#he's an old man who likes prunes

[generalsmemories]

An Immortal's Delight

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: i think jing yuan just needs someone to kiss his worries away to survive another day tbh, he deserves that.

✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, smooches and kisses in the bathtub (scandalous), he's just a tired baby please let him rest and get some cuddles and a pat on his fluffy head. spoilers for the main story in 1.2

✧ a/n: enough attempts on angst as the main genre i want my man happy again for like 3 posts before i attempt again, and i know ya'll want it too. it's cheesy, but HE NEEDS TO HAVE CHEESY MOMENTS PLEASE HE'S BEEN SUFFERING EVERYWHERE ELSE.

Jing Yuan has been submerging himself in the bath without answering your calls long enough for you to grow concernerd. You contemplate for a bit, there's still scrolls of unfinished work sitting by the dining table that you had brought from the Realm-Keeping Commission along with two plastic bags of Immortal's Delight that you bought on a whim while on your way home staring back at you.

Yanqing's not at home. The paperwork can also wait until he's out of the bath and in bed sleeping, and there's no pressing matters at hand for the both of us currently either- with those reasons in mind, you take another sip from your own immortal's delight to savor the taste while it's still cold before walking up to the bathroom door and opening it slowly.

You're immediatey hit with a wave of steam, barely able to make out Jing Yuan's figure amidst the mist. Your husband having an elbow propped up at the edge of the bathtub while resting his cheek on his closed fist. If he heard you come in he doesn't react, eyes closed while the water from the tap still runs, having long flowed over the edge.

Jing Yuan isn't behaving like his usual self lately - not after fate had toyed him like this to make him use two of his ones dearest friends whom he had had once released years back for the sake of Luofu. You can tell, you can see it in the wry smile he sports every day, you can see it in his eyes that flicker with the tiniest of emotions whenever he reports back to you for you to record and in his voice that wavers a tiny bit when he addresses his two old friends as names that are foreign to him.

He's the same general in everyone else's eyes, but in your eyes he's reverted back to his younger self who took on a role far too burdensome on his shoulders all those years ago. He can hide it beneath every meticulous plan and carefully thought out strategies, but you always see through him. You had back then, and you have now as well.

You strip off of your outer robes which leaves you in an undershirt whilst you slowly walk up to him. Making yourself comfortable by the edge of the bathtub, your fingers find the red ribbon that situates his long ponytail and pull it off.

"Darling," you hum, "If you're going to let yourself turn into a prune in here, at least make sure that the ribbon also comes off no?" your hand rests on his left cheek, a silent sign to make him look at you. And Jing Yuan is always obedient around you, opening his eyes to direct his gaze towards you. His other hand comes up to wrap loosely around your own hand, holding it still while he turns his head around to press his lips against your palm, "I would still be quite a handsome prune though, no?" he jokes with an empty chuckle - you're pretty sure his laughs have sounded empty since the stellaron incident first started.

"Debatable," you whisper, gently pulling your hand away to grip the edge of the bathtub, instead leaning down to press your lips against his cheek, "But you would most definitely be the most handsome prune in my eyes."

"That's a relief," he huffs playfully - although there's no playful tone present in his voice. It's numb and automatic, a trained response fitting of the general Jing Yuan of the Xianzhou Luofu. It could've fooled every other person, but not you. He can't fool you after all.

"I thought you had passed out in here, you were taking that long," you emphazise, lips moving from his cheek to kiss across his face, settling on pressing your lips a bit longer on the mole underneath his eyes.

"Mmm, sorry dear," he leans away from his fist, letting you cup his face between your hands while his right arm drops limply over the edge of the bathtub, "It was pretty comfortable in here that I lost track of time."

He never loses track of time.

"Jing Yuan," you call out gently, "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

He doesn't answer immediately, instead averting his eyes from your own as he grows quiet. He's probably contemplating an answer, if you were anyone else he could've easily breezed past the question with a mere acknowledgement that he's fine, but it's you. You're always able to figure him out as fast as his own foresight is able to foresee a necessary plan for a better tomorrow.

He still tries, "I'm fine," he ends up saying, "Just tired," he opens his mouth to add on more details, as if to prove to you he's really just tired, but no sound comes out.

"I know," you whisper, bringing your hand further up his face to brush his bangs away to bump your forehead gently against his, "I know you're tired, dear. But what's gotten you more tired than usual?"

Gently, he lifts a hand from the water up to your wrist. And you're already aware it's a silent request, to which you answer with a small smile and a nod. With a light tug, you get dragged down into the bathtub with your legs dangling over the edge. Jing Yuan had immediately buried his face into your neck, letting out a shuddering breath.

There's no people to care for in this small space, there's no general duties to attend to here and no setting aside his personal feelings or using old connections for his people. In this small space, there's only the feeling of your soft skin against his and the warm press of your lips on his head.

Just like back then after he had come back from defeating his master, after he had witnessed the deaths of his closer friends in battle and the punishment given to another. You're always there at the end of the day - waiting for him.

"Will you tell me what's wrong, dear?" you implore once again, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

"As much as I'm able to keep it hidden at the heat of the moment," he whispers into your neck, taking another shaky breath to which you pat his naked back for, whispering for him to breathe. "I do admit that I once again had a bit of a youthful hope to bring something back from the past that I knew was not plausible."

You merely press your lips to his temple, aware that he's not finished talking judging by the way he takes another deep breath that ends in a low chuckle - a chuckle that sounded a tiny bit more genuine than his previous one.

"... And I think I can still feel the aftermaths of the fight against Phantylia."

"... Well that's no good," you hum. You've been very much aware that Jing Yuan is still recovering from the last battle against Phantylia. His body still weak and food even harder to consume. The little he does consume end up getting thrown back up because: "It feels like my insides are having a battle of its own still," which makes it harder to get Bailu's prescribed medicine down his throat.

You run your fingers down his back a couple of times before leaning away to pull his head out of your neck - he tries to protest, wanting to stay nestled in your neck so he can live inside the personal bubble you've created away from reality. But you're too insistent, gently coaxing him with small pats to his head until Jing Yuan finds himself staring back into your eyes. "In what way can you feel the aftermath?"

He's staring at your lips, "There's a vile taste in my mouth."

Your lips are immediately slotting over his own after that. It's soft, but sweeter than usual. He can taste a hint of brown sugar on your tongue, and perhaps it's because he's not directly consuming it, but he finds it easier to want more. So he leans in for more, grabbing the back of your neck to push you further into him. More, he needs more.

"You're going to swallow me up whole at this rate," you say with a giggle, parting slightly away from his lips and giving them a brief peck when he leaned slightly further into you, "But how did that taste?" you question.

"It tastes like someone's had an Immortal's Delight before coming in here," he jests, "It's good, I like that," he confirms before settling his forehead back on your shoulder.

"That's good, maybe I should drink more of them then before kissing you silly. I'm sure whatever you're eating now paired with Bailu's medicine won't give your tastebuds the best of flavors."

"That would make eating and drinking them a lot easier for my part," he mumbles from your shoulder, "Would have something to look forward to, being that Lady Bailu bans me from drinking such sugary treats at the moment."

You chuckle at the hint of sadness present in his voice, once again wrapping your arms around his shoulders so his senses are filled with your scent. Only then does his shoulders sink in relief - And you know that Jing Yuan will be fine for another day again.

"I can't guarantee that tomorrow will be any better from today," you mumble, "Neither can I guarantee that you won't be faced with a past that you were forced to move on from too soon for the sake of the Luofu," you let go of him to climb out of the bathtub, ignoring your clothes sticking to your skin as you extend a hand towards the man before you who meekly grabs it - squeezing your hand hard upon contact.

"I can however, guarantee that I'll be there waiting at the end of the day every time," you grab one of the fresh towels by the shelves to throw over his head, ruffling his hair slightly, "And take care of you when you want to just be Jing Yuan, and not the Arbiter General of the Luofu," you declare with a smile, "And kiss the vile taste of medicine in your mouth with the flavors of immortal's delight."

Before you can turn around again to grab a new towel to pat your clothes dry, Jing yuan tugs at your wrists and pulls you towards him. A hand coming up to cup your cheek before he bends slightly down to kiss you hard and hungrily. Kissing you breathless like you're all he has left - from back then and now in the present.

He can still taste the sugary drink on your lips - He wants to keep tasting them, he has quite a sweet tooth after all.

"I like the taste of immortal's Delight," he says, pressing his forehead against yours while he gazes at you softly, "So I hope you bought some for me too."

"I did, you can afford one cheat day," you grin, bringing both hands to cup his cheeks before pinching them, "But knowing you, you would still claim it tastes better on my lips, no?"

i- i'm. can someone tell i really love this man. like i want to wrap him in a blanket and say everything's going to be okay, that he can rest now because he's done his job and way more. that he deserves rest as much as the next person- i can volunteer to do that. please.

[smusherina]

bridges burnt - chapter 2 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.

additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)

chapter 1 / chapter 3

You stared at yourself in the mirror. Your suit was still immaculate thanks to your incessant fiddling, adjusting, and pruning. If not for the gel wearing out in your hair and the sweat beading your brow, the illusion was almost believable. Your rings clinked against the sink's enamel, your silver accents glinting in the fluorescent lighting, while a person did their business in the stall behind you. You sighed and washed your hands.

Damn, the soap was nice. They'd really gone all out for the reception, the fall theme extending even to the cinnamon spice soap bars.

Who were you even trying to fool? You were hiding in the bathroom. You'd arrived on the scene of the reception party in relatively high spirits, convinced all was fine and dandy, that Gretchen was looking to make amends in this small way. But you'd been wrong.

The invitation hadn't been a fluke. There hadn't been some mistake, because on the little plaque where your name was scrawled in neat cursive sat another right next to it. On the round table where you'd be sitting, there would be Regina George directly to your left. On your other side would be Shane Oman. Across from you, Damian and Janis.

You stepped out of the bathroom, a lump still firmly lodged in your throat but resolve found. You'd brave it, be an adult about it. The breakup had been perfectly amicable, for the most part anyway, so there was no reason for you to be so wound up.

"The maid of honour is a major bitch." Amanda sidled up to you as you walked towards your table. She directed you to the bar by the arm.

"She won't let us switch?" You asked, dismayed but not surprised.

"She won't even let you move to the spare table," Amanda said indignantly. "The whole time, I swear, she was lookin' me up and down all judgy."

"Ugh," You groaned. "Can she get your strongest drink?" You motioned for the bartender. The man nodded with a smile, seeming relieved to be rescued from the old lady chatting him up. He was a good-looking fella, tattoo sleeves and a military haircut.

"Anything for you?" He asked you, eyes lingering on Amanda shyly. Amanda leered at him unabashedly, batting her eyelashes while he made her drink.

"Just a coke." You'd been sober for a good couple of years now, free of all substances. You'd had a nasty relapse in college, a disgraceful return to party drugs and obscene amounts of alcohol, but you'd been able to find your footing since. Largely due to Amanda's intervention.

"You gonna be alright?" Amanda asked, for now deciding not to make a move on the bartender. You knew she was biding her time, establishing tension before she struck. She picked up men like a shark.

"Sure, yeah. It's gonna be okay. It's just, y'know, my ex. And her ex. And her nemesis and that nemesis' best friend. All good."

Amanda eyed you warily. You sipped at your coke through a straw. She, too, took a large gulp.

By the time the bride and the groom made their entrance, you were sitting in your spot, desperately trying not to make eye contact with the other occupants of the table. Shane was squirming on your right, fiddling with what seemed to be an engagement ring. Janis and Damian, sitting across from you, didn't seem to have changed much, except obviously grown up.

Janis was still unapologetically goth, though seemingly turned more toward clean, angular lines rather than messy, smudged blacks. She had on a dress and a shawl, beaded bangles and silver jewellery covering her wrists. She'd gotten more piercings since you last saw her. Angel bites on her upper lip, a bridge between her eyes, and stretched ear lobes. There were some bold tattoos as well, such as a rose crawling up her neck and the head of a snake on the back of her hand, extending up her arm.

Damian was in a cute, velvety green suit. His shirt, white with light green fleur de lis patterns, had ruffles going down the buttons. The length of its sleeves also surpassed that of the suit's, which made the whole look seem kind of piratey. His natural hair, a poofy afro, the bulky red-tinted glasses, and the pointy boots he had on gave off a bohemian seventies disco star vibe. He had a very specific aesthetic and you couldn't help but be impressed.

The seat on your left was pointedly lacking a person. Only the plaque was there along with its elegant scrawl. You crossed your legs and threaded your fingers together, bracing for the moment somebody said something to you. Or you were forced to do it yourself.

"So..." There it comes. Surprisingly it was Shane, of all people. "You and Regina."

"Huh?" You made a sound.

"I mean, you're here together, right? That's what I heard." He scratched at his neck, seeming nervous. All the confidence and obnoxious self-assurance seemed to have melted off of him.

"No, you- what? Where'd you hear that?"

"Just some nasty gossip. Don't worry about it. Aaron and I know what it's like." He smiled supportively but somewhere in the crevices of his cheeks, it seemed sad. "Have you been out for long?"

Your eyebrows furrowed. Shane and Aaron? Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

"Um, pretty much since high school. To be fair, I didn't tell a lot of people back then. You know how Northshore was." He nodded along solemnly. "But in college I sort of bit the bullet."

"That's really brave. Aaron and I haven't been out for long, only since the new law passed." He still seemed cautious and shy, but talking about Aaron clearly made him happy.

"When did you two get together?"

As Shane began to tell the tale, you slowly began to relax. Maybe Regina wouldn't even show up. If you and Gretchen were estranged, Regina and she were even more so. Regina had never given you details, but you did know Gretchen had been heavily involved in your shitty junior year. They'd had an explosive, very public falling-out that'd led to a whole lot of drama.

By that point, you'd sort of checked out of high school as well as your relationship with Regina, so you'd paid very little attention.

"Oh, here she comes," Shane pointed behind you, cutting off his own story. You whirled around, back crackling as you twisted your spine.

Regina George, in the flesh. Your mouth watered, pupils dilated, and there was no way you could've suppressed your reaction. Her eyes were locked on yours, a predatory glint in her eye as she strutted towards your table.

You almost didn't hear Damian's whistle or Janis' stunned laugh, but as Regina shifted the white fur stole she had to reveal her shoulders and chest, you went wholly deaf to all but the clack of her heels.

She had on a baby pink bodycon dress with a slit sinfully high up on her thigh, satin hugging her hips sensually. She had on white high heels with thin straps at the ankle and fur at the tops of her toes.

Her makeup was natural, with subtle browns and blacks, except for the prominent blush she'd picked. Her hair was a warmer blonde than before, complimenting her tanned skin. She had on golden jewellery, a familiar golden necklace resting on the dip of her clavicles like a taunt.

She kept on advancing towards the table. You could do little else but stare, slack-jawed at the visage of her. Other people were staring too, you could tell. You could only imagine what Gretchen was doing with her face at the moment, perhaps scowling like a pug or maybe looking like she was about to cry. Regina was but a guest and yet...

Regina was never just Regina. You knew that better than anyone. No matter how she dressed, behaved, or what her priorities were, she was an innate presence that influenced those around her. Gretchen inviting her to this wedding was essentially like shooting herself in the foot.

Regina didn't have to try to snatch the attention of the room, but when she did, there was no competition. And Regina had gone all out. You could tell by the movements of her hands, the way her lashes fluttered, and how her mouth parted just a little. It was obvious, at least to you, that Regina was doing what she did best: Revenge.

"Hi, baby," She cooed down at you. You took a moment to react, surprised by how she was suddenly there, right in front of you.

Her hands reached for you, long acrylics brushing against your collar, then your neck, then the back of your neck and in your hair. Her thumbs directed your head to tilt up. She pulled you close as she leaned down and then—peach lipgloss, glittery eyeshadow, saccharine perfume—your skin tingled where she touched you, sparks going off behind your eyelids as they fell closed, bliss pouring out of your pores as you became filled with it.

You kissed her back, took hold of her hips and pulled her to stand between your legs. Fuck, this was bad. But, fuck, it felt good to kiss her again.

Distantly, like someone shouting into the water in which you were submerged, you realized that this was perhaps the worst way, place, and time you could've reunited with Regina.

Even so, you kissed deeper, licking into her mouth until she made a sound you'd so missed all these years. Just as you began debating the pros and cons of laying her down on the table right there in the open, Shane tugged hard on your shoulder.

"What?" You grumbled, turning to him with a glare already in place.

He was red-faced, and frazzled, but had on a wide grin. "Get it, girl, but calm down. The mother of the bride looks like she's about to implode." He inclined his head towards the long table where all the important people sat. The mother of the bride did indeed look to be on the precipice of a furious blow-out.

"Okay," You swallowed, sense slowly coming back to you.

"Ugh, you're such a party pooper, Shane." Regina pulled away, leaving your palms achingly empty. She didn't go far though. She sat down on her chair before reaching into her white Valentino bag and pulling out some napkins. Then, she leaned in again.

Your eyes fluttered closed and lips puckered. Regina laughed.

"Silly, you have gloss all over your face."

"Oh," Your eyes opened. Gosh, that was embarrassing.

Regina wiped your mouth. Then, she pulled out a compact mirror and fixed her own lips. You watched her do all this. She and Shane started chatting. Apparently, they'd been in somewhat regular contact.

You'd just kissed Regina George. After, what, eight or nine years? In front of the whole goddamn venue. In front of Gretchen, in front of Gretchen's family, in front of basically your entire year from high school.

You got up. "Oh, where are you going?" Shane asked, all innocent. You hoped you didn't look as panicked as you felt. He didn't seem to think anything was wrong. You glanced at Regina.

Fuck. She totally knew. Obviously, she knew you. She could read you like a book.

"Smoke. Be back in a few." You fled.

"I'm coming too," Janis said.

Notes: Sorry for the long break everybody! I graduated and had a party for that! Went on a little trip to the countryside with friends! And now, at last, I'm back at my desk and ready to churn out some long overdue chapters.

Taglist posted separately! Comment on that post to get on it if you want!

[gyundo]

“A Meeting I’ll Never Forget”

Lee Jeno (Jeno) x Male Reader!!

SMUT! Interact at your own risk!

Plot: Two princes meet fatefully, and fit each other like a long-lost lock and key

Prince L/N Y/N was the oldest son of the king of Escrow. The Escrowian empire had started with the prince’s great-grandfather, who had risen to power as a mercenary that had fallen out of favor of another kingdom and had come to Escrow to establish his own empire.

Y/N, on the other hand, had no desire to rule over his kingdom. He was obviously going to accept his position as his father’s heir, but the duties didn’t particularly strike him as interesting. Y/N always had a preference for tasks such as cooking, baking, and the arts, such as singing and dancing, which earned him many scoldings from his parents.

Y/N’s parents cursed him on many occasions, explaining to him that his preferences were that of commoners, but it fell on deaf ears. Y/N continued to do as he pleased, and he never attended his swordsmanship lessons or any physical training. This, for a prince, Y/N was quite weak. Although, thanks to the nagging of his father, Y/N was stronger than the average person and did have some minor muscle definition.

As young people often do, Y/N neglected his responsibilities, and for a royal, this was intolerable. As Y/N’s father received an invitation for a meeting, he realized this was the perfect opportunity to put his son in order.

“You will be escorted by my personal order to the Kingdom of Travania in order to attend the meeting on the 25th of this month, Y/N” the King spoke with confidence in his throne room.

“B-but that’s so boring father, why should I sit in a carriage for 5 days with no proper food to go meet some random crusty king in a faraway kingdom?” Y/N complained, in a typical young adult fashion.

“King Jeno is an extremely influential man in his area. You mustn’t forget that your grandfather was from Travania himself. It is in our best interests to make relations favorable between our empire and his kingdom, if we wish to avoid any wars for hundreds of years.” the emperor promptly replied.

“B-but father, I don’t wanna go—,” Y/N whined.

“That’s enough out of you. Remember I’m not just your father but the emperor as well. You will go meet King Jeno. Do whatever it takes to curry favor with him,” the emperor bellowed.

Y/N stomped out of the throne room and ordered his servants to pack his things and prepare the carriage. He knew he didn’t have a choice in the matter and before he knew it, he was sitting in the carriage and already left the capital.

Y/N was angry as to why he had to leave his fun in the palace to go meet a random King who was old and would have nothing to talk about with Y/N. Y/N figured that he would just offer some items that were made by the Escrowian Empire that were sure to pave the way for a trade deal. Y/N was even more frustrated that his father had sent him in his stead.

Little did Y/N know, King Jeno was nothing like what he imagined.

The envoy arrived after a long, treacherous journey that saw many bumpy roads, many forests, and many plains. Y/N was more exhausted than he could describe, and he was everything but jumping for joy when he saw the palace of Travania.

Y/N treaded gracefully, in awe of what he was seeing. Sure, his familial palace in Escrow was large, but the Travanian royal family's estate was lavish in another sense of the word, with large fountains adorned with figures of greek worship. Garlands of roses adorned the edge of the roof of the main palace, which stood so grand Y/N had to turn to be able to see it all. The garden was artfully carved and decorated, with each bush and tree pruned in a most detailed fashion.

Y/N realized that the days-long journey to Travania was worth it from the view itself. Remembering almost as an aside that there was a meeting for which he had came, Y/N walked further to the main gate of the palace.

There, a tall figure stood awaiting him. As Y/N drew closer, he observed the elegant rhinestones embedded in the crown of bearer. He paid attention to each stretch in the royal garment, which stuck to each individual muscle on the man's built body. The biceps, large to the point that the seam was stretched, the pecs, which filled out the top, and the pants, fully conforming to the large thighs made Y/N realize he was in the presence of a man truly fit to be king.

"You must be Prince Y/N of Escrow, your highness. I am King Jeno of Travania. It is with great pleasure I welcome you to our empire and our summit this afternoon," the man spoke with a great smile, reflected in the expression of his eyes.

"Your highness, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance and to be the recipient of such great hospitality. Our nations are sure to grow closer relations from this monumental event," Y/N spoke eloquently while shaking the hand of the other man.

Jeno, not blind to the way Y/N had previously stared him up and down, understood the situation very well. As a show of diplomacy, Jeno transitioned the handshake into a bodily embrace common between royalty of different nations to show closeness. From the viewpoint of others, this was completely normal.

The reality of the embrace was known only by Jeno and Y/N, from the way Jeno reached underneath the cape of Y/N and fondled his buttocks in a way not visible to any. He continued kneading the large protrusions of the prince as he increased his pressure.

Y/N, still in shock from the abruptness and how suddenly these developments had occurred, refrained from any immediate movements and let out a small moan that he thought was only audible to him.

Jeno, however, had also heard the moan and understood that his actions were received well. Letting go of the younger, King Jeno continued, "My attendants will give you a tour of Travanian royal palace while I prepare for our summit. They will lead to the room of our summit after the tour, so you shan't worry, Prince Y/N."

"I stromgly appreciate thy kindness and will sincerely revel in the beauties of your artful palace, King Jeno." Y/N gracefully responded.

The attendants continued to show Y/N around the various areas of the palace, which included hanging gardens, exotic flora collections, the royal bathing chamber, the surrounding farms, and the servant quarters that seemed better than the prince's own bedroom. An hour had elapsed before the head attendant spoke, "King Jeno has finished prepared for your meeting. He awaits you inside these doors and has requested that you enter alone. It has been a pleasure giving you a tour, my liege."

