodded towards the costuming trailer.

“Yeah. Me too. I should probably go and do that.” He agreed but made no effort to move.

“Right. What are you gonna do after that?” You asked without looking at him.

“Probably eat, shower, and then go to sleep.” He shrugged. You nodded your head and he couldn’t help but notice you looked a little disappointed.

“Yeah. I’ll probably do the same.” You replied. Tom wondered if he had just missed an opportunity to continue to moment by asking you to eat with him. Before he could fix his mistake, you spoke up.

“I guess I’ll see you later then.” You said with a right smile.

“Yeah. You too.” He said quietly, realizing now that he had let the moment slip from him. You waved to him before walking away and all he could do was watch.

That night, you had trouble falling asleep with everything that was on your mind. You tossed and turned for what felt like hours but when you checked your phone, it had only been 20 mins. You stared up at your ceiling for a minute before letting out a sigh. You knew there was no chance of you going to sleep, so you decided to go see Tom. You got out of your bed and went to open your trailer door. When you opened it up, Tom was standing outside of it with his hand raised as if he was about to knock on your door. He put his hand down and smiled shyly.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” You smiled. “You couldn’t sleep either?”

“No. Too much on my mind.” He said without every taking his eyes off you.

“Same here.” You replied. You stared into each other eyes for a minute, both having so much to say but no idea how to string it into words.

“Tom?” You said finally.

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna stay in here tonight?” Was all you had to say. Tom immediately stepped into your trailer as he wrapped an arm around your waist. His hands moved up and down your back as he kissed you. You moved backwards together until you fell onto your bed.

“Is this gonna ruin our friendship?” You pulled away to whisper against his lips.

“I hope so.” He laughed and kissed you again.

“I’m serious. Are things ever gonna be able to go back to the way they were?” You asked nervously as you traced patterns on his cheek with your fingernail.

“Do you want them too?” Tom asked with a little disappointment in his voice.

“No.” You shook your head.

“Well good. Me either.” Tom’s lips tugged into a smile before pecking your lips again.

“But what’s gonna happen? We wrap filming in a few days and then we go off to different countries. Who knows when we’ll see each other next?” You frowned and sat back a little as the reality set in. But Tom was determined not to let the moment end. He pulled you into a long kiss and then held your face in his hands.

“I don’t know what happens next.” He admitted. “I don’t even know what happening right now. But I know what I feel. And this feels right.”

And that was all you needed to hear.

A few days later after wrapping on the movie, you drove Tom to the airport for his flight back to London. You walked him as far as you could before saying your goodbyes. You hugged in silence for what felt like hours before he pulled you into a long kiss. You tried to send him on his way, but he pulled you right back into a kiss. He did this a few more times as his flight was called over the loud speaker.

“Okay. That’s the last kiss. You’re gonna miss your flight.” You said once you pulled away.

“One more.” He insisted and cupped your face to kiss you again.

“No more. You need to get onto your plane.” You laughed as he peppered kissed all over your face.

“Okay. Fine.” He playfully rolled his eyes and started to walk away. He walked right back after just a second with a smile on his face.

“Can I have a kiss goodbye?” He asked, making you laugh.

“Tom.” You said pointedly.

“Please?” He whined. “I’m not gonna see you for a month. I need to stock up.”

You couldn’t help but smile and held his hands as you kissed him again.

“Okay. That was the last kiss. For real this time.” You told him.

“Uh uh.” He pulled you back by the hand and kissed you again.

“Tom.” You whined. “As much as I don’t want you to go, I can’t have you miss your flight because of me. Get on your plane.”

“I can’t. I can’t walk away from this yet.” He said, and suddenly, you stopped caring about his flight. You allowed yourself to be selfish and admit you didn’t want him to go.

“I know the feeling.” You said as you stared into his eyes. Tom looked into your for a minute before putting one hand on your face and pulling you into one last, slow, soft, kiss. You didn’t try to push him away this time and let him kiss you for as long as he needed. When he pulled away, he held both your hands and rested his forehead against yours.

“I’ll go. But I need to tell you something first.”

“I need to tell you something too.” You told him as nervous butterflies filled your chest.

“Should we say it at the same time?” He smiled softly.

“Okay. Yeah. Let’s do that.” You nodded and prepared yourself.

“Ready?” He asked you.

“Uh huh. Go.”

“I really like you.” He said at the same time that you said, “I love you.”

You froze for a minute when you realized you’d said too much, but he immediately broke into a smile and laughed.

“Oh thank God. I was totally lying before. I downplayed it in case you didn’t feel the same. I’m in love with you too.” Tom told you.

“You are? You’re in love with me?” You smiled in surprise. He nodded his head and shrugged a little.

“Can’t help it.”

Tag List 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl

@jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild

@canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah

@seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x you

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cynthia39100 · 2 months

Text

Merlin rewatch -- S1E13: Le Morte d'Arthur

goodbye scene

Merlin’s little face when Arthur said " I owe it (my life) all to Gaius." ...

I think Merlin was a bit sad that Arthur still didn’t know what he did and was about to do for him. Unlike at the beginning of the season when he just wanted recognition, here he regretted more that he wouldn't have the chance to show Arthur all of himself.

" I sometimes wonder if you know who I am." " I know who you are. You’re a prat. And a royal one"

Love love love their soft smiles after Merlin's words. Not the prickly (and playful) rivalry in ep1 anymore. They were two friends remembering old times. They were both so comfortable in this familiar back and force that Arthur could put down his pretence and show his fondness.

" I’m happy to be your servant till the day I die." " Sometimes I think I know you, Merlin. Other times..."

The most beautiful line in the episode. Merlin changed so much from the child in the first few episodes who complained about being a servant and not being recognized. Arthur's expression of utter confusion was beautiful as well.

" just... don't be a prat"

I love that Arthur didn’t have his typical defensive reaction to Merlin's final words, not even a dumbfounded pause like the previous “you’re a prat” comment. He didn't say anything, his face didn’t change a bit. Merlin got all teary eyes and Arthur could only squint his eyes trying to work out what happened.

Arthur's consistent confusion was so important for this entire scene. There was always a part of Merlin that Arthur didn't know, that Merlin concealed from him, no matter how close they had become. Merlin knew Arthur explicitly but never the other way around. Arthur couldn't even know that Merlin was saying goodbye. And isn't that the saddest thing?

<- Prev [other episodes]

#rewatch: le morte d'arthur #merlin rewatch 2024 #bbc merlin #arthur and merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin #bradley james #colin morgan

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pablitogavii · 10 months

Note

Could you do one where gavi talks about y/n on the new season of barca a new era?

Su inspiración

You were cuddled up to Pablo watching the first episode of the new season of the Barça Documentary you were so excited about.

"Es tan cursi amor!" he whined but you sushed him wanting to hear every word especially the scenes you saw his happy face.

You knew Pablo wasn't big on "fame" but you were so proud of him and wanted to rewatch all his scenes over and over again. You didn't expect him mentioning you, so when he did in one of the scenes you felt your cheeks blushing bright red.

In the movie:

"Bueno, Gavi. Who would you say inspires you the most to improve every day?" interviewer asked Pablo who was smiling in the camera.

"Bueno, obviously all the people I work with daily are important but one person that inspires me to remain focused and patient with my progress is my girlfriend. I would come home exhausted after a bad game or training session and she would always remind me to remain focused on improving" he explained with a blushed cheek.

"It's so important to have that support system at home, isn't it?" was another question which made Pablo smile while nodding his head.

"She's really always there when I need her that sometimes I fell like a bother. But if she heard me say that now, she would hit my head and tell me to shut up" Pablo said laughing with the interviewer while at the same time you were giggling in his arms.

"There were a few moments of you dedicating your goals to her? Is that your way of saying thank you?" came another question

"All my goals are dedicated to her and she knows that. I say thank you by treating her right and showing her love but goals are a bonus as well" he giggled at the last part thinking about your at those stands in his jersey. It always made his heart melt.

"I'm sure she appreciates it. Thank you Gavi!" the lady said and they moved on to interviewing another player. The same moment you paused the show turning around in Pablo's arms.

"Have I told you how special you are amor?" you ask and he smiled nodding his head and leaning closer until you finally kissed his lips lovingly.

"So are you princesa. I couldn't do it all without you in my corner" he said and you smiled nodding your head while leaving a few kisses all over his handsome face.

"I'll always be in your corner amorcito" you say after a few moments of showering him in kisses and he smiles brightly kissing your forehead.

"I might have mentioned you a few times this season.." he says and your eyes open before you quickly clicked resume impatient to see all of those scenes now!!

Another scene was Pablo in the training session playing around with his teammates before scoring an amazing goal.

"Who's this for chaval!?" Araujo "fake interviewed" him and Pablo winked into the camera touching his heart.

"Para mi amor!!!" he said before the boys chuckled joining beck the training session and you blushed bright red hearing Pablo's teasing chuckle.

Another one came when boys were in the dressing room after the game and they hid Pablo's phone making him run after each other in frustration.

"So he always face times his girl after a win and now he's frustrated that he can't.." Ferran said to camera before Pablo ran after him angrily.

"Give me back my phone cabrón!" was heart at the end of the scene and you both laughed.

And the last one was when Pablo showed his lock screen to the camera after they won la liga trophy sending a big kiss. The photo on his phone is below :)

"You really did mention me a lot amorcito.." you say after finishing the entire season in one sitting and he giggled nodding his head and kissing your lips.

"Porque te amo princesita.." he said and you blushed kissing him again deeper while slowly straddling his lap and his hands held your hips strongly.

"Tabien te amo" you say and he smirks nodding his head stnading up with you in his arms carrying you towards the bedroom ;))

#pablo gavi x you #fc barca #fc barcelona #fc barça #gavi #gavigif #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #pablogavixreadersmut #pablogavixreaderfluff #gavi x vini #gavi x yn #gavi x you #gavi x reader #gavira #pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavira

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okay-j-hannah · 1 year

Text

Hear My Words

Doctor Who : Fic

Tenth Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 2352

Warnings: I’ve had to rewatch Doctor Who to get back into writing for the characters and... of course I’m swooning left and right. I need to watch everything David Tennant now 🤦‍♀️

Request: “Hi! I wanted to request a fluff hurt/comfort John smith/10th doctor? Like the reader has a crush on the doctor, and during the events of Human Nature, they get really sad seeing John fall in love with Joan, but when he’s the doctor again, he tells the reader it’s always been them? Thank you and hope you’re doing good!” Anon

A/N: Using the chameleon arch meant putting you in charge of John Smith, but it also meant the Doctor was free to fall in love much to your dismay

The tardis was quaking beneath their feet, parts exploding in showers of sparks. Fireworks of brilliant gold and fiery orange cascading until burning out against the grated floor. The erratic flying sent the Doctor and (Y/N) tumbling against the railing.

“Did they see your face?” the Doctor yelled over the steaming console.

“No, I don’t think so,” (Y/N) said frantically, “Doctor, what are we going to do?”

He paused his searching to look at her. Between the smoke and the sparks, she looked frightened – really properly scared. And it broke his hearts. He wanted to take her by the hand and whisper sweet words of endearment and comfort. He wanted to let her know that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

His fingers itched to reach for her. His legs begged to run for her. His hearts pleaded to embrace her.

But he couldn’t. Not when he’d played the façade so well.

She had no idea that he was completely smitten by her.

��We’re going to have to disappear,” he finally breathed. Yes – disappear. If he could conceal them from the hunting party then no harm would befall her.

“Alright,” she said shakily, though relief painted her tone. There was always relief when the Doctor had a plan. “How are we going to do that?”

His hands clenched, “I’ve got to stop being a Time Lord.” His eyes flickered up and down her frame before pouncing to the console. He frantically continued his search for an object.

“I’m sorry, what?” (Y/N) cried, “How is that possible?” Her heart was in her throat, “Doctor, you’re frightening me.”

He clutched at a silver fob watch, running for her. “I’m going to rewrite my biology. Can’t do the same to you, I’m afraid. You’ll have to improvise.” He tossed the watch into the air, catching it to gain her attention. “Rewriting means my memories too. You’ll have to be in charge.”

“I don’t understand.”

He cursed himself – urged himself to speak slower. “I have to completely conceal myself. To do that I’ll have to become something else. I’ll have to become human. And I’ll need you to look after me.”

His arms felt warm and heavy as he kept them from holding her. In times of panic, when the adrenaline was high, it was always harder to keep his wants under control.

“I don’t…”

“I need you to take care, (Y/N). Can you ensure that I don’t open this watch until the most dire of circumstances? Can you make sure that I believe myself human until we can escape?”

Her eyes were beginning to water at the sight of his begging.

