#i still have two hours left of the last episode

[magpigment]

so uhhhh. that blood sure is in the bayou, huh. and those sure weren’t cicadas… <- has stayed up all night listening to bitb and promptly got jumpscared by cicadas outside my window at daybreak

[i-like-writing-stuff]

the other five [ five hargreeves x reader ]

request: Hello! This is my first time desperately requesting a fic because the new season is SO bad 😭 Can you write a fic where the reader finds out about everything that happened between Five & Lila and then she gets taken away by one of the Fives at the deli and promising her that he’ll treat her better than OG Five (You can also add a part where OG Five finds out about this and lives to regret it)

a/n: AU where everything in that trash season was the same, except when five made the first jump in s1 he made it in his 32 yr old body bc i will not have y/n pull a zach justice (lmao)

even if lila did 😭😭

anyways basically everyone is the same age

i like to think of the five that comforts y/n as the five that explained everything to five in the last episode because that one literally felt like the five we were supposed to get, the five that was there all the first three seasons

sorry i cant stop trashing this season you guys 😭 i’m just so disappointed

summary: after breaking up with five, you make up with… well, five

part two

“Leave me alone, Five!” You yelled in despair, pushing the man before you away, “Actually, first take me back home, you psycho! I have nothing to say to you!”

“Y/N, please, just hear me out!” Five tried to reason with you, as if anything he would say could make your heart glue itself back.

You were standing in the subway station after Five had blinked himself and you away from the family- or what was left of it, watching him at loss of words. You didn’t recognize the man before your eyes, as much as you tried. You didn’t even have time to gather all your thoughts since there was yet another impending apocalypse on its way, so your mind was completely all over the place.

Five Hargreeves was not the same Five Hargreeves you fell in love with all those years ago. He was not the same man who had stolen your heart and made you feel like you were the most precious person in the world. He wasn’t your partner anymore, he wasn’t your lover. Your boyfriend wasn’t there. You looked at this person and there was a stranger, acting as if he was the same who had hugged you, held your hand, kissed you all those many times. You were questioning everything about him now.

“Take me back!” You yelled again, ignoring his same pleas, curling your hand in a fist, “I’m this fucking close to making you ash!”

As your pure anger got the best of you, you were ready to let your powers take over for a second. Obviously you weren’t actually going to hurt him, no matter how much you wanted him to feel your pain, at least physically.

You met him six years ago, during the first time you tried to stop the apocalypse. You were also one of the extraordinary kids, but luckily enough, Reginald Hargreeves didn’t manage to adopt you- more so, purchase you. You only met Five not long after he managed to time travel back to his family in 2019 after spending all those decades by himself. Before you knew it, you were dragged into the Hargreeves family and your relationship soon after developed.

Your six year relationship that was so merry a few hours ago. Now it was crumbled, trashed.

What hurt was that it was six years only to you. Five managed to block himself seven years away from you, only in the presence of Lila.

“This is so fucking stupid,” You scoffed, fighting back the tears in your eyes, “It’s fucking over! Do you want me to spell it out for you?!”

“I want you to listen!” Five didn’t give up on arguing, “I thought I��d never see you again!”

“You didn’t want to see me again!” You screamed, wailing your hands in the air, “Fucking save it- It’s over! I don’t want to ever see you again if we survive this apocalypse! You ruined our relationship, you ruined your brother’s marriage, family! For fucking Lila!”

You hated him absolutely. The mere thought of his infidelity, of the nerve to act as if he still loved you, it was all despicable.

You grew to love all of your boyfriend’s siblings, and also your nieces and nephews, even if you and Five were not yet married. You planned to be a part of the family officially, but still wanted to focus on your careers, you wanted to adjust yourself to your old life, back to your origins.

“Y/N, please!” He tried to step, towards you, but you started stepping away.

Thoughtlessly, because of all your anger, you just walked towards the first train approaching you, fully intending to be away from him at whatever cost.

“If you don’t want to take me back, I’ll fucking find my own way!” You hopped onto the train, watching as he tried to catch up with you.

But he was too late.

In hindsight, maybe it was not the smartest idea, but you were just so devastated nothing made sense to you anymore. You spent the past six years thinking that you are set for the rest of your life, now that the world wasn’t ending anymore. You reconnected with your family, you built a career for yourself and were living happily with Five, you had literally just finished settling yourself in the new house you bought together. You couldn’t understand how he could do this to you.

You couldn’t understand how Lila could betray your friendship either, especially Diego and their kids.

You tried to make it make sense, be reasonable- it was only a few hours to you, but they were lost in this subway system for seven years.

But then again, Five was lost in the future 45 years by himself and he didn’t give up on trying to return to his family once.

Now he did, he gave up on trying to return to you.

That’s definitely another aspect that stung.

“Fucking piece of shit,” You mumbled, as the train approached its first station, “How do I fucking get out of here?”

You stumbled out of the sub, taking in your surroundings. It was yet another crumbled down station, but if you were to be at least a tiny bit fair, it was maybe a bit better kept. You looked around curiously, trying to figure out where to go from now on. Your fire-based superpowers were totally useless in this situation, so you hated to admit that you were in a bit of a pickle.

You rolled your eyes, as Five rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks, watching you with widened eyes.

“You again?” You sighed angrily, “Take me back or get out of my sight, Five.”

Five raised his brows, putting his hands in his pockets curiously. He didn’t say a word yet, as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He slowly stepped towards you, not taking his eyes off you once. For a split second, you stopped as well, sending that something was up.

You took in his features, trying to make sense of what was going on, realizing that he didn’t have a coat on him. He was wearing the exact three piece suit an black tie, he was wearing the same silver watch on his left hand, but he didn’t have his coat on.

“Y/N,” He smiled, stopping in front of you, “I never thought I’d see you again, more so here.”

“What the fuck is going on?” You calmly asked, over-analyzing the man before you.

His smile didn’t drop. It was a genuine one, a smile you hadn’t seen in a while. Things between you and Five were okay a few hours ago, but he hadn’t watched you with this look since you first met. His eyes were sincere, taking in every single feature of yours, traveling all over your body.

“I take it your Five danced the devil’s tango with Lila,” He sighed deeply, raising a hand to gently brush away your tears.

When did you even start crying?

Your mind was scrambled all over the place, but at that exact moment you couldn’t say another word. You just melted into his touch, feeling warmth. It really hadn’t been that long since Five touched you, but this touch felt different. His hand rested on your cheek, as his thumb caressed you lightly. His touch was so intoxicatingly sweet, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m so sorry I’m a literal shitface in some other timelines,” He lightly shook his head, “I’m so sorry.”

“What is going on?” You asked once again, calmer this time.

For whatever reason, you relaxed in an instant. You couldn’t tell if it was because of his gentle touch or simply his presence. Ironic, since just ten minutes ago you were ready to set him on fire.

“Come with me, my love,” Five said, grabbing your hand in his, “I’ll explain everything.”

You didn’t fight his touch, locking your fingers with his. None of you said a word, as you watched you hands fit so perfectly in one another. How could your relationship be over when you were so good together?

You followed Five through the subway station, rounding the same corner he appeared from. You watched as he turned his head to give you a reassuring smile, lightly squeezing your hand in comfort.

After a few more steps and going down a couple of stairs, you widened your eyes seeing a literal deli tucked away in this godforsaken out of order subway system. The headlights above the front entrance were lit up, writing Max’s Delicatessen. You saw inside a huddle of people as you entered, gathering everyone’s attention.

When they all turned to look at you, you literally couldn’t tell whether you or the huddle of people was more shocked.

They were all Fives.

There was music playing inside, as the deli was full of different versions of your boyfriend, whether they were customers sitting at the tables, drinking coffee or having a meal, reading the newspaper or having a chat. There were also other Fives working around, waiting tables or cooking in the back.

Nonetheless, they all stopped to look at you.

“Yeah, yeah, Y/N is here, carry on, you guys,” The Five that was holding your hand waved the others off with his free hand, “She needs a moment, stop being creeps.”

“I can’t tell if this is a dream come true or my worst nightmare,” You said, looking around the deli, as Five guided you towards an empty booth.

You sat down as the other picked up again whatever they were doing, still watching you with the corner of their eyes. Five took a seat in front of you, still holding onto your hand on top of the table, using his other hand to rub small circles on your skin.

“I am not the Five that dragged you here, in case you didn’t tell yet,” Five managed to say, “But I’m pretty sure that you did, since I know you’re smarter than he gives you credit for.”

“He did mention that this subway system is the knot to multiple timelines,” You sighed, as Waiter Five set down two cups of steaming coffee on the table.

You watched him curiously, as he looked yet again exactly like Five, wearing just a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, with a black tie, pantsuit pants and a server apron around the waist. He smiled at you warmly, setting down two small packs of sugar and a creamer.

“I’m sorry, my love, we don’t have any Irish Capuccinos around here, since you’re the first Y/N to set foot in here,” He apologetically smiled, “I can only get you a shot of whiskey, if you’d like.”

Of course they all knew your favorite coffee.

“Make it a bottle,” You said, cracking a smile for the first time, causing him to chuckle, before walking away to attend to your order.

“I can’t begin to explain how much I missed your smile, darling,” The Five before you said, as you turned back to him, “The Handler got to the Y/N in my timeline,” He added, as sadness took over his eyes, “I missed you so much.”

“I can’t understand how you’re the same Five that fell in love with Lila,” You said, before quickly adding, “I mean- technically, you’re not, but still.”

“Everyone around here is a different version of me, from a different timeline,” He said, “I’m one of the many that didn’t go down that road.”

“Thank you, I guess,” You laughed, making him smile again.

What a sweet smile it was.

“When I lost you, I was a total wreck,” He confessed, as you couldn’t help but place your other hand on top of his, “I love you so much, Y/N, I could never hurt you like that no matter what. This is all such a fucked up turn of events, but when I saw you coming out of that train, my mind froze.”

“I love you too, Five,” You said, “But I need to wrap my head around what is going on- Everything is insane, I mean I’m right now in the middle of yet another apocalypse, I just found out that you love Lila and there’s just so fucking many of you.”

“I know, my love, I know,” Five nodded, “I wouldn’t dare to ask you accept everything so fast, I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“Can you just… hold me?” You asked, watching as he didn’t waste another second and got up to slide ne t yo you in the booth.

Wrapping one arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest, he used his other one to caress your hair. You nuzzled your face into his shirt, taking in his scent, as you felt a wave of certitude wash over you. Five held you tightly into his arms, embracing you after years of your absence. He was grateful to have you in his arms once again.

And he was not about to let go anytime soon.

“I’ll always hold you, my love,” Five muttered, peppering small kisses in your hair.

The Five from your timeline watched from behind the window as you took comfort in his arms, but not exactly his arms.

This was only the beginning of his lifelong regret.

[thesiltverses]

A very big thank you

I posted this on Patreon, but really wanted to share it here as well:

Post-show life begins

For a long while now I’ve been getting up at 4.30 or 5am, grabbing myself the first coffee of four, and then coming to sit at my desk.

I open up the assembly cut of the newest TSV episode.

I listen to it, I try and pin down which scenes I need to be going back over today. I try and push through the entire morning without a break because when the momentum stalls, that’s what kills your release schedule. (I also worry endlessly about just how much of my hair is falling out, and how spending 12 hours a day wearing headphones could be contributing to that.)

Today was different. I still woke up early - it’s a hard habit to shake off, and probably a useful one going forward. But I didn’t go to my desk, and I didn’t put my headphones on.

I went to the rocking chair we bought for our son when he comes, and I sat there - gently swaying and trying not to spill my coffee all over it, because for some reason it’s fucking beige - and looked out over the city skyline. 

I slugged back my coffee surrounded by all the stuff we’ve panic-bought for the baby, and I got to take all of it in - washcloths and the changing table and romper suits - with a sudden focus and a clarity and a rising excitement that I really hadn’t allowed myself to feel until today, because until today the work was still unfinished and there was still much left to be done.

All at once I felt very free, and fully sated, and happy and proud for everything that’s coming next.

There’s so much to feel grateful for from the past three years of working on this show. But what’s probably going to sit with me the most is being able to arrive at that moment and those feelings today, - and we have all of you incredible people to thank for that.

Not just in terms of listenership or financial support, although that’s been truly invaluable and a lifeline for us that’s enabled us to actually make the show - but also your enthusiasm, your passion, your jokes and comments and everything that’s helped to keep us motivated and working on it.

So - with as much feeling as words can convey, thank you so, so much for everything.

What’s coming next, in rough order

#1: Parentdom is going to take over our lives for a while! I also want to write the final Patreon episode commentaries in the next few days, while I have the time and the clear memories. #2: The next thing we’ll organise will be the post-season Q&A (we’d also like to do some kind of off-camera cast party if we can make schedules work, just to say thank you to our amazing VAs and celebrate with them). Please do ask us questions! #3: We have long-unfinished commitments to the Patreon which I need to complete: the last two episodes of So Long, Good Luck, and rounding off Sid Wright’s story. As ever, huge thank-yous for your patience with these; they’ve just been impossible to polish off while also working on the main show so much. #4: Something I’ve been thinking about for a long time is the possibility of going back to Season 1 and redesigning it from scratch to try and bring it closer in style to S2 and S3. We have the raw audio files - some of the mic quality will just be rough no matter what, but we can certainly try.  This is something I want to be conscientious and careful about; I very much want to respect the sound design work that’s already taken place, and ensure we’re not overriding anything. But I do know that the initial quality still sometimes puts new listeners off; we were learning a lot about direction and mastering from scratch, and our designers were working with limited budget and a total lack of plugins, so there’s simply a lot more we can achieve now. (This would also be a good opportunity for me to finally rework the transcripts, another fallen hurdle). #5: A few months back, we were contacted by a literary agent in NYC who was interested in us adapting the show into a series of novels. There’s a long road ahead to actually get published, but I'm thrilled to say that I have signed with them and I’m really excited to hopefully start work on the first book once I’ve settled into dad-dom. I’ll need to check what’s possible, but if it doesn’t interfere with any contract condition I’d obviously love to share excerpts on here as it’s written. #6: Then there’ll also be another larger audiodrama project - we’ve spoken about the different possibilities before! Excited to get started on our final choice.

Just one last word about endings

God, endings are scary. Because endings are impossible.

How many serialised stories actually end in a way that’s received unequivocally well?  People yelled at The Sopranos for its ambiguity and open-endedness. People criticised Breaking Bad for treating Walt too sympathetically at the end and relying on a generic mob of snarling Nazis to act as his final foe.

Endings are either too pat and neat, or too inconclusive to be satisfying, or too surreal and dreamlike, or they simply make what feels like the wrong choices for the characters we care about. We’re all caught in that barbed wire, creators and audience alike, weighed down by the baggage of what’s come before and we've already spent so much time anticipating the infinite possibilities of how it could all turn out - it’s like we can’t get free of the story that’s trying to end. 

And the beautiful thing about these longform, iterative works is that they insist upon becoming completely ungovernable. No matter how much of a planner the creator claims to be, how much prepwork they carry out - they were never really in control. There’s spontaneity and surprises and dead ends and beautiful distractions that come spilling out along the way (I was baffled and delighted to learn that people really - at the end of the show, with such limited time to spare - wanted to find out what had happened to Eddie*). 

So they can’t end. Not really. There’s too much wonderful mess in them to ever be reasonably disentangled.

And, of course, for every ending people remember with frustration or dissatisfaction, there’s another hundred endings that nobody remembers at all, because we lost our enthusiasm along the way and it feels better to keep going back to the start and avoiding the slow decline. (Who the fuck remembers how the umpteenth X-Files reboot ended? What increasingly tired post-modern antics was Alan Moore getting up to in the final League of Extraordinary Gentlemen books?). I really just didn’t want the show to end up in that latter category.

All of that probably sounds like I’m warding off criticism about the show's ending, but for me it’s actually been the opposite. 

For an ending which is all about narrative dissatisfaction, and failed potential and missed opportunities, and how we need to come to terms with the lack of existential fairness and certainty and narrative control in our lives and keep ploughing forward all the same for as long as we possibly can, I’m massively stunned at just how positive the reception has been on here and elsewhere, and that’s something I’m actively having to process, because I think I was fearfully anticipating much more pushback.

But, look - the Eskew finale was originally quite poorly-received and then people came back around to it over time. So I’m not going to pat myself on the back too hard, because maybe it’ll ultimately be the opposite with this show, and that’s OK. For 200 years everyone was convinced King Lear was improved by having everyone survive at the end and get married. Endings take time to settle into their final condition.

For now, I am incredibly relieved that the ending we chose seems to have landed for most people, and I’m incredibly grateful for the lovely messages we’ve got about it and for the trust in us that you’ve all shown throughout the story.

So, yeah, let’s end with another thank you, because that’s what I feel so deeply and so forcefully at this point.

Thank you so much again, and speak soon.

Jon

*My take? We’ve established that the guy is in some kind of blue-collar job and has been pushed into constant overtime due to the reduced workforce. We’ve seen that the so-called ‘national holiday’ doesn’t actually rescue workers from their commitments. So I personally imagine that Eddie was working during the parade somewhere on the city outskirts, and is alive and well.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

The Return of Superman- Mark

(cw: f!reader called “mama”, a child duh)

Mark had spent a good few decades with a lot of his life documented on cameras. There were music videos, behind the scenes vlogs, cameras, talk shows, selfies, you name it- he did it. There was however, one area of his life that wasn't show or documented for the public. That was you, your marriage, and his son.

There had of course been the announcement on SM's end about Mark being in a relationship, then there was SM the announcement five years later about the two of you being married paired with a post from Mark with a wedding picture of the two of you where your face wasn't seen, and then the last announcement 3 years ago announcing the birth of his son.

Mark completely understood and agreed with your apprehension to show aspects of your life to the public, especially regarding your son. There was the occasional post with you and you can recall the uproar it caused across social media when Mark finally posted your full face on his public account. It was complete madness. People had managed to track down your place of work and even found other pictures of you from your friend's account. You had reason to be apprehensive regarding the privacy of you family.