Y/N gave a show of his appreciation and opened the grandiose doors that seemed like that of a bedchamber. He stepped inside quietly, closing the door behind him and expecting to see a large round table with artisan-crafted chairs. Instead, he was met with a large, silk sheet draped over a large mattress, lush purple velvet curtains, and most striking of all, King Jeno dressed in a red robe that unveiled his extremely muscular upper body, with a significant bulge in the clothing covering his private area.

"Ah, I see that you've arrived. We can start discussing matters of interest to us once you take a seat here, my prince," Jeno spoke lustfully.

Y/N, absolutely shocked, but being the honest man he was exclaimed,"Never have I seen such a meeting, but I am more than happy to take you up on your offer, my King."

Jeno looked pleased as Y/N sat down on the bed, embracing him the moment he did. Y/N felt the warmth of Jeno's muscular body on his own, while sensing great pressure from his large muscles in his upper body and his bulge that was separated from Y/N's only by cloth.

The king moved his lips closer to that of Y/N's, looking at his with concupiscent eyes that asked for permission. Y/N, without words, gave his approval by moving his face only slightly forward, to which Jeno responded by firmly crashing their lips together, pushing Y/N down onto the sheet, and rubbing his hands under Y/N's tunic.

Y/N reveled in the pleasure of Jeno's masterful techniques that mingled their tongues together with sounds that could only be interpreted as sinful. Their lips met again and again, with short breaks for air, only to be crashed together as violently as when they first met. Suckling sounds and shared strands of saliva spoke to the passion between the two men as their mouths melted in the pleasure of each other.

Jeno pulled away as Y/N motioned, "Hurry, my King, I feel urges and a steady heat rising in my body. Only you can help me."

With a sly smirk, Jeno replied,"Anything for my guest, my prince," while peeling off Y/N's clothes as he went in to resume their lip lock.

Moments later, a fully naked Y/N was below Jeno, still in his robe, with their legs intertwined and lips connected as the younger felt Jeno's arm around his back and his waist. The two continued making out and enjoying the pangs of pleasure released by the meeting between their lips.

"It's time to discuss the foundations for an alliance," Jeno joked while unbuckling the belt holding his robe on. Y/N looked with nothing but desire at Jeno's large pecs, his well-defined abs, his sculpted shoulders, and his large, perfect dick that was fit for a king. Jeno's cock stood proudly in front of Y/N, with veins and a deep red tip that Y/N wanted to break him. The sheer thickness of his cock made Y/N want to take Jeno forever, who would stretch Y/N and surely leave him crying for mercy.

Jeno understood the desires of the younger well, and not being able to control his own, Jeno flipped over Y/N onto his stomach.

Tapping his cock against Y/N's hole, Jeno heard moans of impatience as he began to slap the prince's hole with a thud that spoke to the weight of his penis. His eight inch cock was sure to break in Y/N quite nicely and leave him unable to live without Jeno forever. This experience would give Y/N such a pleasured pain it would unlock new levels of lust in his brain.

"I see you are well-prepared for this new connection between our nations," Jeno spoke as he observed wetness at the Y/N's opening, speaking volumes to the younger's insatiable appetite.

Jeno, unable to control himself any further, roughly plunged his cock into the deep, moist entrance of Y/N's ass, as the younger let out an audible yelp. The corners of his hole began to slightly bleed to accomdate the first-time stretch.

Overwhelmed from the sudden introduction of seven inches, the thickness of the pole inside him, the pain of his hole ripping slighlty, and the new feeling of being filled, Y/N let out large tears that stained the white sheet below him. Jeno, being the diplomat he was, moved his face closer to Y/N's, cooing at him before encapsulating his lips once again.

The pleasure of the kissing distracted Y/N as the radiating pain from his lower body retreated and only a feeling of fullness remained. Jeno experimented with a small thrust, resulting in an audible moan Jeno heard through their connected mouths. He proceeded to pummel his thick rod into Y/N at a faster pace, enjoying the squeals of the former virgin who felt a constant pressure on his prostate and inside all areas of his passage.

Jeno continued further with a rough animalistic pounding that elicited the arching of Prince Y/N's back and moved him back and forth across the bed with each powerful thrust.

The feeling of the all encapsulating walls of Y/N hugging and squeezing Jeno's cock was emphasized through the various groans the older let out. Y/N was addicted to the pleasure of having his walls filled and stretched out fully, as well as the warmth of the large veiny cock inside him that sent waves of pleasure each time Y/N's prostate was brushed by.

Jeno's thrusts grew more greedy as he became less gentle, eliciting almost musical moans from Y/N, that sounded like he was asking for more. HIs manhood stretched out Y/N's hole fully and gave him a good dicking down that showed a king's true power.

The hilt of Jeno's thick cock smacked Y/N's rim with indescribably pleasureful force that Y/N's eyes could do nothing but roll back. The thought of a large, muscular man, such as Jeno, pounding him with a large cock that fit inside him like a key and satisfied the itch of emptiness inside him that arose earlier in the day led Y/N to a seventh heaven he knew he would have to reach again and again.

"Enjoying my large cock squelching in your boyhole, my prince? Petite little princes like you are designed perfectly for taking a large kingly dick that is far too large for any woman. I'll have you bouncing on my cock and asking for mercy through your moans like this for as long as the two of us live. I'll pound you to the point that you become mine and only mine, my cock is what you'll need to live every single day," Jeno proudly whispered.

The wet sounds of Jeno's large cock infiltrating Y/N's passage, along with their skin slapping together, filled the room with auras of sin and desire.

"UHHH, YESSS, fuck me as rough as you can, your highness. I can't get enough of your large dick, my king, I'm so glad you decided to take me and make me yours, that is exactly what I deserve to be, your cocksleeve and whore," Y/N responded with nothing but pleasure filling his head.

The sounds of sex became more unholy as Jeno's large cock released pre-cum that further lubricated Y/N's walls and increased the squelching, making both more horny as Jeno continued to wreck Y/N's hole mercilessly.

Jeno's golf-ball sized testicles slapped Y/N hard with each thrust, reminding Y/N what a true man's dominance was and felt like inside a bratty boy like him. Y/N wanted nothing more than to succumb to and embrace the fact that he was being manhandled by a true man whom he could never compete with. All he wanted was to be done again and again by Jeno's large cock, be subservient to his desires, be creamed and de-masculinated, and to have his slutty whoreish bussy pummeled like it was asking to be.

Y/N's hole began to slowly comform to Jeno's cock and grow used to it as the thrusts increased, sticking to his massive dick and not letting go of each vein as he pulled out prior to each thrust. Y/N's hole was basically becoming like a real pussy that bulged outwards almost like a flower blooming and reflected each action of Jeno's merciless cock.

Jeno bulged Y/N's stomach with each thrust, rearranging his organs in the process and growing his desire to breed the prince with copious amounts of cum deposited in his hole. Jeno continued to ravage and do Y/N with the sheer girth of his cock that entered Y/N's asshole like a lock fitting in a key. Y/N's prostate was being abused greatly with each rubbing of Jeno's cock's veins against it, resulting in waves of pleasure clouding the minds of both.

Jeno lost control and felt his climax nearing as he pulled out to his glans and pushed over six inches back all in one go for his last thrust, that pushed Y/N over the edge and led to his orgasm while Jeno released multiple spurts of thick cum into Y/N's passage, as a sort of signature on the documentation of their alliance. Jeno continued to push his cock further inside Y/N's hole as each spurt hit Y/N's walls more forcefully, overstimulating the younger. Y/N tiny hole remained stretched well by Jeno's fat cock inside of him that the prince begged to let remain inside.

Jeno reveled in his training of the younger prince and being the one pound and cream his greedy boypussy for the first time, knowing that peace between the kingdoms was secured for all eternity.

"This is a meeting I'll never forget," Y/N sighed with satisfaction while staring at Jeno.

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Flowers (Phantom x GN! Reader) FLUFF

WARNINGS: Recreational smoking 🌿, doesn't go into detail, all fluff, Primo being a dad, Phantom being sweet, cute, and nice. Just a good old innocent mutual crush. Not proofread, sorry if there's any mistakes with keeping it GN, please feel free to let me know if I missed anything so I can correct it!

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

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"Good morning Papa." You greet Primo with a smile, carefully setting down the cup of tea you had brought him on his work bench.

"Good morning il mio Bambino." He responds softly, completely engrossed in his task of pruning one of his many bonsai trees. "When you get a moment my dear would you be able to do me a small favor?" You breathed out an amused sigh. You had been Primo's assistant for a while, enjoying the slow pace of working with the eldest Emeritus brother.

"Papa, you don't need to ask." You giggle, bringing a smile to the older man's face. "Anything you need I'll take care of, don't worry."

"You truly are too good to me." He shoots you a wink causing you to playfully roll your eyes. "There's some produce that needs harvesting in the greenhouse. I was hoping I could have your assistance collecting it all."

"Of course. Let me just make sure I don't have any paperwork to file first." You give his shoulder a gentle squeeze as you pass, leaving him to finish his pruning. You fell into the chair at your desk with a sigh, flipping your letter opener around in your hand to sort through the daily mail. You paused as something caught your eye. A single sunflower sat at the edge of your desk. You picked it up curiously, a smile finding its way to your lips as you spun the stem between your fingers. "Thank you for the flower Papa!" You call into his office. You hear the scraping of his chair against the wooden floor, Primo emerging in the doorway moments later.

You glance over your shoulder as you hear him chuckle. "That flower isn't from me, my dear." He raised an eyebrow at you. "Perhaps you've caught the attention of someone special, hm?" You couldn't stop the blush from spreading across your cheeks as you giggled.

"I doubt that," you state with a wistful tone as you continue to admire the flower in your hand, "I'm pretty plain compared to a lot of the other Siblings. This was probably supposed to be a gift for you if anything."

"I'd like you to keep it regardless." He gently pats the top of your head. "And you are not plain. You have a smile that could light up any room, a laugh so melodic it would rival Cirrus' piano. You're a kind, beautiful soul inside and out. Not to mention your Papa's favorite." He teases with a wink.

"Thank you Papa." He holds out his arm for you to take.

"Come il mio bambino, we have a lot of work to do." You slide your hand into the crook of his elbow, allowing him to prattle on about whatever came to his mind as you made your way to the greenhouse together. No matter the task, working with Primo always managed to put a smile on your face. Over your time as his assistant you had grown quite close to him, Primo had become somewhat of a father figure in your life. The two of you would sit and chat about everything while you worked; filling each other in on the gossip you heard around the Abbey, Primo telling you stories of when he was in his prime, both of you unwinding with a nice cup of tea at the end of the day in his cozy office. Today was no different. You were both droning on about how, somehow, Sister Imperator had been even more stern than usual lately.

"Maybe you should offer her a joint, it might help her stop being so uptight all the time." Primo chuckles at your statement.

"You might be right, I heard she used to be quite the stoner in her day." You both paused at the sound of the greenhouse door slowly creaking open. Primo began to stand, you motioned for him not to trouble himself.

"I'll go see who it is Papa, it's probably just one of the Siblings from the kitchen." You rise with a groan, meticulously pulling off your work gloves before stuffing them into your pocket. As you approached the entrance you were met with the sight of a Ghoul curiously looking over the plants. He froze the moment he picked up on your presence, like a child getting caught doing something they weren't supposed to be. His shoulders relaxed as he realized it was you who emerged from the greenery and not the eldest Emeritus. "Phantom?"

"Hey." He returns your greeting with a sharp smile, fangs glinting in the bright afternoon sun that glimmered through the glass roof. "I was sent to ask Primo about some of his tea." He nervously shifts his weight between his feet.

"Oh, he's right back here actually." You motioned for him to follow you. Phantom takes a couple long strides, allowing himself to walk by your side. "You help in the greenhouse too?" He asks genuinely. You nod, giving him a small smile.

"I work pretty much wherever Primo needs me." You chuckle softly. "If I'm being honest I'd rather be out here than at my desk, it gets awfully stuffy in there sometimes." You whisper to him, as if it was a secret just for the two of you. You found Primo still diligently harvesting the produce you had left him with. "Papa, Phantom needs to ask you about some tea."

"Papa," Phantom bows his head slightly in a polite greeting, "Copia sent me. He's having, uh… that problem again. He said you'd know what I meant." His eyes widened slightly as he waited for Primo to remember what particular ailment he was referring to.

"Right," Primo claps his hands together. "I'll go grab the senna." Once Primo is out of view Phantom's attention immediately shifts back to you.

"What are you two harvesting?" You smile at his curiosity, aside from Primo and the other Siblings that helped in the gardens no one ever seemed interested about the work you did in here.

"Berries mostly." He trails closely behind you as you return to the plant you had been previously seated in front of. "The raspberries came out wonderful this year, I don't think we've ever had this big of a crop." Phantom kneels next to you in the dirt, eyes darting between your hands as they worked and your face.

"Can I ask a silly question?" He inquires sheepishly.

"There are no silly questions." You give him a reassuring smile, gently bumping your shoulder against his.

"What do raspberries taste like?" You paused. You had gotten so used to seeing Phantom dart around the Abbey that you had forgotten he had only been summoned a little while ago. Something as simple and well enjoyed by you he had never experienced before.

"Would you like to try one?" He nods eagerly. You search through the bush, looking for the best looking berry you could find. You carefully held it between your fingers as you offered it to him. "Now, I'm going to warn you, they have seeds and they're kind of fuzzy." He squints at the fruit, bright violet eyes analyzing it closely. He takes the berry between his teeth, taking extra care to make sure his fangs didn't accidentally graze your fingers. He chewed it slowly, eyes never leaving your face.

"It's good… sweet." He smiles proudly at his small triumph. His gaze travels to the top of your head. "You, uh, have a leaf." He points to your hair. You attempt to brush it away on your own but you could tell by the expression he was giving you that it was still there. He cautiously reaches towards you, untangling it from your strands before discarding it on the ground. His eyes scan over your features, a smile coming to his lips as he brushes the disturbed hair back into place. "Beautiful." You let out a flustered giggle. You both jump as Primo speaks up.

"This should take care of Copia's problem." He holds out a jar of herbs to Phantom. Seeing both of your bashful states he pauses. "I'm not interrupting anything am I?" He gives you a smug grin.

"No Papa, we were just talking." You nervously fidgeted with your fingers as you spoke.

"Thank you for the tea Papa. (Y/N), hopefully I'll see you soon." He flashes you another dazzling smile before making his leave. You couldn't stop your eyes from trailing after him as he left, turning back to Primo once he fully stepped out of sight. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the shit eating grin he wore 

"Don't look at me like that." You tried to hide your flustered state.

"I see we fancy ourselves a Quintessence Ghoul, do we?" He returns to the plant at your side with a laugh.

"We were just talking Papa." You reiterate again to try and get your point across.

"Just talking wouldn't cause the two of you to jump like that my dear. I've witnessed my fair share of crushes in my day, it's nothing to be ashamed of." He addresses the matter casually.

"Papa!" You exclaim through a giggle. 

"Fine, fine." He accepts defeat, holding up his hands in surrender. "But, when you do finally come to terms with the fact you're attracted to him, I'll be here to talk." He smiles patiently.

You laugh and shake your head, "I don't have a crush on Phantom, it's just…" you trailed off for a moment. You couldn't exactly put into words how you felt. You had always been pretty close with all of the Ghouls, so when the newest members were summoned you were one of the first to be introduced. When you had first met Phantom he was timid, still feeling somewhat awkward in his more humanoid form.

"Walk me through what you're thinking tesoro, maybe I can help you sort things out." You both kept busy as you talked, knowing if you actually allowed yourself to focus on the words spilling from your lips you would end up overthinking.

"He's very easy for me to talk to. It took me a while to form the friendships that I have, but with him it almost felt effortless. The first night I met him there was something about him that was just so… captivating. He was unlike any person or Ghoul I had ever met." You explain.

"You two definitely seemed to hit it off pretty quickly. Up until he met you I don't think I had ever really seen Phantom interact with any of the Siblings, he mostly kept to himself. Perhaps there are a few members of his pack he's close to, but compared to the rest of Copia's Ghouls he seems a bit reserved." Primo remarks.

"That's the thing Papa… he's not." You thought back to one of the times it had just been the two of you. "Phantom is loud, boisterous, confident." His infectious laugh echoed through your memories, bringing a smile to his face. It wasn't uncommon for Phantom to coincidentally stumble across you smoking alone in the garden, enjoying the twinkling starlight as the pungent smell of herb filled the air. Being with him only added to the dizzying head rush you had. Gazing into his eyes felt like you were running through a field of lavender, his fingers bumping against yours making your pulse thrum in your ears, entirely consumed by the image of him mere inches away from you. The two of you in your own world together as you resisted the urge to lean into him. You were snapped from your day dream as a thorn pricked your finger, you winced slightly, letting out an exasperated sigh as reality set in once more. "Him and I just get along really well, that's all." Primo just smiled knowingly. He had seen that far off look in your eyes many times before; pining Siblings stumbling into his confessional to pour their heart and soul out to him over a friend who they swore would never be anything more than just that. You didn't say much for the rest of the afternoon, the memory of Phantom playing repeatedly in your mind as you tried to convince yourself none of that mattered.

"I'll see you in the morning." Primo waves over his shoulder as the two of you part ways in the halls. You headed back to his office, having a few things to check on before fully retiring for the evening. You look behind you as you hear another set of footsteps join your own in the empty corridor. You were a bit surprised to see none other than the Ghoul occupying your every thought round the corner. You smile at the sight of him, pausing to let him catch up.

"Copia wanted me to bring Primo a thank you note for the tea." You found yourself shoving your hands deep in your pockets, the slight brush of his hand against yours sending a jolt through your body, causing you to have an urge you didn't dare give into.

"Primo decided to turn in a little early tonight…" you trail off, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. "But, I am heading down to his office now. I wouldn't mind the company if you'd like to walk with me."

"I would love to." He smiles down at you. You blush, quickly darting your eyes down to your feet so hopefully he wouldn't catch your flustered expression. "You seem nervous." You remarked how that was a statement, not a question. You flashed him your most convincing smile, trying to shove your anxiety away so he wouldn't worry.

"It's just been a long day. I'm not really feeling fully… myself, I guess." You found yourself wanting to be honest with him the more you spoke. There was something about being with him that made you feel so undeniably safe that you couldn't lie about how you were feeling. The question flashed through your mind about whether or not Quintessence Ghouls possessed some type of mind control power to make you tell the truth. You noticed him glance over at you out of the corner of your eye. "I promise it's nothing to worry about." You slid into your chair as you arrived at Primo's office, Phantom perching himself on the edge of the desk at your side.

"Have you eaten?" He suddenly chimes. Your stomach decided to answer before you had a chance to, giving off a low angry growl over your hunger. "I'll take that as a no." Phantom chuckles. You return his laugh as you open some of the new letters that had appeared on your desk. You groaned as you recognized Sister Imperator's neat script.

"What now?" Phantom's brow furrowed at your distress. "Great, another meeting with Nihil, Papa's going to be thrilled." You drop your head into your desk with a groan. You felt Phantom's warm head slide across your back, rubbing soothing circles in between your shoulder blades. You reluctantly picked up the receiver of the old rotary phone, dialing the number for Primo's quarters as you propped your chin up in your hand. "Hi Papa." He sighed at the tone you greeted him with, already knowing what was in store for him. "We have a meeting with your Father." You held the receiver away from your ear as a loud string of Italian curses exploded out of it. "I'll be there in ten minutes." You inform him before hanging up. "I'm sorry to run off-"

"It's alright." He cuts you off, grimacing slightly as he realized he had done so. "Are you going to be in the garden tonight?"

You nodded slowly, "probably. I'm sure I'm going to need to unwind after this." You stand with a groan. You collect your belongings, smiling at Phantom as you turn to leave. In a moment of boldness, more than likely brought in by the aggravation of having to deal with Sister, you paused. "These meetings usually take about two hours. I'd really like to see you tonight if you have time."

"I'll be there." He responds eagerly. You try your best to hide your excited smile as you hurry off to meet Primo. The second you entered his quarters he noticed your change in attitude.

"Well, what do we have here? You seem awfully happy my dear." You met Primo's gaze in his reflection. His papal paint half done, still dressed in his gardening clothes. "Might I venture a guess this has something to do with a certain Ghoul?" You knew there was no lying to him in your current state.

"I may or may not be seeing Phantom after our meeting tonight." You spit out your statement hurriedly, knowing he was going to make a big deal about it.

"Hm," he hums, grinning at you, "sounds like a nice little date to unwind after a stressful day, no?" You haphazardly comb your fingers through your hair, trying your best to appear somewhat decent.

"It's not a date Papa, just two friends meeting up." He chuckles at your response.

"Tell me tomorrow if your feelings on that subject have changed." You breathe out a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief for how sure he was of himself. You helped him shrug into his Papal robes before heading to the never ending meeting. Every second felt like an hour, your eyes practically glued to the clock as you waited for the meeting to come to a close. 

"You are dismissed." The second Nihil groaned out the words you bolted for the door, not missing Primo's amused expression on your way out. You headed straight for the garden, expertly winding your way to the spot where you and Phantom always managed to run into each other. A smile instantly spread across your features at the sight of him. He had set out a blanket in the pathway, a small spread of various foods set out for the two of you.

"What's all this?" You ask with a soft laugh as you approach him.

His eyes darted to the ground nervously, you noticed him swaying on his heels slightly as he spoke. "Well, I know you haven't eaten so I wanted to bring you some food. I didn't know what you liked so I asked Mountain and well…" He trails off, motioning to the spontaneous picnic. "I was thinking maybe you and I could have some dinner together?" 

"I would love to have dinner with you, Phantom." He beams at your response, excitement immediately overtaking his nerves as he motions for you to sit. You sat and talked with Phantom for hours, your body and mind feeling lighter the longer you spent with him. As time passed the two of you eventually cleared off the blanket, opting to lay side by side to gaze up at the stars, a lit joint passed between the two of you. You watched the smoke curl high into the air, the warmth of Phantom's body seeking into your shoulder.

"I really like spending time with you." He speaks up suddenly. You blush at his statement, feeling his fingers ghost over yours both of your hands intertwined carefully. You didn't need to respond, he knew you felt the same way. The two of you took turns pointing out different constellations you recognized until, eventually, you decided you should probably get back to your dorm. Phantom's fingers remained intertwined with yours as he stood, hoisting you from the ground after him. You stumble slightly, falling into his chest. You felt the quick, steady rhythm of his heartbeat under his palm. His free hand lands on your waist to steady you. Your eyes snapped up to his, they glowed a beautiful violet in the moonlight.

"Sorry." You giggle nervously. He chuckles, giving your waist a gentle squeeze.

"No need to apologize, are you alright?" You nod, both of you blushing and mumbling out an apology as you realized you were still holding onto each other, taking a moment to separate. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence through the halls until you reached your dorm. You stood across from each other in front of your door, nervously swaying in your heels. "That was fun, maybe we can do that again sometime."