“Doctor…” she breathed, “I…”

~~~

John shot up in bed, gripping his blankets and chasing the last images of the dream. Of the angelic look on the girl’s face.

He rubbed at his eyes, “Gracious…” he sighed. “I’m getting that one more often than I like.” Of the catalogue of dreams that plagued him at night, the one about the kitchen maid became more and more frequent.

And it always left him with a race in his chest.

He would spend the morning teaching his classes and reading his books and seeking a glance of Nurse Redfern. But by the end of the day he sought a glimpse of the kitchen maid, (Y/N). He yearned for a bit of conversation with her – a much needed reprieve on his ever consumed mind.

His head always felt stuffed, as if a dense volume of water filled his cranium to the brim until the pressure was too much. It somehow felt lighter after an evening with Miss. (Y/N).

He found his wandering footsteps descending the stairs to the kitchens, running into a few flustered maids.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Pardon me, sir – are you lost?”

He’d wave them off, “No, I assure you I know where I’m going. Good evening.” The stone corridors became second nature as he found the staff room beside the bustling kitchen preparing dinner.

“Ah, excuse me,” he’d gesture to a lady’s maid, “Where might I find… oh, there she is, never mind.” And the sight of (Y/N) made his heart tug in a way that felt overwhelming, as if it tried to consume his entire chest.

“Sir,” she muttered, sounding surprised even if her eyes spoke otherwise. John always found his way downstairs at the end of the day, “Do you wish to have your dinner in your quarters? I could bring it up personally.”

“Lovely idea,” he said, “But I would rather enjoy a meal here with you, if you were agreeable.”

She urged the warmth from her cheeks, “That’s rather improper, sir.”

He shrugged, “I’ve found my quarters rather suffocating as of late.”

“Very well, sir,” she curtseyed, “You can find yourself comfortable in the staffing quarters and I’ll be there momentarily with supper.”

(Y/N) scurried to the kitchens with a squirming stomach, always worried that the reason John sought her out was because he finally remembered who he was – that he was becoming himself again. But as always he just took comfort in her familiarity.

There was something about her, he would say, that would put him at ease. As if they were companions in another life.

But she knew their coming conversation would be of dreams and fantastical stories and the possible future with other staff members. Inevitably they would dwell on the topic of Nurse Redfern.

And it would hurt her to encourage him to speak with the nurse, to befriend her and see what would grow.

“Here you are, sir,” she said, placing a delectable dish in front of him. She personally chose his favorites from the serving platters about to be sent up. “Will there be anything else?”

He snapped his head towards her, “Surely you’ll stay. Please, sit beside me.”

She held back a retort, already hearing the gossip jumping between her coworkers. “If it please you, sir.”

“It always has, (Y/N). I want to speak with you about an interesting dream I had last night.”

She nodded, retrieving her meager servants stew and sitting beside him. “I figured as much.”

“What do you mean?” He was amused.

“Just that you normally come knocking when you’ve had a funny dream or some peculiar thought.”

“Well, you’re right.” He forked around his supper, “I dreamt that we were on another one of those adventures.”

(Y/N) kept her eyes down, pondering her stew. She wondered what memory was forcing its way to the surface of his mind.

“You were so terribly frightened about something chasing us,” he chuckled, “And I told you I had to become a human to hide us.”

She stilled for all but a moment, containing the inflection in her voice, “I hadn’t realized you weren’t human in these adventures.”

“Neither had I,” he laughed, eyeing her simple supper. “Would you care for a bit of mine?” He gestured to the seasoned chicken and roasted vegetables and rich sauce.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but chortle, “Sir, there are rules between kitchen maids and professors.”

“Rules about a bit of chicken?”

She gave him a look, “Are you like this with any of the other staff? Do you blur the lines with them too?”

He cleared his throat, using a teacup saucer to give her a portion of his meal, “You cooked it, you should be able to eat it too.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, “But that didn’t answer my question.”

John swallowed a mouthful, “Has she asked about me at all?”

(Y/N) burned her tongue on the stew. She knew he was going to say Nurse Redfern, but it didn’t make hearing it any better.

“Once or twice.”

“And?” he pressed, abandoning his knife and fork.

She shrugged, “Joan’s always been cautious of her feelings. She keeps asking if you talk about her at all. I suppose because she wants to know if you’re interested before she makes a move.”

“And what have you told her?” he asked, leaning forward, wide eyed at her words.

“That she should go with her instincts,” (Y/N) said quietly, “That she should stop doubting herself.”

John positively beamed, “Oh, now that’s brilliant.” He fell back in his chair, grinning, “Well done with the spy work.”

(Y/N) felt her stomach squirm again, pushing her food around. She couldn’t help but feel special that John sought her out for company – hopeful that it was because his human self took an interest in her unlike the Time Lord version. But he still couldn’t fathom a future with her, fake life or not.

It made her queasy.

“Are you alright?” he asked, digging into his food once more.

“Fine,” she said warily, “Just fine.”

~~~

It was later in the evening, an hour past the usual time for dinner, and (Y/N) was ascending the staircase towards the professor quarters.

There was a request from John Smith: a bowl of soup and crackers. There was a report of an upset stomach and slight fever, meaning he would take supper in his room.

He asked that she deliver it personally and it was almost hilarious when she told the lady’s maid that the assistant cook was to leave the kitchens.

It was foreign walking the halls of the school, but she felt a thrill of excitement at seeing John again. As always she couldn’t help but hope he wanted to see her because he finally realized he liked her.

And as always she was disappointed beyond belief.

She knocked on his door and nudged it open with her hip, tray of soup in hand. She was able to catch the last second of Nurse Redfern kissing John’s forehead.

Of course Joan was there. John was sick.

“Oh, goodness,” Joan gasped, “The kitchen maid.”

“(Y/N),” John said warmly, flushed at having been caught in an intimate moment. “You’ve brought my supper.”

(Y/N) bowed her head, refusing to look at him, and she hurried to place the tray on his side table. She could see Joan holding her stethoscope tersely from the corner of her eye.

In a small voice (Y/N) asked, “Might I inquire after the patient?”

“He’ll be alright,” Joan replied, “Just a tinge of the flu.”

John smiled, “I’ll be right as rain in the morning.” He spotted the way she refused to look at him. “Thank you, for answering my call.”

“Always,” she said instantly. “I’ll always answer.”

She stood there rather awkwardly for another minute, Joan clearing her throat to excuse the silence.

“That’ll be all,” the nurse said.

(Y/N) curtseyed, scrambling to get out, “Of course, sorry. If there’s anything else…”

“Thank you,” John said again, his voice quieter.

She didn’t dare look at him to see if his face matched the sweet sound of the thank you. She instead ran to the nearest stairwell and found refuge in the staff quarters.

She felt the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver in her pocket, a little reminder of the mission at hand. A small part of her chest began to hurt as she clutched the short piece of metal. It grounded her with thoughts of distant planets and endangered people. Of quick breaths stuck between a tight space.

It was easy to fend off her affections when the Doctor was too busy to look on anyone else. But with the steady pace of a human life, he was falling for another. And that realization pained her like nothing else.

She could only wish the three months went by quickly.

~~~

The Doctor stood outside the tardis, framed by the grey hills of 1913 England. The wind was whipping his coat about, sending his hair into a frenzy.

It was so him, it was making her sigh with relief.

“Hello there,” (Y/N) said, climbing the hill, “Feeling more like yourself?”

“Yes, well…” he shook one of his legs, “The right foot still feels a bit like John Smith. But the rest of me is one hundred percent the Doctor.”

(Y/N) laughed, looking at him fondly, “You sound like yourself again.”

He returned the soft look, “Thank you – for taking care of me.”

She cleared her throat, “You’re welcome.” But there was another unspoken question on the tip of her tongue. She didn’t want to sound too curious but she whispered, “How was Joan?”

“Fine,” he answered immediately, “She’ll be alright.”

“Right,” (Y/N) said, “I’m sure it couldn’t have been easy to… to say goodbye. You were so fond of each other.”

“John was,” the Doctor said, “And he is a part of me. So by proxy I suppose I am somewhat fond of her.”

(Y/N) nodded to herself, taking a step towards the tardis door, but the Doctor blocked her way.

“But a life with her isn’t possible,” he said softly. “It’s not a life I want.” He so desperately wanted her to look up at him. The way she avoided his gaze was sending that familiar ache through his chest.

He hadn’t realized that his human self would pursue another woman. He could imagine how difficult that must’ve been for her to witness – encourage even.

“That was a fake life, (Y/N),” he urged her to hear his words, “The life I have now, with you, is what I want.”

She tilted her head up towards him. “That’s kind of you to say, Doctor, but you don’t have…”

“No, you’re not hearing me,” he said, taking her hand. “I love my life because of you. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. You are who I’m fond of. You are who I trust. It’s always been you, (Y/N). Long before this adventure.”

She still had disbelief in her eyes but a smile was growing on her face, “Really?”

He laughed, “Quite a pair, aren’t we?”

“I adore it,” she laughed along, “All of it.” She clutched at his hand, “I love you too.”

“Now,” he kissed her knuckles, “I don’t believe I said love.”

“Yeah you did,” she mused, leaning into him, craning her neck to reach.

He eyed her lips, speaking in that quick, eccentric way, “Yeah, well… let me say it with less words then.” And he kissed her against the tardis.

~~~

Masterlist

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thoughtfulchaos773 · 11 months

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2x09 table scene

Okay so...it's a slow season at work, which means more rewatches and you guys dealing with my frequent posts.

I have yet to really talk about the table scene.

Carmy was definitely making love to Sydney emotionally and mentally under this table. He got her to open up and tore down the barriers she put up. It was a full-on courtship we were watching and you can tell by the looks he was giving her how he truly feels about Syd.

"I'm sure she's great"

"She is.."

There was this moment when Carmy said Claire was great, Syd asks, "Yeah?" and there's this pause Syd holds a breath and Carmy is no longer focused on his side of the table but his eyes are on Syd, holding her gaze.

After this Claire is no longer mentioned in this conversation and the focus is on Syd.

Now I think unconsciously Carmy was talking about the woman in front of him scaring the shit of him because of how great Syd is. Because he says his girl that's a friend is great but later on, he's telling Syd how she makes him better, how he couldn't do this without her...

When he asked Syd what she was afraid of, I couldn't get over how gentle that was. As always, with Syd- he could stop focusing and internalizing things within and could focus on someone else, and it felt easy. It was a give and take.

Also, Carmy did such a great job being there for Syd in this scene. I know we should be mad at Carmy for leaving Syd. But he opened up first, then Syd opened up, and he took it from there and gave her the space to be vulnerable.

"I won't let you." We had 3 moments where he confirmed he wouldn't let Syd fail- the first was saying "I won't let you," The headshake, and the "I got that thing I wanna give you.". So even when he reassured Syd during the table fix, he still took more time affirming to her he wouldn't let her fail by giving her the jacket.

I think someone mentioned the "You're not alone" moment, it's like he took an inhale in before he gave her a nod. I swear this was when Carmy was really falling for Syd.

JAWS you gotta stop or keep giving us unconscious communication if you don't mean it.

#charged and sexy #def charged and sexy #the bear fx #the bear #sydney adamu #carmy x sydney #carmen berzatto #sydcarmy #carmy berzatto #chefs kiss #sydney x carmy #the bear spoilers #thoughtful chaos posts

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gwnwrites · 1 year

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Losing | Oliver Wood x GN!Reader

Summary: Gryffindor loses the match against Hufflepuff.

Words: 1,8k

Warnings: None, just fluff. + Angst if you squint.

A/n: I rewatched Prisoner of Azkaban a few days ago, and suddenly became inspired to write. No use of y/n. Reader doesn’t have a specific gender. No specific Hogwarts House. Although, reader is supporting Gryffindor during the Quidditch match. Oliver and the reader are close friends. I might write a part two where they confess their feelings.

PS: I believe ‘Mo ghràdh’ means my love in Scottish Gaelic. Please correct me if I’m wrong!

This is based off the following conversation in the book:

“Where is Wood?” said Harry, suddenly realising he wasn’t there.

“Still in the showers,” said Fred. “We think he’s trying to drown himself.”

—

Oliver was nervous before the Quidditch match. He usually was. So after years of being friends with him, you knew all of his tells.

The first one was pacing.

The second one was running his hands through his hair.

The third one was rambling, which resulted in your extensive knowledge of Quidditch.

Oliver was usually consistent with his tells. However, today was different.

Oliver was oddly silent as the two of you sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He rarely looked up at you, and when he did, it was because you weren’t looking directly at him.

You weren’t the only one who noticed Oliver’s strange behaviour. Throughout breakfast, a few students sent worried looks toward Gryffindor’s Quidditch captain.

“Oliver,” you said. He looked up from his untouched porridge. He noticed that your bowl was empty.

“Are you okay? You seem awfully quiet today.” You paused, “Is it because I asked you last week to stop talking about Quidditch? I didn’t mean it. I was only trying to finish my Herbology essay.”

“It’s not that,” he sighed. His gaze traveled up to the ceiling, which mimicked the stormy weather outside. After a moment, he looked back at you.

“It’s Gryffindor’s last chance to win the Quidditch cup while I’m still at Hogwarts. I’ll never have another chance.”

Oliver had always wanted to win the Quidditch cup. And ever since he became the captain in fourth year, he had been working harder than ever. Practices took place regularly during the school year, and during the summer, while everyone rested, Oliver spent his time devising Quidditch plays.

“Oliver,” you began, “you’re an amazing Quidditch player, and the best captain that Gryffindor has ever had. You’ve got an amazing team, and that’s because of your leadership.”