However, as your son got older, you and Mark got more comfortable sharing more and more about your life, still being mindful of your privacy. So when Mark's managers called and mentioned his own episode on The Return of Superman, you had both discussed it and cautiously agreed with a few conditions. Conditions that were met with no argument since Mark was such a big celebrity to lock in.

--

Mark was sitting in the confessional, the familiar black curtain behind him as he introduced himself to the camera, "uh yeah, hi. My name is Mark Lee, I've been a member of NCT since 2016. My wife and I have been married for almost 9 years and our son is 3 years old."

He pauses as he listens to a producer as a question. He chuckles and shakes his head, "My son and I spend a lot of time together, but loves his mom. I try to take him out for some father and son bonding, but he cries for mom after an hour, when he play together he always involves her. It's great, I obviously love her too, but I think these few days the two of us will be kind of rough."

The scene cuts to the cameras panning over the space of yours and Mark's home as the commentators laugh and predict what they think will happen.

Mark is shown sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly before putting on his glasses and heading for his son's room. You had left the night before for a much needed girl's weekend with friends. You waited until your son was gone, peppering his chubby cheeks with kisses as he slept in his toddler bed before sneaking out of the room and bidding Mark goodbye with his own barrage of kisses and watery eyes. You knew Mark would be fine alone. He was a good dad and his confidence had skyrocketed once his son had grown out of the shaky steps phase.

"Wow, that is such a cool boy room!" One of the commentators marveled as the camera in Mark's son’s room showed the room covered in Spider-man. He had Spider-man sheets, blankets, wall stickers, toys, books- everything.

Mark smiled softly at the sight of his son sprawled across his little bed, still deeply asleep. Mark made his way to the kitchen and began making breakfast. He turned on the rice maker and began cracking eggs into the pan, watching tiredly as they turned from translucent to white.

One commentator cleared her throat, "this is interesting. Isn't it well-known that Mark can't cook eggs? I wonder if he's gotten better or his son likes them?"

The scene shows Mark and his son sitting at the dining table, his son blinking slowly and using both his hands to keep his head up. Mark laughs softly, scooping up a spoonful of rice and fried egg to feed his son. Usually, he'd be able to feed himself but this morning he's just too sleepy and Mark admittedly likes babying him. He is still a baby.

His son tiredly chews, his eyebrows furrowing and his face falling into one of confusion. He opens his eyes fully as he leans away from the next spoonful of food heading for him. "What's that?" his little voice asks as his finger points at the egg.

"It's eggs and rice, bub. Say ah," Mark instructs.

"Mama made it?" his son asks while turning his cheek away from the spoon.

"No, I made it," Mark replies, deciding to instead take the bite of food for himself.

His son scrunches his face up and takes the fried egg from his bowl and places it into Mark's, "yucky, Appa. No thank you!"

Mark tilts his head back with a roll of his eyes as the commentators laugh and compliment his son's good manners despite him calling the egg 'yucky.'

The scene cuts to Mark and his son standing in the entryway of your home, putting on their shoes. As Mark opens the door, his son freezes, "is Mama sick?"

Mark is hesitant to respond, "no, Mama isn't here. Remember it's going to be just me and you until tomorrow night?"

He can hear the familiar catch of his son's breath as he nervously looks up at Mark, "she's ok? She's coming tomorrow?"

Mark feels his heart melt, and the commentators all aww and coo over how cute the 3 year old is. Mark crouches down in front of him, picking him up and hosting him onto his hip, "of course she's coming back. Come on, we're going to go ride bikes at the park and get dinner with uncles later. Does that sound fun?"

His son sniffles and nods, "and ice cream?"

Mark laughs, "yes, and ice cream."

--

The camera crew follows Mark and his son around the park, watching as Mark teaches the boy to pedal and steer the bike. He eventually gets the hang of it and begins riding around on his own with a big smile. His little laughs and giggles fill the air as he zooms in every direction much faster than Mark or any of the cameramen expected, especially the cameraman tasked with following the boy around with his heavy camera.

It's all going well, no tears, no complaints, not even a mention of you, until the tricycle comes to an abrupt stop and turns when it gets too close to the edge of the grass. Mark sprints over the second he sees the tricycle teeter over and makes it to his son before the tears start.

He keeps calm as he looks his son over for any wounds, finding none and immediately being filled with relief. His son must have just gotten scared from the fall. Nonetheless Mark holds him close and rocks him as he cries into Mark's t-shirt.

"I want Mama," his son cries.

"I know buddy, I'm sorry. Does it hurt anywhere?"

His son continues to cry and shakes his head, his sobs turning into sniffles as he calms down. Mark pushes the hair away from his son's forehead and presses a long kiss to the sweaty skin, "you are being so brave, bub. I know it was scary, huh? I am so proud of you."

"And Mama too?" his son asks with watery eyes.

"Yes, and Mama too. You can tell her all about it when she comes home tomorrow. You can tell her that you heal fast like Spider-man."

His son perks up and his eyes brighten, "like Spider-man?"

Mark nods and stands, with his son in one arm and the tricycle in the other, "Oh yeah, big guy. Just like Spider-man, whenever he gets scared he keeps going, right?"

This sets his son off on his little tangent about Spider-man fighting the Green Goblin, then Doc Oc, and how he uses his webs and how the bad guy loses and Spider-man always wins.

The scene cuts to Mark in the confessional, "I really have enjoyed my time on the show, but I may be worse than my son. If you have me back, can she stay too? Please."

[beetlejuicyy]

based on Hashira Training Arc ep. 5; I can't get this week's episode off my mind

w/c: 1.1k

find me on AO3 | masterlist

divider @enanet

summary: As Sanemi's wife, you try not to intervene in his relationship with his little brother. However, he had crossed the line this time.

Sanemi's favorite moment of the day was exactly now, during these two short hours at sunset, right after dinner. His day was full of training the demon slayer corps while his night was dedicated to his own training, fighting fellow hashira. That left exactly two hours in between for you, his wife. You were gone for most of the day lately, since training so many people was turning his yard into a battlefield, loud and dirty. You also knew he was rather harsh in his teachings, so it was best to give him space to do his duty while minding your own business.

"What's wrong with you?" Sanemi finally asked when you refused to let him lay his head on your lap.

It was the usual unwinding ritual of his day, eat your delicious food and relax under your touch, his features softened, his voice gentle, his touch careful and loving. But today you seemed cold. He tried to ignore all the signs until you put a book in your lap, just as he was sitting down next to you on the porch. This was Sanemi's last straw.

"What is wrong with you?!" You've never been this angry with him, at least you've never showed it so far. After the terrible day he had this was the last thing he needed, a moody wife.

"You're the one barely talking." Sanemi pointed out. He picked the book from your lap and put it away, annoyed. "You're the one choosing a stupid book instead of your husband."

"How was training today, Sanemi?" You asked, at last. It was the first question you asked him everyday, although the tone was different now. Accusing, angry and patronizing.

"Thanks for asking." He inssisted on expressing his bitterness before answering. "It was great."

"Was the part where you almost blinded your little brother for life great?"

Shock took over your husband's appearance, as his eyes widened, his hand frozen in the air, not daring to touch you anymore. You never got into their fights. Fight was a word not so suited for their relationship anyway. You tried to understand that Sanemi's behaviour was rooted in his own trauma while still trying to console and protect Genya as much as you could. But today, when Tanjiro of all people approached you on your way back home to tell you, you couldn't withstand it any longer.

"So the brat finally started snitching on me?"

The weight of your palm would have left a large red spot on his cheek if Sanemi wouldn't have swiftly caught your wrist when you almost slapped him. Tears were blurring your vision but you didn't want to let them fall. So you yanked your hand away from his grip, sniffing and trying to hold them back. Your husband had no idea how he was supposed to act, so he stood there, guilt and pity intertwined in his eyes as looked at you.

"Genya admires you the most, you idiot!" You wiped your tears away as you spoke. "He would never tell me anything bad about you, no matter how poorly you treat him." Sanemi's eyes could only dart towards the floor, his hands clenched in tight fists. "He only has you, how can you tell him you have no little brother? How can you seriously attack him? You know you're much stronger. How can you tell him to quit? All he wants is to be like you!" Accusations flew out of your mouth like daggers, stabbing him one after the other, forcing him to remember and see his actions from another point of view. "Have you..." Your voice broke off halfway as you voiced your  last thought, and your pain made him look up at you, worried. "Have you no heart?" You couldn't contain your tears anymore. Not when your mind was full of the contradiction between the man that was your husband and the man that was an older brother. How could he be so patient, so loving, so considerate with you yet be such a monster towards his own little brother?

A loud voice inside Sanemi's head was screaming to comfort you, to reassure you that he had a heart indeed and it all of it belonged to you. But, as small and helpless as you looked compared to his bigger, stronger build, he didn't dare to get closer to you. He didn't dare to move one finger. The time that was supposed to be the happiest of his day turned into painful silence, as you wiped your tears away and he was left to reflect on his actions. The sun was almost gone from the sky. The darker it got you remembered that Obanai was probably already waiting for your husband for their usual night training. 

"Don't you have anything to say?" You asked, afraid that Sanemi might actually leave without a word, making it even harder to reach him later when he would return. He wasn't good with expressing his feelings and towards you he would refrain from saying anything, scared that his poor choice of words would do more harm. But silence was even more harming.

"He needs to get stronger. I can't babysit him on the battlefield."

"You're not babysitting him at all." You sneered at him. However, his low voice and his effort to contain himself in front of you made your heart melt. He could be better, only if he tried.

"He can't weild a sword properly. He said he even ate demons."

"Don't you think it takes so much courage and strenght to do these things?"

Sanemi looked at you bewildered, his entire concept of strength crushing down inside his mind as you pointed out the obvious, the truth that was right in front of him but he was too blind, too caught up in his own world to see. He only sighed in defeat. His wife outsmarted him once again.

It was getting late and you still had to clean the table and tidy around before going to sleep. As you sat up and passed by him on your way, Sanemi caught you by the wrist. His gesture reminded you immediately of the previous moment when you almost slapped him, regret washing over you.

"Can I hold you for a moment?" He mumbled like a scolded child, not sure if he deserved it anymore. You pulled him in and his toned arms wrapped around your legs, his cheek pressed against your belly. You ran your hand through his hair as you felt the strong, almost desprate grip he had on you, like he was afraid you would leave. You didn't forgive him yet. But that could wait a few more moments. As his face nuzzled against the soft fabric of your clothes you realized he was still a big child in a man's body, unsure how to handle anything other than fighting.

"Sanemi." Contrary to the gentle touch of your fingers in his hair, your voice was stern. "Promise me you'll fix this when you come back."

He only nodded against your body before pulling away completely. Only after he was long gone you noticed the tears that left wet spots on your clothes.

next》》 Yearning | Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

[tsukimefuku]

the event (1) ❖ nanami kento

this part → part 2 (soon) | mdni! | the nile is a river in egypt 👍

summary: after struggling for so long with the feelings you had for nanami, your colleague and closest friend, you finally decide to put an end to your misery and confess to him. little did you know there was no misery left for you to wallow in that night — none at all. alternatively: nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase "I want you".

tags: jujutsu kaisen, sorcerer!f!reader, colleagues in the field, 18+, alcohol, explicit! smut (oral f!receiving, piv, squirting), 1/3 plot 2/3 filth ratio, it’s romance guys, nanami x reader, reader is emotionally stunted, they're clearly in love, angst, fluff, hurt and comfort, basically a book chapter, no beta my inner demons proofread this.

wc: 8k

notes, etc.: if i have to rewrite this one more time i will commit a felony. inspo → just like you do (carly simon) and sonnet (the verve). saved by smooth operator (sade). the bit "love is something brave people do" is inspired by fleabag's last episode. appetizers for this fic are the shorties “would you let me die?” and “where does your mind drift”.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

this is big but very worth it, i promise.

Today, you were determined to finally utter those three words and put an end to your own personal brand of misery. 

Ever since you and Nanami kind of discussed if getting involved would be a bad idea — he said it would, but you had your doubts — you just couldn't stop thinking about it. He knew you had feelings for him. Maybe. He mentioned that he believed you thought about him. 

But the thing was… nothing was actually said. It was all implied. Implied into oblivion.

You two had been working together for a good while now, and you didn't fail to notice that, in the most recent encounters you've had, be it on missions or just having a drink at your favorite bar, your heart would involuntarily throb whenever you gazed at him for too long. 

Not only that, but you were finally able to admit to yourself that your gratitude towards the sorcerer, who saved your life years ago, had become love. You were, without a shred of a doubt, in love with him, and the fact that he clearly stated that getting involved would be ill-advised — his words, not yours — was a special type of torture.

So be it — you were confessing your feelings for him today, at least to have a definitive answer. It would be better to get shot down than keep doing this little tip-toe dance around the unsaid. You just couldn't do this anymore.

Thing was… You were terrible with feelings. And words. And putting feelings into words. And also just feeling your feelings, in general.

So you decided to invite him to a bar — like you always did —, and chat the night away — again, like you always did — to try easing yourself into this conversation in a comfortable, known setting. Your drinks were downed until the middle of the night like you were filling up a Jeep tank, trying to fuel yourself with liquor-bought courage. 

Eventually you slowed down, because certainly throwing up would be less than ideal. Better to be sober and chicken out than drunk and vomiting.

You were so in your own head, though, that you failed to realize Nanami was accompanying you in the "getting completely hammered" department until about a few hours prior, partially regaining his sobriety, with a lot of things swirling around in his own mind.

Mostly, he still thought about the non-conversation you both had about thinking of each other. More specifically, the fact that you inquired, right at the end, if it would really be such a bad idea.

Would it? 

Could he dare to dream of a life beyond killing curses and hoping not to die every time he stepped his foot into a mission?

He wasn't sure about it anymore, and could feel his usual negative stance about getting romantically involved with someone while still being a jujutsu sorcerer wavering — an absolute first for him. He was hardly someone to be swayed on his stances in life.

But this time, just maybe, you were able to do that without even realizing.

He caught himself gazing at you more frequently than usual, and wondering what would be the texture of your flower-scented hair tangled in between his fingers.

Today, your hair smelled like jasmine flowers.

Unlike you, however, Nanami was unsure if he'd touch upon the subject that night, specifically, in case he ever decided to do so. He’d prefer to talk about it in an appropriate setting — dinner at a restaurant, maybe? No, you weren't someone who'd like that. Perhaps at a picnic, she does enjoy nature...

He tried shaking those thoughts away along with his feelings, but it didn’t work.

The conversation was very pleasant, and you two were reminiscing about his mission at your hometown where you both met years ago. 

”Do you remember when I tried cooking breakfast? Oh, that was a good one,” you jested, chuckling. 

Nanami nodded, resting the edge of his whiskey cup on his bottom lip. 

“I’d say that was a terrible one. You nearly set your entire kitchen on fire trying to fry eggs,” he noted, letting a smile take over his lips.

You laughed in response.

”Yeah, you’re probably right. But at least you rescued me and made one of the best tamagoyaki I’ve ever eaten.”

He put his glass down on the counter, looking at you with those adoring, beautiful, brown honeyed eyes.

"One of?"

You chuckled, trying not to stare too much.

Good God, he's looking gorgeous tonight.

“Oh, come on. According to you, I can barely taste my food the way I eat, mixing everything up in my plate,” you joked, “I don’t have the same particular taste buds of yours.”

Nanami sighed, rolling his eyes at your teasing, taking a sip of his whiskey.

The ice had melted a little, and he felt the watery coat on the drink with displeasure, grimacing a little.

Somehow, Nanami failed to see the irony in that.

You noticed, and laughed a little before continuing.

"The other amazing tamagoyaki I had was when you rescued me from starving during my first week here. But I don't think I'd really regret burning Jujutsu High down, even if it was an accident."

Nanami shook his head lightly, the smile still on his face betraying his half-hearted chide.

Then, after the banter evaporated in the air, that moment finally came.

The absolute silence.

Arguably the perfect opportunity to say these types of things… So you began.

"Nanami, I…" words gagged. "I wanted to tell you something."

His body visibly tensed up a little, but he probably didn't realize it.

He knew, of course.

Nanami noticed all the recent instances you'd stare at him, and ever since pulling you in for a not-so innocent hug when you were both stranded on the road after a mission together, he felt dangerously close to crossing this boundary. 

Nanami's words were easily controlled, always so neatly put together with mathematical precision to express his thoughts. However, ever since he crossed the line of physical contact beyond pure platonic affection, it had been difficult keeping his hands to himself. 

Right now, he wanted to cup your face with his palms and brush his thumbs against your cheeks.

Perhaps even press his lips against you- stop that, you’re not a teenager anymore.

This comfort zone of avoiding the discussion about the feelings you both had for each other was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. 

"What?"

You gulped, and took a few more sips of beer.

"I…"

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

Your syllable had stretched long enough for this to have become a little awkward.

"I wanted to thank you," you blurted out, more for your benefit than his.

Nanami was equal parts relieved, disappointed, and surprised.

Did he actually want you to tell him you had feelings for him?

"Thanks for welcoming me to Jujutsu High, for shepherding me all this time, and for being a reliable, good friend. I was ready to face hell here, but it was… much better than I had anticipated. So, thank you, Nanami."

He looked at you, and both held each other's gaze for a moment. His hazel brown eyes were always something that lured you in, and you surely enjoyed how he'd always remove his green shades to talk to you.

Seeing them felt strangely — and endearingly — intimate.

"You're welcome," he offered in a kind note.

"Last call!" the bartender stated loudly, as you and Nanami looked at each other, feeling somewhat disappointed that the night was about to be over.

Stepping outside after paying, you both realized it was raining — something neither had noticed from inside the bar.

With half a mind to do something, definitely inebriated, and still with a declaration stuck in your throat, you absentmindedly made a question to Nanami.