"I'd like that." Both of you searched for something, anything at all to say, to stay with each other just a few moments longer. But nothing came to mind. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." He smiles at you, beginning to turn away. You reach out, catching his wrist in your hand. He looks back at you, a hopeful expression in his eyes. You stand on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Goodnight, Phantom." You take one final glance at him before you slip into your room. You fell into your bed with a sigh, dragging your hands down your face. "He's so handsome." You groan to your empty room. You let your arms fall out to the side, staring blankly up at your system as you remembered Primo's words from earlier. "I've witnessed my fair share of crushes in my day, it's nothing to be ashamed of my dear." You grimaced, that old man really could read you like an open book. You got ready for bed, dreading talking Primo tomorrow that he was right. But you needed advice. You had never taken the whole romance thing into consideration. Sure, you had dated a few people in the past, but none of those relationships really went past the honeymoon phase or initial hookup. You could already tell that if by some miracle Phantom did reciprocate your feelings this wouldn't be a simple fling. You woke with a start, getting into your overalls as you prepared for a long day weeding the flowerbeds. As you entered the garden you found Primo already waiting for me, a cup of tea waiting for you on the bench next to him.

"Good morning il mio bambino." He greets you with a smile. "These were left on your desk this morning." He picked up three white roses, all tied together with a purple ribbon.

"Was there any note?" He shook his head. You held the flowers to your nose, inhaling their sweet scent with a smile. "I'm going to put these in some water." You quickly run to the greenhouse, placing the blooms in a vase so you could take them home later before returning to Primo. You picked up the tea cup he had set out for you, sitting by his side and enjoying the stillness of the early morning air.

"So, how did last night go?" He prods.

You sigh, "it was perfect, I don't know what else to say about it." You chuckle.

"Are you still trying to keep up the façade that you're just friends?" He asks before taking a long sip of his tea.

"As much as I would like to, I don't think I can." You admit with a bashful laugh. "I've definitely got a bit of a crush on him." You spent a good portion of your morning catching Primo up on the events of the night prior.

He looks at you with an amused smile, "dare I say I think he might be feeling the same towards you my dear." He grins.

"I hope so, I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to hide this from him." Primo collects your cup from you as you finish your drink.

"Well you'll have plenty of time to think things over tesoro. Enjoy the flirting, romance is supposed to be fun, you should be basking in the glow of young love." You blush, shaking your head as you playfully roll your eyes. 

"I'm going to get started out here, I'll come check on you in a couple hours." He pays your head before heading to his office.

"Don't work too hard." He calls over his shoulder as he disappears from the garden, allowing you to get to work.

"Well what do we have here." You jump slightly as Mountain bounds up beside you, a basket of vegetables perched on his hip. 

"Hey Mount." Your hand claps into his as he helps you out of the dirt.

"Primo's got you on weeding duty today?" He asks, a bit confused. Weeding was usually a job saved for new Siblings, Primo believing in a hierarchy of sorts until they got settled in.

"I needed a task that would let me reflect on my feelings." You preach back to him in your best Papa impression. "He's had some suspicions that are proving to be correct."

"Everything alright?" He motions for you to walk with him.

"Yeah." You trail off for a moment. "If I tell you something, can you promise it'll stay between us?"

"Of course, you know you can always talk to me." He nudges you.

"So, there's been someone leaving flowers on my desk the past couple days. Which is super sweet, but I need to find out who it is. Recently I've… come to terms with the fact I have feelings for someone." You chose your words carefully, hesitant to give away who the object of your affection was despite the fact you knew you would end up telling him regardless. "Then on top of that I don't want to say anything to this other person because they might not feel the same."

"First off, I wouldn't worry about confessing your feelings. You're amazing, whoever it is would be so lucky to have earned your affection. Regardless of the answer I'm sure everything will work out for the best. And if you want to know who's getting you flowers, maybe hideout in the greenhouse, they're bound to show up sooner or later." You nodded, that wasn't a terrible plan. "Now, the real question is, who's your secret crush?" He asks in a teasing tone.

"Promise you won't say anything?" You felt ridiculous, you felt like you were in high school all over again. You were a grown adult acting like a teenage girl. Yet you couldn't help the butterflies that erupted in your stomach at the mere thought of him.

"You have my word." Mountain promises.

"It's Phantom." He pauses, looking down at you with the biggest smile. "What?"

"You have to tell him, the two of you would be such a great couple!" You attempt to stutter out a response, Mountain's bluntness getting you completely fluttered. "Seriously though, I think it would be worth a shot telling him. You never know, maybe he could've been your secret admirer the whole time." He chuckles before the two of you parted ways. You headed to Primo's office, already having gotten a good deal of weeding done today. You pushed through his office door with a groan.

"Good afternoon my dear." He greets you jovially despite not looking up from his paperwork. A pair of thin, wire framed reading glasses sat perched on the end of his nose.

"Afternoon Papa, do you need me to take care of anything?" You refill his glass of water in his desk.

"Actually there is, I have a stack of hymns that need to be returned to the music hall. It took me a while to decide which ones I wanted for mass this week." He chortles. You accepted the stack from him with a smile. "When you return we'll have so tea, I believe you're due for a break."

"Of course Papa, I'll be right back." You read through the stack of sheet music as you walk through the halls, humming the melodies presented before you. You kicked open the door to the music hall with your foot. Your ears were instantly met with an all too familiar tune. You glanced up to find Phantom perched at the edge of the stage, his usual black guitar resting comfortably over his thigh as he rehearsed by himself. You sit yourself in one of the chairs in the room, watching as his fingers effortlessly moved across the fret board. He jumped slightly when he noticed you were there.

"Now how did I end up with such a pretty audience." He flashes his fangs at you as a wide grin spreads across his features.

"No matter how many times I see you play you always amaze me. You're so talented." You compliment him, earning a bashful chuckle that made your heart flutter in your chest.

"Thank you." He stands, slowly striding over to you. "Now what brings you all the way down here." You held up the stack of papers.

"Primo needs these returned." Phantom takes the stack from you, knowing howuch of a pain organizing hymns tended to be.

"Want some help? I'm pretty familiar with how Cumulus has it set up in here." He offers.

"That would be great, I'd be here all night doing this by myself." You joke. Phantom clicks on the radio, some oldies station buzzing to life. He slings an arm over your shoulder, guiding you to the filing cabinet where the hymns were stored. Phantom seemed much more relaxed than normal today. He was consistently making jokes, the two of you idly chatting as you sorted everything away. "I love this song!" You exclaim, turning up the volume of the radio. You swayed around the room, humming along with the tune. Phantom chuckles at your excitement. He sets his remaining sheet music down, stepping closer to you so he could pull you towards him. You laugh, letting your fingers intertwine with his as the other slides over his shoulder. The two of you swayed along with the rhythm, Phantom giving your waist a gentle squeeze as he smiles down at you. He spun you around, causing you to giggle. "I didn't know you could dance."

"I wanted to learn to impress someone I like." He winks at you, both of you letting out bashful laughter.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I need you for band practice." Sodo leans against the doorframe, eyes darting between the two of you. Phantom reluctantly released his hold on you, holding your hand a few moments longer than necessary before joining the other Ghoul.

"I'll see you soon." He promises.

"Bye Phantom." You smile at him, waving to Sodo as they both leave. You finish filing away the hymns, clicking off the radio before heading back to Primo's office. The rest of the day passed in a blur, the feeling of Phantom holding you close clouding your every thought. You had decided to take Mountain's advice of waiting in the greenhouse, wanting to tell your secret admirer that you already had your eye on someone else. So, once you had said goodnight to Primo, you slipped out into the gardens in hope of capturing the mysterious florist in the act. You hid in a relatively secluded corner, tucked away behind some lush bushes where you couldn't be seen. Luckily you didn't have to wait long for them to show up. You heard their soft humming approach where you were. The soft snips of pruning shears as they collected their flowers. Your eyebrows knitted together as you realized that this was a voice you recognized. You peeked out from your hiding place. You smiled softly at the sight before you, stepping out into the open, you cleared your throat.

Phantom's eyes shot up to you, he froze as he realized he had been caught. He looks nervously between you and the flowers he held in his hand. His mouth fell open but no words came out at first. When, finally, through all his nerves he actually takes a moment to look at you. Your whole face lit up with a smile, eyes searching his face as you waited for him to say anything. He couldn't believe how cute you looked as you nervously wrung your hands. He stands, offering a small bouquet of red chrysanthemums. "I'm assuming you've been getting my flowers." He chuckles. You carefully take hold of the bunch, gazing it down in awe before placing them off to the side. Your body moved purely on instinct, arms sliding around Phantom's waist as you pulled him into a hug. He tenses up for a moment before wrapping you tightly in his embrace.

"They've all been beautiful." You mumble against his chest. You slowly separated from each other, his gaze catching yours. He smiles warmly at you, those gorgeous, glowing purple eyes causing you to melt.

He gently takes your chin between his fingers. "I feel… strange whenever I'm around you." He admits, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Strange how?" You ask through a smile, laughing as he tugs you closer.

"Sweaty mostly." He jokes. "You make me nervous in a good way." He continues to ponder out loud. "My heart starts to beat really fast, and all I can think about is reaching out to hold you… what kissing you would be like." You blush at his admission.

"You're more than welcome to find out for yourself." Your voice shook as you spoke, a soft breathy laugh punctuating your statement. His thumb ran over your bottom lip, his eyes tracing over every detail of your face.

"I'm sorry if I'm not any good at this." He chuckles.

"Just follow my lead." You tease, your hands sliding up his chest and into his hair as he closes the distance between the two of you. His lips crashed into yours. A satisfied hum left your lips as you pushed your body into his. He held you tightly, as if he let you go you would disappear before his eyes. The kiss started out slow, you slowly guided him through the motions. You had found out that Phantom was a very quick learner. His pace gradually increased, the kiss growing more passionate by the second as he grew addicted to the feeling of your lips on his. You pulled back with a gasp, both of you panting softly. You didn't even have time to catch your breath before Phantom's lips were back on yours, earning a surprised squeak as he pulled you flush against him one more. He pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged.

"That was nice." He chuckles. He places another few short pecks to your lips causing you to laugh softly.

"Does this mean you won't be bringing me flowers anymore?" You laugh.

"Sweetheart, I'll bring you flowers everyday if you want me to." He says with a smile as he pulls you in for another passionate kiss.

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

Tag List: @spookyghostjelly @ramblingoak @kissingghouls @mustluvecho @belnovacaine @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @herripinkle @iamsarahsaysso @fleagutz @jennmakesitweird @gothdaddyissues @i-fondued

[catiuskaa]

Yeah, Flowers Follow.

You have always been committed to your duty at your mom's flower shop since she got hurt carrying bags of dirt over a month ago. It was mostly just you and the flowers, until he barged in one day, slapped 20 bucks on the countertop and with a passive-aggressive tone, asked: "How do I say fuck you in flower?"

because seo changbin + fluff will always have me in a chokehold. And a flower au? fuck yea, bring it on, babe.

inspired by this pin which I'll link here

edit: omg guys you loved this so much I just couldn't resist making a part two, still, this can be read as a stand-alone, although I hope you guy's like this one as much as its 'second part', which I'll link here

Word count: 5k. Binnie isn't mean, ok? He's just emo and tough-looking. And kinda introverted. fluff fluff fluff. swearing. kinda horny towards the end, but no spice added. Lol

You wiped your sweat from your forehead, rolling your sleeves up with a huff as you took back in your hands a big old water can. You watered the lilies and small ivies that remained outside of the flower shop, quickly waddling back inside for more water.

Your mother was usually the one who took care of Lilac, the flower shop. At first, it had been her and your aunties, but it all flew away after your grandma's passing. You had been young, so much that your memories of the time were mostly made of blurry faces that were not present in your life to this day. Your mom had been okay taking care of the small flowery world she built, but an accident with a heavy bag of dirt over a month ago made you complain. She reluctantly let you handle the store until her back got better, which was coming along slowly.

After watering the plants, sweeping the floor, pruning the bonsais, and preparing the several bouquet orders you had for the day, you ran out of things to do, settling to play some jazzy music while you reviewed your class’ notes as you waited for clients.

Your evening was quite calming. Clients came in like droplets, so the shop never felt too crowded. Most of them asked for flowers for their loved ones, some even speaking about their partners, how they had met, or the dates they were excited to have.

It was cute. You had always been fond of the small flower shop and shared the interest with your mom, reason why you didn't care about taking the lead for a while or doing your homework there. You loved the way the flowers brought people together, and the stories and meanings that they had behind them.

Just as you figured out the answer to that one question you had been stuck on, the bell rang, indicating someone's presence inside. Someone that approached you in a rather passive-aggressive manner.

"How can I say 'fuck you' in flower?"

Words that you had never imagined coming out of someone's mouth —which was something, considering the wide range that your imagination could reach sometimes—.

You carefully observed the man's gestures, who didn't stop scanning the place. Years spent helping out at the flower shop had given you a kind of sixth sense, one that allowed you to easily see through people's appearances.

"Do you have anything in mind, or do you not care as long as it is full of loathing?" You inquired with a sweet smile.

Changbin found himself suddenly falling into the harmony of your eyes without realizing it. You quickly left the books on the shelf under the counter, lowered the music and turned to him. Your eyes rested on his, brown and limpid, to which he adopted a belligerent posture in response, an action that —to his surprise— did not unsettle you. He quickly shook his head, focusing on the anger that remained inside of him.

"Make it striking. Something so colourful that can even hurt to look at." You giggled.

"Intense." He held back a smile, his lips twitching. "One second."

He stared at your figure as you went to the small workshop behind the counter. The feeling that Changbin had at first had nothing to do with what he was perceiving at that time. A pleasant floral smell, mixed with mint and lavender essence filled the building. It wasn't only the exquisite aroma that captivated the man, but the beautiful colourful landscape that that small establishment hid. The white wood decoration made any bouquet or flower pot stand out as if it were the icing on a cake. The large windows allowed a large amount of light to enter, and they gave amplitude to the small place.

It was a beautiful place, but strange. Peculiar, for sure, and it was due to the chromatic order of its flowers. Sorted by colour scale, regardless of the species. The red roses were with the poppies, the tulips with the clivias and the orange jasmines. The ferns, aloe vera and fittonias were also together, despite having nothing to do with each other. The coves, cherry blossoms and hydrangeas shared a common space that at first glance, they should not have. It was a beautiful chaos, but it was still a floral hustle and bustle.

"Do you like it?" You asked sweetly when you came back.

"It's not bad." He replied vaguely. "It's..." Ravishing "...small."

From his attitude and the way he studied the place, almost as if he expected some kind of danger to appear among the pots and leaves, some would say he was not to be messed with, but to you, he looked like someone rather shy and quite sceptical, nothing to do with what he might seem as, considering that tattooed bad-guy build and the killer stare that he carried around. A thought occurred that his somewhat murderous look did not allow him to say what he really thought.

Nevertheless, you could agree with him. Not only was it a small store, but it was a disarray of varieties. Nevertheless, to Changbin, above all, feeling watched all the time was something he was used to, yet your stare felt different, making him feel more goosebumps the longer he was under your eager gaze. He couldn't help it, but when you looked at him so kindly, he felt strange.

He wanted you to stop looking at him.

"Orders arrive on Wednesdays," you mentioned, already arranged behind the counter. "Shop opens at nine, so feel free to arrive whenever. I will need more flowers for your bouquet, so until then, I'm afraid I can't have it. Either that or..."

Changbin interrupted you. He couldn't stand to have those deep-coloured eyes immersing in his own.

"Wednesday is fine." He said in a huff.

You smiled, dimples on display. "Okay! Then as long as you stop by on Wednesday, we can arrange the bouquet. I'll be here, spraying water to the chrysanthemums, alliums and hydrangeas."

Changbin felt his chest tighten, his eyes wandering around your features, your dimples, your lips. He stopped himself, took back his cash almost in a hurry, and left almost as quickly as he had arrived.

"See you then, and thanks for shopping in Lilac!"

[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]

Wednesday. The delivery truck was parked on the street facing the back of the store to unload the flowers you had ordered for the week.

To your surprise, Mystery —the nickname you had chosen for him, that sounded way better than 'fuck you flower boy'— came back precisely at nine am, and again, surprisingly enough, he wasn't alone.

He looked way more relaxed with his friend, the anger that almost shocked you looking long gone as his features didn't remain tense.

The bell rang as you were preparing the workshop for the arrival of the many flowers.

"Wow, this place is lit." His friend had good taste, judging by what you could hear.

"Thank you!" You mentioned with a cheeky smile, startling both men when you came out of nowhere. "Sorry, the truck’s outside, but I’ll be here in a minute."

You approached the delivery guy, who was opening the truck and setting the ramp so lowering the different flowers wouldn’t be too hard.

“Hey, Jerry!”

A comfortable chat took place between the two, who had met each other several times ever since your mom got hurt.

Inside, another conversation was happening. “Remind me, what are we waiting for, buddy?” Han asked as he wandered about in the colourful building.

Changbin sighed, frustrated at the reminder.

“The boss said something the other day I didn’t like. As a matter of fact, I despised it,” he grunted. “He looked at my desk and saw the bouquet I kept there, the one we got for that other show, you know?” Han hummed, paying attention. Weirdly enough, Seo’s eyes never left the backdoor you had gone through, not even when he continued. “So he mentioned how untidy my desk looked, how disgusting it would look when the flowers died, and hinted that flowers would look way better in his studio. It made me fucking angry. I don’t care if no one likes you that much to give you pretty flowers.” Han cleared his throat, allowing Changbin to return from his hating cloud. “Yeah. Uh. So we’re here to plan his bouquet.”

“Sheesh, I get that. The boss can be such an asshole sometimes.” Jisung mentioned vaguely. “But why nine am?”

Because I needed the excuse to see her. “I want to get this over with. If I’m lucky, he’ll even brag about the flowers.” He smirked, hiding his true intentions.

He suddenly heard some giggles through the door you had crossed. Han arched his brows.

“So you offered to pay for coffee and takeaway tonight for me just so I’d come with you here only to get flowers for the big man? Really?” He said, faking innocence as he settled his elbows on the counter, holding his cheeks in his hands, almost like a toddler.

He gave Han a side-eye. He shrugged. “Give me one more sign, and I might start thinking that…”

Bin covered his mouth. “Don’t. And that also goes to don’t lick it, or I’ll make sure Minho air fries you.”

Jisung lifted his hands, giving up. “I wonder what’s going on back there.” He smirked, teasing.

Changbin didn't want to flutter around you two, but he knew that putting the flowers in the store wasn’t that hard. He clenched his jaw unconsciously.

"If I had known that you were looking for an employee, I would have come running," said the boy, putting his cap back. “If you are looking for more staff, you know where I am.”

"It's very kind of you, but I never looked for anyone in the first place. Mom wouldn’t even dare to accept it,” you laughed. “Also, I wouldn't bother you knowing that you have your own trade. In addition, I get to put my skills to the test, but I can get quite moody sometimes. I bite, you know.”

He arched an eyebrow. "Don't worry about any of that. Working with you would be a thousand times better than distributing flowers throughout the city.”

Maybe it had been how you laughed or the snarky reply he had just heard, but Changbin needed that man to leave. Now.

Your eyes landed on that buff silhouette who entered the inside of the truck. Seo continued to unload the flowers. You tried to finish the conversation, but the guy wouldn’t stop talking while there was a client of yours doing your fucking job. You grew tired of Jerry, and you got up inside the trunk, willing for the man to take a hint and leave already.

Han couldn’t believe his eyes.

"Oh, please don't," Jerry went up too. "I'll take care of moving the plants.”

"Don't worry, it's the last one.” You tiredly smiled at him.

You took the remaining bouquet and got out of the truck behind Seo while the delivery guy wondered when the flowers had been unloaded. You quickly said your goodbyes before you returned to the counter.

"Thank you for lowering the flowers, it was not your job yet you did it anyways,” you smiled shyly as you started preparing the table in front of you with different sorts of labels plus the diferent tools you needed. “Sorry for the wait.”

“You’re fine. Don’t worry.”

Han stared blankly at the man who scolded him singlehandedly every day he was late to the studio just by a minute. He then stared back at you, then at his friend.

No bloody way. Holy shit.

"For your order, I found something the other day I though you might enjoy," your smile widened, your eyes like crescent moons as you handed him a small book.

“Oh.”

It was an old copy of a book that read “The Language of Flowers.”

“Maybe you could search up in the insults chapter if you see any meaning that you think could suit.”

He looked at you and quickly back to the book so he wouldn’t drift away in your eyes like days ago.

“Yeah, fine.”

Changbin was not very talkative, but the bitter tone with which he spoke was unusual. Han could tell, years of knowing the man allowed him to feel a bad mood in the way he communicated. His gaze was more frivolous than usual, and he squeezed his lips as if he didn't want to say anything. Shockingly to him, you noticed and were unable to let it go.

"Is something wrong?" You questioned softly. “Are you upset?”

Changbin hesitated. Han gave him a soft kick where he knew you wouldn’t see it.

“Yes.”

You started slowly writing in the labels before you as he, at the same pace, passed the pages.

"May I know why?"

Changbin cleared his throat. Shit, why was he so nervous?

"That guy was just talking, and that's why I had to do his job,” he grunted.

"I... I'm sorry." You looked down, sounding sincere. “If I hadn't given him a conversation, he would have started unloading the flowers.”

It wasn't true, and Changbin wasn't an idiot. That guy wouldn't have taken his eyes away from you unless he didn't have enough time to finish his shift.

But that didn't matter to him. What mattered was that your voice didn’t sound the same when you talked about this guy. It didn’t sound right.

"What type of flower is a Forget-Me-Not?" Han interrupted, looking at the book, reading past Changbin's shoulder. If he continued like that, Seo may not scold him anymore. For a short time, at least. Maybe a week.

"Oh." You recovered your kind smile, and the knot that had formed on Changbin’s chest untangled as soon as he heard your excited tone as you showed Han the small blue flowers. “They actually import them, from Mexico! Did you know?” You asked no one in particular, the two men in the shop suddenly interested in the topic as you continued to blabber about flowers.

To Changbin, only when you talked about them, your voice seemed less annoying. Even pretty, he could admit —not out loud, obviously—. But he liked it, mentally classifying your sweet tone of voice into “I-would-listen-to-it-to-fall-asleep”.

No one would notice.

[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]

“Dude. You are like, I don’t know, totally in love with her?” Han said as he took a sip from his takeaway coffee as he entered the recording studio and sat on the sofa.

In his mind, just because he hadn’t paid for it, it tasted ten times better, even though if it was the same he chose every day.

The accusation almost made Changbin spit his own drink. He stared at it, wondering if there could be something in it that could’ve explained why his face felt so hot all of a sudden.

Fuck, was it that noticeable?

“Yeah man, it is really noticeable.” Han smiled, surprised at his silent victory. “You look at her like Minho Hyung looks at his cats. It’s sickening, really.”

Changbin frowned. “I do not.” Jisung deadpanned.

“Says the man that made me third wheel in a fucking flower shop.”

“What are you guys bickering about?” Chan asked with a small smile as he got inside.

“Changbin is in love with the flower girl two blocks away.” Han teased in a sing-song voice.

“Fuck that.” Chan’s eyes grew big with emotion.

“Shit, he is.”