He smiled slightly. “Thanks.”

—

The rain. Of course, rain was not usually a problem during Quidditch matches. But with the fact that there were hundreds of Dementors roaming the school grounds, you knew ‘calm’ wouldn’t be the word to describe Oliver.

As you sat among other students in the Quidditch Stands, you hoped Oliver was ok. You wanted to stay in the Gryffindor team’s tent before the match began, but Madam Hooch said it was best not to distract the captain. Your eyebrows furrowed as you thought back. Why would you ‘distract’ him? You never-

“I’m sure he’s fine,” a voice beside you said. You jumped slightly, before realising it was Percy.

“You think?” You clung tightly to your jacket’s hood to prevent it from flapping around in the wind. You turned to the side to get a better look at Percy.

“He puts too much pressure on himself. And still, Gryffindor wins the matches. Harry’s great, he’ll get the snitch in no time.” His gaze remained on the field. He held onto the hood of his own jacket.

“I hope so. This weather is awful,” you said. You looked up at the sky. The dark clouds gave no indication of sunny weather any time soon. You looked at Percy. Despite the rain his glasses were dry. He must have used the Impervius charm, you thought.

“I thought you said you didn’t watch Quidditch matches,” you said.

“I don’t.”

—

The stands filled up with students as the minutes passed. You were beginning to wonder if the match was actually going to begin, but then you heard the commentator’s voice.

“Starting off the first Quidditch match of the season is Gryffindor against Hufflepuff,” Lee Jordan said into the microphone.

“I’m sure all of us are excited to see what happens today, especially after last year’s match was cancelled due to the Basilisk attacks. Although, I think- Oh, sorry, Professor. I’ll just stick to commenting on the current match.”

Specks of red walked onto the field. Six of them mounted their brooms and flew up. A few did tricks as they passed the stands. The crowd supporting Gryffindor began to cheer.

“Here they are!” Lee exclaimed. “Gryffindor flies onto the field. Gryffindor’s captain, Wood, must be feeling intense pressure, after all, this his last year at Hogwarts.”

“Someone really needs to take that microphone away from him,” Percy said.

The only remaining Gryffindor -who was Oliver- stood on the ground near the tent.

The other team emerged from the neighbouring tent. Like the Gryffindors, six of the Hufflepuff got onto their brooms. They flew toward their positions, while their captain walked toward Oliver.

“The opposing team, Hufflepuff, makes their way onto the field.” Lee said as the crowd supporting Hufflepuff burst into applause. “Their newest captain is Cedric Diggory.”

You watched closely as the cloaked Madam Hooch walked toward the captains. The box, containing the Quidditch balls, was already on the field. The captains quickly shook hands, and got onto their brooms. Oliver, being Gryffindor’s keeper, flew toward his goal post, and Cedric darted to the middle of the field. As the Hufflepuff seeker, his job was to look for the snitch.

Madam Hooch’s whistle was blown.

“The match begins!” Lee said. The crowd cheered louder.

—

As the match went on, the storm became worse, and eventually Lee’s commentary couldn’t be heard over the wind. You and Percy watched as the specks of red and yellow flew back and forth across the field, again and again.

The weather made it hard to tell who was who. When either of you thought you saw Oliver, the speck of red flew in the direction of the bludgers, meaning it was either Fred or George.

About 10 minutes into that game, you heard the whistle blow. The Gryffindor team huddled under an umbrella in one of the far corners of the field.

“Harry’s a good seeker, but I don’t think he’ll be able to see the snitch in this weather,” you said loudly so Percy would be able to hear.

Percy sighed, “I just hope he catches it soon, otherwise the match will continue all night.”

Soon after, Madam Hooch blew her whistle again, and the match resumed.

The crowd stood in the rain as they watched the match. A few lightning strikes were seen in the sky, causing some of the younger students to scream.

“I think Diggory’s spotted the snitch!” A Slytherin boy called out. He had been sitting a few seats to the right of you and Percy.

You looked for the Hufflepuff seeker, and eventually saw a yellow speck darting up into the sky. A red speck, who you suspected was Harry, followed him closely. They flew so high up that the crowd was unable to see them.

Chatter erupted among the crowd.

One of them became visible. Falling. Gryffindor’s seeker, Harry, had fallen off his broom and was plummeting toward the ground. You pushed past the people in the stands, and hurried to the stairs leading to the field. Percy followed close behind you. By the time you reached the bottom, Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team were gone.

“They must have already gone to the Hospital Wing,” he stated. You nodded, and rushed off in the direction of Hogwarts.

—

The corridor outside the Hospital Wing was crowded. Everyone was worried about Harry. A Ravenclaw prefect stood in the doorway.

“Madam Pomfrey says no one is to enter the Hospital Wing until she says so,” he grumbled. He didnt seem in a good mood. A few surrounding students mumbled, and left.

“The Gryffindor team is in there, aren’t they?” You asked, standing in front of him, and trying to peak inside.

“They are, but you’re-” he was interrupted. George appeared next to the prefect in the doorway.

“There you are.” He said, “Thought you’d arrive soon.”

You ignored his comment. Whatever it meant. “Is Harry ok? That fall was pretty high.”

George’s face was pale, he nodded. You let out a sigh of relief.

“Hufflepuff-” He hesitated, “They won the match.”

“How? Harry fell off his broom. There should be a rematch.” You frowned slightly.

He sighed, “Diggory caught the snitch before Harry fell. Hufflepuff won fair and square. Even Oliver says so.”

Oliver. You tried to look over George’s shoulder. “Can I talk to him? Is he in there with the team?”

“Oliver isn’t here. You don’t know where he is?”

You shook your head, “No. Where is he?”

—

You knocked on the boy’s changeroom door. George had told you that it was only occupied by Oliver, but you didn’t want to barge in.

“Oliver, can I come in?”

There was no answer, the only noise was the running water in a shower.

“Oliver.” You stood outside for a moment before sighing. You pushed the door open.

The boy’s shower room appeared to be empty. Then you saw Oliver’s bag and Quidditch broom on one of the benches against the right wall.

“Oliver?” You said, looking toward the showers.

“Mo ghràdh?”

You looked toward where his voice came from. He sat with his legs to his chest in one of the shower cubes. He was still wearing his Quidditch robes. The shower tap was turned on, and the water caused his clothes to cling to him.

You approached him, and turned off the shower tap as you stepped inside the shower. You sat beside him.

“I’m sorry,” you said. You knew how much this match meant to him.

He lifted his head, “How’d you know where I was?”

“I went to the Hospital Wing first. I thought you were there since the team was. George told me you were here.”

He nodded. He still hadn’t looked at you.

“Oliver, I know this is about the Cup,” you said, looking at him. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

He sighed, “It’s just- I’ve always wanted to win the Quidditch Cup. It’s been *years* since we have, and not while I’ve been apart of the team.”

“But this wasn’t the Quidditch Cup final, Oliver. This was the first match. Gryffindor still has a shot to win the Cup,” you said.

You paused, “You put too much pressure on yourself. Even Percy says so, and he rarely leaves the library.”

Oliver looked at you, raising his eyebrows. “Percy said that? When?”

“Right before the match started. We were already seated.”

“Is Harry alright?”

“He’ll be alright. The team’s with him.”

Oliver was silent for a moment. “George told you I’m trying to drown myself, didn’t he?”

“He did.”

He shook his head, a small smile on his face. “Of course he did.”

“You’re not?” You said, “Trying to drown yourself, I mean.”

He laughed softly. “No, I’m not. If I wanted to, I think I would’ve gone to the Black Lake.”

“You had the shower on.”

“I was cold. The shower was warm,” he said. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Being a good friend. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you want a part 2.

#oliver wood x reader #gwnwrites #oliver wood #oliver wood fluff #oliver wood angst

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in-act-ive · 11 months

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Okay so could you maybe write something were the reader and carl talk about their future together and just plan out everything in full Detail and like just fluff and more fluff with them beinge excited for it

Yeah sure! You're gonna make me cry Anon ( joking! )

Carl Grimes x NB/GN!reader

Request : yep!

Type : story

A / N : I hope this is what you wanted! I apologize for no w/c. I totally forgot to do it! This takes place before Glenn's death because i stopped paying attention after that ( I'm not as informed on anything after that! ) I also don't remember everything an I need to rewatch some parts so I apologize if its at all wrong!

★────────────★

Carl, Rick, Glenn, and yourself were out on a run. You ended up in a huge forest and even if Rick wouldn't admit it, you were probably lost. Glenn was at the back and Rick was at the front leaving you and Carl in the middle.

Carl was way too focused on his dad and what he was mumbling to himself so you decided to break the very awkward silence.

"So, Carl, what do you have planned for the future?" You asked, taking a small step to stand in front of him. You spun around slightly to face him. You didn't mind having to walk backwards. He hummed thoughtfully before speaking.

Carl looked slightly annoyed when he stepped in front of him, his grip on his gun tightening slightly. "Dunno." He shrugged

You gasped in offense at the comment. Carl rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh. Once the conversation starter failed your ears were filled with the sound of four sets of foot steps crunching the dead leaves, pine needles, and loose sticks below them, Rick's soft mumbling that seemed to just be nonsense, and Carl's heavy breathing. You sighed and fell back to Carl's side with angry huff.

You four sat in silence for the next half mile or so. The only real conversation was Glenn reassuring Rick that he knew what he was doing. And that he didn't need to worry.

You let your head fall back in anger at the silence. You looked up at the darkening sky and the sudden sound of Rick's voice made you jump and pull your gun up, your grip on it tightening.

"We should set up camp. You three look exhausted." Rick spoke firmly. When he watched you jump and move your gun he put his hand out to stop you. Carl put his hand over the barrel of your gun and softly pushed it down into a less threatening position.

'Setting up camp' was more of 'roll your sleeping bags out' cause Rick never let you carry a tent. You pulled your bag off and used the strap at the top to hang it on a low hanging branch. You pulled the sleeping bag out from its stop on your bag and you threw it out with a small noise.

You flopped on the thin fabric and sighed. Carl set his down beside you.

After Rick set up a fire and made you some ehat you assumed were beans he made his own food and went to bed. Glenn followed soon after leaving you and Carl up alone.

"Okay Carl, I'm not going to call you a liar--" You paused and tilted your head to the side to think about it. "Never mind I am going to call you a liar. You've got to have some plan for the future." You pushed. Carl looked at you kinda irritated before sighing.

"Tell me about your plans sense you're so invested." Carl commented. You didn't even take the time to consider that Carl had just avoided your question.

You thought for a moment. "Well! I wanna find love, obviously. Definitely get myself my own house of some sort. Get like my own sanctuary kinda thing!" You smiled happily as you explained.

Carl smiled, seeing you happy anf talk about something that made you so excited made him happy. You'd always brought a smile to the boys face no matter what you did. He thought of you as one of the few people who genuinely stayed happy in this whole mess.

Once you had finished talking he decided to give ideas. "Well... You could make a town of sorts. Find any animals, if there still are any, and raise them and such so food. Make it near a river so you can have water--" Carl was cut off by you speaking.

"You could help me run it!" Your eyes lit up. Carl looked at you confused for a moment. Not even knowing if he could deal with all that. He shook his head while smiling.

Carl finally looked up at you again before speaking, "I don't think so. I think you'd do much better without me." He spoke softly.

You were very offended. You pulled your head back in mock disgust before laughing softly. "I beg to differ!" You huffed at him.

You and Carl had always been attached at the hip. Even if he was a lot tougher than your more excited and happy self. You two rarely did anything without the other and you did not plan on changing that tradition, at all.

You'd been the one to calm Carl's constant need to be cool and show off to the adults. While on the other hand Carl was there to make sure you didn't let everyone push you around and to make sure you didn't fo anything too stupid.

Carl sighed at you and you sighed back, mocking him. He finally thought of what to say. "Y / N, as much as I'd love too you need to learn that you can live without me for five minutes." He looked very serious but his eyes were laces with something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"Shut up! You know you'd love to help." You crossed your arms across your chest in frustration.

Carl laughed and set his hand on your knee, something he often did to make you know he was there. Or when he was about to say something he knew would make you happy.

He looks at you, deadpan. "You know I would." A small smirk plays at the side of his lips. "What's your plan?" He watches as your face lights up.

You're practically screaming with excitement at that. He quickly has to put his hand over your mouth to ensure you don't wake Glenn and Rick up.

"Really?" Your voice was muffled through his hand. Carl nodded softly.

Carl pulled his hand away and wiped it on his pants. You roll your eyes but kept your mouth shut for the time being. Once you actually found the words you spoke excitedly while whisper screaming. "You actually wanna hear?" Your eyes were shining.

Carl couldn't help but laugh at yout excitement. "Yep, of course." He nodded, his voice seemed a lot smoother than usual. Clearly he was trying to calm your excitement.

You didn't even know where to start. You hadn't planned anything around Carl being involved so you'd have to tweak some things.

You hummed while deep in thought. Carl looked intently at you. "Well.. Once we find a good town thats not completely rundown we can make walls around it! There's forests for miles so that means a lot of wood." You explain. Carl really didn't need the extra stuff about how you'd get wood but he didn't want to interrupt your excited rant.