"Can I wait the rain out at your place?"

He did live close by, in any case.

For a second, you realized you were probably butting in his rest hours, and felt a little embarrassed.

"Yes," he replied immediately, also absentmindedly, before you could retreat your request.

***

It was actually the first time you ever visited his apartment, and it was interesting to see his place. To no one's surprise, Nanami's pristine apartment, with his collections of books and CD's — he still had an actual stereo CD player — felt as every bit put together as Nanami himself did.

His kitchen drawers alone were surely more organized than your income tax return.

You sat on the counter and had your drenched hair haphazardly covered with a blue towel as Nanami fixed something to eat for the both of you.

The smell of cooked rice and eggs filled the air, hugging your senses, as you watched, still halfway drunk, how he skillfully walked back and forth, being somewhat inebriated himself, making way more than instant noodles, your first choice after proposing you both ate something to ease the alcohol out.

You stared at his back while he cooked, trying to push the thought of telling him how you felt to the back of your mind, at least for a while, just so you could enjoy the following moments without the sensation of impending doom.

As he finished plating the food, you were nothing short of impressed — the man mustered up the skill to cook omurice while inebriated, a feat you couldn't do sober even in one of your best days. 

"This is incredible, you're such a badass," you remarked as Nanami gave you a plate with a pair of chopsticks.

"It's a simple recipe," he replied, getting his own and taking a bite out of it as he leaned against the sink counter, facing you.

"Oh, it surely is,” you remarked, ironically.

You were getting ready to eat as Nanami interrupted you.

"Don't desecrate it," he chided, referencing the way you'd usually stir up your food on your plate until it became an unidentifiable goo before eating, "try to taste your food at least this once."

You chuckled a little, acquiescing.

"Okay. This is too beautiful to get vandalized, anyway."

Nanami huffed, the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips, before he took another bite.

"I am so going to regret this entire thing tomorrow," you stated, taking the first piece out of your plate, “I drank like a sailor.” 

It was absolutely delicious, of course. It was Nanami's food, after all.

He swallowed before proceeding.

"Me too, most likely. I hadn't drunk this heavily since… ever."

"Hah, me neither."

You both resumed eating peacefully, partaking in a comfortable and cozy silence for the next few minutes. During that time, he looked at you without you noticing, and realized just how much he wanted this small sliver of peace — sharing a good meal with you in his kitchen after a remarkably pleasant night — to keep going for eternity. 

You were looking so adorable with his blue towel over your drenched hair.

As you were finished, he took both plates and put them inside the sink, going back to his original position. Nanami had already removed his tie, his weapon holster and opened the top of his blue buttoned shirt by this point, both of his sleeves rolled up for him to cook.

It was becoming increasingly hard not to stare.

"Thank you, Nanami," you said, smiling at him.

"It's no trouble," he answered, softly smiling back at you.

His smile was much sweeter than usual, and it sent your heart throbbing against your chest.

The urge came again, to finally tell him.

However, when you actually spoke, something entirely unexpected came out of your mouth.

"Why did you come back to Jujutsu High after years of working a regular job?"

Nanami was surprised, to say the least, and pondered for a while before resuming his answer.

He had left the jujutsu world shortly after the mission where he met you and ‘failed you’ — that last part solely according to him — so, needless to say, this was a sensitive topic. 

"Well, I had known the jujutsu world, and after entering the corporate one, I realized both were idiotic. So-"

"No, not that speech," you interjected, "I want to know exactly what happened for you to come back. I mean, when we ran into each other years ago, you seemed pretty resolute in trying your retired-by-40 and moving to Malaysia plan, and from what I gathered, not long after that, you just came back, out of nowhere."

Nanami was silent, because he remembered vividly what had transpired, and that you had something to do with it.

"Well," he began, "a few days after we had that conversation, I went into a bakery to buy breakfast. It was always the same person at the cash register, and she had a small fly head curse on her shoulders for a while. It began affecting her sleep, given her complaints. I had avoided doing something about it, but our conversation kept ringing in my head."

Nanami averted his gaze, as if remembering the moment in its details before proceeding.

"After I exorcised it, her shoulder pain subsided, and she thanked me. That was it."

You remembered well how you chided him, telling Nanami to go back into sorcery because the world of jujutsu needed people who truly cared, such as himself. You just didn’t think it would have such a direct connection to the reasons he came back.

"So... you realized the importance of the job we do?" you inquired, with a half-smile pulled on your cheek.

He sighed. "Something like that."

"Oh, Mr. Nanami 'I'm just doing my job' Kento... you have finally understood that meaning is something relevant to you, it seems," you remarked, light-spirited.

He smiled, looking the other way, somewhat appreciating the fact that he had just been read like a book by you.

"But... don't say I had something to do with you coming back," you stated, "I might feel responsible if something happens to you."

Even as a joke, this snapped at your heart a little. The mere thought of losing him felt terrifying.

Nanami sighed, smile vanishing, looking back at you. 

"You always see things from a perspective of assigning responsibility and guilt... It is a perspective that usually warrants unnecessary suffering."

You scoffed, still wearing your mid-smirk on your face.

"Oh, and looking at everything from a protective perspective is any different? I mean, both boil down to us thinking we're responsible for other people's fates."

He was slightly taken aback, before smiling discreetly and crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

"I guess you're right."

Nanami looked at you, and seemed to be staring at your cheek. Under the dim light from the stove hood, you could make out the contours of his face — his sharp jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, and his now exposed forearms with taut, sculpted muscles, right under the rolled up sleeves of his blue shirt. 

If pupil dilation could be felt, you would have definitely felt it at that moment.

The urge came up again, but by this point, you were already feeling defeated enough at your pathetic inability of confessing your feelings, so you just let your mouth roll with whatever came out of it.

"I really admire you, Nanami."

You surprised even yourself.

His eyes then met yours.

"Do you?"

Pondering on your words, you nodded, thinking a little about it.

"You're such a calm, collected and responsible person. You seem to always know exactly what you're doing, meanwhile I'm usually just guessing around. No wonder Ino and Yuuji look up to you."

Even under the soft lighting, you could swear you saw Nanami's face blush a little.

"Thank you," he stated, bowing his head slightly towards your direction.

You smiled at him and sighed right after.

"Most times, I don't think I'm someone people would call admirable or actually look up to."

This was something you hadn't anticipated you'd say. You had never told that to anyone.

But, well, this was him. This was Nanami.

"Why do you say that?" he inquired in earnest.

"Because... Because I'm often hanging by a thread, just trying to survive. I'm not doing great things. I'm barely existing, sometimes."

He mulled his thoughts over for a second before answering you.

"You have a good capacity for adapting, taking whatever life hands you and doing the best you can with it," he noted, "and you keep going even if you feel like you're guessing. Even when you don't know where you're going. That takes bravery, and I find it to be admirable."

Now you were the one surprised, and you could feel your entire face burning the moment he finished uttering those words. You were never one to take compliments easily, but this was a whole other level.

You stood there, mouth slightly agape, faltering without any words.

His eyes had returned to your cheek, and in a swift movement, you heard him say excuse me as he stepped into your direction, rubbing his thumb on it to take off some food you hadn't realized that was still stuck on your face.

Nanami barely registered that the thoughts looping around his mind the entire night about touching you had finally taken the best of him.

Before he could remove his hand, though, you held it in place, lifting your eyes to meet him.

His palm felt warm against your skin, his digits rough, and perfect. Just like he was.

Nanami's expression was unreadable as he gazed back at you, and you began hearing your heartbeats against your ears, muffling the sound of the tapping rain on the window.

Words failed him too, and he was guided by his body once again.

Nanami lowered his face and softly pressed his lips over yours, still tasting like whiskey and Demi-glace, which sent waves — that you couldn't quite discern if were hot or cold, perhaps both — all throughout your body.

It was a quick kiss, though, because shortly after, Nanami backed out, still with his eyes closed, and had something resembling a frown on his face.

"I apologize, that was inappropriate," he mumbled, beginning to pull his hand out from your cheek. You, however, held it in place, and that got him to open his eyes and look at you.

He seemed taken by trepidation under his usual collected demeanor, and his lower lip had the slightest twitch to it as his eyes flickered quickly between your mouth and your eyes.

For a moment, you felt like you were looking into the eyes of the Nanami you once knew — the bangs, the uniform, the seventeen-year-old version of him.

Little did you know that your corresponding younger version was looking right back at him with the same bated breath, just like the teens-becoming-adults in the most traumatic ways you two once were.

"Stop apologizing and kiss me," you pleaded, edging your face closer to his, pulling his towel off your head.

You could feel his breath exhaling against your skin, as Nanami approached his body to yours, putting himself in between your knees, and cupped your face in his hands. His body was incredibly warm, just like his hand, and his woody, musky scent sent your senses spiraling when he finally descended his lips to yours, determined on taking his time — after all, this was a kiss ten years in the making.

His mouth felt velvety and supple, and you both melted into each other while exploring the way his head tilted against yours, how your nails would eventually find their way up the nape of his neck, how your breath would hitch every time he pressed his mouth against yours more intently. Your lips slid wetly over each other with a newfound ease none of you expected.

You were both dipping your toes in the ocean and testing the temperature before committing to dive into deeper waters, taking all the time into familiarizing with the feeling of each other's bodies.

Nanami's hands descended to your waist, leaving a trail of heat on the way, and you let out a soft moan into his mouth when he pressed them against you. He groaned lowly, a sound reverberating from the depths of his chest, as he parted his lips from yours and put some distance in between your faces with his eyes closed.

You didn't understand, but before you could ask anything, he began speaking.

"I don't mean to assume," he stated, letting his forehead rest on yours.

"Hm... What do you mean?"

"I... What I mean is we can stop, in case you don’t..​. We're both still somewhat under the influence. You are," Nanami replied, opening his eyes to look into yours. The faltering restraint dwelling in them was palpable. 

In the back of your mind, you wondered if there was any way of loving him more than you already did. Even now, he was so mindful and careful with you.

"I want this," you replied, resolute, "I want you. I've wanted it all for a very long time. It's not a drunken decision, I mean it."

His gaze softened in a way you had never seen before, one of his hands ascending to brush his thumb over your cheek. Nanami snuggled his nose against yours and sighed, seemingly fluttering.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. I want you," you repeated, incisively.

He let out a huff of air against your mouth, and you could smell his breath, mingled with the scent emanating from him and his clothes. Intoxicating wasn't a strong enough word — you were completely enthralled, entranced and overwhelmed by him. Every sound got muted, but the sound of his breathing. Every smell disappeared, but his. And there was no other temperature in the room other than the warmth of his body.

You had entered tunnel vision mode, and at the end of it, he was your light.

Closing the remaining inches that separated the both of you, he brushed his lips against yours, whispering, "then have me. Have all of me."

Still cupping the side of your face, Nanami tilted it, finally fitting your lips against his again, like lovely little puzzle pieces getting more and more accustomed to each other by the second. He felt around your contours, pressing the tip of his tongue softly over the seam of your mouth, and you warmly welcomed him in, his true taste lingering just under the drinks and sauces being enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

He was salty, fresh, and a breeze of cool air by the seashore.

There were a few times you wondered what he'd be like, but your fantasies were quick to pale in comparison to the reality of him.

Nanami’s broken restraint was completely done for, and just this once, he wanted to let it come tumbling down like a house of cards, as he parted to gaze at your disheveled hair, your flustered face, your slightly puffy lips.

His chest swelled full and content at that sight.

He met you once again, and the ruffling from the fall was sounding better than he could have ever hoped for, insistent heart beat pushing against his ears, encompassing your breathless kissing like a sonnet.

Nanami's hands, however, didn't dare explore beyond your waist, and all this intense make out session was starting to make your panties feel uncomfortable against your pooling arousal. You were starting to feel antsy, and your body was nearly twitching at the aching desire. You needed some kind of relief, or you'd go insane.

Nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase I want you.

You put your hands over his and slip them down to cup your ass, parting from his lips for a moment.

"Stop keeping your hands to yourself. Touch me," you pleaded, with some type of simmering desperation to your voice that you hadn't yet heard — never, actually.

He looked at you, and seemed equally desperate in an unfathomable way. He pulled you in, kneading his fingers fiercely against your skin while moaning into your mouth, and pressed your bodies hard enough for you to feel him pulsating through multiple layers of fabric.

Oh, my.

You knew he was strong, but this was something else. 

Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, and drew the tips of your fingernails down his back, while grinding over his growing erection with your clothed core. Nanami let out a muffled groan on your skin and began kissing your neck intently with messy, open-mouthed kisses.

He put his hands under your thighs and whispered in your ear, "hold on to me."

That caught your attention from your hazy brain.

"I... My hair is still wet. My clothes are a little damp, too. I'm kind of a mess right now," you told him, chuckling sheepishly.

This man's apartment was the most immaculate place you had ever been in your life, and the last thing you wanted to do was to dirty it around with dripping water from the rain. In his bed, of all places.

Nanami immediately pulled himself back and held your face, locking eyes with you.

"You are beautiful right now," he remarked, not giving you enough time for an answer, as he pressed another kiss on your lips — this time, more urgent, a little sloppy, but just as passionate, if not more. You gasped into his mouth, letting your body take control.

In an instant, your arms were draped over his shoulders, your legs tightened firmly around his body, and his strong hands held the back of your thighs, as Nanami lifted you from that counter like you weighed nothing.

You squeaked in surprise, and he uttered a soft, deep chuckle before planting a quick peck on your lips. 

After walking you both into his room, he calmly descended towards the mattress, laying you down delicately and climbing his way on top of you.

When he approached his face to yours, you smiled at him, and he smiled back, sharing a tender moment of silent closeness.

This was probably your favorite shared quietude yet.

“I should get out of these wet clothes,” you stated, giggling softly, before tugging your shirt over your head.

He huffed a soft smiling hum in return, as his palms found their way towards the sides of your hips. Their warmth clashed a stark contrast against your still dampened, cold skin, and his touch was electric, making you involuntarily sigh.

"Help me take these pants off," you cooed, relaxing your legs around his body.

Nanami didn’t need to be told twice, and swiftly slid his hands down to unzip you and pull your damp pants off while you unclasped your bra.

After he was done, his eyes lingered over the drenched patch on your underwear, a realization that definitely riled him up, as his breath got caught midway out his nostrils for a second.

Nanami’s fingers swirled around your bra straps, but before he removed it, you began unbuttoning his shirt, finishing off unclenching his belt and unzipping his pants.

"It would be unfair for me to be the only one exposed here," you remarked, light spirited, while smiling tenderly at him.

He smiled back very much the same way, and pulled his shirt off, downing his pants, letting it all become a wrinkled puddle on the floor. Nanami caged you in between his arms, and pressed a quick kiss on your lips, asking, "do you ever stop?"

"Why don't you try to find out?" you slyly replied.

Nanami wasn't usually one to appreciate being teased. This was especially true when it came to Gojo annoying the hell out of him, and he could — and would — also get annoyed at your snarky teasing from time to time.

But it felt different with you. He wasn't nearly as irritated as he would've been with anybody else.

Perhaps because you teased him with love.

Your hands pulled your bra off and tossed it aside, and for some seconds, he was speechless, contouring his eyes all over your body. With butterflies on his chest, he finally cupped your face in his hands again before kissing you once more, and you couldn’t help but notice he really liked holding you like that when he kissed you — and you'd let him, every time he wanted to.

It was lovely to be held so preciously under such an adoring touch.

Letting go of your lips, Nanami began planting kisses under your jaw, descending towards your neck, and nesting his face in between your breasts, inhaling your scent with his face laid over your skin. With your encouraging hand tangling in his hair, he began kissing and licking his way around, kneading on your breasts with his palms. Your hips instantly bucked up against him, at the same time you let out a needy moan.

He noticed it, very pleased, and gave you the tiny mercy of removing your panties.

Still with his mouth plastered on your skin, Nanami descended one hand towards your folds, and groaned the second his fingers touched over your wetness, cock twitching inside his underwear.

You were drenched.

He sounded so satisfied, you couldn’t help but blush a little in between your moans and mewls, wanting to brat out just a little.

“Hah-- I did say- a-ah… that I wanted you,” you half jested, trying to fend off your fleeting embarrassment, “w-what did you… hah-- expect?” 

He stopped briefly, and lifted his face to look at you, sighing with his classic I could be eye rolling at you right now expression.

You smiled mischievously, fully aware he noticed the teasing.

Nanami brushed his fingers above your clit softly, not breaking eye contact, and you thrust your hips up again, mewling mindlessly. Huffing, you tried saying something, but he pressed his fingers a little more intently, having your words turn into incoherent moaning tumbling down past your lips.

At that moment, you just knew…

You stood defeated.

“Finally, you relentless little devil,” he mumbled, kissing his way down your body, as you huffed a few chuckles in between your pleasured sounds.

If he was so hellbent on shutting down your antics like that, you’d probably try to keep them going all night long. Perhaps you could even break his composure completely.

The idea was enticing.

However, he was the one about to break you apart completely, as you realized when his wet, hot tongue got seared-flat against your clit, and stroked on your glistened folds with the ravenous dedication of a starving man.

Nanami was delighted to have finally shut down your quick-wit tease mouth completely, especially like this.

In the back of his mind, he realized he’d gladly do it every time you got on his nerves. 

Being a pretty tactile person, with heightened senses overall, Nanami was sure that tasting you would feel amazing, but this was otherworldly.

Completely enthralled, he began dipping his tongue inside you to drink you in, having your walls clenching immediately around it.

The sounds you made — your moaning and begging, as your thighs rubbed against his cheeks and fingers tugged on his hair — would be etched in his brain for eternity, he was sure of it.

The moment his hands pressed harder on your thighs, pulling them against his shoulders, and you let out a mixture of a squeal and a moan, something inside him snapped, sending his mouth into a feral quest against your cunt.

Groaning and panting into you, he lapped relentlessly on your folds, nuzzling your clit so intently it nearly sent you crawling over the walls. Your vision was white, starry, black, and then white again, and you wondered for a minute if this was all pleasure or if the light of the room was actually flickering. 