“Actually, Hyung,” Jisung mentioned as he handed Chan the other coffee he had bought, “I think she might like him back.”

Changbin coughed violently. The others smiled.

“Why the fuck would she?” He frowned again, his eyes not leaving his phone. “I literally met her last week and behaved like a piece of shit.”

Both Chan and Han smiled, knowing that by not refusing the allegation, Changbin was actually interested in Miss Flower Girl.

“Remember the analogy I made with Minho and his cats? Same shit goes for her. I’ve never seen anyone staring so intensely at someone’s eyes.” Han trembled, exaggerating. “Chills. Literal chills.”

Small hope was planted in Changbin’s heart, but he tried to shove it deep inside him. “Either way, after I go and get the flowers from her, whatever this is, is over. There’s no chance,” he shrugged.

Chan and Jisung shared worried looks. Despite what Changbin could show to people, he was a loving, sensible person. They both knew that if he had silently admitted the existence of a crush on this girl, it was because he meant it. And for a guy like him, who was often viewed as mean and rude or even dangerous, he usually chose to approach new people the less, so whatever was going through his mind meant a big deal.

Chan tsked. “Maybe it’s none of my business, bro, but after Hari, I’ve-.”

“Spare me the trip, Hyung,” Changbin interrupted in a low voice. “She’s been stalking me for months since I broke up with her. I really don’t want to hear it.”

Chan patted his back, a sad smile on his features as he looked at his friend.

“S’good, man. No hard feelings.”

After working on some tracks for a while, the topic was thoroughly avoided by the members, until Changbin sighed.

“Okay. You guys can stop your mind games.”

The others gave him a puzzled look.

“Whaddya mean?” The Australian wondered.

Seo let a small smile show as he passed his hands through his face.

“I really want to see her again.”

[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]

So thanks to Chris, the bell in the flower shop rang once again. You were humming a popular song, one that Changbin knew, so instead of approaching you, he wandered through the isles filled with flowers, listening to you as you continued the melody.

His heart beat like crazy when after a while, he opened and closed the door again, pretending he hadn’t been there listening to you.

“Oh, hey, Mystery.”

Your smile made his heart skip a beat. The sundress you were wearing, along with the short brown apron, made him swallow dry.

“Flower girl,” he greeted. You lifted your eyebrows.

“That’s a change of attitude. What can I do for you today?”

Do me. “I was wondering if you could deliver the flower bouquet. Is that possible?” He asked politely.

Your dimples showed when you smiled at him, looking for a notebook in the mess that your study guides made.

“College?” He wondered, staring at your eyes daringly as he pointed to your books.

“Music major, final year,” you grinned. “For your delivery, write the address here, and I’ll deliver it myself,” you played with a strand of hair, quickly moving it behind your ear.

Chanbin’s hands tickled. He wanted to do that too.

“I wouldn’t do it usually, but I figured you wouldn’t enjoy seeing Jerry again.”

He scoffed as he scribbled in the notebook. You cackled.

Suddenly, a loud noise from the workshop startled both of you, who were kind of lost in the other’s eyes.

“Girl, are you still here?” Your mother asked loudly.

You facepalmed, mouthing ‘sorry’ to Changbin, to which he quickly gestured that it was fine.

“You ok, mom?” You replied.

“I’m fine! God, you spend your days here. If it were me, I’d be outside kissing boys!”

Your face turned red in the blink of an eye. “Mom?!” Changbin held back his laughter, covering his mouth with his hand.

She never answered, just chuckled teasingly.

Changbin quickly closed the notebook and gave it to you, his cheeks suddenly almost as red as yours.

“See you soon, I guess?” He smiled, still holding back a loud cackle.

“Stop laughing.” You snickered. “But yeah. See ya… eh…”

“Changbin. Seo Changbin.” He left, smilling like an idiot.

You opened the notebook as you raised the music’s volume again, blushing furiously at your discovery.

Along with the address of what you recognised as some well-known company and the name of who the flowers where for, he had left a note below it.

In case you want to go kiss boys.

Was that… his phone number?

[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]

After closing the shop for the day, you stared at the flower bouquet as you were walking down the street, headed to where Changbin had written down. After figuring your way out with the maps app on your phone, you decided that taking your bike would be stupid, as it only was two blocks away.

The mix of colours was striking. At least, it had that. You hoped the person who would receive it would like it, meanings aside, considering you put effort into it.

The company was bigger than you expected. Before you could allow yourself to enter and look around, a security guard stopped you.

“Excuse me, miss, no one is allowed inside without a pass,” he explained.

You smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of your neck. “I was just here to deliver this…? I wasn’t told about this restriction, my client just said that I should deliver it in person.” Yeah, that was a lie, but he didn’t know that. “Would it be ok if I went inside? It’ll be only for a minute.”

He sighed, then shrugged. “I don’t think I’m allowed to let you pass…”

“Oi, Hyung!”

A somewhat tall man —at least taller than you— approached you two.

“You’re Flower Girl, right?” He said, sounding excited, failing to hide it. “She’s with me, don’t worry.”

You entered the company with him, but after that, you stopped and turned to him.

“I appreciate the help, but who are you?”

He smiled. “Yikes. Forgot about that. My name is Chris, it’s nice to meet you. I am close friends with Changbin.”

Your eyes softened, and you smiled. “Oh, I see.” You then looked back at the notebook you carried, the one Changbin had written down in. “Do you know where could I find Park Jin Young’s office?”

Chan looked at you weirdly. “Changbin paid for flowers for the big man? Damn.”

You giggled. “It’s not what it looks like. These flowers all have different meanings, and none of those is a good one.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! For example, the orange carnations?” You pointed out one of the flowers. “Those mean ‘I hate you.’”

Chan snorted and laughed at every meaning of every flower you gave him.

“Chan!”

He turned around to face whoever had called him, seeing Changbin approaching him, looking anxious.

“Chan, she’s fucking downstairs.”

Chris’ stare turned darker. Your heart tightened in your chest.

“Stay with her. I’ll go see if I can talk to security.” Chris managed to say before he rushed downstairs.

“Bin, is everything good?”

He noticed your presence, to which he froze for a second. Time started to feel slow. His spine locked up, and his shoulders stiffened. He even felt his shirt stretch in a sudden motion.

“Flower Girl.” You could feel the sudden state of relaxation he arrived, his figure visibly less tense.

You hesitated on what to do but then chose to act by instinct. Hugging him.

He tensed up again, the sudden act taking him by surprise. You tried stepping back, feeling like you had made him awkward, but he then pulled you in a bear hug.

“Thanks, pretty.” He whispered in your ear. “I needed that.”

“S’ok.” You smiled, a fluttering feeling settling in your stomach

He stepped away, shyness all over him. You smiled at him, but something changed as he looked at someone behind you.

Before you could turn around to see what had been the issue, he got way closer than a second ago, a hand travelling to your cheek, directing your face to meet his.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Seo whispered, just before he pressed his lips against yours.

Your confused self couldn’t manage the sudden emotions that ran through your body. You felt his tongue brush your lips, and you had to make an effort not to drop the flower bouquet when you started matching his pace, feeling him smile in between the kiss.

Concentrated on the man that had a hand on your face and an arm around your waist, you were too into it that you didn’t hear a woman gasp at the end of the corridor, leaving in a rush, crying fake tears.

Don’t get Changbin wrong. Seeing the girl that had tried to manipulate and gaslight him out of his music career just so he could spend his time doing stuff for her, things she took for granted, he figured the only way of making her leave should be a harsh one.

And okaaaay, he might have been dying to kiss you for a while now.

After texting Chan that she was gone, you both eventually arrived in front of the office.

He stayed behind as you entered, approaching a somewhat 50-year-old man with clothes as striking as the bouquet you had in your hands.

“Who sends these?” He questioned, his features suddenly looking younger when he smiled.

“Seo Changbin, sir," you bowed. "Have a good day!”

You couldn’t help but snicker when you closed the door. You found the three known men standing in front of you.

“So? Did he like them?” Han inquired.

“Pfft. I made that bouquet. Of course, he loved them.” You bragged jokingly.

The three of them offered to give you a quick tour, as it wasn’t common to have the opportunity to see the JYP building from the inside. Before you realised, it started pouring outside, heavy rain that looked like it wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

You cursed under your breath. If you even dared to walk under that rain, you would end up swimming your way home, your skirt and your blouse ruined.

3RACHA stood behind you, noticing that you were still at the entrance after a bit. Both Jisung and Chan ushered and pushed Seo to where you were.

“Is everything ok?” He asked, in a tone softer than what you expected.

“It’s just… ugh.” You looked at him, then tsked.

He froze when you got even closer, passing your hands above his shoulders. He had to hold back a shiver when your hands brushed his neck.

“Got no one to do this for you, I guess?” you gently fixed his collar, hands lingering on him more than they should have.

He couldn’t hold back a smile, looking at you differently, in a more intense way.

“I’ll take that as a no.” You ended the topic quickly, your eyes wandering from his eyes, then his lips, and back to his eyes again. You swallowed dry. “I can’t go back home with this rain, but my phone died, so I can't call for a cab or an Uber.”

He looked at you up and down. “Are you in a hurry?”

You stared at him, trying to match the intensity from before. “Not really. I just don’t have anything better to do. Why?”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

Neither Chan nor Han could say that Changbin was the messiest of the three, but he still was messy a generous amount. So when he got into the studio and picked up everything in less than five minutes, they gave him a look.

“Use protection, you bitch.” Jisung teased. Bin ruffled his hair.

“Fuck off," he chuckled. "See you tomorrow, guys.”

He guided you to the parking lot, and you both started driving.

Changbin’s grip on the steering wheel tightened when he noticed how your skirt rode up your knees when you sat down.

“Wait, I didn’t give you my address.” You realised, confused as to where was he going.

“I know.”

You looked around when he entered an underground parking lot, then parked and quickly got up to open your door.

He got really close, unbuckling your seat belt.

“You don’t need to be home tonight, right?” His eyes didn’t leave your lips when he asked.

“No.” You answered, almost in a whisper.

He took your hand as you got out of his car. Changbin walked with you to where the elevators were, hands still linked.

“Where are we?”

He pressed the elevator button and looked at you, even more intensely than later at the studio.

“My place.” He kept looking down at your lips. “I’ll take you home tomorrow.”

[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]

You woke up the following morning with a warm body next to you, the feeling making you snuggle closer to Changbin, passing his arm and setting it on your waist.

The sound of a notification made you groan in a low voice, reaching for your clothes and grabbing your phone from your jacket’s pocket. It was your mom.

You didn’t arrive last night. Where are you?

You smiled and replied.

I went to kiss a boy, like you said.

You went back to bed, looking fondly at the man next to you.

A buzz from your phone made you wake up from your daydreaming.

Cheeky girl. Flowers follow?

You laughed. As a florist, your mom had made up the expression one day. When saying “flowers follow”, it meant that there would be a positive outcome of whatever you had on your hands.

You knew that to your mom, in this context, 'flowers follow' meant just one thing.

Yeah, flowers follow.

Yeah. You might have fallen in love with him.

Don’t you dare come back home without that boy. I’ll cook something!

“What’s got you all smiley?” A sleepy Changbin made you giggle even more.

He, on the other side, could definitely get used to a morning like that.

You left your phone on the bedside table, and then got close to him again, tangling your legs in between his. He poked your dimples, and you chuckled.

“You, silly flower boy.”

~Kats, who has the urge to put lil’ details in every fic, like how the flower shop is named Lilac, which means ‘first love’ in flower, or how the flower that Han asks about means 'true love'.

(if you ask me, she was humming Come Inside of My Heart, bc I fucking love that song)

[itsabouttimex2]

Here's a challenge: platonic x reader who hates monkeys with a passion (you could do it with phobia or irrational hatred). With Wukong, Macaque, and Mk.

Pithecophobia

Yandere MK, Sun Wukong, Macaque

(Fun fact 1- prunes are not their own fruit! They’re just dried plums.)

“I’m just saying,” he starts with a scoff, “it’s really silly that you’re expecting me to play along with this. Especially when I don’t get anything out of it.”

MK turns around to face the demon monkey, frowning. He folds his arms and walks backwards to keep eye contact, hoping that his mentor would watch his steps for him.

“Uh, you are getting something out of it, though? Y/N spent all day cooking for us so we could celebrate the new year together! They even made extra in case we wanted to bring someone else! That’s like… super nice of them!”

“Oh, I might get some maybe decent food, is that it? And all I’ve got to do is pretend to be a powerless mortal all the way through a probably mediocre dinner, huh? Just because this weird friend of yours is scared of monkeys?”

Sun Wukong; who had eyeing the sky for early fireworks more than he had been looking out for his student’s safety, finally chimed in. “To be fair, I think that mug of yours would scare anyone away!” A second later, he ducks down to avoid Macaque’s incoming tail, leaving MK to take the brunt of the relatively harmless blow.

MK stumbles backwards and almost into the street, only stopped when his mentor’s tail wraps around his waist and pulls him back onto the sidewalk. “Whoa,” the Great Sage mocks, setting MK safely back down, “someone’s in a bad mood today! Maybe… you’re just mad cause no one except us wanted you over for the new year?”

Macaque snarls and lunges at Wukong, ready to brawl. It’s only when MK swiftly moves to stand between them that the near fight is averted. “Guys, come on! Can’t you get along for just one day?!”

The “NO!” that they shout in perfect unison is just about what he was expecting, but he’s still a little disappointed about it. They both try to move past him to grab at one another, barely impeded by his physical position.

A thunderous bang echoes across the sky, a brilliant bloom of sparkling red painting the blue horizon. Macaque hisses and recoils, his arms quaking as he moves to clap his hands over his ears. At the exact same time, Wukong jumps up in delight, cheering and hollering at the sight. MK takes his chance to separate them, hooking his arm around Macaque’s, pulling the pained monkey demon along much quicker than he was moving before.

“Come on, come on! The food is gonna get cold if you two don’t hurry up! And! Y/N told me that there’s something special just for the two of you! Cause, y’know… when I asked if I could invite you both, they asked me what sort of stuff you liked, and I told ‘em about the whole ‘peaches and plums’ thing…”

Bringing up food seems to have been a decent enough distraction, as both of them choose to start moving along instead of fighting. Your house is already on the horizon. Now he just has to hope that another fight doesn’t break out between the rival demons.

As usual, life dashes his hopes of peace being anything more than a temporary lull.

“Yeah? Like how peaches are just about the best thing ever? And how everyone that isn’t crazy likes ‘em one way or another?”

“About how sweet-toothed meatheads can’t help but shovel them down whole? Those sort of people don’t have the brain to enjoy plums. Peaches are just sweet. Plums have a subtle astringent skin that mixes well with the flesh’s mellow sweetness.”

“Sure thing, old man. Go home and eat your prunes if ya like ‘em so much.”

“They are NOT-“

“Guys! We’re here!” Before they can argue any further, MK releases Macaque’s arm and rushes up to the door of your house. “Hurry up and come inside!”

He takes a moment to consider knocking, then grabs the doorknob and impatiently starts rattling it instead. To his delight, it’s already unlocked. A quick glance over his shoulder shows that both of his companions remain in their transformed state, tails safely tucked into their clothing.

He throws the door open and races inside, leaving the monkeys in the dust.

Just barely remembering to take off his shoes before he tears through the halls of your house without hesitation, he throws them aside near the door in a still-tied heap.

He follows a practiced path straight into the kitchen, finding you just as you remove a plate of pork-stuffed spring rolls from the oven. You set them down on the countertop to cool, then turn to face the very-expected intruder. You might’ve been surprised, if it wasn’t for his excited footsteps echoing through the house.

MK runs into your arms before you can even pull the oven mitts off, wrapping you up in a warm hug. For just a moment, it gives you the same feeling as coming home after a long day, cozy and inviting.

Then, his grip grows tight.

“I missed you,” he says, his voice quiet and low. “Invite me over more often. Or come to Pigsy’s and visit me, at least. Please.”

His grip tightens further.

And then he lets go of you, turning to face his two companions, neither of which you recognize. He waves them into the kitchen and moves to set the table.

Politely, you offer the first one your hand. He’s decked out in shining gold and exuberant red, like a brighter and flashier MK. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m glad you came to celebrate with me. Come and take a seat!”

He snags your hand between both of his own, giving it a firm pump. “It’s great to meet ya, bud! Thanks for having us!” He heads to the table and bounces on his heels, snatching up a seat for himself before anyone else gets the chance.

You smile and turn to MK’s other friend, the one dressed in a billowing black and red shroud that concealed most of his face and body. You offer him your hand as well.

He shrugs and walks right past you, sitting down at the opposite side of the table- probably to keep away from his colorful and loud companion.

MK frowns at his friend’s behavior, but turns back to you with a wide and rather forced smile. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just… not used to this.” His voice drops to a low whisper as he adds: “And his ears have been hurting all day. I think he’s getting grumpy.”

“I can hear you, kid,” the irritated man says from beneath his shroud. “There’s a reason that I’m called the S-”

“The SUPER SENSITIVE hearing guy, I know! The thing that all of your friends call you,” MK clumsily tries to lie, his ears and cheeks darkening to red with his poor attempt at deceiving you.

But before you can question him on it, his golden-clad friend pipes in with a snide: “He’s certainly sensitive, I’ll give him that.”

Outright chaos is only abated by the sharp click that sounds when you set a porcelain tray on the polished quartz surface of the table.

“MK told me about your favorite fruits, actually! So I stayed up late to make these for all of you,” you cheerily announce to the trio, lifting the delicate lid to reveal three plates of sticky-rice pudding. Each one is delicately drizzled with syrup sugar and studded in tiers with sweet fruits.

Your friend jumps forward, his palms hitting the table as he stares at you with wide-eyes. “Y/N! You made Eight Treasures Rice for us?!”

“Well, it’s more like ‘One Treasure Rice’, haha. It’s really only got the fruit in it, actually. I didn’t wanna put anything you guys didn’t like in there, so I decided to play it safe. I hope that’s not disappointing!”

“Not at all, bud! Not at all!” Several of his aureate accessories glint in the light as the man reaches eagerly for the peach-filled rice pudding.

You pass it to him with a smile, then give MK his own, stuffed full of tangerine slices. With only one left, you push the plum-packed dessert to the shrouded stranger, who seems to slightly brighten up at the sight of it.

Before anyone can say anything, you remove yourself from the table and hurry around the kitchen, gathering plates and utensils for the trio. You put them out quickly, then pile all the dishes you made in the morning onto the table.

“Good kid,” Wukong whispers to Macaque, picking bits of peach from the pudding as you arrange two plates of dumplings on the table. “And good food. Still regret coming, ‘Super Sensitive’?”

“…the kid’s alright. Jury’s still out on the food, though.” He pauses, taking a quick moment to think of something to criticize Wukong for. “And keep your tail under control. I can see the tip flicking back and forth in your pant leg.”

“Whatever you say, bud.”

A tray with a whole braised chicken is set between them, and a platter of steamed rice flour cakes after it. Finally, you take your own seat, next to the shrouded man and across from MK.

It strikes you then that you haven’t even learned the names of your guests.

“I’m Y/N, by the way! I’m sorry for not asking your names earlier! What should I call you?”

“The name’s Sun, bud! And that’s Mac, sitting in the edgy robe.”

“I like the robe,” you compliment politely, looking at the concealing garment. “The cloud embroidery is a nice touch.”

“It’s a cloak… and thanks.”

MK jumps forward in excitement and strikes his palms against the table, rattling the bowls and dishes.

“C‘mon! Let’s eat, everyone!

———————————————————————

“I think everything went well, today. You think so too, right?”

You set the knife down, turning to face ‘Sun’. As you cut up the leftovers, he’s sorting them into separate containers for everyone to take home. (And giving himself larger portions when you weren’t looking.)

“Definitely! I think my, uh… friend was pretty impressed. I hope we can do this again, Y/N! I don’t really have anything scheduled this time of year…like, ever.”

Except for watching fireworks from the top of his mountain, far away from company and civilization. Again and again, over and over, thinking only of his long-passed friends and companions.

“…we are going to do it again, right?”

“Oh, um, sure. I don’t see why not. My family doesn’t really come and visit, so I’ll probably have the house empty again next year. So, um… yes! I’d be happy to have you over!

He hums softly, nodding his head to your words.

“Sounds good, bud. I’ll be there. And… I’ll see if I can wrangle Mac into coming, too. Maybe just to see him jump at fireworks again, though.”

“He seemed interesting,” you graciously offer of the cloaked man, in spite of his admittedly poor behavior through dinner. “I enjoyed his stories.”

“Pfft! I could’ve told them better- I was there for most of them!”

“Well, the two of you should come again- MK seemed happy- more than usual, even. Honestly? I think he’s been stressed out lately… I’m glad he could have a day to relax. I really do need to visit him more often.”

“Huh. Guess it must be a little hard living so far from the city, bud. Any reason you’re this far out?”

“Oh, that’s… I inherited this house- and the orchard outside- from my parents, actually! I take a lot of pride in it, really. I wouldn’t trade it for the world, even if the work is a little lonely.”

“…I think I will come visit, then. And I might sample a few of your fruits, too,” he teases, lightly elbowing your side. “You think you can handle that, bud?”

“…you know what, Sun?” Sun, what he had informed you his name was. It fits him well. He’s bright and exuberant, and never stops smiling. He seems like he’d be a good friend.

“That- that sounds really nice. Come by anytime you’d like.”

Your words sound kind right now. They feel right to say. The Great Sage thinks so too.

And he’s certainly not going to forget about them. Neither will Macaque, listening in from the shadows beside your tangerine trees.

Why would they ever let go of this kindness?

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Congrats on your following!! You more than deserve the attention for the skill and care you put into your writing. It’s always lovely to read and see where things go— on that note—

I would like to request “The Angst TM“ or “Hurt/Comfort”

( Crosshair x Medic!reader )

30—"Someone get the medic. Get the medic!"

48 —"You're the stars to my galaxy, without you there is no light."

—🦊

Hello my lovely @kavecika

I hope things are going well for you. You're always in my thoughts, even if I don't have time to reach out. I went with the Angst, so I hope you love it, and thank you for the congratulations, that means a lot.

Love oo,

The Only Reason

Warning: medical procedure, angst, hurt, tears, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.

Italics - flashback

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Smoke surrounded you as you did your best to tie off a wound, it was never easy working the front lines, not during the GAR and especially not now as an Imperial medic. You didn’t even know if what you were doing was right, not the medical part, but staying with the Empire. 

Really the only reason you stayed was because of Crosshair, you couldn’t leave him. You’d never leave him. Not when his chip activated, not when he made the decision to abandon his brothers, not even when he became a killing machine for the Empire. He wasn’t the Crosshair you knew and loved, but you still couldn’t leave him. 

“Someone get the medic. Get the medic!”

Another shout for help, another injured soldier that you would have to do your best to take care of; force how you missed Crosshair. How you missed how he would hold you so tight, afraid that you would slip through his grasp, almost as though you would disappear if he didn’t hold you. 

You missed how his lips traced your jaw, memorizing your shape, your every outline in the comfort of your quarters. 