Carl just nodded and made small 'mhm' noises as you spoke about resources. "Like you said it'd be helpful to be near water and hopefully some farm land for food. Maybe if we find any animals in this mess, which I highly doubt, we can have pastures!" You went on. Clearly not stopping for anything.

Carl softly smacked your knee to make you go silent for a moment so he can add a suggestion. "You could have a small market. Dad talks about these things called farmers markets. People bring stuff they've grown or made and sell them." Carl tilted his head to the side as he watched you think.

You nodded excitedly. Carl and yourself talked for hours until Glenn woke up na d told you both to sleep.

The next day, neither adults were excited to deal with the two exhausted teens

Note: This was not spell checked nor grammer checked! I apologize in advance for the mistakes

#the walking dead x male reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #twd #carl grimes #carl grimes x male reader #carl grimes x reader #x male reader

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raplinesmoon · 2 years

Text

Turn Back Time (KSJ x F!Reader)

pairing: baseball player!Seokjin x doctor!reader (based on the movie 13 Going On 30) genres/au/rating: fluff, humour, angst, smut, time travel au, 18+ summary: After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until he’s thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team he’d always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him — you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?

warnings: bodyswap au (kind of), alternating pov, teenage insecurities, bullying, Seokjin is confused, mention of sports injury, thirst, mentions of hangover, sassy thirteen year olds, mentioned infidelity (not between main characters), cheating (like in sports), swearing, angsty confessions, smut warnings: nudity, Seokjin pops a semi at the wrong time, soft!dom Jin, making out, heavy petting, dry humping, nipple play, unprotected s*x (wrap it before you tap it)

word count: 13.3k a/n: a very happy early 30th bday to our WWH! This is my submission for the Catch of The Century collab hosted by myself, @joheunsaram, and @kithtaehyung! I was super excited writing the role reversal with Seokjin, and 13 Going On 30 is only one of my favorite movies ever (seriously, it never misses on every single rewatch). I also just miss Jin so much T_T I hope you all enjoy 💜 also ty to Mars for beta-reading this as well!

listen to the playlist here!

The envelope crinkles as it’s handed to Seokjin, and his heart drops before he can even pause his iPod and yank his earbuds out, the Black Eyed Peas providing the soundtrack to his humiliation.

Sighing, he looks at his face twisted mid-expression, half-smile and half-grimace, the metal of his braces glinting against the camera flash, and wonders why the photographer had even bothered counting down if he wasn’t going to wait for him to smile for the photo anyway. Not to mention the packet had been inappropriately labeled “Suckjin”. His eomma would be so disappointed. Looking around, he pushes his glasses up onto his nose before shoving the damn thing into his backpack, where it hopefully wouldn’t see the light of day for a few more hours.

“Kim!”

Seokjin bites back a groan at the voice bellowing in the hallway, turning to see Jackson Wang and his posse of baseball boys strolling up to him. He and Jackson weren’t friends, at least not in the traditional sense of the word, but it wasn’t like they hated each other either. They had a mutual agreement - Seokjin would offer to do Jackson’s algebra homework for the semester, and Jackson promised him a try-out spot for the school’s baseball team.

To Seokjin, it was worth it. The baseball team was at the height of status in their janky middle school - everyone knew the players on the team were the coolest, sporting the finest threads walking through the hallways, and tipping their caps to make the girls scream. But it was more than that - for as long as he could remember, Seokjin had always been the lame kid. The one that faded into the background, hiding his acne-laden face under his mop of dark hair, constantly fiddling with his glasses. He hated that.

For once, he wanted to be the special one. The one who hit the winning home run at the game, the one who made all his fellow students and teachers scream with joy, who brought the school to victory. Then no one would ever forget him again. And now, with a try-out spot on the horizon, he finally got his chance.

“Did you hear about that new chick that moved here?” Jackson’s laugh interrupts Seokjin’s stream of intrusive thoughts, and he shoves his iPod into his book. “She’s supposed to be hot stuff.”

“Dude, you should totally hit her up,” DK, one of Jackson’s cronies, eggs him on with a guffaw. Jackson waves him away with an annoyed look, telling them he needs to talk to Seokjin for a second.

His tall, muscular figure looms over Seokjin’s scrawny one, the hard surface of the locker meeting his back.

“Sooo, I know try-outs were supposed to be tonight,” Jackson drawls, looking Seokjin over. “Big day, right?”

He’s unable to respond with anything but a gulp, knowing something was up. It always was with Jackson.

“Well, stupid Mr. Kang decided that we’d have a take-home assignment, and it’s due at the end of the week. I hate to cancel tryouts, I know how much you were looking forward to them, but we’ve gotta bust our asses for this, you know how it is.”

“I-, I could do the assignment for you,” Seokjin blurts out, finally summoning the bravery to speak. This was his once chance. He couldn’t screw it up now.

“Excellent,” Jackson’s eyes glint with mischief, his head turning to regard Seokjin with interest. He claps him on the back, the force of his palm causing Seokjin to sputter, before walking away with a wink.

“See ya later, Kim!”

The bell rings, and Seokjin immediately makes a beeline for the bathroom, changing out of the argyle patterned vest that his mother had put him in for picture day, and into his well-loved, too-large pair of Nike gym shorts that he’d found for $3 at Goodwill. Looking in the dusty mirror, he checks himself out, making sure he looked the exact part of a baseball player. His unruly hair sticks up everywhere. Sighing in frustration, Seokjin lets the water under the sink run, wetting his hands and combing it back until it lays off his face.

Great, now he looked like he hadn’t taken a shower in a week.

“Baseball try-outs?” a voice next to him squeaks, and he turns to see another kid right next to him, shorter by an inch or two, his heart-shaped smile looking up at him.

“You too?” he asks the kid, who erupts into giggles, his laughter bouncing off the walls.

“Nahhhh, it’s the dance team for me, I’m Hobi by the way,” he reaches out his hand for Seokjin to shake. Seokjin takes the hand with hesitation. Hobi seemed nice, if not a little weird. He reminded Seokjin of himself.

“Dance team? Isn’t that kind of lame though?”

“What do you mean?” Hobi asks him with curious eyes. “It’s not any more lame than following around Jackson Wang and his posse of meatheads. It’s more original.”

Hobi straightens up when he sees the clock, the time hitting both of them.

“Oop! I gotta go, I’ll see you later dude! Good luck with try-outs!” he waves Seokjin goodbye, rushing out the door.

Hobi’s words about being original weigh heavily on Seokjin, and he wonders if doing all this would be worth it in the end. After a few minutes of contemplation, Seokjin decides it is. He doesn’t want to be original, he thinks, he just wants to be cool.

“Seokjinnie! Show Eomma the pictures,” his mom pinches his cheeks, one hand on the steering wheel. Seokjin scowls, wishing she’d hurry up. They were going to be late for tryouts.

“Eomma, can you please just give it a break?” he grumbles, but she reaches into his bag anyway, peeking at the envelope with the preview.

“Oh, you look sooo handsome my boy!” she coos, beaming at the photo of him with his braces showing. Was she for real?

“Eomma, stop calling me that! I hate my life,” he whines, slumping into his seat. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his most treasured baseball card, Albert Pujols staring him back in the face. Why couldn’t he be more like his hero? Not the awkward, bumbling thirteen-year-old Seokjin that he was, but an all-star.

“I wish I was thirty,” he sighs, and he watches his Eomma purse her lips.

“Seokjinnie,” she says as she pulls into the parking lot of the baseball field. “Eomma loves you very much, you know that, right? Whether you’re thirteen or thirty.”

She presses a wet kiss to his cheek, her lipstick leaving a faint pink smudge on him.

“Eomma ewwww!” he groans but hugs her anyway with a smile. He knew he’d come home to a warm bowl full of kimchi jjigae tonight.

“Good luck!!” her voice fades off into the distance as Seokjin descends into the dugout where the locker rooms were, ready to give this his best shot.

. . .

The sun trickles through the small windows of the dugout, the grey specks of dust flitting through the air. It’s empty. Seokjin walks through, realizing there’s no one there. Did he come at the wrong time?

Pacing around the room, he looks for something, anything that would indicate the team had been here, a spare bat, or maybe a jersey somewhere. But his heart sinks when he realizes there was nothing. He’d been such a fool.

“Ohhhh Kimmmm,” a voice says from the shadows, and Seokjin feels his blood run cold. Turning around, he sees Jackson’s figure looming at the door, a devious smirk lighting up his face.

“Jackson, what’s going on, where’s everybody—” Seokjin begins, only to be cut off by Jackson howling in laughter.

“Poor guy,” he mutters, stalking towards Seokjin with a menacing gleam in his eyes. “Did you really think those tryouts were real? That we’d let a lame-o like you on the team? You’re more stupid than I thought.”

Seokjin feels like he’s being eaten alive on the inside, shame and humiliation coming over him in waves, his head slumping forward to stare at the ground while Jackson’s words ring loud and clear in the back of his mind.

“I don’t get it, I did the report for you, you said I–, I’d have a chance this year,” he stutters, Jackson backing him up against the lockers.

Jackson picks up a dusty baseball mitt off the ground, shoving it into Seokjin’s hands before pushing him into the locker, the door slamming shut and caging him in darkness.

“You never stood a chance, Kim. You’re just not cool enough.”

. . .

Seokjin doesn’t know how long he bangs against the door of the locker, knuckles raw and bleeding from being cut by the metal. His voice has gone hoarse from screaming for help, knowing that he’s out of luck for a few hours.

He hated everyone - Jackson, the team, all his classmates at school who made him feel like he was worth nothing. He couldn’t wait to grow up, to get out of here, and to finally be somebody he was proud of.

Bile rises up in his throat as he looks at the dilapidated baseball mitt in his hands. He wants to fling it off into oblivion, its presence only reminding him of how silly he’d been to believe that things would be different.

Still, it was all he had, and so he clutched it to his chest, blowing off the dust, rocking back and forth in order to comfort himself as the sun began to set outside.

“I just wanna be thirty,” he whispers into the darkness before his eyes shut and he finally falls asleep.

Seokjin snorts in the middle of his slumber, shifting around to make himself more comfortable, when all of a sudden, he feels himself land on a hard surface with a thud. Cursing, he rubs his shoulder, standing up but tripping on the edge of something soft.

His eyes open sleepily, but it’s still dark. Grumbling, he palms at his face, eventually finding the edge of something covering his eyes. A blindfold? How had that gotten there? Lifting it off, light floods his vision, and his heart stops.

The room around him was very unfamiliar - he catches sight of the rug he’d tripped on moments ago, his eyes traveling up to the sleek bed made out of dark wood with its rumpled sheets. This wasn’t his room. Where were all the baseball posters? And his GameCube in the corner? And his desk with his iMac?

There was only one answer for this - he’d been kidnapped. Panicking, Seokjin fumbles with the doorknob, stumbling into the hallway of the apartment, his eyes widening and heart racing at the even more unfamiliar surroundings.

“Eomma?” he calls out, padding down the hallway and taking in the sparse decorations. “Appa?”

He pauses when he sees a poster on the wall, a scantily clad woman in what can only be described as a provocative pose, and his cheeks flush with heat. He turns his eyes away quickly, feeling like he’s violating someone’s privacy.

The living room is even more strange, full of black furniture and far neater than Seokjin’s room had ever been. His eyes widen at the large flat-screen TV that sits in the corner, and he lets out a soft *wow* at the thought of being able to watch baseball games on there.

He turns to look around more, only to come face-to-face with a mirror. But the person staring back at him isn’t Seokjin. This person was not a thirteen-year-old with acne, a mouth full of braces, and dorky wire-rimmed glasses. He looked like one of those models on magazine covers, with hair pushed back from his face, skin clearer than the water at the beach, and a jawline that could cut glass.

He screams at the unfamiliar face, thinking there’s an intruder in the house with him. He staggers backward, tripping on the raised entrance to the living room, and falling flat on his back. Pain explodes across the back of his head, and he wants to cry.

From elsewhere in the apartment, he hears a door click, and he peers over at the mirror again. He freezes when he realizes there is no other intruder. The figure in the mirror moves the same way he does, copying his exact movement, and Seokjin brings a hand to his face, seeing it rest on the jawline of the attractive reflection.

That was him. He was the man. Was this some kind of dream? Or an alternate reality? He tests the waters, feeling around his face, tugging at the skin to see if it was some sort of costume. His hands fly to his chest, realizing that he’s shirtless, and he’s amazed by the muscles he finds underneath his palms.

“What is happening?” he hyperventilates, shocked at the deep voice that comes out, so unlike his own. “What is going on?”

His anxiety increases as he begins to pace around the apartment, coaxing himself to breathe and relax and take a seat. He’d find a way out of this.

Plopping onto the leather sofa, something on the coffee table catches his eye. It’s a letter, and he pales when he sees the name on the envelope.

It’s his. Kim Seokjin. But that’s not his address. Frantically, he sifts through the mail, growing even paler when he sees all the letters are addressed to him, and that they’re being sent to this same address. He lived here.