Mouth agape, your moans bounced off the walls, and your back arched desperately, while your entire body tightened with the tell-tale signs of an intense orgasm. Your toes were curling, your ears were ringing, and your face contorted in desperate need for release.

“D-don’t stop- don’t… Hah-- I-m… I-I… Hah---!“

Upon hearing your pleas, Nanami latched his lips on your clit and sucked on it so powerfully you didn’t get tipped over the edge, but was effectively thrown from it with no parachute or lifeline. 

Your entire body tensed and jolted. You came with a desperate cry, tightening your grip on his hair with bruising force. He let out a loud moan, trying to hold himself together as you fell apart on his mouth, and started to lick you softly to wean you off your high.

For a few seconds, your entire body stopped answering any voluntary movement signals from your brain, and you could’ve sworn you forgot your name.

You were sent to heaven and returned unscathed. 

Coming back to Earth, your grip on him loosened, and Nanami brought his mouth up to one of your thighs, pressing gentle kisses over it. 

When your vision wasn’t all abstract colors anymore, you looked down to see Nanami with hooded eyes, resting his chin over your mound, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful creature in existence.

Given what had just transpired, you found it to be incredibly absurd that this — him gazing at you — was what had you blushing violently.

But here you were, hiding your face under the back of your hand, as you chuckled sheepishly solely from the way he looked at you.

This beautiful, adoring man.

The urge to tell him how much you loved him came back, but even like this, so unclad and vulnerable, it was incredibly hard.

Nanami was barely blinking, wondering how he had allowed — or better, forced — himself to live without this, without you, for so long.

“I’m starting to feel embarrassed,” you said, equal parts joking and genuine, as you finally managed to meet his glance again. 

He blinked a few times, being pulled from his thoughts, whispering a half-hearted apology as he crawled his way back to you. 

His hair was a mess, his lips were rosy and puffy, and his eyes…

His eyes.

Trying to keep yourself from becoming a fluttering chaos all over again, you shook your head lightly as you resumed speaking.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you cooed, sliding your fingers down his face, pressing your lips to his. Nanami pushed his tongue inside your mouth, and you moaned in response, tasting your essence mixed in with his own flavor.

God, you could kiss him and taste this for hours on end.

His mouth and tongue flowed and veered softly, with no rush other than to imprint your flavor in him. Nanami clearly was a kisser — a very good one —, and was delighted to keep exploring you like that for as long as you’d let him. 

Suddenly, you had a little wicked idea creeping up on you, as you made some effort to finally part your lips from his and uttered, “you know what, I’m sorry.”

Nanami was puzzled.

“What do you m-“

With your strength back, you locked your legs on the sides of Nanami’s waist and rolled his body over, landing on top of him. 

His breath was caught for a moment before he smiled at you. Smiling back, you straddled yourself back, diving your fingers on the edges of his boxers to slide them down.

Nanami helped you by raising his body, and the moment you removed the piece of clothing, his cock sprang out, bearing a flushed, bulbous, red tip that mutely slapped against his belly. It was bigger than you anticipated, thicker too, and you wondered if you could fit it all in your mouth.

Probably not.

You also didn’t fail to notice the very evident damp patch on his underwear from his pre-cum alone.

He must be desperate right now, you thought to yourself, enticingly amused.

However, the moment you were about to wrap your fingers around him and descend, Nanami held your hand and sat up. He seemed slightly… Embarrassed?

“Hm… what is it?” you asked, pressing against his hand.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m… very wound up. Could we…” Nanami mumbled, words dying on their way out. 

Truth was, ever since the moment you were grinding your clothed cunt against him, his mind was boiling to the thought of burying himself inside you to the hilt.

There was no sugar-coating it. 

“Oh…” you let out, “so… you want me too?” you asked, a hint of amusement to your voice.

You weren’t the only one needy tonight.

He sighed from the depths of his soul.

“Stop teasing.”

His voice came out raspy, more of a plea than an actual chide.

The man was crumbling down, and it was delightful to watch The Nanami Kento, always so unflappable, falling apart like this.

You chuckled and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you offered in earnest.

He exhaled gently, gaze towards you softening as he did.

You blushed a little before proceeding.

“Where is the…”

“First drawer.”

Everything happened quickly. You snatched the condom from his nightstand and opened it. Nanami took it from your hands and slid it down his length. A soft sigh escaped his lips as the rubber snapped at the end.

Softly crawling your way towards him, you put both hands on his shoulders to straddle on his lap. Nanami locked his gaze on you, not breaking eye contact even for a second, right up until you both finally kissed again.

His hands began making their way down your back, and then…

You felt it.

The tip of Nanami’s fingers pressed against the scar you had right over your spine, and you gasped in pain as it hit the bundle of tangled nerves bumping over your skin. You instantly backed your face away with an aching grimace.

Nanami had witnessed how you got that scar in the fateful mission in which you two met years ago.

The sound of the blade piercing through your skin and flesh still lingered on in his nightmares.

His hand retreated so quickly you barely felt it leaving your body.

Following the aftershock, you opened your eyes to see him with his own eyes sealed shut, and Nanami appeared to be crawling his way back into his mind. His expression, usually so calm and collected, was replaced by a pained frown of his brows.

“I apologize, I… I’m…” he muttered, and you realized this wasn’t an apology for what just happened.

He still blamed himself for what had taken place then.

It broke your heart to shambles to see him like that, knowing full well nothing that transpired that night was his fault.

You cupped his jaw in your palms, and pressed your forehead to his.

"Hey, stop it. Stop apologizing, you haven't failed me. You never failed me."

Nanami's eyes were still very much sealed, and he seemed to be pulling even further away from you as the memories swirled around in his mind.

"Please, look at me," you pleaded, nuzzling against his face.

After a sigh, he answered, "I… I can't."

And he truly couldn't, still feeling the shame eating away at his chest like a parasite.

You scrambled your mind after something that might help, and finally realized the only thing you could say to pull him back.

Shit.

You were still terrified, and your entire body tensed up.

This is it. Now. I have to tell him now.

According to Nanami, you were brave.

And love, apparently, is something brave people do.

Still cupping his jaw, you sighed before letting the words come out of your mouth.

"Nanami Kento, I love you."

Your voice didn’t falter or stutter. Your declaration smoothly left your lips as naturally as breathing — the same way loving him came to you.

His breath caught halfway out, and he finally opened his eyes, soft and bare, gazing into yours.

"I love you, I have loved you for so long, I…" you repeated, sighing greatly, "I love you."

Nanami opened his mouth, but for a second, nothing — not even a huff of air — would pass. Knotting away in his throat, the words also struggled to form.

Should he? Could he? How deep in trouble would this launch the both of you?

Surpassing his worries, eventually, the words finally came out.

"I love you too."

The guilt and trauma had taken a backseat in his mind, at least for now.

When you heard Nanami’s words — heard him say that he loved you too —, your heart immediately began fluttering, and you could've sworn there was a ringing sound around the both of you.

There wasn't, though, just as much as the honeyed dewy warm rain that prickled over your entire skin was a manifestation of your love ridden excited imagination.

Smiling, you pulled him in for a kiss, and he intently pressed his lips against yours, no exploration left to be done — your tongues, by this point of the night, had met and familiarized themselves with every inch of each other's mouths, breaths, and moans.

Mindlessly, his hands plastered themselves back into your body, and brushed up from your hips, to your waist, over your back all the way to your shoulder blades.

Nanami brought you even closer, and kept kneading his hands against you, almost as if he was trying to touch your entirety all at once.

His fingertips ghosted softly around your scar accidentally again, and your breath hitched for a second. You pulled your mouth from his, just long enough to say, "lay me down."

Nanami understood it, and acquiesced. Swiftly, he supported you from your shoulders and hips, laying you down like a porcelain treasure, and caged you in with one hand to each side of your head.

You both took a few moments to admire each other.

Nanami was a tall and broad man, but from underneath, he seemed even more mountainous. His angular face, his wide shoulders and muscular arms, everything about him was just grand.

In a second, though, interrupting your gazing, his hand pulled a pillow from the top of the bed, and he gently lifted your head to put it underneath.

That was it.

In the end, you knew that his kindness, just as grand as he was, was what stole your heart.

Nanami slowly descended over you, and supported himself with his forearm to the side of your head, using his free hand to part the slightly sweaty hair on your forehead and press a fleeting, soft kiss in between your brows. Your heart skipped a beat, and his mouth came down pecking at your face in the most delicate fashion, until it rested on one of your cheeks.

You guided your hand down and positioned his tip towards your entrance, noticing Nanami shuddering with the sensation of your fingers clasping around him. His hand got down to the side of your hip, and Nanami let out a soft huff as he began to slowly push his length inside. He could feel himself gliding along your slick folds, and scrunched his eyes shut as the tip got past the resistance of your ring, eyelashes brushing over your skin with a feathery lingerance.

To say he was savoring this down to the last infinitesimal tactile sensation would be a gross understatement.

You dragged the tips of your fingers down the muscles of his abdomen, seeing how he deliciously flexed himself inside you, as you savored this in your own way too.

Sinking inch by inch, you could feel all the muscle stretches while his girth accommodated inside your walls, widening and filling you as he slipped in further. Your mouth opened in a muted moan, and with a hazy mind, you turned your face towards his, having the tip of his nose brushing over until your noses bumped against each other.

You captured his lips haphazardly, and Nanami stroked his tongue over your mouth, groaning the moment he bottomed out inside you.

You felt him almost kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock, and your mind was sent spiraling with the shivers that shot up from your lower abdomen to your entire body. It got you fluttering around his shaft, and Nanami's grip on your hip suddenly tightened, as a strained groan fell from his lips.​

It took you a second to realize exactly what was going on.

"I-I… need… a second,” he mustered up to say in a cracked, coarse voice. His length was throbbing strongly inside you, and his expression looked almost pained. You noticed his fist beside your head was strongly clenched around the bedsheet.

Nanami wasn't lying when he said he was very wound up.

You planted a small, loving peck over his cheek and drew your hands to the back of his head, gently brushing your thumbs against his hair until you felt Nanami’s body relaxing, and his pulse inside you evening out to something calmer. He eventually let go of the bedsheet and drew his hand closer, tangling his fingers in your hair.

In an easy, gradual pace, Nanami began dragging his length out from you, and did so completely, pushing back inside the same way, robbing you of a gasp the moment he bottomed out again. His hips began in a steady, calm rhythm, and from your mouth, came out what he could only say were the best sounds he had ever heard.

“Fuck-- y-you feel… so good…” you purred for him, sending pleasured shivers all over his body. You were both completely covered in sweat right now, and your bodies slapped against each other, sounds only covered by your begging whimpers.

However, as good as it was, you needed more. Greedily, you felt the increasing need of being completely taken apart, and this slow love making was not doing it for you.

“Harder…” you pleaded, and Nanami picked up the pace as soon as he heard you, thrusts becoming more intense. It was better, no doubt about it, but you still wanted more.

Your hungry desire had become something indescribable, and all you could do was mumble softly in between mewls, pleading him to go even harder.

Nanami was also feeling himself grow more and more intent on satisfying your pleas, and realized this might not be the best position to do so. 

He stopped for a second, and you muttered in complaint.

However, your disquiet was short-lived, as he propped himself up, manhandling your hips to accompany him and pulled one of your legs straight, letting your ankle rest on his shoulder, supporting your leg with his arm's length and hand cupping your ass. Your other leg kept hooked around him, and this shift sent his cock even deeper.

“Harder?” Nanami asked, almost as a dare, with his disheveled hair falling over his forehead, a few golden strands tangling with sweat. There was something remotely playful in his eyes, and it sent your heart pounding inside your chest to see him in a way you had never seen before.

Oh, how you coveted to freeze this moment in time.

In answer to his question, you nodded, half-lidded eyes and an anticipation smile, only to be surprised with a thumb making its way to your bottom lip, softly asking its way in.

You obliged, and put your lips around it, sucking on his thumb, basking in the view of this boulder of a man completely shuddering to the sight and sensation of that.

Nanami pulled his hand back, resting his digit over your clit.

“Hold on to something, darling” he warned, having a cheeky smile pulling on his face. 

In sweet anticipation, you pressed your hands against the wall on which the bed rested, and locked eyes with Nanami, just to see him admiring you for a moment before he made a complete mess out of you.

In a sharp motion, he thrust his cock into you so intensely his tip bumped fully against your cervix, trembling the bed on its foundations. Your head launched on the pillow, your mouth falling open to let out the loudest moan — if that sound even be called a moan — you had ever uttered in your entire life.

Not sparing you a moment to recover, he retreated and plunged again and again inside your cunt, sending wet plap sounds bouncing over the walls. Nanami began rutting into you, kissing you deeper and deeper with every thrust, and you were nearly yelling from the pleasurable pain with which he had you finally crumbling down.

“Fuck,” he let out, “is this-- hah- hard enough--?” Nanami asked half in jest, knowing full well he didn’t need an answer. The way your back began arching so deliciously as you yelled and mumbled incoherently was enough of a response.

Every time he’d thrust, your body would tense up, and your walls would suck him in. It was sending his mind into a wild spiral.

Nanami was mesmerized by your face, and had the faintest feeling that he might cum from it alone. You looked and sounded like you were having the most delicious, toe-curling, gut-wrenching, blissful-stupor inducing sex of your life.

And well, up until at that moment, you actually were.

Dear God, he could die right now, and he’d die the happiest man alive.

You were having shock waves of stupor-filled pleasure shooting through your body, and Nanami began circling his thumb over your throbbing, sensitive clit. Oh boy, did he have you seeing the entire Milky Way in a split second behind your eyelids. Your mind distantly registered the noise of dragging wood and your fingers starting to struggle reaching support behind your head.

Is the bed pushing away from the wall? Are we literally rocking the bed? Holy shit.

A heat you rarely felt began to burn like incandescent molten lava in your belly, and you looked at him wide eyed, holding out onto some kind of desperation.

Nanami barely registered that you were looking at him like that when he felt the warm spurts, getting his entire crotch completely greased. You squirted so intensely that for a second you felt like you actually fell unconscious, before coming back to the second wave — the continuum of earth-shattering, convulsing orgasms that always followed it.

He wasn’t ready to have you squirt all over his cock so fervently, letting out the most heavenly, luscious, indecent and pornographic sounds he had ever heard.

He could never be prepared for that.

The sheer scent alone sent shivers throughout his entire body. Your scent was completely smeared over him, slowly dripping down his thighs.

With your walls tightening around his cock, his own peak took him by surprise, as much as he had tried to hold it away. The most animalistic and ferocious groan came out of his mouth as thick strands of white cum filled up the condom. Nanami's entire body jerked, making it incredibly difficult to keep pumping himself into you without risking pulling out too much by mistake, so he just let the convulsing waves finish washing down his body before collapsing on the bed by your side.

You both took a moment to breathe, then two, then three, still panting like you had just run a marathon.

Hell, you were probably panting even harder than that.

"I'm… I’m s-sorry about… the mess," you apologized, huffing and puffing, face blushing as you rolled your eyes back, still recovering from the aftershock.

Nanami instantly turned your face to his, mouth agape and gaze locked onto your lips, as he, without uttering a word, thrust his tongue inside your mouth in an open-mouthed, wet, sloppy kiss. All while still panting heavily.

Pulling back, you smiled, asking, “nothing to apologize for?”

He huffed, smiling back at you, “nothing.” 

You both felt like you'd have the best night of sleep of your lives.

Nanami would not, however, as the thoughts he shoved away to the back of his mind earlier that night were about to take him into unwanted nightmares.

End notes:

I can’t reread this again. I just can’t. Hope I got all the typos out, lol. Old version of this fic is here. When I read it a few weeks ago, I came to the conclusion that I didn’t quite like it, so I decided to give it a go on rewriting it. Three rewrites later, here it is, hope you guys enjoyed it.

-

Tag list (for this fic + current AU tags):

@jadedjane @senseifupa @nikos-a-clown @fairy-corno @ldrcvlt

@magical-girl-b @montyrokz @hexrts-anatomy @g-kleran @otomesass

@redlikerozez @yammy-yammy-yama

[yelenasdiary]

WandaNat yelling at each other over their last mission and reader having a ptsd episode (sudden loud noises, combat or abusive ex?)? Maybe reader goes black out for a few hours and wakes up in the forest outside the compound and WandaNat are trying to find her? Super angst to fluff? If thats okay 🤧

Notice Me

Pairing: WandaNat x Fem! Reader

Summary: When your girlfriends get into a heated argument, it triggers an episode for you, leaving the women to find you alone in the woods by the compound. 

Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, Mentions of an Abusive Ex, Hints of Domestic Violence, | 1.3K

Translations: Detka (baby),

AC: Thank you for sending this, I hope I did okay! Please don’t read this if you’re uncomfortable with the mentioned topics. Enjoy! x

The back-and-forth yelling coming from the hall only seemed to get louder as your girlfriends, Wanda, and Natasha, had just returned from a mission. You were reading a book, completely relaxed, and enjoying the quietness to read when you heard the familiar voices. Wanda opened the door to the shared bedroom, Natasha following close behind her. You looked up from your book and smiled softly at the women, but they didn't seem to have even noticed you laying on the bed in one of Nat's sweaters. 

"What should I have done huh?" Wanda snapped, throwing her coat over the office chair by the desk. 

"Oh, I don't know, maybe wait for your team?!" Natasha argued, "Wands, you have powers that others don't have but that doesn't mean you get to put yourself in a life-or-death situation!" The red head added. Wanda rolled her eyes, "do you really want to talk about life-or-death situations? Because you seem to throw yourself into the line of fire at the first chance you get!" Wanda rose her voice. 

"I'm trained to do so!" Natasha argued back, tossing her bag to the floor. The loud thud of her bag hitting the floor made you jump; she didn't care for her weapons that were inside. 