But it all changed, all because of that stupid chip, that stupid old prune who somehow felt he was entitled to become an Emperor. If you only had a chance to deal with him hand-to-hand, then there would be no Empire, no chip, no soldiers still dying. Dying from something as ridiculous as a war that was supposed to be over. You remember because there was a parade and a declaration saying the war was over, so … then why were you here trying to save another young man from dying. 

You fought back the tears, fought back the anger, the hatred, you just wanted to be home. To be in Crosshair’s arms again, to hear him call you his baar’ur’ika, his little medic. You wanted to be lying beside him as he chewed his toothpick, something he stopped doing when he joined the Imperial ranks. 

Somehow through the smoke, through the tears, you finished your duty, and saved one more life. The fighting seemed to have finished at least for now. You trudged your way slowly towards the med tent, you needed to wash your hands and look after the patients you sent earlier. 

You were almost there when you saw Crosshair standing there, his armour looked pristine, the black shining even in the moonlight. He stared at you, and you just stared right back at him. You wanted to run into his arms, you wanted to hold him, bury your face in the crook of his neck. God, how you wanted to feel his fingers in your hair. To feel his breath on your neck, but there was no reaction from him. 

Nothing. 

There was nothing but him just standing guard. 

“Something you need, medic?”

The way he spat out the word medic, the way he just stared, it was all too much. Tears welled up in your eyes as you swallowed the lump in your throat back. He wasn’t your Crosshair, regardless of the fact you stayed for him, you followed him wherever he went, he wasn’t yours anymore. 

You simply shook your head, and walked into the tent. 

Why? Why did it have to be him? Why did you have to lose the one bright star in your life, that one shining, brilliant, spot in your miserable, dreary life? You gripped the field sink that had been set up and fought back the tears, fought back the misery. He was alive, regardless of everything else. He was here. He was alive, and maybe one day, somehow you’d be able to bring him back to you. 

Crosshair walked into the med tent and watched you, it’s all he could do. How could he possibly reach out to you? How could he do anything to comfort you? You were here because of him, when he tried his hardest to get you to leave you didn’t. So he did the next best thing, he distanced himself, he needed to save you even if that meant he had to break his promise to never leave you. His heart broke seeing you on the verge of breaking down, but if he intervened now, all the pain and hurt he caused you would’ve been for nothing. This was how he could save you, how he could keep you alive. 

He exited the tent, you none the wiser he’d even been there. 

You closed your eyes as a tear slid down your cheek, all you could think about was the last time you two were together, how he looked at you. How his fingers gently caressed the side of your face, the smile on his face as he declared his love to you, in the most perfect way possible.

“You’re the stars to my galaxy, without you there is no light” Crosshair smiled, “I mean it baar’ur’ika, you are my everything. If you’re not by my side, I wouldn’t even know what life is. I love you.”

Your trembling hand cupped his cheek as you smiled tears of joy, “I love you, my beautiful sniper.”

“I have a bad feeling about this next mission, just … just promise me, you’ll never stop loving me.” He pleaded as though his very life depended on your answer, he turned his head, kissing your palm, and holding it to his face.

“I promise. I’ll love you until I have no breath left in me. I may be the stars to your galaxy, but you’re the reason I even exist. Without you, I’d have no reason to live.”

“No you would, because you promised me all those months ago, you’d never stop living. So you’re not allowed to stop, even if I’m gone. I need you to keep going. For me.” He pressed another kiss to your palm, “Promise me?”

You simply nodded as you pulled him close, kissing his lips, “I promise. I promise to always love you and to never give up living.”

“I love you”

It was all that was said that night, as he held you so close. And now, he wouldn’t even dare to stand next to you, much less acknowledge your presence. You pulled yourself together, washed your face, and focused on the next soldier that needed you. 

As you moved to your next patient, you vowed you would find a way to bring Crosshair back to you. Someway or in some form, you’d find the Crosshair you knew and loved.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

always a god never human II satoru gojo

tags: post shibuya au, alt au where satoru is cursed to be blind, fluff, argument, angst, regret

word count: 4.5k

note: I wanted to write something that could encapsulate what being human is for satoru in the best worst case scenario. some of you might love this as I do, and thank you for your support. also, I made a reference to odysseus and the cyclops so I think I got it right (I haven't read the odyssey in nearly 10 years). also forgive me and please correct me if I got the kikufuku part wrong. will make a part two if this comes out well (I already have it drafted).

satoru gojo had been exposed to curses for as long as he could remember. first, as a boy, then as a student in jujutsu tech, and finally as a friend and instructor to those around him; but he had never been directly cursed.

not until now.

"you may remain as the strongest, satoru gojo, but your strength will be the only thing to hold you. no one but yourself will disinter it, so don't waste your time searching for something already set as destined." he recalled.

"love will be your salvation yet damnation, for you will cry for your shortcomings and failures. no one but you will carry this burden. let it remind you of this day, of the battle in which you never, truly won."

he always wakes up in a cold sweat afterwards. with the erratic beating of his heart and the tears running down his cheeks, satoru clings to himself, pressing a hand to his heart so as to remind himself of his current position. the back of his throat feels rough like sandpaper, and he licks his lips before reaching for the glass of water he's reserved for nights like these.

he drinks nearly all of it, his heart heavy before his fingers fish for his phone by his bedside.

"hey siri," he speaks, voice hoarse, "what time is it?"

"it's 3:24am."

with an exhaled huff, he puts his phone to the side, making note to remember where it is in the morning. as he lays his head down and focuses on the feeling of blood rushing to his fingertips, arms laid out side by side and fists clenching and unclenching, he sighs.

tomorrow will be better, he tells himself, but it has to change, whispers the other.

"now listen, don't give me that look, it's serious!" your frown causes utahime, your longtime friend of 4 years to shake her hands out to grab your attention, causing you to stifle a smile from your face as you hide your lips behind your cup of tea. "I have a job proposal for you, from a friend. and I think you'd like the pay."

utahime had always been sensible on the topic of money. knowing your constant struggles as a college student and now graduate, seeking to find new sources of income to keep up with bills and student loans, the sorceress felt compassion for you, a friend of hers who has grounded and guided her through frustration after frustration; work and romance related. she's never had the luxury of normalcy to a life like yours, she knows, so doing this was in her best interest for your benefit.

she tells you she has a friend who has decided to take up reading. problem is, he's blind.

"he's not a child, though he acts like it sometimes, but he's not some prune old man either. he's around your age so I'm sure talking to him along with your patience won't be an issue."

besides the generous pay for your time, 6 hours a week for $500 as a starting salary, there was something about this arrangement that left you with a good feeling in your heart. and it wasn't because your client was blind, no. it was the sheer opportunity for growth, in doing something you loved and doing something someone wanted to partake in. so on the day of your arrival you dress your best, hair neatly combed with a pearl diadem and academia as your outfit inspiration for the occasion. "he lives in a secluded home," you recall utahime's words, "up on a hill, or cliff. I don't know. it's always cloudy over there," and you can make out the home on the hill. it's quaint, and you feel thankful for having picked the clothes adequate for the weather.

it surely looked like it was going to rain, so you quicken your pace until you're at the front door, standing still as you swallow the lump at the back of your throat. you were no psychic, but the way your heart churned and palpitated let you know something was about to change your life forever.

"you must be the girl utahime sent, I'm satoru. please step inside," you absentmindedly take in the smile he gives you, taking no answer from you before he opens the door to let you in. he wears a pair of black glasses, contrasting to his snowy hair and porcelain skin. wearing casual loungewear neither of you dare to touch one another in the sense of exchanging a handshake out of respect, or fear. it all feels formal, too formal as if this were a job interview or more.

"it's quite cold outside, isn't it?" after you step inside and change into a pair of slippers that are slightly too big for you, satoru shows you to where you would read to him.

he makes conversation rather well, you find, but there is slight awkwardness in the interactions but not in the way he moves around the house. as he moves up the stairs, he has a hand against the wall as he takes each step with precision, knowing when and where to step. you're fairly quiet, but polite in your conversation with him, until you reach the space he calls his 'study' which is just a room with a large window accompanied by books and belongings.

"you're probably wondering how on earth a blind guy has a clean place, right? well to answer your question, housekeeping."

"I wasn't thinking about that," you answer softly biting the inside of your cheek, "I was just admiring the window."

there's a momentary silence between the two of you. either satoru is surprised by your reply, unrelated to his blindness, or you have struck a sensitive chord, however, his nod makes you think otherwise.

"it is. before I was blind, I'd come here as a teen. house is mine, so even the doors are nice in here." and when he hears you agree, he smiles. "anyways, I'm sure utahime told you the basics about this, yeah?"

"yes."

"great. there's a book on that table to your right. you can start reading that one." as he walks, he takes a seat on a chair across from you. he patiently waits until you sit down again to ask, "before we start, would you like some water?"

"yeah," you breathe, "that'd be great actually."

"there's a few water bottles under the table next to you," he informs, making himself comfortable on the chair, limbs spreading comfortably as you take out a water bottle and glance at the book in your lap.

"this book is about malaysia," you read the title, "is that somewhere you'd like to visit one day?"

"maybe," he says, "it was from a friend of mine."

"did he go to malaysia?"

there's a long silence in between the innocence your question and his answer.

"he did," he answers slowly. "it was always a dream of his to go, so that's why I've kept the book." you don't press him further, instead nodding and suggesting on starting.

when you open the book, you don't miss the elegant cursive writing at the top right of the page.

n. kento

you frequent satoru's home every monday, wednesday, and friday for 3 hours every day. the pay is more than what you expect the first week, $750, but you wonder how this man can easily afford your services.

the bigger question, is how can he live alone in such a home like that? does he ever get hurt? what does he do then?

"yeah, I live here by myself." he answers your question on the third week of your employment. "it's pretty neat though. I don't have to worry about anyone misplacing anything I leave, you know?" his attempt at a joke makes you chuckle and walk up the steps behind him to his study. "are we reading something new today?"

"there's something different I want to try," he tells you, "last night, on the news, I heard there was a feud over some meso-american statue. something to do with jade material being one of the few in existence. I know this is beyond what we agreed, but do you think you can find an article on it?" you nod, affirming his request.

"great!" he smiles, relieved, "my laptop is on the desk. feel free to use it."

you wanted to say that was the last time he asked you for a favor like that, but it was you who fueled his interest. that day, you ended up finding 4 articles, and playing 2 videos about the subject. and as a result, both you and satoru engaged in related conversation until the end of your assigned time.

every few days, satoru would inform you on something (practically asking) and you'd reply by responding, researching the questions he ached to know. it went such way that you were reading him books less and less and more article, media coverage, and conversation.

"did you hear about the experiment trials being conducted by this company called oceangate?" satoru asks, interest laced in his voice, "they're thinking about sending people to view the titanic shipwreck."

and quickly enough, so were you.

"yeah, I also heard about it. I couldn't help but read an article about it. apparently, they've done a few trials, but the company is independent, so I don't know how safe it is or if they have government members involved..."

one of satoru's favorite moments consist of the following.

"did you hear about the crime case that just happened last week? the one with the girl who survived the car accident."

"I did!" you answer eagerly, "I heard her stepdad was the last person to talk to her boyfriend."

"do you think he murdered him?"

"it's tough to say," you bite your bottom lip in contemplation, "I knew he didn't approve of him because he was an aspiring musician, but these texts came out saying he wrote to his brother, 'that man better stay away from my daughter or else I don't know what I'll do',""

"no way."

"and that's not even the worst part," you adjust yourself on your seat, criss cross applesauce. "they found dna remains in his car before his death, hair. right before the car accident. there's speculation they argued before..."

"the accident." satoru nods.

as the weeks progressed, so did your conversations with satoru. the two of you had a knack for being adaptable in your interactions with one another. you could reach a book for an hour, then talk about some recent story or just spend a whole session talking, with the mention of an article or some source always being mentioned.

and satoru burned for that. with every interaction, he found himself looking forward to what else he could bring up, and so did you, even spending time of your own researching things he might be interested in learning about.

things the both of you turned out interested learning about.

"here," satoru could feel the warmth emanate from your body (or his) as you sat next to him, your body scooting closer to his, "hold your hands, yeah, like that," placing a small statue, no bigger than the size of a wine bottle, satoru freezes slightly as you guide his fingers to glide along the edges of the statue.

"my friend managed to get this one out of the archives," you explain, "of course, I just had to bring this to you too. can you sense the material?" the corner of satoru's lips tug upwards in acknowledgement of your excitement. it makes his heart squeeze and pulse in ways that felt familiarly unfamiliar. in a good way, of course. everything you brought in his life was good. whether he could see it or not, you were always so welcoming and sweet.

"is this... legal?" he out of everyone finds himself whispering. as if the authorities could be outside his door. you giggle.

"yes," you smile, "I asked my friend if she could let me borrow this for the day, to take 'pictures'." you chuckle, "obviously that's not what we're doing, is it?" a warmth follows satoru's cheeks as he shakes his head and you smile. "this mesoamerican statue is the same material as the one we read the other week, remember?"

we, satoru's words echo in his head as he nods. "y-yeah. thank you for doing this, you know."

"of course," you smile kindly, "I figured, out of everyone who could be here, I figured you deserve this."

deserve.

"open your hands for me, satoru." your soft voice speaks as you cup his hands, the ocean waves crash from afar. after much convincing, you managed to pull satoru out of his comfort zone. what's the point of going to the ocean if I can't see it? he asks.

well, what's the point of me reading to you and us interacting if you can't see me? you counter. and he realizes you've won.

he can smell the saltwater, can feel the wind blow through his hair and let his feet sink into the sand, but that's not what makes his heart skip a beat. your hands shouldn't feel this soft, he thinks. the way you allow grains of sand to fall in his hands feel otherworldly, holy. the way he senses you smile at him and place a shell on his palm, letting him trace the surface with his finger as you guide him makes him feel as the most enlightened man alive.

he can sense you're close, not by strands of your hair slapping his cheek as the wind blows, but by the warmth of your body. suddenly, he does not feel he is at the beach, but with the beach guiding her hands with his and feeling the warmth of what he feels is your smile.

he remains silent, you're looking at him, and he's looking at you underneath his shades. he's frozen. waiting for you to say something, to break this off as if this would never, by any of his wildest dreams, occur in any universe.

but you don't.

satoru feels his pulse quicken, breathing deepen as the point of your feet slot themselves to his, your nose barely brushes his own, causing the six eyed user to forget everything he once thought he knew of limits and boundaries. kiss me, he thinks, take me, he begs to the heavens. satoru thinks he could be captivated, deeper than any spell odysseus and his men were under at sea, but they were cursed by calypso's beauty, and he felt blessed by the touch of an angel. your touch enviable to the gods above.

when you kiss him, he feels like he just made the greatest discovery to mankind, like he's waited his whole life for this, a feeling that greatly surpasses galileo's lifelong accomplishments and napoleon's combined. no feeling, word, or sight could transcribe what it feels to have your lips slide through his, to have you softly gasp against his lips, and to have your body close to his. satoru is convinced that he has reborn, become whole by the touch of your lips which have sweetly imprinted themselves throughout everything he is.

he holds the back of your neck gently, so as to remind himself that you are here, not a dream but here with him. flesh against flesh, man and woman who share one breath.

when you both pull away, satoru feels himself begging to pull you closer, but the hands that push him from you let him know you need to breathe. and although his body cries otherwise, you speak breathlessly, a hint of a smile in your tone, "did you feel that shell? it was my favorite kind to collect growing up," and he smiles because he learns what it is to collect something as valuable as the shells, your lips.

with nearly 3 months of knowing you, there was a shift in satoru's chest one wednesday morning as you excused yourself for a call.

"...of course I don't! you think I want to live with him?" you ask, voice laced with disgust, "I won't be tied down like that again and you know it, Kiro. I'll be cursed if I have to be with someone like him again. you know I'd never stay for someone like that. It's dead weight on my shoulders, and I won't have anything but pity on him." your words, from the end of the hallway send daggers at satoru's heart.

"yes, I'm at work, what else do you want me to do? It's not like I can just fly my way to you in such a short amount of time. you should have told me..." a long pause, "yes... he's blind," another long pause, "I get paid on the 26th, but my boss won't let me work on the 25th, so you can sleep in my bed while I get home. and wear something under the covers, okay?" somewhere, somehow satoru wanted to tell himself he was not hearing things correctly, that you were still the same girl he knew to be around, but when you returned after your call, something was definitely wrong with you.

"so, how was you call?" he asks, feigning interest, "everything ok?"

"yeah, fine, thanks." you breathe, tired, opening the book in your hands, "chapter 21, the last spring."

one week later.

as much as he wanted to deny it, satoru was beginning to think you had changed. what was it? was it him? the kiss? the way he grabbed you? or have you finally had enough of these little visits that could have been masked as pity for a young man like him?

when the 26th passes, he does not ask what your plans are. as much as he wants to ask, he thinks it's not of his place to ask. is he doing the right thing? he doesn't know. it certainly doesn't ease the unpleasant feeling bubbling in his stomach.

"do you have a favorite treat?" you ask. caught off guard, he nods.

"kikufuku," he tells you, "when I was in high school, there was this elderly couple that had a kikufuku stand and they used to have the best ice cream fillings."

"I thought kikufuku was cream based?"

"It was, but not to them. their ice cream filling was one of a kind."

"when was the last time you had some?"

he laughs, "years ago. I'm pretty sure they ended up closing because the wife died, and she was the only living relative who knew how to make it."

"that's too bad."

"I know, but at least they were happy doing what they did." satoru then changes the subject, shifting the focus to a lighter topic.

on december 6th, satoru recieves a call.

"I told you, you don't have to call me sensei anymore," satoru groans, throwing a wooden sword towards yuuta, catching it flawlessly.

"why not? you've always been my sensei. or would you rather us call eachother cousins?"

"you're right," answered satoru adter a long moment, earning a laugh from his former student. "so what was it you wanted to talk about? clearly it was not to train, so what is it?"

"I just wanted to see how you're doing."

"well you could've just called..."

"you haven't trained with us in a while," yuuta sighs, "everyone. we don't really know what you're up to these days."

and he was right, but satoru would never admit it.

"what?" he asks, almost faking offense, "can't your sensei go on vacat-"

"-utahime sensei says you've been in your home a lot," he clarifies, "only few of us know. toge, panda, yuuji and I."

"what about megumi?"

"he's kind of in his own world," yuuta sighs, placing his weapon down before taking a seat next to gojo in the training room. "he knows things haven't been easy."

"you've kept an eye on him and yuuji like I asked, right?''

"to a degree," he admits, "I can't have them open up so freely because I'll always be their upperclassmen, but you... you're..."

"I get what you're trying to say." he answers flatly.

"you do?"

he nods.

"can I walk with you to your home?" yuuta asks, "there's another thing I'd like to ask, personally this time."

satoru finds himself agreeing with his younger student, what else could he do besides that? as the two walk, satoru finds himself giving advice he didn't think he could give, advising the student on what shall become of him now that he's already over age and in his own right to choose his destiny.

as he advises his pupil, satoru finds himself wondering the same for himself. he's turning a year older in 2 more days, what will become of him? what will he do? what does this mean in relation to kenjaku's damned curse? it aggravated him. upset him how everything felt so secure, almost ideal weeks ago, but now his life felt back in square one, returning to his home that he had grown used to be alo-

"surprise!"

not one, nor two, but several familiar voices called from the inside of his open, making satoru freeze in shock.

"surprise! we thought we'd surprise you sensei" panda's voice rang.

"he's right!" another voice, yuuji's appears, "we thought about making a little get together with our favorite sensei..."

"obviously someone had to plan this," satoru turned, stunned when shoko's voice came into play. "you?"

"no," she chuckles, turning to you but you quickly shake your head, reaching for utahime, "it was utahime!" you call, "she wanted to plan something nice for you."

"aww well aren't you sweet?" he grins tauntingly at utahime who can't help but send daggers your way as shoko muffles her laugh.

for the duration of the party, satoru is accompanied by his co-workers, friends, and students. he hears more about what they've done. what travels they have accomplished, and what romances some of them have experienced all while they share laughs. all while satoru searches for yours.

you stand a respectable distance away from him, deciding it would be best to let his friends and students take over since he hasn't seen them in so long. you weren't as special as they were, only having known satoru for the least amount of time, a part of you felt like a stranger. not that anyone made you feel left out, no. everyone was kind to you and even appreciative for your presence. however, you spent a whole majority of the party not talking to satoru, as if you weren't there.

when it came time to cut the cake, everyone who was an adult was nearly drunk. the students, all joyously supervised by ichiji laughed as they shared a group photo. yuuji, satoru's student mentioned something about adding the photo as his lockscreen, causing everyone to burst out laughing from ichiji's protests. everyone looked happy, with a twinkle in their eyes as the end to the party came to an end.

the students and ichiji were the first to leave, then shoko and utahime finding balance in one another, leaving you alone with satoru in his home.

"you didn't drink, huh."

"I don't really drink in social events." you shyly admit, scratching the back of your neck as satoru does not face you, looking towards the door where utahime and shoko left not long ago.

"you thought you were social?" his words take you by surprise.

"I, um.... I talked to your friends." you say, "they were very nice."

"I barely heard you."

"that's because you were probably occupied talking to the others-"

"-you didn't talk to me." he finds himself saying in annoyance.

"I didn't want to take your day away,"

"from who?"

"you."

"there's nothing to take from me."

"yes there is," you tell him. "your attention. you haven't seen your friends in-"

“they all pity me.”

“what? no they don-”

“-you’re not blind. people don’t… they don’t look at you like some pity animal, just waiting for you to fuck up.”

“you are not a pity....”

“oh yeah?” he breathes, ragged. “then why the fuck did you agree to read to a blind man?”

there was some silence, regret pooled at the back of your throat and then a shift in your weight as you stood. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. I like you, “I- I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,”

“I- are we…?”

“I don’t think we should be seeing each other,” he expresses. “not for a while,”

“a while?”

“yeah, a while.’’

“do you… want me to leave?”

“I think it’s for the best.”

“Do you want me to come back monday?”

“I don’t think so,”

when you left, satoru's jaw tightened, hands now fisted by his sides and a body so rigid one might think he were frozen in place. satoru stays like that for several moments, eyes nearing a burning sensation as he focuses on where he would imagine the door is, almost expectantly waiting for your return as if this were a dream.

but it wasn't.

and as the minutes pass, he paces his living room. hands running over his hair.

he had done wrong.

"ichiji," his voice almost broke, dry and borderline desperate. “I…” I think I fucked up, “I want you to pick up y/n. She just left my place, but she doesn’t have a car.”

"I already did," he says, "she said just that."

“Did she tell you anything?” he finds himself expecting.

“not really..."

“how did she look?”

normal? Ichiji wanted to say, didn't you just see her? but the tone in satoru’s voice confirmed that he did something to leave you so quiet after the party. 

“she was quiet,” he tells him, “...maybe she was tired from the party. you know, she organized it herself.”

“she... what?”

“yeah. utahime helped her bring the cake. she needed someone to drive while she carried the cake because she didn't trust anyone to hold it the 20 something minutes it took to get to your house. she told me she was trying to look for someone who knew how to make ice cream kikufuku and ended up finding the niece of the old owners of a shop she said you used to frequent. after long convincing, she was able to get the niece to help. I’m pretty sure she made the cake, with the help of the niece of course. she also made the dinner, and even had shoko bring in the drinks along with candles that your friend forgot to bring, — so I guess she was just tired, right?”