The sofa creaks as he rises up abruptly, searching anywhere he can for a phone. Finding it in the corner, he dials his parents’ number, silently praying they hadn’t changed it. His Appa’s voice greets him on the phone, saying that they were currently away in Korea, but they’d be back at the end of this month, and he lets out a heavy sigh. He was alone.

Seokjin thinks this is the weirdest dream he’s ever been in, but he’s interrupted by the sound of the sink turning on in what he can only assume is the bathroom in this place.

“Seokjin, babe?” a female voice calls out from behind the door, and he jumps back, terror seizing him. This must be the strange woman who kidnapped him! She was probably some kind of weirdo, why was she calling him babe?

Seokjin searches for something, anything he can use to protect himself, settling on an umbrella in the corner.

“I-, I know you’re there,” his voice wobbles as he yells out to the woman. “My parents are gonna be home soon!”

The door creaks open and out steps a woman. The first thing Seokjin can think of is legs. So much leg, peeking out at him from underneath a fluffy white towel. And then he screams again. Because she’s naked under there.

“Babe, where’s the conditioner?” she asks him, crossing her arms. Her chest is emphasized by this action, and Seokjin looks up at the ceiling. This was inappropriate. He had to get out of here now!

“Come join me!” her voice fades into the background as he runs, grabbing the first coat and the first pair of shoes he sees in the entryway. The stairs of the unfamiliar building wind around him as he descends, his head spinning, and before he knows it, he’s through a golden set of doors and out onto a busy city street.

A strange buzzing comes from his pocket and Seokjin yelps. Was he being attacked? Had the government bugged him?

“Excuse me, ma’am, do you hear that?” he says frantically, pointing to his pocket. “Do you hear the buzzing?”

The woman passes him by without a second glance.

“Kim!” a voice calls out to him. “Get your ass over here!”

Seokjin turns to the sound of the voice and stops in his tracks when he sees the person calling out to him.

It’s Jackson Wang, all suited up for practice. But he’s not the Jackson Seokjin remembers, his tall looming figure from their middle school only growing more intimidating with the amount of Jackson has built over the years. The man chatters away on the phone angrily, gesturing for Seokjin to get in the car. What kind of world had he found himself in?

“I-, I don’t get in the car with strangers,” Seokjin says confidently, turning away from Jackson’s grabby hands. The man scoffs.

“Can you please just get in bro? We don’t have time for this, we’re gonna be late.”

“BAAABEEE?” Seokjin hears the voice from the apartment again, looking up to see the woman from the apartment calling down to him, now wearing a bra. She blows him kisses and giggles. He definitely did not want to be stuck with her.

His head feels like it’s gonna explode, caught between two horrifying situations. But right now even though it was Jackson, the dude in front of him seemed less weird, and so, he falls over into the seat of the car, the door slamming shut behind him.

During the car ride, Seokjin peers through the windows of the car, taking in the bright lights and busy streets of the city around him. He’s in awe. He never imagined being somewhere like this before.

“Dude, I know I’m your best friend, but you’re acting a little weird, even for me,” Jackson says next to him, and Seokjin straightens up, looking over at him. His best friend? Maybe he had all the answers to what was going on.

“We’re really best friends?” he asks, and the man snickers in response. “Something really weird is happening to me.”

“Oh god,” Jackson groans. “Did you finally get a girl pregnant?”

Seokjin feels his blood run cold. Pregnant? He hadn’t even kissed a girl yet, how could he get someone pregnant?

“NO!” Seokjin blurts out. “No, no, no, it’s even weirder! I slept in an apartment I’ve never seen before, and there was a naked girl in my bathroom and I almost saw her boobs!”

He finishes with an exhale, but the car comes to a screeching halt at the exact same time, the other man not even saying a word before he gets out.

“W-wait,” Seokjin runs after him. “Please don’t leave me here, just listen to me, I’m thirteen years old–”

“If you’re gonna start lying about your age, Kim, I’d make sure it was something legal at least,” Jackson smirks, walking ahead of him on the street.

“I know it sounds weird, but strange things are happening to me, like, like that!!”

The buzzing in Seokjin’s pocket starts again, and he freaks out, spinning in a circle as he tries to locate the source.

“Would you stop it?” Jackson pulls something out of Seokjin’s pocket. It’s a shiny, flat, metallic object that continues to buzz in his hands. “It’s probably just Coach.”

“C-coach? Who Coach? What Coach?” He feels like his head is about to explode.

The phone is held to Seokjin’s ear.

“HEY BAABEEE!” A voice drawls on the other end, and Seokjin screams, throwing the phone to his companion.

“Get her away from me!” he yelps.

“Okay, listen to me!” Jackson roars, stopping Seokjin in his tracks. “You need to calm down. We have a team meeting in ten minutes. I’m going to tell you what to do, you just need to repeat after me.”

“Ok,” Seokjin says, taking a deep breath.

“I am Kim Seokjin, star batsman for the Eagles. I am a tough bastard, and I’m gonna walk into the stadium and not let anyone know I’m hungover.”

“I’m–” Seokjin prepares to repeat the words, but stops when he hears the rest of them. “I AM?”

But Jackson is already gone, disappearing behind the double doors that lead to a stadium Seokjin never thought he’d find himself going into. The Eagles. His dream team.

Seokjin follows Jackson through the stadium, oohing and ahhing at all the different banners and pieces of sports memorabilia that are on display. This has to be the wildest field trip he’s ever been on.

The man next to him scoffs.

“It’s not like you come here every day,” he chuckles, sarcasm seeping into his voice.

“I DO?” Seokjin can’t believe his ears.

The two of them walk through, scores of people greeting Seokjin and wishing him a good morning. He doesn’t know any of them, their faces all unfamiliar. But they knew him. They knew him and they loved him. He was a star.

“There he is, our star batsman!!” a voice bellows, and Seokjin is attacked by a man throwing him into the biggest bear hug.

“Coach,” Jackson whispers.

“Coach!” Seokjin repeats with a squeak, feeling the wind get knocked out of him. “You’re my coach!”

“That’s right kiddo, who’s your daddy?” the man chortles, and Seokjin responds with eagerness.

“His name is Kim— ow!” He’s cut off by a sharp jab to his chest.

He follows the two men into the dugout, surprised to see a room full of men wearing Eagles jerseys. The team. This was the team. He was on their team!

Seokjin buzzes with excitement, waving hello to all the players with a bounce in his step. They all look at him with concern etched in their features, and the guy he came with urges him to sit down in a cubby. The shiny letters of “4 Kim” greet him, etched on the plaque that adorns the space, and a weird feeling of pride bubbles in his chest. He’d made it.

“Team,” Coach clears his throat, and a hush falls over the room, the commotion dying down. “We need to get it together. The Hawks have consistently outplayed us in every game of the season this year, and they’ve been using our own plays against us. We need to move fast, beat them at their own game, hit them when they least expect it, especially if we have any chance of making it to the playoffs this year! Don’t you agree, Kim?”

It takes a second for Seokjin to realize the man is referring to him, and he sits up straight, anxiety kicking in because he hadn’t prepared a response to his impassioned speech.

He raises his hand. “Can I go to the bathroom?”

The team erupts into laughter, howls echoing off the walls of the dugout, before Coach blows his whistle, silencing them all at once.

“Get out there on the field boys, we don’t have time to mess around,” and Seokjin rises up, ready to throw the ball around for a bit, happy for the familiarity of baseball to make him feel grounded when it seemed like everything about his life was upside down.

“Not you, Kim,” Coach holds out a hand to stop him. “You’re injured, remember? Your physical therapy with the doctor is in five minutes. Don’t be late.” And with a nod, he leaves.

Seokjin was even more confused. Injured? But he didn’t remember getting into an accident of any kind.

He hoped whoever this doctor was, they could help give him some answers.

The clacking of heels signals your arrival moments later, Seokjin lifting his head up to asses the new entry to the dugout. When his eyes fall on you, he sucks in a sharp breath.

Wow. You had to be the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, pencil skirt hugging your figure perfectly, hips tapering out to an ass that he knew Irene Bae couldn’t have accomplished no matter how much she stuffed her cheerleading uniform with toilet paper. His eyes travel upwards, falling on your chest, and immediately he blushes, reminded of the woman in the apartment this morning. Your boobs are covered by a silky top, the fabric doing nothing to hide their shape, and Seokjin gulps. They look way nicer than hers, anyway. He wants to rest his face on them like a pillow.

Maybe he should ask you out on a date first, though.

“Hi Jin!” your soft voice greets him happily, a dazzling smile taking over your features, and Seokjin feels his heart speed up. He hadn’t felt this dizzy since he saw a poster of Beyonce in a bikini when he was shopping at Target with his mom. “How are you doing today?”

“F-fine,” Seokjin stammers, unable to look you in the eyes when you take a seat next to him. He tries to find interest in the specks that line the floor, but your smell overwhelms him, the sweet floral scent attacking his nose. You looked nice, sounded nice, and you even smelled nice. Not to mention you were actually nice.

And he was supposed to be alone with you? For longer than five minutes? Seokjin thinks he’ll pass out if you get any closer to him.

“How’s the leg?” you ask him, leaning over until your face is right next to his. Seokjin forces himself to look away with a blush, grumbling about how it’s okay. He wasn’t sure whether his leg or his chest ached more right now with the way you were staring at him.

“Let me take a look!” you say cheerfully, dropping to your knees, and reaching out to grab his calf, and Seokjin thinks he might throw up with the way he can see down your shirt, the soft white lace of your bra doing things to his head. He’d never seen someone more beautiful in his life. And you were taking care of him.

The next twenty minutes are pure torture, Seokjin holding his breath as you poke and prod all over his leg, stretching it in and out with curious eyes. At some point, he feels his pants start to become tight and freaks when he looks down and sees the beginning of a boner in his sweats.

He coughs loudly, causing you to jump in surprise dropping his leg, and he immediately finds the nearest mitt and puts it on his lap to hide his unfortunate surprise guest. You smile up at him, rising to your feet.

“Your leg is doing great,” you tell him. “It should be all healed up soon, just in time for the playoffs. And then you won’t need to see me anymore.”

“Wait,” Seokjin chokes. He just met you! He needed you to stick around. Maybe you knew something about him, about what was going on. “What do you mean, ar-are you gonna leave?”

You cock your head curiously at him, and Seokjin shrinks into his seat at your intense gaze. Was he being weird around you?

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say softly. “I’ll always be here when you need me, Jin.”

Seokjin’s heart pounds at your words, and he shyly rubs at the back of his neck.

“Thanks! See you again—” he blanks when he realizes he doesn’t know who you are.

“___,” you tell him, raising your eyebrows up at him, turning to leave. “Seokjin? Next time you come to physical therapy, try not to be hungover, okay?”

He watches you leave with a dazed smile on his face. ___. Meeting you had been the highlight of his day so far. Despite how strange everything had been, he knew he couldn’t wait to see you again.

Seokjin catches the ball with an oomph!, shocked at how fast these players could throw. It’d only been a day since he found himself in this new body, and he’d stumbled home confused after his session with you yesterday, eventually caving and trying desperately to hail a taxi to take him back to the apartment. He sobbed in relief when he saw the strange woman was nowhere to be found, slumping against the door and finally allowing himself to breathe for the first time all day. Tears tracked down his face as he thought of how often he’d wished for this, the life he’d wanted so desperately finally finding him in the end.

Even now, as he tosses the ball back and forth, he’s unable to believe it. Him, the star batsman for the team he’d idolized growing up? He wanted to call his Eomma and tell her, but paused when he realized she probably already knew.

“Something on your mind?” Jackson says to him with a laugh, throwing a curveball, and Seokjin feels his palm burn from the force of catching it.

Seokjin surveys the man who was the last person he remembered before everything changed, and wonders how they ever became friends. He wants to ask, but something feels uneasy about it – like Jackson would judge him for it. He would probably think Seokjin was clinically insane if he even tried to bring up how he fell asleep thirteen and woke up thirty one day.

He wishes there was someone he could talk to, someone who got it, and that’s when he sees you waving from across the field. You’re dressed more casually today, in slacks and a soft-looking sweater, and yet you still manage to be absolutely stunning.

Seokjin feels guilty for staring at you so much like he’s a stupid thirteen-year-old with a crush on his teacher, but he also genuinely enjoyed spending time with you yesterday. Despite your annoyance at his “hangover”, you hadn’t taken it out on him with words as the others had; you went about the session as normal and treated him with kindness the entire time through.

Seokjin waves goodbye to Jackson, sprinting in your direction. He misses the way Jackson’s eyes follow his back, trained on the way you greet him with a smile, the two of you heading back into the dugout.

“Soooo, you’re a doctor?” Seokjin can’t help himself from asking, immediately feeling stupid when he realizes that he’s meant to have known you for a while. He couldn’t help it - you felt like the only real thing he could latch onto in this world, his mind running a thousand miles a minute as he processed all the new changes that had occurred.

“Yup! I studied sports medicine in college, then went to med school,” you answer politely, your tone giving no indication that you found him weird at all.