"Guys" you tried to interrupt before things escalated but it was too late. Wanda's eyes flashed with red chaos before she used her magic to slam the door closed, another loud thud that only drew you closer to an episode. "Guys, please!" You begged over their yelling voices but still, it was like you weren't even there.

The arguing continued until eventually, you couldn't take it anymore. Their tones got stronger, the slamming of things down got louder until everything went black as you left the room. 

----

"Wands, have you seen Y/n?" Nat asked when Wanda came out of the bathroom in her comfortable clothing and her hair wrapped in a towel. Wanda shook her head, "I haven't seen her, not even when we got back but then again th-"

"Please don't start now" Natasha sighed, "Nobody has seen Y/n since lunch when she said she was going to come here and wait for us" she added, her tone of voice full of worry. Wanda looked to the bed and saw your opened book on the bed and your empty plate from lunch on the bedside table. She used her magic to take her back to the argument she had hours before with Natasha, "oh god" she spoke under her breath. 

"What?" Natasha asked, "what is it?" 

"We're selfish idiots, that's what! Get your coat, we have to find her" she replied.

Natasha grabbed her coat and met Wanda downstairs. Wanda could see the amount of worry and concern on Natasha's face, she took a moment to give her partner some comfort. "Nat, we'll find her and it'll be okay" she assures the widow but all this is a little too close to home for Nat. 

"I can't lose her" Natasha broke.

"I know darling, we'll find her" Wanda wiped the rolling tear that Natasha had let go.

Wanda asked some of the others to join the search to find you, you didn't take your phone and Natasha noticed you left without your shoes on. Wanda tried her best to use her magic to find you, but something was blocking your mind from allowing her to do so. 

Everybody broke up into small groups of two. Tony and Bruce started by car, driving around the surrounding neighborhood and closest stores. Steve and Thor searched the compound and surrounding areas while Natasha and Wanda searched the woods close by. It was only getting darker by the minute; the cold air began to get cold which only made every bodies worry and concern for your well-being even stronger. 

"Wands! Over here" Natasha called out when she noticed footprints in the softened dirt. Wanda rushed to Nat's side, "this way, come on" Nat added. The two called out your name over and over as they walked deeper and deeper into the darkness of the woods. 

"Nat, maybe we call Steve and get him to fly the jet over" Wanda suggested but Natasha shook her head, "the loudness will only make things worse" she reminded Wanda. 

As the two tried their best to keep track of your footprints in the dirty, they heard the loud crunches of leaves up ahead. Natasha signaled to Wanda to pause their movements in-case it was a wild animal but instead, it was you. Stumbling out of the trees only for Natasha to catch you in her arms as you fell. 

"Y/n! are you okay?" Natasha asked, brushing your hair from your face. Wanda rushed quickly to your side as Nat handed you to her before taking off her coat and instantly covering you in it to warm you up. "E-everything….it….y-ou" you stuttered, "shh, it's okay darling. You're safe now" Wanda pulled you closer to her, placing a kiss on the top of your head as your sobs became clear. 

Wanda used her powers to levitate you back to the compound, not wanting to keep you out in the cold any longer. When Natasha got to your shared room, the two of them forgot about their argument and ran you a warm bath, they bathed you and helped you into your favorite pjs because making sure you were comfortable in bed. 

"Detka, what happened?" Natasha asked in a soft tone. You looked over at her, your eyes filled with tears and mind filled with worry that you might have angered your girlfriends. "It's okay love, you talk to us" Wanda chipped in. 

You took a moment to gather your feelings before you spoke, "You guys didn't even notice I was in here, you both came in yelling and slamming doors and when I tried to get between it, you both just didn't seem to notice me. I hid under the covers to try and drown out the yelling but some of the things you both said to one another just triggered me…" you explained with a pause, "everything just went back after Wanda said 'you know better' in that tone you had" you added, looking over at Wanda. 

Natasha took you into her arms, "I'm so sorry detka, we promise never to let this happen again" she spoke, her hand rubbing up and down on your back. Wanda couldn't shake the terror in your eyes when she held you in the woods, she was quickly reminded of the fear you once had with your ex whom the women saved you from, she never, ever wanted to make you feel like that again. 

"How about I fix us some hot coco and we watch whatever movie you like?" Wanda suggested, wanting to light the mood and help you forget about this afternoon. You looked up at Wanda and nodded, "can I please have double whipped cream?" You asked. Both of your girlfriends chuckled at your request, "is that even a question?" Wanda smiled before leaning over and pecking a soft kiss on your cheek, "anything you want darling" she whispered. 

When Wanda came back with the three mugs of hot coco, the three of you curled up in bed and watched your favorite movie of all time. You were in the middle, Natasha to your left and Wanda to your right, both of them resting their heads on your shoulder. It wasn't long until you started to feel okay once again and the fear from their argument faded away as you drifted off to sleep before the end credits rolled on the screen. Wanda tucked you in and placed a kiss on your forehead before Natasha did the same. 

"Date night tomorrow? I think we could with some time away from work" Wanda whispered, "I couldn't agree more!" Natasha smiled before the two shared a kiss.

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[reiderwriter]

At Long Last Love Has Arrived

Final Chapter of That's What You Get

Summary: After a hard case, the team gathers in a celebration of love and friendship.

Warnings: suggestive content, no smut. Spoilers for Seaaon 7 Episodes "Hit" and "Run."

A/N: This is it! This is the final chapter! It's been a long journey and I'm so thankful to everyone who liked, commented, reblogged, and generally followed along with the story! And to anyone who is here now that it's finished: Thank you as well! For now, this is everything I have planned for this series, but I might add a few epilogues a few months down the line!

For everyone waiting for my last week of kinktober content, thank you for being so patient! I'm hoping to get it all finished and the backlog up this weekend, so let's just count this as a super special weekend special!

As always, you can find my masterlist here and the series masterlist here!

It was late in the day when the case finally wrapped, and you'd never felt more relieved to have come out of a case unscathed. 

JJ was a wreck, obviously, having had her family targeted and believing on multiple occasions that she was about to lose her partner. Emily was acting strange, too, and you were growing more concerned with her, especially after she'd put herself in harm's way to save Will. 

The team was exhausted, and you gladly slunked away that night, practically falling into your own apartment as you tried to bury a day of close calls. Spencer followed you, of course. The two of you sat silently together after the days events, just thankful to have company, really. 

Your husband (you were still warming yourself up to that title) sat, jaw tensed, on your couch, book in hand and hair a mess as you sat beside him, slowly sinking further into the couch as you thanked the gods that everyone got through that, but especially him. 

"Spencer," you whispered, looking at him to see if he'd notice your small sounds. No reaction.

"Spencer." You tried again, still in a whisper, but he still didn't make a move. Sighing and falling further into the couch, you decided just to go for it and laid your head in his lap quietly, closing your eyes and finding a comfortable position. He didn't bat an eye, though, simply tangling a hand through your hair and gently stroking it until the comforting repetition pulled you into a dreamless slumber. 

He tried to wake you up gently a few hours later, but the shrill ring of his cell interrupted his gentle touches. You gasped and startled up, almost headbutting him but instead ending up face to face, close enough to hear the hitch in his breath as he caught you just before you collided. 

"Sorry��� I must've fallen asleep." Your voice was low, mostly because you'd let your gaze fall down to his lips, getting distracted by his proximity. 

"You did." He said, stroking your back and looking just as distracted. 

"We should probably pick that call up, right," you suggested, but you were already being drawn into his orbit, noses practically touching.

"Maybe we should," he replied, but instead of moving to do so, he simply tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and pulled your face up to his. The slant of his lips against yours was calming, so sweet and familiar, and so goddamn good that it helped drown out the pitchy screech of his phone. His hand stayed firmly on your jaw, controlling your movements and showing you exactly what he wanted in these stolen moments.

As the kiss went on, it grew hotter, a gentle flame searing your chest as you begged his lips to put it out, needing more and more of him. His hand left your jaw, falling instead to your ass as he pulled you on top of him fully, letting you straddle him as he kept your lips connected. 

You were entranced, letting him devour you to your heart's content. You wanted to move your hips to feel more of him at your core, but he had a firm grip and wasn't letting you go that easily. 

"Talk about topping from the bottom," you laughed into his ear as you pulled away for a second, pushing your hair behind your ear before he grabbed you and pulled you down for another hungry kiss.

"Don't get bratty, Y/N, we both know you're a pillow princess," you laughed at that and he took advantage, pressing his lips to your neck as he finally let your hips fall to meet his. Your laugh morphed into a hiss as you desperately clung to his shoulders, head thrown back in the bliss of what was to come. 

The ringing had stopped, thankfully, and honestly, it was so far from your mind that you'd almost completely forgotten what had woken you in the first place.

Until it started again, except this time it was vibrations in your pants and you practically moaned out loud before clapping a hand over your mouth and bolting from Spencer's lap, grabbing your phone as fast as you could while Spencer barely contained his enjoyment of the situation. 

"This is Y/N." You said into the receiver as you glared daggers at him. 

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but considering Doctor Reid just let my call ring out, I think I might have." David Rossi's barely contained mirth was evident even through the phone, and you mouthed some bad words at Spencer as he grabbed you and pulled you down into his lap again. 

"Since that wasn't a question, I won't be dignified it with a response. Is there anything you need, Rossi?" You asked, tipping your head back against Spencer’s shoulder but not letting yourself relax just yet. You'd never be able to live it down if you made any mistakes on this call. 

"Somehow, the knuckleheads around me keep getting engaged and married, and as a generous soul, I find myself wanting to help them." 

"Who got engaged?" You said, suddenly perking up. It'd been a tough day. Some good news and a celebration were direly needed. 

"Relax, I'm getting there. Are you and your now seemingly permanent husband free tomorrow night? A little birdie may have told me about a certain blonde finally giving into a proposal today. That same birdie may also have already flown out a Mrs. Jareau to bare witness."

"David Rossi, has anyone ever told you what a wonderful man you are?" 

"Not enough, I'm sure."

"We'll be there. What time?" He told you the details, and you whispered them into Spencer's ear, knowing that was just as good as jotting it down on paper. 

"And Rossi?" You said, as you were about to say your goodbyes, "thank you. For everything." The call ended and looked back up at Spencer from your place on his lap. 

"I think we have another shotgun wedding to attend." 

–X– 

Waiting for JJ to come down in her wedding dress, you were reminded again of what a truly wonderful choice of husband you had made. 

The two of you had arrived together at the wedding, but had made a small attempt to separate yourselves for now, not wanting to take the attention away from JJ and Will on their big day after their nightmarish week. You'd had a quick wink from Penelope, though, and a wiggle of the eyebrows from Emily, which made you chuckle as she handed you a flute of champagne. 

"You look incredible, Mrs. Reid." She said under her breath, and you giggled a bit but called her off as best you could. 

"Laying low for now, so keep your mouth shut, Agent Prentiss." She stuck her tongue out at you, and the two of you burst into laughter as you enjoyed the peaceful ambience Rossi had created in his back garden. 

"If Rossi ever re-retires, he should think of pursuing a career as a party planner. I know writing is working out well for him, but damn, that man could make a killing." Emily joked, catching your attention for a second, but you were distracted, eyes watching Reid from across the lawn. 

He was crouched down beside Henry, showing the eager, bright-eyed boy a magic trick. He looked so happy, so genuinely engaged with Henry, focusing his entire attention on him, that you couldn't help but watch on fondly. You knew how it felt to have his attention devoted entirely on you, and you felt your skin grow warm as you imagined how he would be with his own children. 

With your children. 

"Looking a little feverish there, Y/N. Baby feverish." In embarrassment, you looked away, letting your eyes fall around the lawn to anything but Reid as you tried to stammer out a response. 

"Whatever could you mean? Oh, would you look at that, Hotch is calling me over, see you." 

A skilful exit it was not, and now you'd forced yourself to go and make awkward conversation with your boss for a few minutes to escape the cackles of laughter escaping Emily behind you. You felt your ears glow red as you slowly marched across the lawn, convinced that someone was going to try and extinguish you before you reached your destination. 

Luckily, Beth saw you approach before Hotchner did and called out to you, extending a smile and a greeting. 

"Y/N, you look lovely. It's great to see you. How have you been?" You exchanged pleasantries and chatted for a while before Hotch cut in again. 

''Beth, I think the ceremony is starting soon. Would you mind finding Jack for me while I discuss something with Y/N?" He dismissed her effortlessly, and you suddenly dreaded the conversation that was about to come, noting your slip up from a few nights before. 

"Y/N, I don't mean to pry, but I've been meaning to ask you about your relationship with Spencer." Your eyes opened wide as you blinked at him again for another second. 

"Hold on, you don't know?" He looked down at you with a furrowed brow, somehow thinking you'd both misunderstood the conversation and where it was headed. 

In all honesty, you'd jumped to the conclusion after his warning over the phone the day before that he'd known about your relationship with Spencer. It didn't really make all that much sense to you, but you thought he must've been your second witness, only because there were very few people with the power to keep Penelope Garcia silent. But now, you wondered if you'd been wrong.

"Don't know what? Y/N, I'm simply asking a question about your physical relationship with Reid and if you think it will color either of your judgements on cases." 

"Physical… oh my god." You begged the earth to swallow you whole at that point. 

"I'm correct in thinking you two had relations whilst we were staying in Las Vegas, am I not?" His brow stayed furrowed as he fished for more information.

"How… How did you know?" 

"Spencer babbled about Star Trek in the lobby that last morning in Vegas. He seemed nervous, and combined with your suspicious attitude, it wasn't exactly a well-kept secret. Plants aren't great hiding spots, Y/N." 

"Oh god," you groaned again, a hand falling to your mouth to cover your shocked face as you took everything in. He'd practically known from the start, even if he hadn't really known. "So you want to know if we can be trusted to stay impartial in the field." 

"Simply put, yes, it is a concern of mine. The FBI technically frowns on casual hookups between employees, but in this case, if you can work professionally-" 

"We're married," you blurted out before you could stop yourself. You almost enjoyed the shock on Aaron Hotchner's face as you dropped that bombshell, as momentary as it was. 

"That certainly…changes things." He considered your words for a moment before opening his mouth again. "We can talk about this in the office on Monday. For now, congratulations are in order." 

As you clicked your glasses together awkwardly, Rossi gathered everyone's attention, ready to begin the ceremony. You took your place next to Spencer and let him grab your hand and squeeze it for a moment, sharing a look before you turned your gaze back to JJ and watched as her mother walked her down the aisle to marry the love of her life. 

His hand in yours was warm and constant, and he held you so softly that you felt like you were floating. He'd been worried that morning that you'd feel slightly forlorn at the wedding ceremony. After all, you didn't have much of one, even if he'd promised you 100 do-overs and vow renewals. 

But standing here with him, you found yourself feeling thankful simply that he was there with you. Your wedding had been perfect, and you gladly applauded JJ and Will as they finally kissed at the altar, wishing them all the bliss that you felt in that moment. 

The party was a blast and you had an amazing time eating, drinking and dancing with all your guests, gladly taking the opportunity to hog Spencer for a few dances, enjoying how you were able to shamelessly cling to him with no one batting an eye. Your joy and laughter spilt out every time he swung you around and pulled you into him, abuzz with love. 

You were almost glad when JJ called you all in for a quick speech, grateful to let your feet have a rest - Spencer may have been dancing enthusiastically, but he was still Spencer, and your toes had been attacked a few times in the course of your few dances. 

"I want to say thank you for coming here tonight, and, of course, thank you, Rossi, for hosting this beautiful wedding. It's not every day we get to celebrate a wedding in the BAU, let alone two in one year, so I'm just thankful we got to come together to celebrate like this." 

Will looked perplexed by her side as she raised her flute to start the toast. 

"Hold on, who else got married?" 

Your eyes widened as you stopped your champagne flute by your lips, suddenly catching on to the thread of conversation. 

"Oh my god, it was you!" You shouted, jumping up and probably confusing every single guest in attendance. "JJ, you- you were the other witness!" You stood there shaking a pointed finger at her, semi shocked. 

"Witness to what?" Morgan asked tentatively, wondering what he'd been left out of for a second. 

"I guess the cats out the bag. Sorry, Spence." 

"Why are you apologising to Spencer? Who got married?" Derek's questions were going unanswered, though, as you blubbered in the middle of the crowd suddenly put the pieces together. 

"You know, the FBI really shot themselves in the foot when they let you go over to Homeland. You're good." You cracked a smile at JJ, and she smiled back, just as you felt a hand on your back. 

"We didn't want to announce it here and hijack your wedding, but since you kinda let it slip first, would you mind if we…?" Spencer vaguely gestured between you, just as JJ let him take the floor, her and Will standing off to the side as Spencer turned the both of you around to face the crowd. 

You tried to meet his gaze as he did  but his eyes stayed trained on the crowd in front of you instead. Still puzzled, he began to talk, and you listened. 

"Last month, we chose to get married in Las Vegas," he started and braced for impact as he looked out at the audience. "And- and it seems like most of you knew that?" He'd theorised that most of your team knew already, but he wasn't prepared for just how many of them stood looking back at him with a sheepish 'yes, we know' look on their faces. 

"Wait, how do so many of you know?" He glanced around the crowd, landing on Rossi's gloating face first. 

"Don't look at me kid, you told me about it, and I kept my mouth shut."

He turned to Emily next. "Y/N sent me a text meant for someone else, and I tortured the information out of her after that." 

Exasperated, he looked down at you before shaking his head and looking at Hotch. 

"I expressed some concerns about your… involvement earlier, and Y/N informed me about your relationship status." He explained, tone serious in that mocking way only he could carry off. 

"And I was there, and so was Penelope." JJ filled in the gaps, leaving you feeling particularly bashful at Spencer’s side.

In a second, though, you were consumed by giggles as Morgan whipped around on Penelope dramatically. 

"Et tu, baby girl? Am I seriously the only one who didn't know?" Morgan glanced around receiving pats on the back from the crowd as they slowly trickled back to the dance floor, picking up extra drinks as they went. 