Satoru was speechless. unsure if it was the fact that you did so much for him or the fact that he had never heard, in his entire life, hear ichiji speak for so long with such conviction, it was everything he needed to hear.

right? the words in satoru's mind, head pounding with everything and anything relating you. and on the other side of the line stood a confused yet almost concerned ichiji.

"hello? are you still there?"

"yeah," he answered dryly, "is... is she home safe?"

"of course, I dropped her off." but it sounded like, why wouldn't she be? to which satoru felt like it wasn't a good enough answer. he needed to see, hear that you were okay. and he was afraid that he was regretting his words so easily.

"satoru," now serious, ichiji's words pulled him from his thoughts, "are you still there? what happen-"

"-I fucked up," he choked, "I... I said things I shouldn't have..."

[heich0e]

yakuza!suna/escort!reader part 6 - takes place the night following part 5, tw the girlies are fighting (literally), tw mention of blood, happy belated birthday yakuza!shinsuke i want you to step on me series masterlist

The Inarizaki compound is an immaculately maintained estate.

The grounds are vast, tucked away in a quiet corner of Hyogo, just distant enough from the city to feel private. The buildings on the property are old, and traditional in style, but they were built to last and have been cared for to ensure it. The compound is as imposing today as the day it was first built, a truth diligently seen to over the years as its care has passed between hands from one head of the family to the next. It stands as a testament to the power and the influence of those who inherit and inhabit it; a reflection of them built in timber and stone.

Nothing on the property is out of place or unkempt. Every shrub, every blade of grass, every flower in the garden is carefully reared and pruned. Every floor diligently swept. Every surface cleared of any trace of dust. Every window polished to a spotless shine that reflects the sun that looks brightly down upon the sprawling plot of land. 

And underneath the Inarizaki compound—in the labyrinthine system of corridors and dim, damp rooms where the sun doesn’t reach—the same diligence, the same control, exists too.

“Well, well, well—would ya look who it is.”

On a ratty leather sofa in one such room, deep below the well-tended grounds, Atsumu lays sprawled with his head tipped back lazily over the arm rest. On the other side of the wide room, a figure stands before him after just stepping through the door—though, given the blonde’s current orientation, he’s upside-down in his line of sight.

Suna’s expression is notably flat—his mouth drawn into a tight, thin line—regardless of whether or not it’s viewed from the right way up.

“How nice of ya to finally join us,” Atsumu continues, picking himself up off the sofa so he’s sitting upright. He turns in his seat to glance over at his brother who's slumped down into a chair not far from him, fiddling with one of his favourite knives. Atsumu snort a little to himself. “‘Specially after ya kicked us outta yer place this mornin’.”

Suna says nothing in response.

The blonde twin smirks, peeking over at him again. 

“So, how’s our little Yua-chan?” 

If looks could kill, Osamu’s long-held dream of being an only child would have come true a hundred times over in an instant.

“Enough, Tsumu,” his twin grunts, flicking the butterfly knife in his hands closed. “Yer bein’ a slimy little fuck, ’n I’m not patchin’ ya up if he kicks yer ass.”

Atsumu huffs, a look of mild betrayal twisting at his features.

“My own brother,” he laments, a hand melodramatically clasped to his chest. Osamu flips him off with a roll of his eyes, scarcely paying him any attention at all.

With a laugh, Atsumu pitches himself back onto the sofa, snuggling down into the worn old leather to make himself comfortable. His head lolls to the side and his gaze travels once more to the man on the other side of the room who still has yet to venture much further beyond the doorway. 

Osamu tucks his knife into the breast-pocket of his button-down shirt before reaching down beside his seat to grab one of the cans of beer he has resting at his feet in a plastic convenience store bag.

“Too bad ya didn’t bring her along, Sunarin. We could really use somethin’ nice to look at around here.” The blonde sighs almost wistfully, but the subtle curl at the corner of his mouth is unmistakably nefarious. “Pretty thing like her could be a huge boost fer morale. ‘Specially with those tits.”

Suna’s hauling Atsumu off the sofa before Osamu even has time to crack the tab on his drink.

“Get off’a me, ya psycho!” the blonde yelps as he hits the cold cement floor, but his cry falls only on deaf (or otherwise completely uncaring) ears.

In an attempt at defence, Atsumu throws a wide, flailing punch, but it doesn’t land. Suna’s got his shirt-collar tightly wrapped around his fist, and with one strong tug he drags his unsuspecting opponent forward, flipping Atsumu onto his chest on the ground. The blonde lets out a pitiful, wheezing grunt as Suna drops a knee to his spine, keeping him pinned, and takes a fistful of his peroxide locks in his hand to roughly draw his head back.

“Just wait," Atsumu grunts, as he tries to free himself from Suna's hold. "I’m gonna fuckin’ kil—“

Osamu opens his beer. The hiss of carbonation only vaguely mutes the sound of fist meeting flesh.

After all these years, the younger of the two Miya twins has learned that when his sibling picks a fight, it’s usually better just to let nature run its course. Sure, he intervenes sometimes if it’s really needed. After all, it’s still his brother—and Osamu’s not one to shy away from a good fight either, though he prefers that they be justified. But if Atsumu gets himself into a scrap, particularly when it comes to infighting like this, Osamu’s generally pretty happy to let him get knocked around a bit.

Not that he’ll ever learn a lesson from it.

Plus, Suna rarely ever gets this fired up. There’s a bit of fun to seeing Atsumu get his ass handed to him by the characteristically apathetic brunette. Osamu’s seen what Suna’s capable of plenty of times, and knows his particular handiwork well, but in the thick of a fight he doesn’t ever really have time to appreciate the distinctly feral way that Rintarou fights—the placid-faced brutality of it—so for once he just sits back and settles in to enjoy the show.

He’s not even halfway through his beer when he hears the sound of footsteps approaching on the concrete floor of the corridor outside, leading towards them. He pauses with the can held to his lips as two figures step into the room, silhouetted in the doorway by the harsh fluorescent light flooding in from the hallway behind them.

The skirmish in the centre of the room stalls upon the newcomers' unexpected arrival—both parties panting raggedly as they shove the other away, separating from the lock of their brawl.

“Get up.”

Neither of the men fighting dare to question the order, nor the man that it comes from.

Suna and Atsumu both stand from the floor, quietly adjusting their rumpled clothes. They keep their eyes averted under the heavy, disappointed gaze of the man who approaches them in unhurried, measured steps. With their gazes downturned, a pair of neatly polished shoes is all they can see when he comes to a stop in front of them.

“What’s all this about?” 

When neither of the guilty parties opt to speak up in the wake of the question that was posed, the silence in the room sours.

The man sighs.

He turns on his heel towards Osamu, and the dark-haired Miya struggles to meet his gaze.

“Atsumu started it,” the younger man finally mutters, taking another long, much-needed swig from his beer.

“Rat,” his twin hisses under his breath from across the room.

“Quiet.”

Kita doesn’t yell.

He doesn’t even lift a hand.

Atsumu flinches all the same at the command.

The slighter man, dressed in a nice, neatly-pressed suit, looks between the two battered men in front of him.

“Someone gonna tell the boss what happened here, or what?” Aran remarks from the other side of the room, his tone dry and unenthusiastic—it’s far from the first time he’s broken up one of Atsumu’s squabbles, after all. He's leaning leisurely now against the metal frame of the heavy, industrial door as he watches everything unfold—having not even bothered crossing the threshold into the dingy little space that serves as a makeshift lounge of sorts. He knew his involvement was unlikely to be needed.

He's outranked by his company, after all. 

“Suna went nuclear ‘cuz I made a little joke about some girl,” Atsumu complains, ready to talk now it would seem, as blood drips down his philtrum from his nose.

Kita’s eyes flicker to Suna, still slouching indolently at Atsumu’s side with his eyes directed away.

“A girl?” Shinsuke remarks thoughtfully. “What girl?”

“Just some girl Suna’s fuck—seein’,” Atsumu quickly alters his word choice in favour of something less profane when Kita’s eyes meet his. “Samu and I ran into her at his place this mornin’, naked as the day she was born.” As though he simply can’t help himself, like one final swing in the fight, the blonde tacks on one last pointed: “Interestin’ sight to say the least.”

Suna’s face is as expressionless as ever when he finally looks up to meet Kita’s stare, having avoided it for as long as he possibly could. The highest ranking member of the Inarizaki syndicate meets his eyes, his own expression pensive.

“Not the same one ya came to speak with me about this morning, surely?” 

Suna’s nose twitches slightly.

Osamu stills, half-way through the motion of lifting his drink to his lips again, his thirst forgotten in the wake of the remark.

Atsumu seems surprised too, somewhere under all the reddish-swelling on his face.

Even Aran's curiosity seems to be piqued.

“This girl’s makin’ ya behave rashly,” Kita comments. The judgement is conversational in tone but still biting—even-tempered and just but somehow all the more damning.

Red flushes into the tips of Suna’s ears.

“I’ll make myself clear, ‘cause it seems like I didn’t in our earlier conversation. It’s neither my place nor my desire to get my hands dirty in the personal matters of yer life. Those affairs are no concern of mine,” Kita says calmly, his eyes fixed so raptly to Rintarou’s face that anyone would be unnerved, much less a subordinate. The older man pauses then, as though thinking quite seriously about what to say next. 

Kita does this often: prolonged silences not unusual in the middle of his conversations, as he considers the information available him and his path forward. It’s reminiscent of a man playing go, taking time to carefully choose his next move. 

“However,” Kita finally adds, the lines of his face hardening as he comes to his decision, “what is my concern is this family, and it’s my responsibility to intervene when somethin’, or someone, jeopardizes it.”

Suna’s eyes drop to his feet as he nods stiffly, his gaze lowered in shame.

“Suna,” the Oyabun’s voice is low and gentle, which in many ways makes it worse. “You owe yer heart a debt for the way it’s served you ’til now, for the things that it’s helped bear, and I don’t claim to deny that. But don’t forget what debt you owe to this family. What obligation ya have to yer brothers. You can’t allow a temporary novelty to confuse where yer priorities lie.”

The dingy, dank room is quiet for a moment, and then Kita sighs, turning on his heel towards the door. Before he steps away, he glances towards Suna again.

“Go home, Rintarou.”

Everyone in the room freezes.

Suna’s eyes snap up in confusion, a complaint on the tip of his tongue as his lips part to free it. One look at Kita’s face silences him, and any protest he may have wanted to voice dies out before it’s given breath. The elder turns away once more.

He crosses the room towards Aran, and his Wakagashira pushes himself up off the doorframe as he approaches, pulling himself upright as the two prepare to take their leave. Meanwhile, Atsumu and Osamu share a look across the room, communicating their shock—and relative confusion—wordlessly between themselves.

Just before he steps across the threshold to exit, Kita pauses once more. He doesn’t turn around, but there’s no question in anyone’s mind who he’s speaking to when he says:

“Not to that club. Not to that girl. Home.”

[callmearcturus]

@ghostbird-7 #he’s so fucking exhausted#they’ve had the same argument for decades and his vantage point has changed and matured and been reaffirmed by his grief and love#and Charles has stayed exactly the same and there’s nothing he can do to change his mind even though he sees the evidence to the contrary#fucking everywhere#and also he loves him#no wonder he’s done I’d be done

how's it feel to Get It so much

@interropunct keeps spinning this idea that this timeline spun out from the moment Charles communed across the timelines with his older self, and I sort of am infatuated with that concept and how it completely and totally fucks Charles up, having basically a prophecy of his own future and what's to come

and there's, like, good parts of it, because that communion knocked him out of his depressive downspiral and got him to get his shit together enough to save the entire human race, sure. and frankly I like the idea that Charles accidentally downloaded his older self's fondness for specific people, a giddy joy that I see writ in how he reacts to Scott and the entire "I think that was my favorite tree," bit. He's so fuckign FOND, he's lightyears from the guy who called Peter "a pain in the arse."

but it's fun to take in the Falseness of Charles, the drag he puts on and how it's confirmed to be an act in Dark Phoenix, and trace it back to that moment. how much of what he is comes from trying to fulfill his own prophecy?

He saves Jean from her shitty dad, but in the process modifies her mind and memories. Because he's supposed to adopt her, he already knows this.

He leans fully into being The Professor to such a degree he's subsumed other aspects of his personality, because he knows this is who he is destined to be.

He repeatedly fucks up in the EXACT same way over and over, trying to lure the people he wants to help back "home" to his mansion, because it was the core of Old Charles' hope in their communion.

Punct put forth the idea that when Apocalypse almost possesses him and he loses his hair, he can actually grow it back if he wanted to, but because The Future Said So, he sticks to the bald.

Also just the entire VIBE of him, that he's right, that it takes tremendous harm and danger for him to admit he's wrong because... why would he be wrong? He's keeping up his end of the bargain. There is something deeply inorganic about him, pruned and perfect, in a way that feels purposeful when its blatantly contrasted with Erik and Raven, who ABSOLUTELY GROW AND CHANGE OVER TIME.

So no, Charles doesn't grow or change over time because... instead of doing that and going through the shit that a person should, he accidentally got what he thinks is the Master Plan. And ironically it's him trying to fit himself into that plan that spins everyone off into the new timeline, why the future that Logan returned to will never happen.

Anyway, the X-Men Alternate Timeline movies are just the story of how Charles Xavier becomes kind of the Bad Guy. And gd bless Erik for taking on the Herculean task of trying to rehabilitate Charles. Truly, Charles does not deserve this man.

[moonshynecybin]

pecco is like. a rose gardener. person who you hire to maintain your fancy green house full of rare trees. but also happy to just go weed the flower bed etc. i am picking a pecco luca situation obviously... some sort of atonement but happy vibes lmao. u get it??

LOVE this love pecco tending his roses love the idea of him applying his studious little approach to acing projects to the capricious whims of gardening and or yardwork… pecco strikes me as a learner a doer someone who likes to really THINK something through and WORK at things and then see the fruits of his labor pay off. as i’ve said project oriented imo. and a lot of gardening is thinking about the garden planning the garden researching the plants for the garden and then achieving those ends via physical labor. and idk i think he would enjoy it ! that seems like his vibe ! he’s gardening on that ducati.

like pecco on a gardening forum researching optimal moisture levels and planting times for all his little plants mixed in with the physical catharsis of weeding !! pecco getting compliments on the roses he spent hours pruning ! lil pinch on the cheek from an old lady when he says he grew them himself. pecco also. crucially. staring down the cabbage patch that’s been raided by worms like it is something he failed at personally. pecco tossing and turning at night because the roses have DISEASE and there’s not a lot he can do about it !!! pecco trying to teach bezz to propagate. pecco walkin around with his big ass yard tools exerting some control issues. he’s thriving

in terms of the LUCA of it all i think pecco is very self critical AND has a liddle bit of a hard time verbalizing his feelings so at the beginning of their relationship one of the things he like to do is (not TOO vulnerable but undeniably a GESTURE) give luca a bouquet of flower cuttings from his garden… that would be very cute 2 me… remembering that he couldnt even call domi by her NAME for a bit so he’s got some issues there dhhhdkgkg

and thennnn when they’re old and grey it’s luca lounging around in immaculately maintained old person gay man clothes reading a magazine in the garden in the sun while pecco is harrumphing about the seedlings getting snatched by rabbitsssss

[writingjourney]

Imagine⭐

You've known Papa Primo for a thousand years. You have lived together for many-many years. Although you are not much younger than him, but your husband is worried, that he is old for you, that you will stop loving him. But on the other hand, he sees, how you look at him. Just like before. Like he's the only man in this world. Both of you are not getting any younger, and the feelings between you are no longer as hot and unbridled as before, but they have become stronger, warmer. Let it be a little difficult for you to give each other physical love, but you can talk for a long time.

The Devil's Ivy | Primo x gn!reader

I love you anon and I love this headcanon. Primo deserves all the love and affection. Also, I wrote this while sick so pls bear with me.

content: 900 words, older gn!reader, just some wholesome fluff :)

Masterlist – Ao3 link

Epipremnum aureum, the devil’s ivy, almost a decade old but still alive and thriving.

Primo has been propagating this plant for an hour now, carefully cutting the stems with his sterilized pruning shears, removing leaves, placing the cuttings in fresh water. His patience astounds you, just like his growing expertise ever since he started to properly hone in on this former niche interest of his after retiring. Watching him so focused on his hobby is beautiful; it would be much more beautiful if you weren’t seeing that big line of worry on his forehead.

You leave your reading spot on the sofa to walk over to his sunny working station by the window. If he notices you, he doesn’t let on, only setting down his latest cutting and the shears when you mold yourself into his side, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Hello, handsome,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his soft cheek.

Your husband has changed a lot over the past two decades, just like you have. The years are much more visible on him, though, a man who had to shoulder all the heavy burdens that life as a high-ranking clergy member inevitably bestowed him with. They are etched into his skin now, visible in every line on his face, every wrinkle and age spot marring his hands, the slightly crouched way in which he walks. The responsibilities, the sacrifices he made in his faith, they mark his very soul, and his stern reputation has long since faded as he grew into a confidante, a mentor for many younger clergy members. You love his growing softness, physical as well as emotional. His caring nature had drawn you in when you met him more than half a lifetime ago, especially towards his brothers, hidden under so many protective layers of authority and sometimes even cruelty. But now it is showing so clearly that you can’t help but fall deeper in love with him every single day.

“Hello, fiore mio,” he replies, wrapping a slender arm around your waist.

“I love that you picked up gardening.” You lean into him, feeling his steady warmth. “I love you, Primo.”

He smiles. “Because I bring you flowers every day?”

You smirk. “Yes. But also no.”

“I love you, too,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “What made you get up from your comfortable spot on the couch to tell your old man this?”

“That unmistakable line of worry on your forehead.”

His expression changes, softens, and you lift your hand to smooth out the very crease you’ve been speaking of. He relaxes against your touch, wrapping his other arm around you as well until you’re properly nestled up to him.

“What is it, my love?” you ask, leaning back to catch his mismatched gaze.

A soft shake of his head. “It is silly. Silly old man thoughts.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Primo sighs, his fingertips digging into your flesh ever so slightly as he tightens his grip on you. “I am old, amore– No, hush!” You close your mouth again at his scowl. “I am old, it is true. You are the best thing in my life, fiore mio. I am grateful for you every day and I want you to be happy with me always, so it is natural that I worry about this, yes? That I am too old for you?”

You smile softly, running the backs of your fingers over his cheek. “I suppose it is normal, yes.”

He takes your hand that’s still hovering close to his face and brings it to his lips. “I worry about this sometimes but then I see you like this, looking at me with such love, treating me like I am the only man in the world, like I am still young and desirable.”

“You are still desirable. And you know I’m not getting any younger either.”

He shakes his head dismissively. “Your beauty only grows every day, amore.”

You feel your cheeks heating up as he presses a tender kiss to your knuckles, then another and another until you can’t help but giggle like you did when you were young and head-over-heels in love with him. And you still are that person, in many ways, only that your love has changed, evolved from a heated, passionate intensity to this soft, lingering feeling of bliss that every action now carries. The years have not weathered your love for each other but made it stronger and the solidity of those feelings, of your trust in each other, is worth more than anything else in the world.

“I will make some tea now,” you decide. “And you take a break to sit with me for a while.”

He nods, shoulders slumping as his worries slowly leave him. “Thank you, amore.”

You smile, holding his face in your hands to look into his familiar eyes. Throughout all those years together, the excited glimmer when he sees you has never once disappeared, and you feel ever so grateful that you get to see it every single day. When you lean in to press a proper kiss to his lips, he reciprocates and keeps you close for just a little bit longer.

Maybe these moments are how you propagate your love. And with a little care and patience every now and then, you know it will thrive, just like his devil’s ivy, for many years to come.

[ofc-vi-writes-too]

More Bucky Headcanons just because ✨✨

some are +18 so if that makes u uncomfy or u are -18 please scroll!! It is clearly labelled where they start, so if u only want one or the other the division is there!!

this got kinda long lol sorry

—————————————

PG 13 SECTION:

• He has a lot of old fashioned/outdated beliefs so sometimes he’ll say something and you just have to look at him and go 😀😄😀 “no.” and then have a conversation with him about why what he just said is objectively morally corrupt. He’s very open to it and it doesn’t happen a lot but when it does he’s willing to understand and he asks questions about whatever messed up thing he said. He’s very progressive for a man who was in his early 20’s in 1945.

• he has a lot of old fashioned/outdated beliefs so ur dates are literally superior and your instagram is filled with people commenting things like “if you look closely you can see me swinging in the background” or “hey god its me again” and you cant forget the classic “when will it be my turn.” He brings you flowers at least once a week, and chocolates are a MUST for him, and as soon as he found out about edible arrangements there is one on your desk at work at least once a month. you tell him your gonna get fat from all the sweets he brings you and he says “good” and thats the end of that convo.

• on the note of food, he’s a fantastic cook. Most of the time. He has tried on multiple occasions to feed you depression era foods (balogna caserole, jello molds, pea pasta, etc) one time he made you a jello mold with olives and tuna in it and you got physically sick (it was the first time he saw you throw up so he kinda just stood there like 😬 and patted your back like “there there, my bad ill never give you tuna+jello in the same dish again” which he STILL makes for himself) so he decided to stick with more modern recipes for actual meals (which are always delicious). But he swears on his life that dessert recipes were better when he was a kid, and he always bakes you the sweets his mom made when he was little such as, apple pie, wacky cake, water pie, prune pudding, frozen fruit salad.

• he really likes crispy cookies so he’ll take urs out when theyre cooked the regular amount, and he leaves his in the oven for like another 10 minutes at minimum. He likes it best when the edges of the cookies are literally burnt and when the chocolate even gets crispy. He dips em in milk though which i guess is slightly redeeming? But the crunch on his cookies should be punishable by law. It counds like crisps when he chews.

• Texts like:

Bucky ❤️❤️

Hey…

hey?? u good?

Yes. I just wanted to say

I love you…

ilyt.. y r u being

so ominous?

I am not…

I just wanted to send you

this big long paragraph chunk

about how much I love you. It

has to be grammatically correct

because I’m old and it will take

me 15 minutes at minimum to

finish typing this text because

I am typing with one hand, and

I have big thumbs. Thank god

for voice memos. Also what

does OMG mean?

————————————————————————

it drives you insane but he physically cannot comprehend any other way to text. He also had a flip phone until you forced him to get a new one. When he gets it he doesn’t send you texts anymore, and instead only sends voice memos (its so much faster)

• loves a sweet treat but is terribly embarrassed about it. Literally the trope where the big scary guy orders a black coffee “for himself” and his cute girly gf gets like a sugar unicorn rainbow suprise, and after they get their drinks they switch. He makes you order it with extra whipped cream and sprinkles. If you like sweet drinks too, he will still order the black coffee and not drink it. He will consistently order 3 drinks despite there only being 2 of you. Sometimes he drops it off w Steve because he knows he likes black coffee and he hates waste, but he is still too embarrassed to just order his drink.

• cried watching Up, Toy Story 2, The Princess and the Frog, Moana, The beauty and the beast (which was ur halloween costume the year he first watched it. His choice.) and Cars (you still don’t know why he cried about cars to this day and it has been YEARS.)