“That’s cool, you must be super smart, 7th grade bio is hard enough for me,” Jin laments, immediately realizing his mistake with a soft gasp. “Was. It was hard for me, you know, back in seventh grade.”

“Are you sure you’re okay Seokjin?” you look up at him, eyes filled with concern.

Tears prick at Seokjin’s eyes, the earnest tone of your voice giving him the push he needed to be honest. No, he was not okay. He wasn’t okay, and he needed someone to talk to, and he thinks that you, of all people, might be able to understand. After all, your entire job involved empathy.

“Something really weird is happening,” he confesses, watching you listen carefully to his words. “I don’t know what’s been going on, but the last thing I remember, I was sitting in my closet, and it’s like I’m in a weird dream. I feel like I skipped half my life – I can’t remember the person I used to be, or what my life was like at all. It’s like I don’t even recognize myself.”

“I think I need help,” he continues. “I need help remembering who I was before. You’ve known me for a little bit, right ___? Do you think you could help?”

Seokjin thought he was onto something, but his heart drops to his stomach when he looks up and he sees you, face pale and lip trembling like you’re about to cry.

“I–, I don’t know if I’m the best person to help you with that Seokjin, maybe you should ask Jackson,” you respond, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Why?” he leans over to look into your eyes, shocked when they’re as misty as his own. “What happened, ___?”

Before he knows it, the vulnerable look in your eyes is gone, and you’re back to your normal, cheerful self.

“Hey,” you tell him. “Why don’t we pack it up for today? I’ll walk you back home to your apartment.”

“Okay,” Seokjin says, stomach still churning at the pained look you’d had moments before. “But can we get milkshakes?”

You smile at him, a look of fondness coming over you. You rise, beckoning him to follow you outside.

“I think we can manage that.”

The slurp of a straw interrupts your thoughts, and you look over to see Seokjin, eyes wide with delight as he drinks up the last of his milkshake, the whipped cream forming a mustache on his top lip.

You’re puzzled. The Seokjin you’d known before would have never agreed to hang out with you, let alone talk to you for an extended period of time. For as long as you’d known him, even in college, he’d been too arrogant for his own good, obsessed with letting everyone know the world revolved around him and him only. The man sitting in front of you is completely different, transformed in a way that didn’t even seem real.

The Seokjin that sat with you now seemed infinitely more unsure of himself, shy and hesitant in the way that only a child would be. You wonder what could have changed so suddenly. Coach hadn’t given you any reports about him undergoing head trauma in addition to his leg injury.

“Thank you for the milkshake,’’ Seokjin grins, wiping the cream off his lips, and you hate the way your heart skips a beat at that. You curse yourself for the moment of weakness, even after all this time.

“We went to college together,” you blurt out, not knowing why you chose to reveal this piece of information, given that he likely already knew it. “Me, you, and Jackson.”

Seokjin’s mouth gapes open, a shocked gasp escaping his open mouth.

“Really?” he says leaning in closer to you. “Were we friends?”

You furrow your brow in confusion. Had he really forgotten college? I mean it had been nearly a decade ago, and it wasn’t like life had drawn you back together until recently.

“Not really, you moved in a different crowd,” you chuckle. “Like not the nerdy, study in the library kind. More like the frat rager kind.”

“WHOAAAA,” Seokjin marvels in wonder, his voice filled with childlike glee. “That sounds awesome.”

“What if this isn’t just a dream? What if what I wished for actually happened?” he continues, softer this time, but you still pick up on it.

Reaching a hand towards him, you pull away at the last moment, unsure why you were acting so wildly out of character with him. It was like the energy between you two had completely changed.

“Well, you got everything you ever wanted, then, might as well enjoy it,” you smile at him, heart fluttering when he gives you a sincere smile back, his cheeks puffing out with happiness.

“I have to run,” you get up abruptly, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “But I’ll see you at the gala tonight?”

“What gala?” he asks, eyes looking up at your curiously. Your stomach turns in disbelief. Did he actually not remember? Maybe his schedule was so busy he’d forgotten.

“The charity gala that I organized for the team tonight,” you tell him. “The one to raise money for medical care for athletes who’ve suffered a career-ending injury?”

“Oh! I’ll be there,” Seokjin says confidently, beaming at you. You give him a weak smile back, knowing you have to leave before you did something stupid and made the same mistake twice.

“Arrivederci, ___!” he waves, turning to walk in the other direction before he disappears around the corner.

“Au revoir,” you whisper back softly.

Your life was completely different now, and there was no place for him in it.

Seokjin straightens his tie before stepping into his closet, perusing the many suit options he had. He wanted to pick his best outfit to impress you with tonight, but he was feeling overwhelmed with the size of the space, missing the days when his Eomma would drag him to Goodwill and they’d find the cheapest one that fit.

He settles on a navy blue one, throwing the jacket over his shoulders, and pushing his hair up off his face, before taking a step back to look at himself in the mirror.

Whoa. Seokjin still couldn’t get used to the way his body had changed, remembering the ugly duckling phase he’d been in the middle of before being transported here. He wonders if he was able to talk to a lot of girls now that he was more confident. Maybe he’d even had a past girlfriend that he didn’t know about. Maybe they’d even had sex.

Seokjin’s cheeks burn when he thinks about it, your face in the back of his mind. He imagines what it’d be like to kiss you, thinking about how soft your lips would feel. Why had the two of you never dated? Maybe because you worked together? Whatever it was, he hoped he could change your mind about it.

Stepping out of his apartment, he skips down the hallway to the elevator, giddy to be going to his first grown-up party. Well, not technically his first, but more like the first, he could remember. The elevator dings and Seokjin makes his way inside, a little boy his only other companion.

“Hi,” Seokjin says, but the boy just ignores him, looking at his phone.

“I’m Seokjin,” he says, extending a hand that catches the boy’s attention.

“Jungwoo,” the boy says, looking hesitant as he accepts the handshake. “Why are you talking to me?”

“Why not?” Seokjin says, feeling confused. “We’re neighbours, right?”

“Yeah,” Jungwoo responds despondently. “But you usually ignore me most of the time.”

The way he says it makes Seokjin feel horrible inside. He would never purposefully ignore someone like that, not after knowing what it felt like as a kid. He wonders what the 30-year-old version of him had been like to warrant such a reaction.

“How old are you, Jungwoo?”

“I’m thirteen,” Jungwoo responds, and all of a sudden, the elevator comes to a stop, signaling their arrival at the ground floor. Jungwoo walks out without another word, Seokjin running after him.

“Wait!” he says sharply, watching Jungwoo turn to look at him in shock. “You should come over and hang out sometime, we can watch some baseball together.”

“Really?” Jungwoo says hopefully.

“Yeah,” Seokjin smiles, patting him on the back. “I gotta go, but I’ll see you later!”

And Seokjin runs out the door, excited not only to have made a new friend but at the fact that it felt like this strange life of his was finally clicking into place.

The room spins around you, and you can’t tell whether it’s because the arm around you feels too tight tonight or because the music is boring as heck. You want nothing more than to sit down, knowing all the attention would be on you in a matter of moments, and the thought made you sick.

What made you even more nauseous was your partner’s maroon tux. Maroon. To match your navy blue. When you’d asked why he hadn’t worn the same color, his only response was:

“Babe, this little thing isn’t that serious, right? It’s about the money.”

You excuse yourself, wanting to find some investors to talk to about how to contribute their generous wealth towards your aspiring fund, only to catch sight of Kim Seokjin in a corner, knocking back drinks with a giddy smile.

“____!” he waves you over happily when he sees you, taking your hand to pull you in close to him. “I can’t believe it’s 10:00 pm on a school night and I’m at a party, drinking pina coladas that aren’t virgin!”

Your jaw drops open when you see what he’s wearing. Navy blue - a smart-looking suit to match your gown perfectly, and you feel the back of your neck grow hot with thoughts you shouldn’t be having.

“Glad to see you’re doing better now,” you giggle, and his smirk turns lopsided with glee at your kind words, its unintended effect being to cause butterflies to bubble in your chest.

“I’d be even better if they turned off this boring music,” he slurs contentedly, taking another drink from the server. “Why don’t they play some throwback tunes in here?”

“I’m not sure that fits with the sophisticated vibes needed to gain a corporate sponsorship for my cause, I’m afraid.”

“I’d donate money to you,” he says softly, his warm eyes twinkling from the numerous fairy lights as they meet yours. “Heck, I’d give you my entire paycheck.”

Setting the glass down, all signs of his previous tipsiness disappear as he regards you with a serious stare. You watch his cheeks flush, his gaze dropping to the low neckline as he sharply inhales, bringing his eyes back up to your face.

“Wanna go for a spin?”

You’re mesmerized by him, transfixed as you take his hand, the two of you retreating into a private corner of the ballroom, right by the open-air balcony. The cool breeze creates shivers down your spine as Seokjin pulls you close, his warm breath fanning against your face, and despite your best efforts to look past him and out onto the city lights, you find you can’t take your eyes off him.

It all feels too short, barely a minute of you swaying in Seokjin’s arms before the beat changes abruptly, Usher blasting through the speakers. You feel achingly empty when Seokjin’s hand leaves yours, but the smile returns to your face when a moment later, he begins head-banging and gyrating goofily to the new song.

“Now this is more like it,” he hollers, and you can’t help but join him the two of you twisting and turning until you’re laughing, out of breath and delirious with joy.

The joy is cut short when another shadow looms over your meeting, pulling you into his arms.

“___, babe there you are! What are you and Kim doing hiding away in this corner?” Jackson pulls you into his side, and your stomach drops when you watch Seokjin’s eyes go wide with a mix of shock, and what you can only assume is pain.

“Sorry Kim, I know you get her for the PT during practice, but she’s mine for the PT after hours if you know what I mean,” Jackson grins, pressing a kiss to your hair.

Seokjin’s mouth remains agape, and you watch his eyes glimmer with realization as he pans to the thin band that adorns your left ring finger, finally noticing its presence for the first time.

A sharp squeal interrupts the tense moment between you, and you notice a woman in the tightest dress you’ve ever seen run over to Seokjin, nearly knocking him over as she wraps her arms around him. His entire body tenses up, and you want nothing more than to smooth over the hair that has fallen into his face.

“Baaabe, you’ve been ignoring me,” the woman whines, her nasal voice grating your ears. Of course. It’s Jennie Kim, model extraordinaire. Of course, she would be Seokjin’s date now – a match worthy of his striking looks and personality.

“Who are they?” she says vapidly, taking in you and Jackson’s entwined figures.

“I, uh, these are, this is ___, and Jackson, coworkers, and friends from college,” he stutters, trying to unravel himself from her death grip. “And this is, uh, uhm…’

“Jennie Kim!” Jackson immediately lets you go to take her hand, shaking it furiously. “So nice to meet you!”

“Babe, we should get going,” Jennie tugs on Seokjin’s shoulder. “Don’t you remember we kind of had other plans for the night?”

“W-we did?” Seokjin stammers, and you decide you need to walk away, lightly tugging Jackson’s arm to follow you across the ballroom. Of course, he’d go home with her - she was beautiful, successful, and perfect. And you were just you.

“___,” you hear Seokjin’s voice behind you, yet you don’t want to hear anything he has to say. Jackson has left your side once again, going back to talk animatedly to Jennie, and you’re alone together once again.

“Should I go home with her? Jennie? Is it a good idea?” he asks, and you turn, meeting his gaze, which seems so earnest, so genuinely filled with concern for what you thought. Or at least that’s what your overthinking mind told you, kicking back into gear after eight years of wiping all thoughts of Seokjin from your memory.

“Yeah, you should,” you tell him honestly, trying to keep your voice as level as possible. “She’s your girlfriend, after all.”

Seokjin yawns, Jungwoo’s animated voice yapping away in his ear as the two of them walk down to the lobby together. His night had gone later than he expected - too much of it spent lost in the city streets as he’d run out of Jennie’s apartment, not expecting her naked boobs to be in his face the moment they’d come in. Her hands had been all over him, ignoring his suggestions of quitting to watch a movie or maybe even play a game of Monopoly.

“Girls are sooo stupid,” Jungwoo sighs. “Why don’t the ones you like ever like you? Why do they give all these weird signals?”

“Tell me about it,” Seokjin sighs, your face immediately coming to his mind, thinking about how you’d felt in his arms at the gala. Obviously, you’d looked beautiful, but underneath the dim lights, you shone in a way that he didn’t think was possible, one that made him feel very strange on the inside.

“Love is a battlefield, my friend,” Seokjin ruffles the kid’s hair before getting into his waiting taxi and waving goodbye. “Have fun with fractions! Remember, always divide by the number on the bottom!”

. . .

Coach was furious. The team was failing, their chances of making the playoffs dismal, and he made that clear with how he ripped into them with the speech.

“You better shape up now, or this franchise as we know it will be over!”

“Maybe that’s what we need,” Seokjin blurts out, watching the entire team turn to him. “Maybe we need to get our asses handed to us. Maybe we need to actually experience loss to realize how much is at stake. Because winning is great and all, but don’t we learn more from our failures?”