"No, I'm there with you, Morgan. JJ didn't even tell me you guys were dating." Will said, looking genuinely taken aback once again. 

"Oh, well. That's probably because we didn't actually date. We just got married." You replied, feeling your face flood with heat as you stuttered the words out once again. 

"You're telling me I had to almost die to get JJ to agree to marry me, even after 7 years of dating and a child, and you managed to convince a woman to do it in one night in Vegas?" Will seemed genuinely impressed, and with a laugh, gave Spencer a clap on the back awkwardly as he offered his congratulations. 

Penelope led Morgan away to console him, and the other happy couple walked back to the dance floor again as well, leaving you in the arms of your husband, as you finally had to face your small mistakes. 

"So, Mrs. Reid, whatever happened to keeping this to ourselves for a while?" 

"Honest mistakes, both of them, I swear." He took your hands in his and pulled them up so he could kiss your wrists before gently dropping them and pulling you in at the waist. 

His mouth fell to your ears as he spoke again. 

"And I was so looking forward to using one of the methods we brainstormed the other night." You stood confused for a second as he pulled back to watch your expressions, your mouth twitching the second you realised what he meant. 

Ring. Motel. Loud sex. And breeding you until he knocked you up. 

Clearing your throat, you wrapped your arms up and around his shoulders, hanging yourself off him, putting yourself at his mercy as you fluttered your eyelashes up at him. 

"Well, I wouldn't want to spoil your enjoyment now, would I? I'm sure we can still find the time to try those methods out." 

The excitement in his eyes was almost comical, and you genuinely yelped as he literally swept you off your feet. 

"Spencer, what are you doing? Put me down!" 

"No, you're coming home with me, Mrs. Reid. Sorry, it's official now. You're mine."

"And I'm not going to forget it easily, now put me down." 

"And let you go back on your promise to let me do some very dirty things to you? Never." 

With another startled squeak, he carried you through the crowd and right to the doors, carrying you all the way into your new life together.

At long last, your love had arrived, and he was carrying you away into your future.

🏷 @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @whovianwholikesgirls @doriantomybasil

[mr2swap]

The great shift: Swap Sindrome 1

In a dimly lit room, I was masturbating with my fingertips in front of a pale white monitor. As I watched the images of boys around the age of high school students lined up on the screen, I fantasized about taking off their clothes and touching their naked bodies.

-ahh, ahh… ahh-

I closed my eyes as I fantasized about the scenes that were still etched in my memory, the memories of my body and my Gymbros in the locker room flooded my mind, At this moment there was nothing erotic about looking at my best friends or touching their oily and muscles to feel The Progress we had made in the gym, but now it was different, I was different.

I continued looking at the photographs that were shown on the Instagram profiles of my former friends, while the desperation and excitement with which I moved My small cock increased more and more.

I kept changing the photos until a photograph of my old body was displayed on the entire screen. I enlarged the photograph just so I could rotate the most erotic parts of my old body. I focused my gaze on the armpits that still had a couple of drops of stinky and sticky sweat running down towards my abdomen.

-FUUUCK! What I wouldn't give to smell those musky holes again-

The shameful and perverted words that came out of my mouth really embarrassed me, but right now I had no control over myself the only thing I wanted was to fantasize about my old hairy armpits, lick his hard biceps and play with his grazed nipples, The memory of the last time I could smell a sweaty t-shirt from my original body made me ejaculate violently, the semen spread across the keyboard of the old computer that was in front of me.

At that moment my head cleared, from one moment to the next the animal instincts that dominated me a few seconds ago immediately disappeared... and then only remorse.

I took a piece of paper that was within my reach and began to clean up the mess that I had caused myself. When I finished cleaning my little cock, I threw the ball of paper into the trash can that was saturated with balls identical to that one in a yellowish color. And they left a disgusting smell in my room.

I stood up, pulled up my pants and slowly walked towards the kitchen, avoiding looking at my fat old face on the relevant surfaces that were in my messy apartment. After doing this, I feel disgusting, but no matter how hard I try to stop thinking about my old life and in my old body.

-The swap syndrome…-

I said quietly trying to justify my depraved obsession with my old life, I had all the symptoms I had read on the internet:

“ Swap syndrome is a disorder characterized by a persistent and overwhelming obsession with a person's past life after experiencing a body swap with another. This syndrome manifests itself when two individuals involuntarily exchange their bodies thanks to the event known as “The great shift.”

People affected by SS experience intense longing and nostalgia for their previous life. They feel a deep disconnection from their new body and struggle to adapt to their new physical identity. Meanwhile, they constantly long to return to their old lives, including their relationships, daily routines, and everyday activities.

Symptoms of SS may include episodes of obsessional love, masturbation, anxiety, depression, and dissociation, as well as a decrease in social and occupational functioning. Affected people may manifest compulsive behaviors related to the search for ways to reverse the body exchange and recover their previous life.“

I've been trapped in the body of this overweight middle-aged man named Hiroshi for two years, and one day I just woke up in a room full of trash and on the other side of the world. It had been a few hours since all this had started So it was easy I searched what was happening on the internet I tried to contact my parents, but none of them responded to me even now I haven't seen my parents after so long, maybe they have They've gotten better bodies and now they're having fun. Or maybe they're in one of the many prisons trapped in the body of some convict, I don't know...

At least they can put me in contact with the Old Hiroshi who was now on the beach in Miami enjoying that new teenage body. At first, we wrote to each other every day, trying to go unnoticed among all the chaos of the world. I had to eat. So I decided. Not to tell anyone that he was actually a 16-year-old American teenager instead of a Japanese man my father's age.

The real Hiroshi helped me adjust to my new life, while I naively believed that this was something that would be resolved in a couple of days. But over time I got used to my new job in a restaurant as a dishwasher, I didn't understand the language very well. , but he didn't need it, the real Hiroshi was a quiet and submissive guy, Very different from what the real Hiroshi is like in his new life, as a popular teenager. That he spends his afternoons tanning on the beach and flirting with beautiful girls.

I used to talk to the real Hiroshi every day, but over time he took longer to respond to the messages, then to look at them and just not respond and over time he started ignoring my calls, now the only thing I know is because of the photographs I uploads to Instagram and social networks of my former friends, I didn't dare tell them the truth, that their former friend was now trapped in the body of a 45 year old obese loser…

I've been saving everything I can to be able to travel back to America and reunite with my old life. Although the salary as a dishwasher is shit, it's better than nothing, but once I'm in front of my old body I don't know if I can control myself... look down and a tiny bulge formed again in my pants from just being in front of my old body.

-Shit….-

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[its-your-mind]

This day is the hardest so far, because it is an entire eight-plus hours of just winding tunnel. It is a day of travel of that same ten-foot wide, continuous tunnel, and it is maddening. - c2e50

different types of people on a road trip.

[Image description: A gifset of the Mighty Nein walking through the tunnel in episode 50 of the second campaign.

Gif 1: Laura, as Jester, starts singing, “Sixty-six bottles of beer on the wall, sixty-six bottles of beer.” Marisha, as Beau, starts waving her hands and clapping to the beat, Travis leans into his hand, and Sam stares forward. All of them have deadpan expressions.

Gif 2: Everyone from the previous gif, with the same soulless expressions, sing, “Take one down, pass it around, sixty-five bottles of beer on the wall.”

Gif 3: Caleb stares forward and says, “It’s two o’clock.” Offscreen, Nott says, “Shut up.”

Gif 4: “It’s three o’clock,” Caleb says. “No,” replies Nott.

Gif 5: Fjord says, “If you’re gonna do those maybe put some chimes behind it?” Caleb later says, “Ding dong, ding dong. It’s four o’clock.”

Gif 6: Beau says, “Hey guys. I’m just saying. If we’re gonna be underground in a blank, boring, shithole tunnel for a whole ‘nother day...”

Gif 7: Beau rummages through her bag before looking back up at the rest of the group. “I still have these mushrooms left over from Mollymauk.”

Gif 8: Beau holds up her bag in offering. “Might just help make it fun!” she says with a hesitant grin.

Gif 9: Jester says, “Beau! You know what we could do.” Offscreen, Laura says “I hand her the smutty book,” and Marisha mimes receiving it, gasping and grinning when she sees what it is.

Gif 10: “Wait wait wait!” Jester says. She leans forward with a devious expression. “Read it out loud.”

Gif 11: “Okay!” says Beau with an equally devious expression before excitedly flipping the book open and leaning back to glance over the first pages.

Gif 12: Beau says, “It already starts good you guys.”

Gif 13: Beau reads, “It was a glistening night. The snow fell on the winding paths. She could feel her nipples...” She cuts off with a wide-eyed expression. “(all caps) It starts so soon (end all caps)”. End image description.]

[Plain text: This day is the hardest so far, because it is an entire eight-plus hours of just winding tunnel. It is a day of travel of that same ten-foot wide, continuous tunnel, and it is maddening. - c2e50. End plain text.]

[Image description: One last gif of Jester slowly craning her head back and groaning, “Twenty-one bottles of beer on the wall.” End image description.] (image description via @imber-florum)

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

into you

Summary: After almost giving up the hope to become a big actor you get offered the leading role in a period drama, leaving you to spend three months in Scotland with your male co star Dieter Bravo and maybe falling in love with him.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.247

Rating: T

Warnings: fluff, falling in love, implied smut, kissing, really cheesy movie lines I made up, confessions of feelings, reader is in her late thirties, Dieter playing the piano

A/N: Another one for  @undercoverpena April showers challenge! What's better than a Pedro character in period clothing in the rain? Making out with him hehe

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You couldn’t sleep. 

The moon was shining hrough the window of your hotel room, an old castle in the middle of nowhere somewhere in Scotland. 

You had come here almost three months ago, having gotten the first big job of your career, the lead role in a period drama. The first lead role you ever got. The first big job you ever got. 

For years you dreamed of being a big movie star. 

Much like every young person who came to LA. 

Which had been almost twenty years ago. You had been about to quit trying for that one big role that would finally grant your your big success last year. 

By now well in your thirties (the forties getting closer and closer), not having any major success apart from some multi episode secondary character on some netflix shows in the latest years, you gave up hope that you would make it. 

Sometimes the residuals you got from playing Chandler Bing’s awkward girlfriend for two episodes almost twenty years ago on friends had been the only way to pay your rent.

You were looking into going back to school when your agent called you, talking you into going to this last audition. It had been as a favour to them that you agreed, the contracts between you and the agency already canceled towards the end of the month. 

They had always believed in you and you hated saying no to them because of that reason. 

Maybe it was you having nothing to lose that left you going into the audition and blowing them all away. Not that you thought you did until your agent called you not even twenty minutes after you went out of the audition, asking you to come back to read opposite the male lead. 

Still you didn’t let yourself getting your hopes up, walking back into the office building, back into the room you had been in before, now with an additional face smiling warmly at you. 

You didn’t know that in the next two hours your whole life would change. 

Not just because they offered you the job. 

No, It was the day you met Dieter Bravo.

Of course you knew who Dieter Bravo was. 

You had admired him since he starred in the high school drama series you definitely did not tape every episode from when you were in your teens. 

And there had been no posters of him in your room growing up, nope. 

But like almost every teen crush, it faded over the years. 

You grew up, and he did too. You knew he had won an Oscar some years back, you saw the movie in the cinema back then. 

He had made headlines after that, naming him the next big thing. 

But lately the only headlines you remembered of him had been of his drug escapades and dating life. 

So you had been a little reserved when you first met, hoping he would be professional enough throughout the audition. 

Hope you shouldn’t have had, because Dieter had turned out to be professional in every single way.

Now, after spending almost two months with him, playing opposite of him, acting that you were in love with him, you found yourself wishing he would be a little less professional. 

Groaning you sat yourself up in your bed, clicking the lamp on the bedside table on, reaching for your phone. 

2:43 am. 

Taking a deep breath and releasing a long sigh as you exhaled you let your head fall back. 

In twenty four hours you would be on a plane back to the states, already on your way to shoot your next movie, your career seemingly finally starting off now that you were starring in a movie with Dieter Bravo. 

You should be beyond happy. 

Everything you dreamed off finally seemed to come true. You had three jobs lined up that would pay more than you had made in the last ten years combined. 

Yet the thought of waking up every morning and not getting to spend the day with Dieter made it all bittersweet. 

You had spent a lot of time together since getting to Scotland to shoot this movie. Not only on set, but apart from it too. He had been here before, shooting another movie and invited you out some times, showing you around. You had dinner together almost every night be it in an restaurant he wanted to show you or in the hotel. You got to know the man behind the persona you learned he put on for the public for and over the last weeks you had found yourself falling for him. 

Your fingers cam up to brush over your lips, the lips he had kissed. 

More than once. 

In front of the camera. 

But before you went to bed tonight, he walked you to your room and he had kissed you good night. Without cameras rolling. Without people around. Just you and him. His warm hand on your cheek, your back pushed against your hotel room door as he towered over you, his other hand resting on the door behind you. 

You were out of breath when he parted from your lips, wishing you a good night, leaving you watching after him with your lips parted, your brain still trying to process that he had just kissed you, as he went down the hallway until he disappeared into his room. 

You were too giddy to sleep, getting an old sweatshirt on before you grabbed your hotel key and walked out of your room, hoping he was as sleepless as you were and downstairs where you had found him often during your stay. 

You could hear the faint sound of a piano as you entered the lobby, the night manager giving you a small smile as you walked past, following the sound. 

In the far back corner of the lobby was a piano where you found Dieter playing a melody you did not recognise. 

You had found him here before, in the beginning when you could not sleep because you were too nervous to fuck this big chance you got up. 

He told you that his art supplies hadn’t been shipped yet, and that he usually painted when he couldn’t sleep.

And so instead he played. 

And you listened, sitting next to him until you both almost fell asleep, before he walked you to your room, only to be up some hours later to shoot a movie where his character denied to be in love with your character, pushing your character away until a big dramatic scene where you would finally admit your feelings to each other. 

Sitting down on the seat next to him as he played now, you let your head fall against his shoulder, hearing him inhale as he continued to play. 

His lips brushed against your temple and you closed your eyes, just listening to his song. 

When he finished you looked up at him, his eyes were already on you, an unreadable expression on his face. 

„Couldn’t sleep?“ he asked. 

You hummed in agreement. 

„Too many thoughts in my head,“ you whispered and he nodded. One of his arms came to wrap around your back, pulling you closer against his side. 

„You wanna talk about those thoughts?“ he asked and you chuckled. 

„Don’t wanna fuck the big scene up tomorrow, well today,“ you said and he gave you a small smile. 

„If someone is gonna fuck up it’s me. You make me keep forgetting my lines,“ he winked and you felt your cheeks growing warm, remembering the many occasions Dieter had seemingly spaced out during some scenes, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t place. 

„What do you mean?“ You asked, and he sucked his bottom lip in, before he shrugged and there it was again, that expression in his face, his eyes big as he looked at you. 

„I can’t stop looking at you. You’re so talented and beautiful and kind and so damn intelligent. Sexy….,“ he winked „You just blow me away and it’s like my brain stops working when I look at you sometimes. I never really felt like this before…“ he whispered and you blinked at him. 

„What I am trying to say is, I like spending time with you. I like talking to you. I like kissing you, touching you,“ he grinned and you huffed. 

„Especially when it’s just the two of us. Last week when the director called cut when we were in bed….“ He closed his eyes, shaking his head. 

You had rushed off after finishing the scene with him, having to take care of the ache between your legs in the bathroom after spending almost six hours in bed with him, shooting numerous sex scenes.

„I wish we had been alone,“ he whispered his face getting closer to yours, his lips brushing over yours. 

„Dieter,“ you whispered, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his lips pressing against yours and you shivered. 

„Yeah?“ He asked. 

„We are alone now,“ you whispered and he nodded, before he kissed you again, deeply. 

„Would you like to have sex with me?“ He whispered and your lips twitched into a grin which he mirrored before he kissed you again. 

„Take me to your room, Dieter,“ you said, giggling when you found yourself pulled in the direction of the elevators in the next moment. 

„This is madness,“ you shook your head, the rain coming down on you without mercy, drenching your many layers of clothes. 

„Why? Why is it madness that I have fallen for you?“ Dieter asked, in character, his white shirt clinging to his chest. 

You huffed a laugh, your character in denial about the feelings not only she had, but he had too. 

„Because we are both engaged. And not to each other. We have to end this. I have to….“ You shook your head, closing your eyes, before you looked up at him. Dieter having closed the distance between the two of you, but not close enough to touch. The raindrops where running down his nose, his hair clinging to his face. 

He looked like a wet dream straight out of a Jane Austen novel.

„All these times we spend in each others arms, they don’t mean anything to you?“ He asked. 

„It was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened,“ you said, Dieter’s character seeing right through your lie. 

„Do you love me?“ He asked and you did not have to play the small smile that sneaked to your lips for only a moment before you fought it down. 

„It doesn’t matter,“ you said, turning away from him, but his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you before you could go. 

„It matters to me. ,“ he whispered, broken, and the tone of his voice made you want to cry. 

The rain continued to fall as you gave the camera time to capture both of your faces. 

„Of course I love you,“ you finally said, looking at him over your shoulder. 

„Then stay,“ he pleaded. You began to shake your head, when he pulled you against his chest, one of his hands on your cheek, brushing your hair that stuck to your face to the side, his eyes gazing deeply into yours. 

„Stay and allow yourself to be happy,“ he said, almost begging. 

„Stay here and let me love you,“ he let his forehead fall against yours and your eyes dropped close, pictures of the night he had spend with you filling your mind, the way his forehead had rested against yours as he filled you over and over and…

You opened your eyes and Dieter’s lip twitched for a second, having caught your unintended pause.

„What about our families?“ you asked, „What about my sister? She’s in your house getting ready to marry you today,“ you asked. 