• despite being an ex assassin, when he’s not in fight or flight mode he’s terribly unathletic. He talks big game before a bowling date and he literally bowls a 45. You didn’t know anyone over the age of 8 could score that low in a game where you simply roll a ball. You also took him to In Shape to play tennis and he hit a car with the ball.

• his body physically cannot handle energy drinks. as much sugar as he consumes, energy drinks make him jittery and paranoid for some reason, and despite being a relatively quiet man, he doesn’t shut up when there’s a red bull in his system

• pro legalizing weed in all states. Tried an edible one time before bed because he overheard someone say it or read somewhere that it can help with sleep, and he swears he had never slept that good in over 100 years of being alive. Even pre super soldier serum.

• He’s a man of few words so in the beginning of u 2 going out there would be long periods of awkward silence. He took you on a lot of movie dates so he could avoid this problem as much as possible.

•Def doesn’t wear his arm to bed so you guys have an easier time spooning. You don’t have to deal with the problem that a lot of couples have where you wanna cuddle but his arm falls asleep cs ur laying on it. but for him theres no arm to lay on!!!! yippeee!!! Cuddling in bed typically looks like him being the big spoon with his right arm around your waist. His left shoulder is in whatever position his decides is comfortable that night. He also has a habit of not sleeping with his head on the pillow so you typically feel his nose/breathe against the small of your back. He often kisses you there while rubbing your side to put you to sleep

• cuddling is a little different when he has a bad nightmare tho. Sometimes he doesn’t want to cuddle so he’ll lay on the floor on your side of the bed and go back to sleep there, or at least try to. Thats usually what happens if you don’t wake up. If you do, you go and get him a glass of water, and a cold rag to wipe is sweat off. You give him a minute until he’s ready to lay back down. He lays on his back, and you suction yourself to his side. One leg over his and your arm on his chest, rubbing soothing patterns to try and slow his hammering heart. You kiss where you can reach, but he’s huge, so its usually just his shoulder and chest, and you tell him all your favorite things about him, and how much you love him, and how safe he is here in your arms. It works 95% of the time.

RATED R SECTION:

• its ur lucky day if ur a pillow princess! he likes being able to physically take care of his partner without them having to do any work. He feels like it’s his way of saying thank you for staying with him thru all his trauma and whatnot

• if his s/o is plus sized he will make the effort to be able to lift 2 times their weight bare minimum (which doesn’t take that much effort on his part), and he gets a little smug when he lifts his partner up against the wall the first time and they’re a little shocked because hey no one has ever been able to do that before what is happening oh noooo BOOM you’re in love

• usually not the one to initiate anything. He feels like he’s pressuring you when he does, but you can always tell when he’s in the mood because he gets clingy and cannot look you in the eye.

• in the same vein, he doesn’t really get horny that often but when he does… whew chile GOOD LUCK. Super human stamina is a gift and a curse with him!!

• he doesn’t like to mark you up, but he loves it when you do. He likes getting done and seeing the scratches on his back in the mirror, or having to cover up hickeys with turtlenecks. His favorite is when he makes you help him cover the harder to hide ones to his with makeup. (he bought the right color for himself but didn’t know how to use it). LOVE LOVE LOVES when you bite him.

• Again, he’s typically a man of few words but he will mumble random things “to himself” but loud enough for you to barely hear it too. a lot of “so fucking good,” “pretty girl” “all mine” “all yours” “tell me I’m yours” “say your mine” and other things of that nature

• I think I said this in the last one but I’m a firm believer that he wouldn’t wear his arm unless he had to/felt unsafe. and I would argue that he feels pretty safe if yall are doing the shaboingboing. SO holding you is a little difficult for your amputee bf. Getting into a good and comfortable position for both of you tends to bring a lot of laughs.

•He likes to touch you a lot while y’all are getting down and dirty. It helps ground him in a way. He struggles a little bit with dissociation, even when getting intimate so being able to feel your skin under his palms helps keep him on Earth and focused on getting his s/o off.

————————————————————————

A/N: thank you if you resd this far. dont be shy and leave a note behind! i have more chapters of friends dont on the way i swear. Im genuinelu just slow IM SORRY AHH

anyways good night cuties 🌙💫⭐️✨

[marsipaniscool]

I have to ask about your thoughts on how kars was radicalized because i've seen the wham post and now I'm curious

:D! okie dokie! 1.7k words of young kars angst is served hot and ready! also slight esikars in part 2 ! :) TW: brief description of violence [1/2] under the cut for length

(I will be assuming that Kars' former tribe is the only pillar tribe on earth, I simply haven't thought about other tribes :,) ) SO let's start with just a general overview of Kars' life. He's 103,000 years old, according to the wiki. It's mentioned several times, both directly and indirectly (Wamuu and Santana's ages now vs. when they were shown to have been taken at infancy), that the pillar tribe was only slaughtered by Esidisi and Kars 10,000 years ago. So, that's 93,000 years Kars spent with his tribe being abused and chastised.

The pillar tribe was a small and tight-knit community with few distinctions politically, economically, or socially. This social wealth fostered an attitude of peace towards nature, humans, and themselves. The tribe had long made peace with their inability to bask in the sun, fostering a story similar to that of Abrahamic Adam and Eve. A group of pillar people upset the sun god, and, as punishment, their people were banished from the sun for all eternity. Surviving the night of life was necessary for the light of the afterlife.

Kars, when he came of age, followed in his family's footsteps and became an apprentice to his father in natural philosophy, with a focus on medicinal alchemy. He didn't mind, having had an interest in science for as long as he could remember. His parents, masters of the subject, lovingly fostered this interest. Every star and constellation, every planet, every asteroid band, everything in the night sky he knew. He knew the clouds too—that odd shade of grey. He wasn't fond of them very much; they blocked out the stars.

It started with irritation at having to rush miles into the forest surrounding the temples at dusk, just to hope to get to the blossoms he needed for his latest project. He often failed, the flowers long since pruned by the creatures of the light. Even a scrap of a petal seldom remained for Kars.

That irritation became anger when the humans who worshiped them would have sun-kissed skin, and the children would still smell of the ocean waves. They'd laugh and tell stories of how warm and lovely it was. He rushed out into the evening one day, as soon as it was safe, only to feel heat boil in his chest as the air around him grew colder, no longer warmed by the sun. To indulge in the sun, all of it, to be able to feel the warmth on his skin and to be burned, if even for a moment, was all he desired. He wanted to pick the flowers and the fruits that flourished during the day and feel the life flow through them—life given by the sun.

It bothered him greatly that he came from the flesh of the earth, the same as any creature, yet he and his people are the only ones to be cursed like this. He doesn't understand why they're so complacent or why they're so accepting of their fate in the darkness.

First, he goes to his father, the man who spoiled him and loved him his entire life. He paces around frustratedly, hands running through his hair, horns fully protruding, and lets out centuries of buried anger. His father stops him mid-sentence with a hand, laughing loudly.

"The sun isn't a friend, nor is it a foe. It's not something to be feared nor conquered. It simply is not our dominion. While the moon doesn't hurt the humans that worship us, many fear it and the darkness it heralds. They tell stories of monsters, of horrific demonic creatures in the night. The sun is their dominion, as the moon is ours."

Kars went to the elders, only to be met with recommendations to visit the tribe's shaman and to be induced into a lengthy meditation with their moon goddess.

He was infuriated now. Why didn't anyone understand? Whenever he brought up concerns he deemed worthwhile, they were dismissed with, "This is just how things are!"

Word spread quickly among the small tribe, with the older men coming to mock him every morning and evening when he would head out to see the last rays of the sun peaking over the horizon. It escalated to outright mockery wherever he would go. At meals: "Is this food as warm as the sun?" Whenever he would wear jewelry of the sun, he was boisterously, cruelly laughed at, and had it ripped off of him. He used to love wearing gold, the colour of the sun; it complimented his hair and complexion so well, he thought. His tribe laughed at him and dirtied his garments with mud, rotted meat, and whatever vile fluids and liquidy things that were within reach. Black was the colour of the night, and it didn't show the stains. He started wearing his hair up, first in braids, then in buns, then in his wraps. He was tired of it getting mucked up, tangled, yanked, and abused.

One night he entered the galley, and as he stood on the stone pedestal overlooking the table, he realised there was no seat for him. He left as silent as he came.

[strawberrystepmom]

f!reader is the goddess of love (aphrodite) and kakashi is a mortal. reader is obviously very old (godcore) and kakashi is in his canon age in naruto (27). im tagging @zorosdimples bc this is also partially another birthday present for her LMFAO. love u!!!!!!! wc 1.7k

divider thanks to @/saradika 🩷

You kneel near a red rose bush, delicate petals fluttering around on one of the last warm breezes of the summer and brushing over your exposed arms. It isn’t much longer that you’ll be able to visit the realm of the mortals in your lightest robes, the ones that hang off of your shoulders in a way that makes you most comfortable. 

The unencumbered feeling of the warmest time of the year still flows through you despite the fact that the sun dips earlier and earlier every single day and verdant green slowly turns to russet and yellow, leaves swaying overhead even in the garden you’re visiting. You glance up from the bush in front of you, red petals dancing and settling across your skirt, and witness them wave to you, as if they’re saying goodbye to you themselves. 

Shaking your head, you laugh and look back down, plucking one of the petals from your skirt and rubbing it between your thumb and index finger. It’s as velvety as you pictured it would be, soft as your skin, and it makes you wonder when the purveyor of these fine roses in tribute to you will arrive to make himself known.

Kakashi Hatake, a man whose likeness lingers in your psyche. You’ve been watching him for years, his offerings growing in both size and intimacy since he was a young man and it would be a struggle to remember the last time you wished to meet a mortal as badly as you find yourself wishing to meet him. You desire to see the man who cultivated such fine roses in the flesh, petting another petal between your fingertips. It’s the least you can grace him with, despite your true intentions being wanting to see this man who has won your affection through nothing more than devotion.

Affection, you think. You are the goddess of the very emotion and this is deeper than simple affection. 

You’re infatuated with him. When you lay with your husband, captor you’re more likely to call him, you think of him. When you wander through the veil of the mortals and gods, which you are, you think of him. His scarred eye that he believes makes him unworthy of worshiping you, the way his gray hair sticks up at all angles on top of his head. 

A sigh as gentle as the breeze escapes you as you sit back and think of the first time you remember seeing him.

It started years ago at the local temple erected in your honor, Kakashi paying tribute with prayer and apples daily after his hunts had finished. He’d leave his bloodied bow and boots at the entrance, propping them against pristine gray marble to stick out like the red of the very roses he now grows in your honor, and enter the temple to kneel at your feet. 

“Goddess,” he asked, his voice carrying the deep timbre of a man.  “I’ve come to request your blessing.”

You granted it without a second thought that day and have since, enamored with the young man asking for you. The man who, over the years, would visit your shrine to read poetry and love stories. The man covered in blood whose heart has always been deceptively tender beneath a scarred and hardened outside, years of hunting beneath the blistering sun for his family, his village, his friends.

It’s time to offer him yourself as tribute to him given all that he has offered to you.

“I was beginning to worry that you’d never arrive,” you finally speak over your shoulder, turning your head enough to watch him approaching where you sit. You hear his footsteps stop, standing in the grassy clearing with his mouth agape. He tilled, planted, and pruned this garden himself - his own devotional paradise to his favorite goddess and here you sit, sundrenched skin and hair and lips. 

Did he die? Is this the afterlife he always longed for, a chance to live without burdensome responsibilities? To be the man he has always been beneath the tarnish of his life?

“Come, don’t keep me waiting.”

You pat the grass next to you, still coyly gazing from above your shoulder blade, and his footsteps pick up once again though slowly. Taking a moment before speaking, he wiggles his hands and fingers to make sure he still has feeling in them. He wonders if he shouldn’t run and hurl himself against the trunk of the trees surrounding you just to ensure he is alive and this is not a dream.

“Was I gored?” He speaks aloud and you laugh, musical and dancing on the wind. Just as he always imagined he’d heard while he spent his time in your tribute. Immediately he notices his gaffe and his face reddens, still walking toward you with his nose pointed toward the ground. He doesn’t notice when you stand, turning to face him while the petals that accumulated in the folds of your robes flutter at your feet.

Oh he has to be dead, he’s just grateful that this is the paradise he has come to live his afterlife in.

“You are alive and well, Kakashi.”

He nods, ignorant of what else to do, and you giggle. Dropping your skirts out of one of your balled fists, you produce a small parchment that you’ve been holding onto for a very long time, the edges worn and bent with the weight of your fingers tracing around the edges. You offer it in his direction and he blanches, noticing the handwriting on the paper belongs to him.

“Do you remember this?” You ask knowing that he does, given the way his eyes drift from the paper in your hand to your face and back several times. It sends a chill through you to see the color of them in person - deep like a stormcloud yet light like the marble of that temple he used to frequent years ago. He’s beautiful and who knows beauty better than you, the goddess of the very concept itself?

“I do, goddess,” he nods and reaches for the parchment, fully unrolling it and letting his eyes rove over his own words. He wrote this 8 birthdays ago, a young man full of love so thick he lived in fear it would erupt out and ruin him like that of a volcano. Hot and searing, melting all left in its path. He sighs, scanning over the poem he knows is less impressive than any you’ve probably ever had written in your honor and wonders why this is the one you’ve kept.

Have you come to punish him for his tributes and their lack in comparison to the others that love you?

“How did you come into possession of this?”

You smile at his question, approaching him with soft footsteps. He’s a hunter, after all, trained to notice the footsteps of prey and predators alike. You want to present yourself as neither as you offer no threat to him. Even if he were to decline your affections, you’d let him live. It would sear through you and you’d imagine his face in place of that of your beastly husband daily for the rest of your days, but you’d understand. A dalliance between a mortal and a Goddess often leads to trouble and this is a man who has always tried very hard to stay out of such affairs.

“I plucked it from the temple myself all those years ago,” you explain, offering your hand to him. His eyes dart nervously again and you reach down to take his hand, rubbing your soft thumb across his calloused palms. 

“Surely this is an illusion,” he whispers, heart beating so rapidly he worries you’ll be able to see it through his worn linen shirt. This man is a hunter, a warrior, a teacher of the youth in his village in the same techniques that have kept them alive for decades and he has been rendered nothing more than an uncertain mess at the sight of you. “This…this cannot be happening.”

“And why do you say that, mortal?”

He straightens his back at the reminder of your place over his own, a goddess in the flesh, holding his hand and tenderly caressing the wound he received while teaching one of the village children to care for his spear.

“Because you are you and I am myself,” he mutters. “This cannot be.”

He watches your lips curve into a smile, hair swaying as you shake your head at his mortal sensibilities to believe he knows better than the goddess he has been paying tribute to for nearly his entire life.

“If you wish it not to be then it shall not be but please consider that I’ve been waiting for you as well before you turn me away.”

Kakashi raises his brow, curious as to what you mean. He says nothing and you take his silence as permission to continue speaking, still smoothing over the creases in his palm with your thumb.

“Consorting with mortals always has a potential cost but I’m willing to pay that to even speak to you,” you purport and his jaw drops again, brows knitting together in confusion.

“To…me?”

You nod, lacing your fingers between his. You do not bristle when he doesn’t immediately grasp you back, willing to allow him his comfort.

“You, who has left me poetry that makes all others pale in comparison. Who planted this rose bush and the dozens of others dotting this garden, felling the thorns as they bloom.”

For a moment he allows himself to embrace the fantasy you’re painting for him. The Goddess of Beauty and Love, pining for him just as he’s pined for you. He has spent many lonely nights in his life dreaming of a blessing from you but never imagined this would be the one.

Your delicate fingers wrapped around his knuckles, your sun warmed cheeks upturned in a smile.

“Come, let’s talk,” you offer, keeping your grip on his hand as the two of you walk toward the rose bush. 

You’re willing to do some convincing if you need it but given the red tips of his ears, you don’t believe it’ll take much.

[kkcauseway]

Life

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader Summary: Just a little fic, no outbreak, Sarah doesn’t die, nor does she have a deadbeat, stupid ass mom. Cus that girl deserves so much more. Plus you get to live out the fantasy of having babies with Joel what's more to like <3 Not much smut, but it’s just a cute ass story. With a happy ending. Characters: Joel Miller, Sarah Miller, Ellie Williams, Tommy Miller, Maria Miller & You Content & warnings: Depictions of childbirth, family fluff, protective!Joel, Joel being the best Dad, no use of Y/N, no outbreak.

Read from Joel's POV I Series Masterlist I Main Masterlist

You wake with a gasp, clasping at your lower stomach, breathing heavily. You’ve been having pains on and off the past few hours before bed, but you and Joel, both put it off as Braxton-hicks, as they were really irregular. But when you try to sit up and you feel the pain travelling from front to back, it's different, you know what it means. You’ve actually been labouring all evening. It’s the middle of the night, the house dark and silent, Joel’s splayed out next to you on his stomach, his arm over your legs, but you know it’s time. Three days from your due date, there's no denying it. You know the signs and having already had Sarah, you can tell your body is ready.

The pain doesn’t last long, but it’s definitely worse than any of the others you’ve been having over the course of the day. It’s time.

Carefully you remove Joel’s arm from your legs. He stirs slightly, but not enough to wake. You bring your legs over the side of the bed, giving yourself a second, before quietly getting up. A bath is the best thing right now, a way to relax you in the beginning of labour, and there’s no need to wake Joel any earlier than necessary. He’s a worrier, and you don’t want to put him through that.

You quietly walk into the bathroom and begin running the bath. Leaning against the sink as you wait for it to fill. But before you can say or do anything, another contraction takes over you. You begin to sway your hips in an effort to help you through the pain and take deep breaths. Trying your best to remain quiet, breathing softly through it. Once it’s over you finish preparing the bath, adding in some lavender bath salts to calm you. You step in, the lifting of your leg causing a twinge in your back that makes you wince. You then settle yourself down slowly, letting out a soft moan as your stomach hits the water. It’s the best you’ve felt in a while.

About an hour passes, you’ve managed to get through the few contractions you’ve had quite well, the water really helping. You sit and think. Appreciate the life you have, the people you’re surrounded by you take a moment to think back to little ten-year-old you, who dreamt of this every day and didn’t think it was possible. We made it! And we are so happy! It brings tears to your eyes. You feel so complete, so full of love for your family, you could burst. A family of three will soon become four, that thought lingers as you breathe silently through a pain, it makes it all worth it.

You wish you could stay in that moment forever, but your fingers now look more like prunes than fingers and the water has begun going cold. Looking across the room, you can see Joel has left a fluffy towel there for you. Remembering you had told him before you went to sleep, that you were going to have a bath in the morning if you still felt the same. God that man is amazing! He really does think of everything!

As you begin to lift yourself up to get out, another contraction comes over you, much stronger than the ones you’d had previously, and it really hurts. Crippling almost. Realising you’re going to need Joel’s help you have no choice but to call for him.

“Oh Shit. Joel!” you shout.

“Joeeel!” you shout again sounding much more defeated this time, but still in agony.

“I’m coming baby!” he shouts half asleep.

The bathroom door swins open, and a naked Joel finds you on your knees in the water, gripping the side of the bath, gritting your teeth as you scream your way through the contraction.

“It’s okay shhhh, Baby breathe” Joel strokes your lower back, you can hear the worry in his voice.

When you manage to catch your breath back “Fuck Joel, that one hurt”. You say lowering yourself back onto your heels in the tub. Joel moves with you coming to squat besides the bath as he faces you.

“It’s okay, you’re doing amazin’ baby” he kisses your forehead, “is it time?”.  He says rubbing your arms as he looks into your eyes.

“I- Yeah, I’m pretty sure it is”. You whine as a tear runs down your cheek.

“Oh baby, why didn’t you wake me earlier?” he wipes the tears from your eyes before holding his hands on your cheeks.

“I’ve been okay, I didn’t wana worry you any earlier than I needed to. And this is exactly what I was afraid of, and it happened anyway. I’m sorry.”

“Baby, you should’ve woke me earlier and don’t you dare say sorry, you aint got nothin’ t’be sorry for.”

“Honestly Joel, I promise you I’ve been okay. Was no point us both been awake when there was nothing we could do, but I’m gonna need your help now with getting out please. I swear you make big babies Miller and right now, they’re pushing right down.” You half laugh.

“I got you Darlin’, c’mon” Joel stands before helping you out of the bath, grabbing the towel to wrap you up in and bringing you into his arms. Holding you tight. You stay like that in a comfortable silence for a moment. Snuggling into Joel’s chest.

“Y’know I knew second babies were faster, but this seems super-fast.” It’s muffled as you say it into his chest. He hums in response. You look up at him then “Can we go back into the bedroom? I wanna go sit on the bed; my back’s killing”.

He kisses the top of your head then “Course baby, c’mon let’s get you comfy.”

Joel walks you into the bedroom and helps you sit on the bed. He helps you to dry off and put on an oversized lounge set, he then gets up, grabs some fluffy socks out of the drawer and puts them on your feet; knowing how cold your toes get. Finally decent, you move to sit against the headboard, propped up against the pillows, resting your hand on your stomach whilst you stare at Joel. “Thank you for always being so good to me Cowboy”. You smile.

He looks at you so full of admiration and love you think he might burst, and he takes your free hand in between his; “Baby I love you so much, and the fact that I have this amazin’ life and I share it with you, and you’ve given me Sarah, now this baby too, I am so so grateful to you, I’ll do anythin’ and everythin’ for you, always.” He kisses your hand, and when he’s sure you’re comfortable (well as comfortable as you can be all things considered) he goes and grabs some clothes for himself. You struggle through another pain whilst he’s preoccupied this one bearable alone. You think just knowing Joel is near helps. His presence alone enough to calm you through the pain. The pains are getting stronger and closer together, which you know means you’re progressing as you should be, but it’s definitely progressing faster than it did with Sarah.

When Joel is dressed, you can tell he’s petrified, even if he’s trying to act like he isn’t. You know it’s hard for him especially considering he strives through life making sure you’re happy and healthy, you know this is the only situation ever, that he’s felt helpless in, and it scares him that he’s going to witness it again. He’s pacing back and forth, and so, settles on checking all the bags are packed ready to go by the door, then he finally calls Tommy.

‘Tommy, hey bud sorry it’s late, we need you to come over’-

-‘yeah, it’s time’-

He laughs

-‘Okay perfect I’ll let her know, see you soon, thanks Tommy.’

He puts his phone back in his pocket before making his way back over to you on the bed, sitting at you side. “He says they’ll be twenty minutes max, should’ve heard the squeal Maria let out.”

“Anyone would think it’s her baby! But amazing thank you” you take a deep breath, before hitting your knees with your palms “right shall we go wake up our girl, let her know her sibling wants to say hello?” You giggle at the thought; wow Sarah is going to be a big sister.

“You know what; I still can’t get over that we are doin’ this again” he smiles, then walks up to you and bends down to kiss your forehead “I love you baby”.

“I love you so much” you say before kissing his lips and then go to get up, Joel is there to help you. He really is the best husband you could ask for.