The locker room is abuzz with chatter, Coach clapping Seokjin on the back.

“I knew you wouldn’t let the hate get to you, kid,” he says, and Seokjin looks at him blankly, wondering what he could be referring to.

“ESPN?” Coach says. “That article they ran a few months ago about you being a slimy, unprofessional cheat just because you “injured” that player for the Cardinals? I knew it was all BS. I mean look at you, how could you hurt somebody when you’re injured yourself?”

Seokjin’s stomach sinks. He’d hurt another player? That was something he’d never dreamed of doing. He loved baseball, and everyone deserved to experience the joy of the sport, whether it was through winning or losing. That was what made a good player, not sabotaging others.

One by one, the players get ready for practice, Seokjin finally suiting up to go bat for the first time in a while. His sessions with you had tapered down as he recovered, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit sad. The more and more he thought about the life he’d always wanted, one as a star baseball player, the more awful it seemed. Being a grown-up wasn’t as fun as he thought - people were liars, cheaters, and just plain old mean. But you weren’t like that.

The bat slams against the ball with a satisfying crack, soaring out towards the far end of the field, and Seokjin prepares to run. But two voices behind him make him stop in his tracks.

“Can’t believe Coach is trusting Kim and his new weird-ass stunt,” Jackson seethes. “Like he’s really gonna help rebrand the team? All he cares about is himself.”

“Yup, the prick was the entire reason our last shortstop got traded,” Jaehyun, one of the left fielders, hisses. “Can’t believe Kim had an affair with the guy’s wife.”

Seokjin drops the bat with a clank, the entire team turning to look at him. But he doesn’t care, storming off into the dugout. Was this really who he was? A bully and a cheater? Being thirty no longer seemed like a dream, it was steadily turning into a nightmare.

Storming through the dugout, he finally finds the door to your office, sighing heavily as he raps against it.

You open it within seconds, shocked to see his dejected figure standing in front of you.

“Wanna go for a walk, ___?”

“I can’t believe you and Jackson are getting married,” Seokjin remarks as the two of you walk, bringing up the proverbial elephant he’d wanted to ask you about ever since the night of the gala.

“Only a couple of weeks now,” you respond, wrapping your arms around you to fight off the chill, and Seokjin wishes he’d brought a jacket to keep you warm.

“Are you guys soulmates?” he asks, genuinely curious to know the answer. ‘Do you get butterflies when you’re around him?”

He knows that his question is loaded, that underneath it hides the depth of the feelings he’s managed to keep concealed for all this time, but he asks anyway, knowing the answer may hurt him.

“Nahh, I don’t really believe in that anymore. The last time I was crazy like that for a guy was in college,” you tell him, shrugging your shoulders.

“Why weren’t we ever friends back then?” he asks you again, feeling you come to a stop next to him, your heavy sigh permeating the tense air between you.

“Listen,” you tell him, and your voice sounds thick with what he thinks are tears, “Can we just please forget about it? It was a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Seokjin knows he may not have any reason to apologize but he still wants to anyway. It seemed like he’d left a trail of destruction behind him wherever you went.

“Seokjin, no, please, you don’t have to apologize,” you grab his hand and give him a weak smile, trying vainly to reassure him, but his rapidly racing thoughts get in the way.

“I want to though,” he says back, his own voice cracking. “I mean, do you even know the kind of person I am, ___? I don’t have friends, I just use people, I slept with a teammate's wife, and I never talk to my parents. I’m not a nice person. And the thing is, I’m not thirteen anymore. I need to stop living in the past.”

And with that, he lets you go, ignoring your cries of protest as he runs away, his mistakes following him until he gets home. Closing the door behind him, he slumps to the floor, sobbing while he dials his parents' number.

It was time for him to make things right.

Seokjin stares down at the facade of the house he’d grown up with, the chipped paint and wide windows instantly soothing his heart. The train ride over had been brutal, his empty eyes watching the scenery drift by aimlessly, ignoring the giggles of the group of teenagers that sat next to him.

He wished he could tell them to stay happy and young forever, to continue living without a care in the world. Being a grown-up wasn’t worth it. Instead of bringing him the happiness and the belonging he’d craved, it only made him feel more alone, more empty inside than he’d ever felt as an awkward teen.

Stepping onto the porch, he reaches under the doormat, relieved to see his parents left a spare key there. It was like they’d been waiting for him to come home this entire time.

As he walks through the door, a chilling realization sets in. The house was empty. His parents weren’t here, they were probably in Korea. And all at once, Seokjin’s hope for coming back came crashing down.

Stepping out of his shoes, he leaves them at the door, sprinting up the stairs to his room. The door creaks open, and Seokjin lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

The bed is gone, replaced with a treadmill. The walls had been repainted, the floors redone. The lone thing that remained of his was the desk in the corner, all his belongings still on it. It serves only to remind him that his parents had always waited for him to come home, but eventually, they too must have grown tired of him.

A sob escapes him, and he realized he’d disappeared completely from their lives, not even bothering to keep up with the only people who’d loved him unconditionally his entire life. All of a sudden he feels nauseous, his stomach turning as he realized the fate the threads of time had woven him - a life of loneliness. One where he spent so much time garnering attention, only to be a forgotten soul anyway.

He rushes into the basement, the garish yellow walls exactly as they’d been seventeen years ago, and locks himself in the utility closet. Tears stain his face as he hiccups, slamming his head back against the wall.

“I wish I was thirteen again, I wish I was thirteen again.” But his pleading words fail to work this time around.

He doesn’t know how long he remains crumpled up in the closet, but he doesn’t hear the front door open. He doesn’t hear his parents pad down the basement stairs, umbrellas in hand until the closet door opens, light seeps in, and he’s met with their concerned faces.

Seokjin leaps to his feet, throwing his arms around them.

“Eomma, Appa, I missed you. I missed you both so much.”

. . .

The rain patters against the window, and Seokjin turns over on the couch, watching it gently fall. After a bowl of his Eomma’s kimchi jjigae, he’d felt the most like himself he had in a long time, the two of them fretting over how thin he’d gotten.

But now, alone in the living room, Seokjin felt like an intruder again. His parents were more used to living without him than with him.

Suddenly, his throat feels dry, the number of tears he’d shed today leaving him parched. He gets up, padding over to the kitchen, keeping his footsteps soft so he doesn’t disturb his parents. Flicking the light on, he walks over to the fridge, opening it to get the water jug out.

“Seokjinnie?” his Eomma’s soft voice comes from behind him. “What are you doing awake at this time?”

Seokjin should have known better than to get up in the middle of the night. His Eomma’s sixth sense had always been knowing when her child needed something. Within five minutes, she’s boiling some frozen dumplings and chopping up vegetables to make him food.

He’s grateful for her attention, but his stomach churns with nausea. She may be the only other person he can talk to about this. Other than you.

“Eomma,” he interrupts her quiet concentration, and she looks over at him from the stove, her eyebrows etched with concern. “If you were given a chance, do you ever wish you could go back? Like to a different time?”

“I’d love to go back and take care of some of these wrinkles,” she chuckles, and Seokjin smiles along with her. Her face hasn’t changed at all since he was thirteen, still as youthful as ever.

“Yeah, but if you were given a do-over, let’s say, what would you change? Like if you made a big mistake,” Seokjin asks, wondering if having regrets was just part of growing older and whether there was still hope.

“Well, I don’t regret making any mistakes in my life, because if I hadn’t made them, I wouldn’t have known how to make them right,” she responds, a knowing twinkle in her eye when she sees Seokjin staring down at the food, failing to meet her eyes.

“I’m sorry I haven’t come home in a while,” he says, his voice heavy with regret. His Eomma reaches across the table, taking his hand in her smaller one, and squeezing it gently.

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

“This doesn’t make sense, I’m not even good at baseball,” you tell Seokjin. “Why do you want to practice with me?”

Seokjin looks at you, strolling through the park with him in a cosy-looking hoodie and jeans. While your outfit may not have been ideal for baseball practice, the way he looked at you still sent your heart aflutter, and you wondered what it’d be like to wear one of his oversized sweatshirts.

“That’s exactly the point, ____, I’ve gotten too comfortable practicing with the team. I know their every move, but we need to step it up for the playoffs. That’s why I need someone different. Someone who can keep me on my toes. Someone like you.”

You cover your face with your hands shyly, palms out towards him, and that’s when he decides to launch a curveball.

“OW!” you yelp. “Hey, I wasn’t ready for that!”

“Like I said,” Seokjin smirks. “I need you to keep me on my toes. Looks like you need me to do the same.”

The two of you toss around the ball for a while, your throws being much more unpredictable and much less powerful than Seokjin’s. Your ego inflated exponentially when you saw him miss a few, a smug expression on your face. When you look up at the sky, you realize it’s gotten dark, the sun beginning to set behind the trees.

“Hahaha, looks like the team might need a replacement pitcher soon,” you taunt him.

“In your dreams, ___, stick to helping people instead,” he laughs, immediately running towards you with a devious grin.

You squeal, running away from him, the two of you chasing each other through the park, your laughter echoing through the trees the entire way.

Eventually, your legs tire, and you slow down, hiding behind a tree out of his sight. It’s all for nothing when you hear his footsteps thud on the running path behind you, his arms coming to wrap around you, sending the two of you toppling into the grass.

“Ahhh, shit, that hurt more than it should have,” you groan, shifting onto your back. “We’re getting old.”

When you look up at him, your heart stops. Your heavy breathing slows as you look up at him, the stars from the night sky reflected in his eyes when he stares down at you, something hidden in their depths that makes your chest come alive with excitement.

“Wanna know a secret, ____?” he laughs, stroking your wrist gently with his thumb, and you look over to see your hands intertwined. You hadn’t even noticed you were holding his.

“You’re the sweetest girl I’ve ever known.”

Seokjin’s plush lips descend towards yours, your breaths mingling for a brief moment before panic sets in, and you turn the other way, his kiss ending up on your cheek instead. You feel dizzy with emotion, immediately regretting the decision, knowing all you wanted to know was if his lips felt as soft as they looked. You’d been fooling yourself for so long, thinking your feelings for him had gone away.

You sit up, silence heavy in between you both, but you don’t leave, instead wrapping your arms around him and leaning onto his shoulder. He sighs contentedly, nuzzling against you, and the two of you remain there, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance.

“Ew, what do you mean you guys didn’t kiss properly,” Jungwoo looks at Seokjin from across his bed, five other pairs of young, curious eyes looking over at him. “Did she have cooties or something?”

“Stop it!” Soobin punches Jungwoo in the shoulder, earning a glare from the other boy. “You’re ruining the romance. Are you gonna ask her out, Jin?”

The baseball game in the background remains forgotten as the boys erupt with chatter, arguing amongst themselves about how to ask out a girl.

“I don’t know, guys,” Seokjin says dejectedly, wondering if the reason you’d only let him kiss you on the cheek was because you were engaged to Jackson. “It’s complicated with like, grownup stuff.”

“At least you have someone who likes you,” Felix groans. “Girls don’t exactly want to jump your bones when you’re a metal mouth.”

Seokjin jumps up at that, shushing Felix for even saying such a ludicrous thing.

“None of that, okay! We are young, and we are thriving. Love may be a battlefield, but we’re the Earth’s finest soldiers. So let’s get out there, yeah?”

. . .

It’s finally here. The game that will make or break the Eagles’ season. And it’s also Seokjin’s first game back. The locker room is abuzz with tension and anxiousness, the players tripping around each other as they get ready.

In his cubby, Seokjin sits, and thinks. This was the moment he’d waited his entire life for. To be a star player, and to win a championship. Yet, in the grand scheme of things that had occurred, it was just another thing he had to do. He no longer faced the same anxiety he had during the day of the tryouts, wondering if he was good enough. He knew now that he was. That all of them were.

“Kim!” Coach slaps him across the back. “Speech please!”

Seokjin rises up and looks at his fellow men and teammates. He feels silly, giving a speech to them when he’s probably the lamest out of all of them, with thirteen-year-olds for friends and a hopeless crush on a girl. But then he remembers the words of that kid in the bathroom right before everything had changed. Hobi.

And he’d rather be original than cool anyway.

“I think,” he begins. “Over the course of the season, we’ve all forgotten that we have a reason for this. Baseball is our sport, and it’s our career, yeah, but there’s more to us than that. We have families, friends, and people we love and care about. We’re doing this for them just as much as we’re doing it for us. Because when we go out there on that field, and we put the love we feel for ourselves, and for everyone around us, into the sport that we play, we’ll be at our best. We need to remember what used to be good, and harness that.”

The whole dugout is silent for a few terrifying moments before there’s a clap from the back of the room. It’s joined by another one until the whole room is thundering in applause, and Coach is hugging Seokjin with tears in his eyes.

“Looks like that time off did you real good, kid.”

. . .

Seokjin is the last one to leave after the victory, of course. He strips off his shirt, hitting the showers until all the sweat has dripped off his body, and now he pulls his workout gear over his head. The sound of a voice clearing behind him interrupts him, and he turns in surprise, seeing Jackson in the middle of the dugout.

“Hey,” Seokjin says. “Aren’t you supposed to go home? Isn’t ___ waiting for you?”