„They will understand. They have to. And if they don’t, I’ll take you away where we can live our life without the judgement of others. You’ll never have to worry for money.I love you, please be with me,“ his nose brushed against yours. 

You felt his other hand on your lower back and you gasped. 

„Then take me away,“ you whispered, feeling his smile against your lips as he finally kissed you, your arms wrapping around his broad back, fingertips brushing over his drenched clothes as he deepened the kiss. 

The first thing you realised when Dieter parted from your lips was that the rain had stopped and that it was quiet around you. Too quiet. 

Looking at Dieter he gave you a sheepish smile before you looked around, finding the crew around you looking at the both of you, Dieter’s PA holding two robes in his arms, giving you a wide smile. 

„You gonna listen when I call cut now?“ The director teased with a wide grin and you let your head fall against Dieter’s chest, mortified, but he just chuckled, before he helped you get into the robe his PA had brought over. 

„We’ll meet in an hour for the wedding scene, do not be late,“ the director reminded everyone, giving you and Dieter a longer look, and you nodded. Dieter grabbed your hand, and you looked at him. 

„Can’t wait to marry you,“ he winked and kissed you again, before you both were rushed off from the set to get ready. 

And you did actually get married. 

Seven months later.

On a beach. 

In the rain. 

Without any interruptions. 

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#42: The Fuel (1.04)

gif cred: @kimwexlersponytail

Even when everything crashes down around them, Richonne's love always prevails. 🥹

And now that they’ve recentered on what truly fuels them, Richonne then gets every type of fuel they need to finally go home. So we gotta close out this masterpiece of an episode with the breakdown of ep 4's final glorious moments. 👌🏽😇

The fact that we were really spoiled from literally minute one to the final seconds of Episode 4 - I have to thank Danai one million times for writing this thoughtful Richonne love letter episode and forever thank Andy & Danai for performing every part impeccably 🙏🏽💐...

After deciding to go home together in such a well-earned way—which, that's another thing - the fact that Danai didn’t even need an extended episode to convincingly craft an arc where Richonne could start off more at odds than they’ve ever been, and then not just beautifully, but also believably and organically, bring them back together by the end, leaving them feeling more bonded than ever before. She’s an illustrious talent. 🤩

So now Richonne is ready to head out because this building is on its last legs. And as they walk, Rick is finally out of the CRM gear and in casual apparel for the first time with Michonne. And I loved seeing that. The hold the CRM had on him is finally removed. 😌

The temp controller announces another malfunction and says the elevator only has ten minutes of reserve power left. Which hearing that...it’s wild Rick and Michonne still used that elevator…even tho I’m glad they did. 😏

As they make their way to the door, they stop for a moment and I love the way it’s filmed with us being able to see them between the panels. Rick gets his blade ready and then he looks at the real source of his strength Michonne.

And then you already know I absolutely adore that Rick leans in for them to share a kiss before they head out of this place. It’s the sweetest thing. 🥰And it immediately lets you know Richonne really is back.

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

That kiss is pure gold and highly ranked for me, y'all. Like as quick as this moment is, it’s still so special and romantic. I appreciate any and every reminder that Rick and Michonne are each other's baby and that kiss was definitely giving that.

Also, I just have to reiterate that Danai wrote such a quality episode of television. I love how at the top of the ep we see Michonne first exit the apartment alone and in pain, and then later Rick exits the apartment alone and panicked, and then at the end they show Richonne leaving the apartment together and healed because they’re finally operating like the honest unit they’re meant to be.

And again, it’s impressive how earned it all feels with Richonne starting the ep more at odds than ever and then truly being on one accord and one being again by the end of the hour.

It's sweet that as they’re about to re-enter the walker-infested world they want this reassuring and comforting moment of connection as this kiss just communicates that they’re in it together no matter what they face outside these walls.

Then he whispers ready and she nods and Rick opens the door for Michonne to go through first. Bye, Apartment 👋🏽, you were very very good to us, chile. But now it’s time for Richonne to go home. Won’t He do it. 🙌🏽

So then once they enter the hall they have one of my favorite action sequences. I love the way it's choreographed for them to be so in sync through this whole thing. This action sequence said let us remind you who are the two baddest to ever do it. 😌

gif cred: @kimwexlersponytail

I love the way it really is like they’re killing these walkers as one in the way they’re tag-teaming. Michonne steps out the hall first but then Rick is ready to get the first one and then they just take them down like only they can and it’s a great sight.

And Rick loves the sight of Richonne in action too the way he takes a moment to look at Michonne as they walk forward. I love that it's always clear Rick is invigorated by the fact that he and Michonne are a power couple. And again, the merging of the red and blue light as it comes together to make purple is great and gives TOWL a fresh different vibe than TWD. Seeing Richonne walk in the purple light just feels like they too have blended back into one again. 😌

gif cred: @nerd4music

And then that elevator...😏

Y’all, let me express some gratitude for this elevator right here. It gave us some absolute gold, honey. 😇

gif cred: @nerd4music

They approach the elevator and work together to get a walker out of the way. And then once they enter, Rick kicks the walker's arm, and Michonne, serving with her stance, realizes hey we have some time while this elevator goes down so naturally she looks over at Rick with that 'my man, my man, my man' look.

Then Michonne grabs the strap of Rick's backpack and pulls her into him and we can see him rushing into her just as the blood-stained elevator doors close. I love it. 😋 Look at frisky Michonne wanting a piece of her man right now lol. 🤭 Who can blame her?

gif cred: @msanonships

And when I first watched I thought that was gonna be it. Like they were just going to imply that they make out in the elevator. But no being a Richonne stan means being hella spoiled and so we actually get to see this all play out. 😊

They cut to Richonne making out inside the elevator and it’s just so good.❤️‍🔥 Also, it's funny how you’d never guess that Michonne was the one who initiated this the way Rick so quickly matches the energy and throws her against that wall. Rick can't quite be outhungered when it comes to Richonne kisses lol.

Like Michonne's always on the same page with that intense immense love but Rick's always going to be the more extra one by a little bit. Here for it. 😋

gif cred: @nerd4music

They were real into it in that elevator and had themselves another moanversation. I love that they are always on the same timing and both crazy enough to be so unconcerned with the fact that this building is about to come toppling down. Like they are just passionately present in this hot moment and it’s great. 👌🏽😋

Richonne are really and truly irresistible to each other and I love how their desire is always on display. And you can just tell Michonne loves Rick’s assertive affection as he practically consumes her and she slides her finger down his face. And as for Rick...he's addicted to his wife in the best way. 😊

gif cred: @kimwexlersponytail

Also, I always like seeing that “Failure is never an option” sign because I be needing that reminder in life and also it just feels like a thesis statement or something as to why Richonne is always able to win. When they refuse to fantasize about failing they always come out on top together. 👌🏽

So they manage to pull themselves off each other enough to run and kill more walkers and make it out of the building as they make a run for the vehicle. I remember in 2023 there were those set pics from this outdoor running moment and it felt so nice to now get to see what that all was from. Little did we know it was filmed for the greatest Richonne episode of all time. 🤩

gif cred: @nerd4music

With Richonne outside we continue to get insight into the destruction going on inside the apartment, including the death of the temp controller I believe. RIP, to the narrator of Richonne's ep 4 journey. 

And then Richonne make it to that yellow truck and let me tell you Richonne + cars is undefeated. 👌🏽 It’s always going to make for a golden moment and this one here of course is no exception. 😏

They run into the car and I adore the detail of Rick holding that book that Michonne said Judith would love. A whole FATHER. 😭🙌🏽 And this just goes to show that everything Michonne said to Rick when he had those walls up at the top of the ep was absolutely resonating with him even if he wasn’t fully letting on at first.

I mean, Rick always hangs on Michonne’s every word so of course everything she said stuck, especially about their children. (Also, it just hit me that that’s likely part of why Rick was thinking about getting a gift for RJ in the next episode since he knew they’re bringing the book as a gift for their daughter. 🥲)

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

So they get in the car but then Rick realizes there’s a slight complication as he tells Michonne it’s a “Stick shift.” I love the way Michonne looks at him and smiles when she realizes that means her little amputee cutie won't be able to drive this particular vehicle.

And y’all, since she has to drive that means Rick and Michonne have to switch seats. 😏 It's great how even a car being a stick shift can lead to Richonne gold, because this next moment is top tier. 🤩 Richonne stans, we ate good with TOWL, honey. 😇 Practically every second in this miniseries is rooted in Richonne’s romance. 🙌🏽

Also, I heard it was the episode's director Michael Slovis who had the idea for this next golden part, and I gotta take a moment to give Slovis his tens too. He did an outstanding job directing this Richonne love letter episode. 👏🏽💐

gif cred: @taiturner

So Rick and Michonne have to switch seats and they’re not gonna just get out of the car and do that - no, instead they attempt to just quickly climb over each other but, I’ve said it once I’ll say it 1000 times…Richonne are magnets. 🧲 So of course they couldn’t be that close to each other and not just start going to town again and making out. I love our hungry little couple that stays starving for each other. 😋

gif cred: @nat111love

When Michonne is on top of him you can see the determination on Rick’s face to turn this into something lol. And of course she’s on the same timing as they start making out. Like this building is really going to fall in mere seconds and they don’t give a damn. 🤭

They’re so happily distracted by their love and I’m here for it. They said that whole ‘love on each other as hard as we can while we can thing’ starts effective immediately. Also, only Richonne could make switching seats hot lol. 🔥

gif cred: @taiturner

Then it’s sweet to see the Roomba still going til it can’t go anymore. It’s resilient like Richonne. 

Also, it was really smart to put a sort of timer in the episode, and a high stakes timer at that, with the fact that the ep took place in a building on the verge of collapse. It's symbolic of how Richonne had to come the closest they’ve ever come to wondering if perhaps their relationship is on the verge of collapse as well. But of course like the Roomba that just won’t quit, they emerge from the building together and stronger. Richonne isn't the building, they’re the Roomba.

gif cred: @worldbeyondz

And then y’all. Y’ALL. You already know what I’m about to address. It is now wonderfully canon to know 🗣 MICHONNE CALLS RICK 'BABY.'

gif cred: @nat111love

I know I was previously in the camp that heard Michonne call Rick 'baby' earlier in the bedroom scene but that one I didn't hear on my first watch. This 'baby' right here in this blessed yellow truck tho - undeniably clear. And so great. 🤩

They cut to the two still making out like it’s the only thing on the agenda, but then Michonne knows that it actually is coming down to the wire with the building about to fall. So she whispers to Rick, “Baby, I gotta drive.” 🫠🤩🫠🤩🫠🤩

From “You want to drive?” to “Baby, I gotta drive.” What a journey. 😭🎁

I didn’t know how much I needed to hear Michonne call Rick 'baby' but when I heard it I was like oh I’ve needed to hear this all my life lol.

So y’all, can I happy dance one time? Because hearing Michonne call Rick 'baby' makes me ridiculously happy. 😋

Now whenever I see any pre-canon TWD moments between Rick and Michonne I just stop and think wow one day she’ll call that man her baby. 😭 Like that’ll just be their norm because the way she says it and the way he responds, it’s clear he’s used to that. It’s so sweet and fitting. 🥰

I know we often like to wonder about Richonne pet names and I think it’s so cute that she calls Rick baby because really that is her baby. When I first heard this, y'all, I rewound it so much to make sure I didn't just imagine it lol. It was perfect. 😇

(Also since this kissing moment wasn't scripted and it was something Slovis suggested they do while filming, I'm assuming that would mean the 'baby, i gotta drive' was improvised as well. If so, I love that these talented creatives know just what to do and say with these characters 🙌🏽😊)

And I love that Michonne has to remind him that she has to drive because if she didn’t Rick would have been down to make RJ #2 up in that car. Like he’s lost in her yet again while their making out and of course, the moaning has returned. The man can’t help it. 😊

This whole lovely kissing moment further proves that for Rick the world can wait when he’s with Michonne. And the way Michonne says the line you can tell that the only reason she’s stopping is cuz they literally need to go. If they didn’t have to book it out of here right now…she’d be down for whatever too. You already know. 😋

gif cred: @worldbeyondz

I love how Richonne’s favorite thing is kissing each other breathlessly and how they prove time and time again that the magnet thing might as well be literal. Also, the fact that they kiss during every phase of this exit - at the apartment door, in the elevator, and in the car. Real lovers are back. 😍

And they are never beating the adrenaline kink allegations, y’all. But I love how they, like us, are very cognizant of the fact that Richonne in fight mode is a sexy thing. 

And then I love that after she tells him 'Baby I gotta drive' they both laugh a little knowing how easily they get caught up. And then Rick is so refreshingly looser and more himself as he says, “Right. They made a stick shift electric car” and then he looks back and sees they left tanks of ethanol in the backseat.

gif cred: @taiturner

Let me repeat - The universe is a Richonner. 😋 The second Richonne got it together the universe was like here we’ll provide the fuel (and the food 🍜😉) and all the logistics.

I love how they both get excited learning the car is a hybrid. It reminds me when they were excited about those MREs in Say Yes. 

So then Michonne notes how they have to thank the innovators for the hybrid and how those people clearly thought they could do anything and Rick says, “Yep but we can. ‘We can make this whole world ours if we want to.’” Do you know how much of a loverboy you have to be to quote your wife’s words from a DREAM? 🫠 Most swoon-worthy thing ever and I’m so here for it. 🙌🏽

gif cred: @machonnes

I love that Rick is back to believing in Richonne. 🥰 Also I always laugh when I think back to when I first watched this because I remember just being like 'Aw he’s quoting her from the proposal dream ☺️' and then I gasped and was like 'oh that is a clear sign that he’s going to give her a ring in TOWL 🫢.' Like Rick quoting Dream Michonne in this car made me know for sure a wedding ring was coming cuz he's thinking about that particular '5 Pizzas & a Wedding Ring' dream. 👌🏽

I love seeing playful Rick again and Michonne brings that out of him so often and so naturally. And Michonne’s reaction is great when she looks at him like 'I agree but also...what??' I love that she affirms it tho saying, “Yes we can. That sounds like something I’d say.”

gif cred: @machonnes

And then Rick all contently says, “It is.” Y'all, i'm crying. 🥹 What a touching, lighthearted, and meaningful way to close out this episode's dialogue. 👏🏽

I love that Michonne knows she’d say that phrase and that Rick knows it full well too. He’s like baby, my dreams of you are extremely accurate, trust me. And the way he studies that woman of course they are. 😊

It’s just so special that those dreams at one point were all Rick really had of her and now here he gets to refer to them with the woman herself after she’s loved him back to life.

gif cred: @taiturner

As they get the car going there’s a little jump scare when a walker hits Rick’s window, and seeing them both jump and then be like okay let’s go - if they got any cuter my heart would not be able to take it lol. And the fact that Andy improvised that jumpscare reaction. Love it.

Rick and Michonne were just so back. Like they’re back to being the Richonne that’s playful, and flirty, and fully connected. A clear weight has been lifted off them and they're so in tune with each other again and it fills my heart with joy. 🥰

They drive and then it feels very poetic to see the building finally fall. I love the way Danai described the building as a cocoon that would determine if Richonne really can come out butterflies. And they soared out beautifully. 😭🦋

It also feels very symbolic of the way the walls Richonne had up around their hearts at the start of the episode have also officially fallen as they're back to being one in every way.

So having served its purpose of helping Richonne reconnect and bloom, the building could now come down. It’s almost like all the hard things they expressed and went through get to tumble down with the building as they head into a brighter horizon.

gif cred: @perryabbott

Having made it out just in time, Michonne watches the building fall from the rearview mirror and just smiles knowing she and Rick are finally back on track and on their way home like she's long been wanting.

gif cred: @machonnes

Then as Michonne smiles she has this loving look over to Rick and of course he’s already looking her way. 🥰 I love how his look over at her was such a loud and clear 'I love you.'

You just know that as he looks at her he knows he’s gonna be getting down on one knee with a ring the second he has a chance.

gif cred: @machonnes

And then the way he looks down with a smile. 😭 At this moment I really think ‘I’m so in love with her’ is the direct quote from his mind. That and “How’d I get so lucky finding you again.” 

gif cred: @machonnes

And Michonne can feel the love as she has her own 'I love you' smile at Rick and looks forward. That's the smile of a woman who knows good things can happen when you and your husband take a plunge out of a helicopter. 👌🏽

That’s also the smile of a writer who just knocked it all the way out of the park writing this brilliant episode. 🔥👏🏽

gif cred: @machonnes

And a surefire way to make me happy is to see Richonne happy, so I absolutely adore that this stunning episode ends with Richonne’s smiles. They’re together. They’re happy. They’re in love. All is well. 😌

As they drive off, I adore the Asibe Happy song they use. I love that it feels like a homage to Danai to have it be music from the motherland. And just the lyrics are so fitting saying We're happy/We're in love/They tried to come between us but they failed. The vibe is so different from TWD in a really cool way and it’s just a great choice. 👌🏽

It’s funny tho because my extra self had this song stuck in my head for a few days after the episode aired and despite it having a positive vibe I could not stop getting choked up when hearing it. 🥲 Like now for me the song represents Richonne overcoming and driving off into the sunset and it’s so beautiful and feels so much like a happily ever after ending that the music was constantly making me want to shed tears. 

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

But while it could have easily felt like this was the end of the story and Richonne was driving off into the sunset for good as this masterful episode faded to black…we still weren’t done yet. 😌

TOWL still had two more episodes of Richonne gold to give us with some very wonderful developments in their relationship. 👌🏽

But before we head into the final two episodes of TOWL, let me just conclude the 'What We' posts by saying Wow. This is how you do a moving, meaningful, and masterful episode of television.