You walk or rather waddle across the hall to Sarah’s door, with your husband at your side. A hand rests softly on your lower back. He only leaves you then, in order to knock, before slowly pushing it open. Sarah is fast asleep, her nightlight highlighting her gorgeous features. She really is the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen, and no you aren’t just biased in that opinion because she’s your daughter. It’s 100% true. She begins to rouse as Joel steps a foot into the room. “Daddy?” she mumbles sleepily. Just as you go to enter, another contraction washes over you, so you hang back against the outside wall, riding it out, nodding for Joel to continue in. You bite your arm to remain silent. You don’t want to scare Sarah.

“Hey Baby girl!” it’s an excited whisper.

Sarah looks to the window and notices it’s still dark. Rubbing her eyes, she looks back to her dad. “Daddy, it’s not morning.”

“No Baby, I know, listen, me and Mama have somethin’ t’tell you.” He replies as he takes a seat on her bed.

She yawns as she sits up straighter in her bed, intrigued.

“Where is Mama, was she shouting?” the concern evident in her voice.

He strokes her head “She will be in, in a minute Baby. Now listen your new little brother or sister wants to say hello, so we need to go to the hospital, Uncle Tommy and Aunt Maria are on the way to come and stay with you, while me and Mama are gone okay.”

“The baby’s coming?”

“Yeah baby girl, the baby’s comin’”

“Yay, okay!” it’s an excited squeal, one that reiterates the adoration and love she has for her unborn sibling already.

With the pain gone and the sweat mopped up, so you look somewhere close to ‘half decent’, you walk into Sarah’s room.

“Mama!” she bounces in her place on the bed.

“Hi my pretty girl!”

“You okay?” Joel quickly interrupts as he turns to look at you.

“Fine, honestly” you smile.

He nods in response.

“Can you come and sit with me Mama?” Sarah taps the place on her bed next to her as she shuffles over slightly.

“Of course, baby”

You slowly sink yourself down onto the spot free next to her on the bed, with a groan. Joel moves to be sat near to her feet, so you have space to stretch out. You place an arm around Sarah and the other on your stomach.

“So, the baby is coming tonight, Mama?” she asks as she cuddles into you.

You rub her arm as “Maybe tonight, or maybe tomorrow.”

You sit in silence for a moment then. Cuddling Sarah soaking up her love; the last few moments of it being only the three of you.

Then Joel adds in as he taps her foot “Hey Sarah, last time to put your bet in, what’s it gonna be a boy or a girl?”

“It’s a sister I know it, she told me” certainty on her tongue.

“Oh yeah, and when did ‘she’ apparently tell you this?” you reply with a giggle.

“When me and her were talking one day, you know we like to talk” she says it like she can’t believe you’re asking, that you’re stupid for not knowing exactly how she knows.

“Well, we will soon see, me and Daddy think it’s a boy” you boop her nose as you laugh.

“But I don’t want a - Oh- Mama? Are you okay?”

As Sarah begins to reply to you, another pain washes over your body, causing you to yelp slightly, but you try your best to hide the pain. As to not scare Sarah. You squeeze your eyes shut as you breathe your way through it.

“Mama’s okay Baby” Joel reassures as he strokes a hand up and down your leg “this is just your baby brother or sister tryna get out”. He then adds “Breathe Mama.”

“Oh” Sarah moves slightly in your arms, so she can rub some hair out of your face and behind your ear. Kissing your check once she has done it. Sarah copies what Joel says “breathe Mama.”

Once the pain has subsided you squeeze Sarah as hard as you can, “Thank you so much for helping me through that pain, that kiss was very nice” you kiss the top of her head. Sarah then moves a hand to your belly and wriggles out of your arms, so she can move to bring her mouth to your belly. She lifts up your top to expose your belly and whispers against the skin; “don’t hurt Mama please baby sister” she kisses your tummy and adds “I can’t wait to meet you.” She really is the most beautiful six-year-old ever, the most considerate little girl.

You sit there embracing and soaking in every last second as the three musketeers, life is never going to be the same again after this. So you really do soak up every last second. Eventually there is a distant knock drawing all three of your attention’s. Joel is quick to stand up and is out of the room in the same breath.

You turn to Sarah again; “Come give me a big big hug, I’m gonna miss you soooo much.”

“I’m going to miss you too Mama, will you be gone long?” she mumbles into your chest as she hugs you tight.

“We shouldn’t be baby; I think we will be home by tomorrow night at the very latest, but I will call you so that you know okay?”

“Okay, Mama, oh and you know somethin’?”

“What’s that honey?” you stroke her hair.

“I am so happy you’re my Mama, and I’m so happy you’re baby sisters Mama too, we have the best one in the whole world” the sentimental thoughts this little girl has melt you. You’re amazed that she knows exactly what to say, and when to say it. She makes every situation good or bad 10x better.

“Oh, thank you Baby, I really love you so much. You know that?” you can’t help the tears that begin to fall down your cheeks then. You sniffle, which gains Sarah’s attention, and she looks up at you.

“Oh, I’m sorry Mama, I didn’t mean to make you sad” she reaches a hand to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

“You didn’t make me sad baby, I promise, these are happy tears, you made me really happy”. You kiss her forehead.

The bedroom door opens again, and Joel, Tommy and Maria all walk into the room. Both you and Sarah look towards them.

“Hey stinker!” Tommy shouts

“Hey Uncle Tommy, hi Maria!”

Joel notices that you’re crying and is straight to your side “You, okay?” he then reaches to Sarah’s bedside table to get you a tissue.

You take it from him with thanks “I’m fine, I promise, Sarah was being Sarah, and now I’m crying. You know how it goes”. You laugh wetly as you dab under your eyes with the tissue.

“Oh, I do.” He turns to Sarah, stroking her cheek “You’re the best aint you baby girl”. She giggles in response.

He then looks back to you “Right Baby, you ready to go?”

“Yeah” you smile and take a deep breath. “Let’s go have a baby!”

Joel holds out both his hands to you and he helps you to swing your legs back over the side of the bed. He then helps to pull you up with a groan. You take a second to catch your bearings, now you are back on your feet. Joel helps to walk you slightly to the middle of the room, so Tommy and Maria are able to position themselves on the bed by Sarah. You watch as Maria takes your position, she cuddles up to Sarah and strokes her head. You’re so happy she’s in good hands whilst you’re gone. Tommy and Maria have always been so good to Sarah.

Still holding one of Joels hands; “right Sarah, you have to be really good for Tommy and Maria okay baby- you need to make sure- ugh” you say as you place your freehand under your bump feeling a pain beginning, Joel grabs hold of you tight then- “make sure to listen to-f-fuck!” you grip onto Joel’s arm like it’s a lifeline and move back to face him.

He shushes you and offers you his other arm too, so you can hold onto him properly and sway. You push your forehead into his shoulder. You can’t help but be vocal this time, in too much pain to be able to control the moans that come out of your mouth. “Y’got this baby” Joel whispers into your hair. As the pain begins to subside you can just about hear as Tommy tells Sarah you didn’t mean the ‘no no’ word you said. Sarah just laughs in response.

When the pain is completely gone, you look Joel in the eye, he can see you’re already beginning to feel deflated. Yet he also has a cheeky half smile on his face, and you remember what you had just said. You stand up tall again and turn back to look at Sarah. “Mama is sorry for saying that baby, I didn’t mean it, be good for Tommy and Maria, listen to what they say okay? I love you.”

“Love you too Mama!” she blows you a kiss and you pretend to catch it and placing it on your heart, before blowing her one back.

As you begin to walk out of her bedroom Joel turns to look back at the three of them; “Tommy, I’ll be in touch, thank you for havin’ her. See you soon baby girl, be good, love you”!

“Love you too Daddy, make sure to look after Mama”.

“I will, I promise!”

Tommy and Maria both shout good luck and you make your way downstairs, grabbing the hospital bags that you left by the door, and then you’re on your way.

🩷🩵🩷

You’ve been at the hospital about an hour when your midwife comes into the room.

“Hi, I’m Sally your midwife, how are we both doing?”

“Good thanks, but definitely progressing much faster than I expected.”

“Well, there’s never really been a time scale for these thing, your baby must just be super eager to make an appearance! Are you okay if I check you, just to see how far along you are?”

You nod, but are sidetracked by a very painful wave, overtaking your body once more. You sit up taller in the bed, breathing and moaning your way through the pain. Joel is rubbing your lower back, ‘counterpressure’ her remembers the midwife at Sarah’s birth called it, it doesn’t really do much, but you enjoy feeling his presence and care. Once the pain ends, Joel helps you to shift in the bed, so you’re able to get into a suitable position for the examination; offering his hand. You take it gratefully and part your legs so the midwife can get to work.

“Okay, six centimetres, coming right along, well done! Won’t be too much longer now hopefully” she snaps her gloves off.

“Oh, thank goodness” you groan.

“Now am I right in thinking it’s in your birth plan to have a water birth, if we have a room with a pool free? Is that still what you want?”

“I would Love that! I really regret not having a water birth with Sarah.”

She nods “okay, no problem, I’ll get onto the case and find out if we have a room, I’ll be back with the verdict asap, in the meantime, I’ll be right outside if you need me, okay? That red button to your right, press it if you need me, I’ll come running, literally! Especially if your water breaks okay, shout me!”

“Will do, thank you nurse.” Joel responds.

With the door shut and the midwife out of the room you turn to Joel.

“She’s nice” you smile.

“Yeah, I like her” Joel agrees.

“Hey not too much longer baby and we will be a family of four, how crazy is that!” you add excitedly.

“I can’t wait. Do you think Sarah is right about it bein’ another girl?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I know she really wants a sister, so I would love to give her one. But either way she will be the best big sister, I know that much.”

“Oh, she most definitely will, I have to agree with you there Darlin’.”

Joel moves his hand out of the grasp of yours and begins to caress your belly. Making gentle work of it, as he knows just about any pressure on it right now is painful. You let out a pleasurable moan in response. His palms tickling your belly in a really relaxing way. His baby kicking in response every so often.

“God, I really hope I can have a water birth.”

“I’m praying for you Baby”. He says as he leans down to kiss your stomach.

🩷🩵🩷

Two hours later, again, your breathing begins to speed up as another pain takes over you whilst you lie on your side in the hospital bed. You grab onto Joel’s arm as you moan with the pain. You lean into him, curling your body tight. He uses the arm you don’t have a hold of, to rub up and down your back.

“You got this baby, I’m so proud of you”.

“Ugh, it really hurts” your voice breaks and you can’t help the tears that begin to fall “I can’t do it anymore”.

“You can baby, you can. You’ve got this, you’ve done it all before with Sarah. Just think of how amazin’ life is now because you brought her safely into the world. You did that! Endured all that pain to bring her into the world, and now you’re going to do the same again with this baby. We are all so lucky to have you. You’re so strong.” He kisses your forehead as the pain begins to subside.

With the pain gone, you have the ability to sit up straighter. Joel moves out of your way so you’re able to sort yourself out, however you wish to. Rather than sitting against the pillows, you bring your legs over the side of the bed, so you can sit directly facing Joel. You hold your hands out on either side of the bed to help you stabilise. Joel then kneels in front of you, so you put your arms around his neck, in an effort to hold him closer. He’s your safe space. You pull each other into an embrace, and you rest your head on his shoulder as you cry.

“Shhh Baby, you’re okay, y’got this”.

You don’t say anything, you just continue to hug him as you shake and cry. Joel brushes his hands up and down your back. “Hey baby, look at me”. It’s a whisper into the quiet room after a few minutes of silence. You don’t move, just shake your head no into his shoulder. “Baby” he pulls away a little. “Please, look at me” this time it’s much sterner, but still drowned in concern.

You slowly lift your head up; your hair falls in front of your face as you do so. Your face red and shiny with tears. You looks exhausted and defeated. Joel brushes your hair behind your ears and smiles at you. He then wipes your wet cheeks to free them of your tears. “Hi” he smiles “see you’re so strong. So much stronger than I could ever be. I promise you, you’ve got this”.

“I don’t” you whimper.

“Baby” he laughs “you do! Look at you, you’re literally doin’ it as we speak!”

“I don’t feel strong” it comes out like a moody grunt.

“But you are, come on take a deep breath. It’s all gonna be worth it”.

You take a deep breath in before exhaling, keeping eye contact with Joel as you do. You bring a hand to your lower back with a wince.

“Can you help me up please? I wana walk for a little?”

“Course baby, whatever you need”.

Joel takes hold of both of your hands and pulls as you begin to lift yourself off the hospital bed. You then proceed to pace; breathing deeply as you rub your belly.

“You up for some music? We can dance for a bit, will that help?”. Joel asks enthusiastically.

It stops you in your tracks “Aww Joel, you cutie you still wana dance with me? Even when I look like this?” you gesture to your hospital gown.

“I always wana dance with you darlin’.”

Joel grabs his phone and puts on a random playlist of slower songs. He takes you into his arms and cuddles you close swaying with you in his arms. Stopping with each contraction that hits you, rubbing your lower back. He kisses the top of your head every so often. Mumbling into your hair how much he loves you. You continue to do this for a while, seemingly more relaxed until “Shit, wait Joel stop, I feel weird”.

He immediately stops swaying with you but continues to hold you “what do you mean?”

“I- I, it feels weird down there, I don’t know” you grab the underneath of your stomach.

“What can I do?”

You begin to stand straighter in his arms“I- I just need to move, just need t-“

You’re interrupted by a gush of water, falling from between your legs. Soaking your bare feet, and Joels boots.

“Oh shit, well that’s what that was” you laugh, but then keel over with another pain. Placing your palms onto the hospital bed as you sway and moan.

Joel pushes the red button, then is right back at your side helping you through it. The nurse is in the room within a couple of seconds.

“Hey, I was just on my way back to you guys, what’s going on?”

Joel, noticing you’re still getting over your pain, responds on behalf of you “her waters went”.

“Oh goodie! Progressing as we should and to top it off, we have a room free. We will take you there when you’re ready sweetie” she rubs your shoulder in concern.

“Oh, thank god, I would’ve cried even more if I couldn’t have a water birth”.

🩷🩵🩷

Once settled into the new room Joel helps you to strip completely, then helps you to put on a bikini top. The midwife is filling up the tub and Joel helps you in once its ready. You’re straight on the gas and air.

After an hour of contracting in the water, you’re sat against the tub, a flannel over your forehead and Joel is rubbing your shoulders. You’re focusing on breathing calmly between contractions, but the next pain that hits you is excruciating. There’s something much more primal about this scream. Despite the pains everything seems calm till the sudden urge to push overcomes your body.

You sit up taller in the bath, pulling a face as you try to move to get more comfortable, which is just impossible.

“You okay baby?” Joel asks noticing the distress on your face.

“There’s so much pressure down there I think-  I feel like- like I need to push” you take a second to get a proper feel for what it is you’re feeling. “Yeah, I do- I need to push Joel!”

Joel quickly jumps up and presses the red button and it takes all of ten seconds for Sally to return.

“How we doing?” she asks genuinely, but it’s obvious she knows the answer she’s about to get.

“I need to push” you say before a pain takes over you that has you almost screaming in pain. You turn in the tub to face Joel and put your arms over his shoulders. He hugs you close.

“You’re okay baby, you’re doing so good.”

“Okay, when this pain is over, I’m going to check you, whatever you do, do not push, okay?” Sally says in a rushed tone.

You nod into Joel’s shoulder in response. And it takes ever fibre of your being not to push. You don’t move whilst she examines you, continuing to cuddle into Joel as you try to suppress the urge to push.

“Okay it’s go time angel, baby’s head is right there I can see it.”

“Oh, thank God” it comes out like a cry.

“You hear that Baby you can push” Joel utters to you so softly, it’s almost a whisper.

“You can start pushing as soon as you’re ready angel, how do you want to do this? You happy in the position you’re in or do you want to move?”

“No, I want to stay like this” you’re determined but exhausted.

“That’s absolutely fine. Now on the next contraction, I want you to push with everything you’ve got, okay, I’m going to count to ten and I need you to push that whole ten seconds, okay? You’re no quitter, so I don’t want any giving up.”

“Yeah, okay” it’s about all you can manage response wise.

It doesn’t take long till the next contraction happens, they’re basically on top of each other by this point.

You bare down as you grip onto Joel, and you give it all you’ve got. “Good!” the midwife shouts. “Keep going that’s it, 8, 9, 10.”

You stop pushing with a gasp.

“You did so good baby” Joel whispers in your ear.

“Ready to go again?” the midwife asks, and you nod before baring down for another ten. It takes a few more pushes before the head is completely out and you’re nothing but glad that the ring of fire is long gone.

“Okay good the head is out! Well done! Take some deep breaths for me. Just a few more pushes and your beautiful baby will be here!”

“The heads out?” it’s almost a cry.

“Yes, it’s out!”.

“Can I feel?”

“Yeah, course go for it” the midwife adds. You move out of Joel’s grip slightly, bringing one of your arms back to feel the head between your legs.

“Oh, Joel, I can feel them, wow they have a lot of hair” you say as you look at him.

“Yeah? Lotta hair, just like Sarah?” Joel asks.

“Oh yeah beautiful full head of hair I can see it” the midwife adds in.

“Good, hey almost there now baby” he replies before kissing your head as you lean back into him.

With the head finally out, you know you have to push even harder for the shoulders and you’re exhausted.

“Give us a really big push on this next contraction, okay?” Sally asks.

“I can’t” you shake your head into Joel’s shoulder.

“Baby you can, what do you mean you can’t?” Joel adds.

“I can’t do it anymore, I can’t!” You cry.

“Baby, you’ve been doing so well and you’re so near the end now, hey look at me.” You lift your head from his neck to look at him. “You’re so strong you’ve got this, okay? You push, give it everything you’ve got and lets meet this baby of ours, okay?”

“Y-Yeah, okay”

“Good girl” Joel replies kissing your forehead.

The pain begins to wash over you and you push until you can’t anymore. Joel and Sally coaching you through every second of the push.

“Few more pushes and baby is out” the midwife adds.

“Good you can do this baby come on!” Joel shouts enthusiastically and that’s all you need to hear.

You scream as you bare down gripping onto Joel’s shoulders. It takes three more pushes to get the baby out. The midwife is there to catch and when the baby is finally free from your body you immediately sit back so you can take the baby from her. “It’s a girl!” the midwife announces as she places your screaming daughter in your arms.

“Another girl Joel” you cry at him, and he comes over to kiss you on the head before placing a hand on the back of his new daughters head.

“She’s so beautiful” Joel cries back.

“Sarah was right” you laugh, “she got the sister she always wanted”.

“Look at all of her hair!”

“She gets that from her daddy” you laugh.

You’re crying, Joel’s crying, the baby is crying. You all just stay like that for a minute.

“Dad do you wana cut the cord?” Sally questions Joel, bringing you both out of your new baby bliss bubble.

“Y- yeah” he replies.

You move the baby to be cradled in your arms as he cuts the clamped cord. The midwife then takes the baby and gives her to a nurse to clean her off whilst you deliver the placenta.

🩷

An hour later you’re back in the hospital bed in your own comfy pj’s as your newborn daughter sleeps against your chest. She makes little purr like noises as she does. Skin to skin is your favourite thing to do with a newborn. Joel is sat at your side and rests his palm against your daughters head.

“What should we call her?” he whispers to you.

You turn your head to the side to look at him briefly. You whisper back “I think she looks like an Ellie.”

“Ellie?” he looks to her squished, pouty face then. “S’perfect” he replies, before leaning to kiss her tiny head.

As if she hears herself being talked about, she stirs awake and lets out a little grouchy cry.

“Oh, baby Ellie, you’re hungry again huh?” You coo at her angry scrunched face. You then move, Joel quickly grabbing her from you, so that you can undress yourself ready to feed her. Joel helps to position her at your breast, and she latches almost instantly. And you quickly settle back into the feeling of feeding a baby, it’s the best bonding feeling ever.

Joel just sits back and watches you both for a moment, before getting out his camera and taking a snap of you feeding your daughter.

“Babe, stoppp I bet I look a mess”.

“You look gorgeous baby.”

This birth had been much less traumatic than Sarah’s and you were raring to go home. Thankfully you got the all clear to go which you were more than thankful for. You didn’t want to have to spend the whole night away from Sarah if unnecessary. Ellie was born six hours ago; she had fed easily and was going to the toilet normally. And so home time it was. Joel is getting Ellie ready in the car seat whilst you get out your phone. You’d promised to call Sarah when you were coming home and so you call Tommy’s phone to speak to her.

It only rings twice and surprisingly Sarah is the one to answer.

“Hi Mama!”

“Hey baby, are you okay?”

“Yeah Mama, are you coming home?”

“We are coming home!”

“So, the baby is here!”

“Yes, the baby is here, and you’ll get to meet them very soon!”

“Yay I can’t wait!”

“See you soon baby love you!”

“Love you too!”

There’s a welcome home sign on the front door, clearly made by Sarah, when you make it back home. Joel carefully helps you out of the car and then makes his way into the back to get Ellie out whose sleeping soundly. You then walk up to the front door together, Joel unlocking the door and allowing you to enter first. He enters behind you with Ellie in tow.

You walk into the living room and Sarah runs straight to you. Jumping up and down in front of you. ‘MAMA!’

“Hi beautiful girl!” you gently hug her. “You wana meet someone special?”

She nods, as she looks behind you to watch Joel walk in the door, baby carrier in tow. “Baby girl, this is Ellie, your sister” he announces excitedly.

“Sister? It’s a girl! See I told you!”

“Yeah, you were right baby, now if you go and sit nicely on the sofa, you can hold her if you want?”

“Yes, yes pleaseeee!”

Sarah runs hurriedly over to the sofa and sits nicely kicking her legs. You come to sit next to her and put an arm around her. Joel places the carrier down onto the floor and bends to carefully to unclip her to get her out. Maria and Tommy both coo from the other sofa when her tiny body is lifted out of the seat. The newborn scrunch is enough to set you off crying again and when Joel gently helps Sarah to position her arms to hold her new sister correctly, you’re a mess. Sarah’s one arm is propped against a pillow to further help her in supporting her baby sister.

“Hi Ellie, I’m your big sister. She’s so tiny wow” she strokes her cheek gently.

“She is huh? Joel adds “she’s gonna get so much bigger though, one day she will be as big as you.”

“She’s so beautiful” as if on cue, Ellie opens her eyes then and looks straight up to her big sister in curiosity.

“Look Sarah she recognises her big sister; she remembers your voice from all those times you spoke to her when she was in my tummy. God, you look so big holding her baby girl” you bend her head towards you gently then to kiss her.

Joel reaches into his bag and gets his camera out once more.

“Girls look up, lets get a picture of the three of you”.

You and Sarah both look up at once, you quickly wipe the now drying tears from your face and Joel takes multiple pictures.

“Right daddy I think it’s time you got in too, don’t you?” Maria asks from behind him, he quickly passes her the camera and sits the other side of Sarah, you all smile once more at the camera, and Maria also take one of the three of you looking down at Ellie as she makes her tiny little noises.

Okay now enough you lot, think it's time Uncle Tommy had a cuddle, don't you?" Tommy asks “C’mon shift, stop hoggin’ my niece!” He jokes.

You all laugh then.

This is family, this is love, this is the life you’d spent your whole life dreaming of. And here you are finally living it, and it’s so much better than you could’ve ever, ever imagined.

Read from Joel's POV I Series Masterlist I Main Masterlist