“Shut the fuck up, Kim,” Jackson replies, ice in his tone. “I know your entire little stunt, and I’m here to tell you it’s not gonna work this time.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin feels his heart race at Jackson’s seething accusation.

“The moment this week ends, I’ll be married to ___, and I’m gonna ask Coach to trade me. You can’t have her this time, Kim. Do you think you can just bat your eyelashes and giggle and you’ll win the team over and get the girl? Nuh-uh. You’re still just a lame excuse of a person.”

Seokjin wants to protest, but he remains frozen, Jackson’s words causing his entire world to come crashing down around him. His lip begins to tremble, and when the first tear falls, he hears Jackson scoff, turning on his heels to leave.

“You never stood a chance, Kim. Deep down, you’re still just that scared, uncool thirteen-year-old. Nothing’s changed, and nothing ever will.”

The week before the playoffs passes in agony, Seokjin knowing that Jackson knew about his feelings for you, and the fact that he’d be traded, and you’d go with him. He spends all his time in his apartment, talking with Jungwoo about what to do, he and the younger boy go through many pints of ice cream.

In the end, he calls the one he knows he needs to hear from the most.

“Eomma?” he asks over the phone. It feels good to tell her everything finally. She’d squealed in delight when he told her about you, telling him that Jackson was just being a quote, “butthurt dipshit.” “What should I do?”

“Oh Seokjinnie, only you know that. Just stay true to yourself, and all the answers will come your way, my boy.”

When he hangs up the phone, a notification pings on it, and he gasps at the headline.

“Jackson Wang traded from Eagles.”

In all his misery, he’d forgotten what day it was. He was almost out of time.

. . .

The Internet was truly capable of modern miracles in this day and age, Jungwoo working his magic to help Seokjin find out the location of your wedding venue. Seokjin doesn’t even change out of his ratty sweats, throwing on his coat and running as fast as he can down the city streets, his phone overheating at how many times he ignored the maps function and changed direction.

Eventually, he comes to a stop outside the swanky hotel, strolling through the revolving doors and stumbling into the lobby. The finely dressed guests pay him no notice, and he manages to steal a bouquet of flowers, covering his face as he runs up the stairs two at a time, until he eventually finds your room number.

He knocks on the door, relieved to find it’s open, and that you’re alone. It must almost be time. You don’t notice him come in, too busy fixing your veil. A soft gasp escapes when you see him behind you in the mirror, disheveled and dripping with sweat, and you turn.

Seokjin thinks his heart might explode at how beautiful you look, your dress hugging every part of your body perfectly. But it’s more than that. Everything about you is radiant, glowing from the inside out. It’s like you’re the sun, and he’s the moon, your bright light complimenting his dim glow perfectly.

“Hey,” he manages to breathe out.

“Hi,” you whisper back, voice heavy with disbelief that he’s actually here.

“____, I know I’m not the greatest person, but I’m trying to be better,” he reaches for you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, and your hand comes up to join his, eyes glimmering with tears. “And I’d like to think if you also believed that about me, maybe you wouldn’t be marrying Jackson right now. That maybe things could be different.”

You whimper, trying hard to hold back the tears, and Seokjin doesn’t want you to ruin your makeup, so he wipes them for you.

“I can’t lie to myself anymore,” you tell him. “I felt things for you over these past few weeks that I haven’t felt for eight years. But I’ve also realized over the past few days that you can’t just turn back time.”

“Why not?” Seokjin asks earnestly. He wants to believe, has to believe that there might be a way for it to work.

“Because you made your choice, eight years ago in college, when I told you I liked you,” you respond, barely a whisper. “And you rejected me. I moved on and so did you. We’ve been going down different paths for so long, making different choices. And I chose Jackson.”

Seokjin feels dizzy, like the floor is about to collapse from underneath him. You’d liked him back then. And he’d been too caught up in his delusions to be honest with himself, to give you the chance that you deserved. And now it was too late. He knew growing up was about making mistakes, and learning how to deal with them, but somehow this mistake hurt more than anything he could have imagined.

“Don’t cry,” you say sadly, seeing his eyes fill with tears, mirroring your own.

“I’ll be fine,” he says with a weak smile, backing away. “I promise. I’m crying because I’m happy. I want you to be so, so happy.”

You reach around your neck, fumbling with the clasp of your necklace until it finally comes undone, putting it in his palm gently.

He looks down and chokes on a sob. It’s a tiny gold baseball glove. He’d never noticed it before. You close his palm around it, and he takes a step back, finding himself underneath the door.

“I love you, ___.”

He has to say it before he goes, he has to let you know how he feels.

“I love you too, Seokjin. I always have.”

And with that, he leaves.

. . . .

Seokjin stumbles down the steps of the hotel, hyperventilating as he finds himself back on the street, the tiny gold necklace still clutched in the palm of his hand.

He stumbles down the busy road, bumping into strangers, but not caring. All he could think about was the fact that you loved him back, and yet life was still so unfair. Seokjin felt stupid for even dreaming of this in the first place, realizing that dreams were nothing but a delusion. Things never turned out the way you wanted them to, the black and white of them always complicated by different shades of grey.

He finds an empty bench and sits down, clutching his knees to his chest like a child. Running his thumb over the delicate gold charm, he closes his eyes, wishing that none of this had ever happened to him, that he had just stayed thirteen this entire time.

He knew it was all for nothing, but that didn’t stop him from hoping one last time.

Seokjin jolts awake with a gasp, air burning his lungs and light hurting his eyes as the door to the locker is thrown open. His vision is blurry for a few seconds before it adjusts, and he looks up at his rescuer.

It’s a young girl, with a concerned look on her face.

“I heard you screaming, I live right next to the field. Are you okay?” she asks, and something about her seems familiar, but Seokjin can’t quite put his nose on it.

Looking down, he sees the dusty baseball mitt crushed in the palm of his hand, and running his tongue across his teeth, feels the metal of his braces, and his heart swells with joy. It worked! He was thirteen again. And now, he could finally start over.

“I’ll be fine,” he smiles at her, putting his glasses on. They rest crooked on the tip of his nose, but he doesn’t care. “Thanks for saving me.”

“No problem!” the girl reaches her hand out for him to shake. “I’m ___, by the way. I just moved here.”

Seokjin feels his heart stop, looking into your eyes, finding them to be the same ones he’d said goodbye to moments ago. Was this really true? Was the universe giving him another chance?

Taking his hand in hers, he shakes it, beaming down at her. “Nice to meet you, ___, I’m Jin. D-do, do you maybe want to go grab a milkshake and hang out?”

Your dazzling smile hasn’t changed at all, as you nod your head and laugh, the two of you walking out of the dugout and into the warm afternoon sun.

“I think we’re gonna be best friends, Jin.”

Epilogue

Seokjin pants, breath coming out in gasps as he carries the heavy box up the porch steps. He slams it onto the ground with a thud, putting his hands on his knees and letting out a loud groan, the muscles of his back aching. When he looks down, his mouth parts in surprise, the box’s tape having split open, revealing the myriad of photo frames that would soon decorate your new home.

From just a brief glance, Seokjin can already see a few pictures that make his heart swell, a dazed smile on his face. There was the one of you two at prom, when he’d almost confessed after seeing how stunning you looked in your dress but chickened out at the last minute. There was another from your college graduation, the two of you with bright eyes and wide smiles, ready to take on the future together. Another one from a date night at a game where he remembers the two of you getting caught on the jumbotron and making out in front of the crowd. His halmeoni blushed when she saw the video on tv the next day. On top of them all, though, sits Seokjin’s most prized possession: the framed photo of your wedding, Seokjin in a navy blue suit, and you in your dress, surrounded by your friends and family.

Growing up, Seokjin had a lot of dreams. A lot of them revolved around being cool, becoming someone worthy of your love. It was strange, but he’d fallen for you instantly the moment you’d rescued him from the locker, but it had taken years of your friendship for him to make a move. He’d always been so scared that his nerdy thirteen year old self would follow him through the years, and that he’d remain someone you never saw as a life partner. But he was wrong. Because you’d fallen for him too, spending years hiding your feelings in the same silly way. The day he married you was the day he’d realized all his dreams had finally come true.

Your soft footsteps come up behind him on the porch, and he turns to see you looking at him with a curious smile on your face. The sun shines behind you, bathing your face in its soft rays, and Seokjin can’t resist, lifting you up as you squeal, kicking your feet and the two of you stumble over the threshold together.

“That was a lot more romantic in my head,” he chuckles, offering you a hand up.

“Jinnie,” you poke his cheek. “Who’s gonna get the boxes from outside now, huh?”

Taking your hand in his, he pulls you further inside with him, wanting to cherish these precious moments with you. The boxes could wait a little longer. For now, he was excited to begin the rest of your life together.

“God, it’s fucking freezing,” you chatter your teeth, feeling Jin pull the blanket tighter around your shivering bodies on the floor. “Why did the heater have to break right before we moved in?”

His warm figure pulls you closer into him until your bodies are smushed together, limbs entangled in a mess.

“Nothing wrong with a little body heat,” he whispers, and even though you can’t see his face, you know he’s smirking.

You turn towards him, ignoring his soft ow! when you punch him in the chest, before burying your face in the crook of his neck. Your eyelids flutter, heavy from the fatigue of moving in all day, but the draft in the house causes you to shiver again in Seokjin’s arms. Looking up at your husband, you find his deep brown eyes focused on yours, his warm, gentle breath fanning against your face.

Seokjin’s fingers reach up to slowly brush a stray hair from your cheek, and despite the cold, you feel your body flush with warmth, bumping your nose against his accidentally before your lips meet Seokjin’s pillowy ones.

You’ve done this a thousand times, but every time feels like the first, Seokjin’s tongue tracing the seam of your lips before he bites at them, drawing a sharp gasp from you.

“Touch me,” you whisper against his mouth, and you feel Seokjin’s grip on your waist get tighter, his hands running up and down your sides until you’re shivering, but not from the cold.

He guides your hips over his, his right hand pushing you down against him until his hungry lips meet yours once again before they drop to mouth at your neck, sucking deep purple bruises into the flesh there, and you bite back a moan.

Seokjin detaches himself from your neck, eyes dark with arousal as he looks at the splotches and faint sheen of saliva on your neck, and you feel a wave of longing rush down towards your core, grabbing his hand that rests on your back and moving it underneath your shirt, cupping your breast in his hands before he squeezes.

From there, the two of you are frantic, fumbling with buttons and kicking your limbs until your clothes fly off, and you giggle at Seokjin’s pyjamas in the corner, the cartoon characters on them resembling miniature versions of your husband. Your laughter is cut off by a sharp groan when Seokjin’s teeth graze your collarbone, biting down lightly.

“You’re perfect,” he rasps, laving at the mark with his tongue. “Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

His fingers trace up your stomach, thumbs brushing against the underside of your breasts before he tugs at your nipples, and you whine, grinding down into his lap. You feel him harden underneath you, and you roll your hips on top of him again, nails scratching down the broad planes of his back.

Seokjin flips you around, caging your body underneath him, his knee pushing up right where you need him, his tongue flattening against your stiff nipple, sucking and teasing the bud until it’s red and aching.

“Need you inside,” you bed him, your hips bucking against his knee while his hand slips between your legs, rubbing slow circles on your clit.

You feel the pressure in your stomach build, your movements stuttering against Seokjin’s fingers. It’s amazing, but it’s not enough, it’s never enough. You need to feel him.

“Look at me,” Seokjin whispers before he pushes himself inside of you, his eyes never leaving yours. You feel so unbelievably full, like you’re going to explode, body scorched with heat and nerves tingling in excitement.

He starts off slow, gently rocking into you, silently asking you if this is okay. His gentleness makes your heart feel like it’s going to explode, the moonlight shining on his skin and bathing him in the softest glow. You feel lucky that he’s yours forever.

You meet his thrusts with circles of your own hips, your back arching up off the blanket as you moan for him to go faster.

“This okay, babe?” His thrusts speed up, snapping into yours, and you’re unable to do anything but slur yes, your voice ringing in your own ears, your moans mingling with his soft groans as the two of you move in tandem, lost in the feeling of each other.

You grip his shoulders tightly, a string of curses exploding from your lips as the pleasure washes over you, your vision going white.

“Come for me ___,” Seokjin’s deep growl has you hurtling over the edge, trembling as you fall apart underneath him. You whine in oversensitivity when he continues moving inside of you, squeezing his hand until he collapses on top of you, his warm cum spilling into your wet heat.

“Fuck,” Seokjin groans, burying his face into your neck. “My back is gonna be so sore when we wake up.”

“Can you believe we’re here?” you ask him, looking into his eyes. “Married, with our own house? We’re so old now.”

You mean it as a joke, but Seokjin presses a kiss to your forehead, his sweaty arms wrapping you up in a tight hug.

“There’s no one I’d rather grow old with,” he smiles, before his expression turns mischievous. “Now, since we can’t sleep anyway, what do you say to getting some milkshakes, Mrs. Kim?”

“That sounds like a great idea, Mr. Kim.”

A/N pt 2: As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

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