What Danai so thoughtfully created with this episode exceeded expectations and truly shined the brightest light on why Richonne is so very special. Why it’s my Roman Empire. Why it’s my favorite depiction of love of all time. 😍

Never have I written so much about one TV episode, but I knew I’d have to go all out for Episode 4 because it’s what this important experience deserves. Every emotion, every scene, every choice, was pure excellence. 👏🏽

Andy and Danai have some of their greatest performances ever and I love that this episode was so packed with riveting dialogue and so focused solely on the two fascinating characters of Rick and Michonne and their extremely compelling relationship. It really gave Andy and Danai the space to again solidify why they're the best in the business and why Richonne is the greatest TV couple of all. 👑

I’m so grateful to them for giving their all as the people who bring Richonne to life and to Danai for writing something so inspiring and exceptional. 🔥

I’ll thank her 1000 times for lovingly and diligently crafting a Richonne episode that is food for the soul and delves into love, pain, trauma, and triumph with such honesty, creativity, and care.

This franchise and fandom are so fortunate to have such an astronomically gifted actress and writer share her gifts this way. 💯

Episode 4 was immensely heartfelt, hot, humurous, healing and profoundly human. It'll stick with me forever. It's embedded in my heart and I wouldn’t have it any other way.🥹

It's not every day you get to see your favorite thing reach its peak of perfection but that's what this episode was for me - capturing the mesmerizing depth and beauty of Richonne at its absolute best. So I'll cherish this shining treasure of an episode always.👌🏽😌

[kanmom51]

A little math in the morning

You know how it is when you're at work and you don't really feel like being at work cause all you are thinking of is Jikook (obsessed much? Oh, most definitely!!)?

This is one of those mornings.

And I figured, if I'm going down this rabbit hole, well, why not ask you to join?

And who doesn't love to do some math in the morning, right?

So yeah, math.

But wait a sec.

This math is the good kind.

The kind that tells us just how much Jikook we'll be getting.

The kind that makes us realize that we are going to be getting more Jikook than we have ever had before. More interactions. Longer moments. Like a full on show.

But just how much of it? Well, this is where the math comes in.

Now that the intro and explanations are done, let's get going:

We talked about the meaning of the 8's in my previous post, so I will forgo that in this one.

What I will be doing here is a little counting. You know. To put things into perspective. Because I feel like sometimes we lose that.

8 episodes of Jikook bliss is what we will be getting.

A show that will most likely be 20 to 25 minutes long. This is a starting assumption. I will be grateful for this, and every single minute added to that will be a blessing.

But if we take 20-25 minute episodes, that will give us:

20*8=160

to

25*8=200

Between 160 to 200 minutes.

And even if we cut out 10% of that as whatever (intro, outro, anything that doesn't have them in it), we will get:

144 to 180 minutes of Jikook.

Do you get that?

Do you register that?

A minimum of: 144 minutes.

That is over 2 hours of Jikook!!!!!

I don't think we can even imagine what that means.

We, who have been living on little few seconds to couple of minute increments of those two. The longest interaction we got was the live they did back in 2020 and that was them being totally vigilant and aware of the live camera (and yet...).

As much as the editing will probably be brutal, cause put those two together and more so add some alcohol into the bidding (we know there was alcohol) and you will get wild wild Jikookery that may end with bed nets being torn to pieces. But as brutal as it may be and as much as they might want to water it down (which I'm kind of wondering if they even are wanting to do this at this point - long train of thoughts going on here in that matter), you just can't do that with over 2 hours of exclusively Jikook content.

You just can't.

Boy, we are going to be rolling in it. This is going to sustain us for years to come. RB left behind. Hickey forgotten. TTU - what's that even? 'Are you sure' is going to be IT. That reference point. Can you even process it? I'm still trying to.

You don't need to have them making out on camera to recognize a certain type of dynamic. Just saying.

8 EPISODES

144 minutes

MINIMUM!!!!!

Over 2 hours!!!

AT MINIMUM!!!!

Of Jikook just having pure fun.

With each other.

TOGETHER

ALONE

JUST THE 2 OF THEM

Swallow that HATERS!!!!

Or just choke on it. Who cares? I don't.

Happy dance incoming.

[palajae]

episode two. | park jay

PAIRING ▸ host!jay x reader

GENRE ▸ ouran high school host club!au, high school! au, romance, fluff, angst, humor

WC ▸ 4.2k

SUMMARY ▸ host park jay: the cool and calculated type. as the vice president and brain of the en-host club, jay is more than quick and entertaining. you’ll never get bored with all the things he does and says—if you ever get the chance to meet him.

AKA episode two of the kiss, kiss, fall in love! series

AN/NOTES ▸ mentions of food?? toxic family issues (specifically daddy issues), not proofread

sorry for the wait but here is the second part! <3 also i swear i love jay and his father this was just for the plot okay don’t come for me 😭🙏

EPISODE 2. The Job of the Class Top Student! 

you get up, making sure to push the chair back with a loud screech so that everyone could hear. you feel the eyes boring holes into your back. if anyone looked closely, they would notice how your eyes flickered across the room. searching—checking. 

but no one was, most were still on the first page of the exam and had six more pages to go. 

you keep a straight and composed face as you walk up to the teacher’s desk, inaudible whispers and shocked stares going in one ear and out the other. 

after all, who finishes the midterm with 50 minutes left? 

you don’t falter, you don’t let your mask slip. however that rule is excused when it comes to one person. your eyes fall on his hunched over silhouette, smirking just the slightest as he flips to the last page of the exam. 

you and park jay. park jay and you. the class’s designated number one and two ranked students. who was which was yet to be confirmed. 

everyone wondered who would end up on top. there must’ve been a rivalry, a game, a secret enemies to lovers? 

to you, it was anything but that. 

it was an offense—being compared to park jay. sure, he was brilliant. you could at least admit that. 

but he was also a member of the en-host club. the vice president, at that. 

you shivered in disgust the first time you found out that he co-founded the club along with lee heeseung. you would expect no less of him, but jay, seriously? 

what would his father think? 

you had no time for trivial stuff like acting as a host and pleasing those who weren’t worthy of your company. 

he wasted hours every day, every week, at and for that club. 

you didn’t understand. 

why was jay pretending to be someone he wasn’t? 

every time someone would mention his name, you would snort and turn your head to the side. 

“that player? don’t count yourself special or lucky. he just wants attention from anyone he can get it from.” 

you vowed to beat him. how could you ever lose to the host, park jay? 

“how are you, mr. park?”

you bow gracefully, a practiced smile plastered on your face. 

you hated it—how jay was a splitting image of his father. you hated any and every reminder of him. 

and just like the two of you, your families were rivals. they had to have been, after all they both competed in the same industries and markets. 

it was only natural that jay’s father took a liking to you. the one who was as gifted as his son, if not better. 

the one who was diligent, compliant, and charismatic. you were the one raised properly. you didn’t make rash decisions that wasted your time and future. 

“good. i heard my son has been troubling you recently. in physics, was it?”

your smile tightens. “of course not, sir. i’m not sure if jay told you, but we recently received a group presentation. he got paired with the kang family’s son.”

when jay got put with the kid who barely paid attention in class, let alone showed up to class, you couldn’t hide your triumphant smile. 

he pats you on the back, “of course. you know i just say that as a joke.”

you pretend to laugh it off, bowing again before excusing yourself to the bathroom and taking your leave. 

when you reach the mirror, you stare at yourself. you looked aggravated, confused, lost. because you were. all because you knew what mr. park was implying. he thought the same as you—it’s why the two of you grew close.

were you really going to let mr. park’s son overtake you in a class? 

while you spent most of your time studying and working, his failure of a son who spent his time messing around had the same grades as you, if not better?

he was challenging you and your future. 

you despised park jay. 

gasps and whispers of awe fill the room. you stand near the back, face unreadable. 

chapter 9 test scores: 

park jay - 99 

y/l/n y/n - 96

…..

yujin nudges your shoulder with a concerned look. “are you okay? i know you spent four hours cramming for that test…”

you don’t say anything and stalk off. 

your room gets the brunt force of your emotions. you rip, crumple up, and trash your notes. your binders and notebooks go flying as you shove and fling them onto the ground with as much strength as you can. 

it was a mess. you were a mess.

how did he do better than you? you know for a fact he didn’t study as much as you did. he didn’t waste hours and hours reviewing the material and practicing. how did he do it?

there must be a reason, you resolve. something must be going on in that host club. 

you vow to figure the truth about jay. 

“what do you think he does there? seduce the girls into giving him answers?”

ningning laughs, “don’t be ridiculous.”

she pauses, “unless…?”

you huff, rolling your eyes. “i need to find out. this isn’t right.”

“you really don’t. you know you’re kinda—what’s the word? obsessed.”

“with jay,” she adds, “do you like him or something?”

you point a finger harshly, accusatorily, at ningning. 

“you know how i feel. my mother and father won’t be pleased. let’s not forget about his father.”

she only laughs, reaching out to put down your hand as you groan in frustration. 

“you sound like draco malfoy, you’re so funny. but go ahead with your plan, i’m not stopping you.”

you rub your temples in frustration. “am i about to make a mistake? is this a bad idea?”

ningning only shakes her head like a parent chiding their kid, “oh, y/n. you know you don’t ever have bad ideas or make mistakes.”

anyways, she was wrong. 

the moment you walked—more like burst—into the en-host club, all eyes were on you. 

you were used to it, but not like this. not like everyone was seeing a ghost. your eyes flit around the room, studying the infamous place. the host club was surprisingly spacious and intricate. you supposed it wasn’t that bad of an area. 

“y/n,” heeseung is the first to greet you and extend out his hand. you almost glare at it. 

“certainly did not expect to see you here. a pleasant surprise nonetheless,” he adds after flinching at your icy gaze. heeseung was the one to turn jay—disillusion him and make your life that much more difficult. 

“have the rumors finally piqued your curiosity? who exactly-“

you hold out a hand to cut him off, “save it. i’m only here to speak to jay.” 

saying his name out left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. more whispers break out and you grit your teeth. 

heeseung’s eyes widen as jake appears with a grin. great, now you were starting to attract even more attention. 

“so you finally succumbed, huh?”

your eyes narrow. 

“to what, exactly?”

“you know, for being one of the brightest students in our grade, you can be quite dense sometimes.”

“and for being one of the most popular students in our grade, you can be quite pitiful sometimes, did you know that?”

“y/n.”

you bite back your next words at the appearance of the person of your request. jay sends a look to the other hosts, and they leave you two alone reluctantly. 

“what do you want?”

at first, you don’t say anything. 

when you don’t respond, his gaze hardens. “did my father send you?”

you ignore him. “i’m here to observe the club. and you.” 

you hold eye contact until jay finally breaks it and sighs, “fine. i could care less.” 

to your surprise, jay doesn’t say anything else. and in your awkwardness, you realize you have no choice but to follow him around or stand there like a loser. and you were anything but a loser. 

you didn’t know how this whole club thing really worked, anyway. 

you check the clock. how long would this take? how much time of yours would be wasted?

you can’t believe it. the fact that you wasted two hours or that jay was busily working, you’re not sure. probably both. 

all he did was sit down at one of the tables with his laptop. no words were exchanged when you sat stiffly across from him. it’s still a bit uncomfortable, being in this place with no purpose or goal other than to spy on jay (not to forget the girls absolutely shellshocked at your presence in the club.) 

he typed quite fast, you note by the sound of the keys clicking harshly. jay looked focused, significantly more than when he took chemistry quizzes. 

you attempt to sneakily glance at his screen. eventually, you get a crick in your neck and you sigh. 

“what are you doing?”

“running the statistics for the club’s activities this week,” he responds curtly. 

after about an hour, you frown. where were all the girls? where was his cheesy flirting and hosting that they all supposedly did?

there’s no way he was actually just that busy working?  

you walk off without another word. 

“it doesn’t make any sense,” you furiously chew your salad, “i need to go back.”

“really?” ningning replies with an edge in her voice. 

you slam your fork down. “i-i mean, he stays there until five! that means he doesn’t arrive home for another thirty minutes and that reduces his study time to around five to six hours, considering dinner and washing up. then i have to take into account the fact that his bedtime must be around twelve since he has nonexistent eye bags—“

ningning stuffs a tomato into your mouth. 

“if this isn’t obsessed, i don’t know what is.”

you glare at her as you chew. “is not. being obsessed means you have to have interest in the person or subject.” 

ningning mutters something under her breath. 

somehow, your eyes fall on jay sitting with his host club friends. his arms are relaxed behind his head, as if he was purposely flaunting off to everyone in the room. you want to slap the tinted glasses he wore, you could barely see his eyes. you never knew what he was thinking. 

you curse jay internally. 

ningning gets up. “anyways, i’ll see you in calculus later.”

you come to your senses again, nodding at her. “let me know if you need any more help on the problem set.”

she grins, patting your head. 

“thanks, good luck getting his attention.” 

“whose?” you call out but she’s already gone, leaving you to ponder your own thoughts. 

the sound of silverware scraping the plates makes you cringe. besides that, there was complete silence in the dining hall. 

you knew what was coming. 

“i heard jay scored the highest on the last physics exam.” 

you look down. “yes, father.”

you were used to it. 

“how long did you prepare for it? i thought i raised you properly,” his cold voice never failed to put a shiver down your spine. 

“i’m sorry. i’ll do better next time…” you barely manage to get out. 

you pray he’s finished. 

“i heard he barely studied. spends all his time at that horrid club, yet he scored better. interesting.”

you wipe your mouth before standing up. “i’m going to finish my homework. i promise i’ll work harder, father.”

you leave the table with clenched fists. every freaking time. 

you want to punch the wall, scream and kick. it wasn’t fair. you gave your all to make your parents proud, and it was never enough. when would you be enough for them? 

you told yourself every time, that you weren’t affected. it didn’t matter.

yet it still hurt. 

you’re on autopilot the entire day at school. you’re in and out, brain fuzzy. indeed, those were the consequences of a sleepless, turning and tossing kind of night.

“-y/n?” 

you swear, it was so bad you could literally hear your parent’s disappointed voices in your ear. 

“y/n!”

you jolt up in your seat, accidentally knocking a pencil off your desk. your professor eyes you along with the rest of your classmates. along with jay. 

it wasn’t like you to zone out. 

“i’m sorry,” you stammer. “could you repeat the question?”

“i didn’t ask a question,” they raise an eyebrow, making you look down in embarrassment. 

“are you alright? do you need to go to the nurse?”

you decline and apologize hastily, straightening your posture and grabbing your pencil off the floor. your teacher resumes their lecture and you hate how you can still feel jay’s eyes linger on you. 

when class is dismissed, you’re packing up your last notes when you feel eyes on you, once again. it was just you two left in the room.

you already know who it is.

“that wasn’t like you.”

“i know. i don’t need your fake concern,” you spit out. 

his eyes widen as you stand up and shove past him. 

“hey-“

you stop in your tracks, turning around to face jay—the root of all your issues. 

“are you happy now? seeing me like this? you embarrassed me, you won. there’s no need to pretend you care when it’s obvious you don’t. can you even?” 

he isn’t able to get in a single word in as you stalk out. 

by the end of your last class, you hate to admit it, but you’re actually regretting your words. you constantly replay that last moment in class, when you actually saw an ounce of emotion on jay’s otherwise stoic face. when it actually seemed like he got hurt by your words. it couldn’t be, though. 

jay didn’t show his emotion. he didn’t care, unlike you. no matter how much his father compared the two of you, jay did what he wanted and he did it well. 

while you hated to see that you were the weak—the jealous one.  

you didn’t mean to take your anger out on him—you knew jay would never intentionally beat you. 

you would. you were the one who needed the validation, and therefore, you had to do your best. you had to be the best in order to beat jay. and yet, you find yourself in another moment of weakness. 

standing in front of the music room, you sigh. here you were once again. when you walk in, you head straight for heeseung.

he’s sitting rather comfortably, cozying up to two random students you’ve never seen before. 

when you clear your throat, heeseung sits up as his eyes widen at the sight of you. “y/n?” 

“i need to speak with jay,” you can’t seem to look him in the eyes. 

“again?” he smirks. 

you exhale slowly, trying your best to keep your cool. “please. it’s urgent.” 

and suddenly, you’re standing in front of him. your hands clasped together, eyes downcast. 

at first, no words are exchanged. you know jay—he won’t be the first to say anything. it takes a minute for you to collect your thoughts. to finally let it sink in that you were here, in this situation, in front of him. 

“i… i didnt mean what i said.” 

“earlier,” you quickly add.

you take a quick glance, only to see the same emotionless expression he always wore. 

“alright.”

you swallow. he stands there. 

jay proceeds to push his glasses further up his nosebridge , “if that’s all, then, i’m a bit busy.”

“r-right. yeah.” 

your eyes follow his back as he begins to walk off. 

“wait! wait.” 

he slows, but doesn’t turn around. 

you scrunch your face up, cringing. “can i-just like, stay? for a moment?”

jay being jay only shrugs. 

and for the second time, you find yourself sitting across from jay. again, he’s simply typing away on his computer. 

no flirting or messing around with the guests. 

your curious eyes wander around the giant room. if you weren’t in the position you were in, born into, maybe you would’ve come here. 

your eyes fall back on jay. maybe you would’ve requested him. his looks weren’t that bad, and when he wasn’t talking school-

you clap a hand over your mouth, horrified at the thought. jay looks at you from over his screen, but his fingers never stop moving. 

you shake your head, as if to physically remove the thought from your head. 

“so… uh, what are you doing?”

“club work. finances, promotion, sponsors. basically everything behind the scenes.”

your eyes squint, “then how are you the vice president?”

he sighs as if he’s used to the question, “beats me.”

“then, you’re not a host? every time i’ve been here, you haven’t done anything host-like.”

“the two times you’ve been here,” he corrects and you roll your eyes. 

“it’s because you’re here.”

“what?”

“you scare off my usual clients, so i cannot host,” he states as a matter of factly. 

your mouth forms a “o,” but you soon cock your head at him. 

“why would i scare off your clients, though?”

his cold eyes glint up at you. “i think that’s a question to ask yourself.”

you stifle a groan. 

“either way, i don’t have many requests since i’m usually busy keeping the club alive.”

you knew it wasn’t true. there were plenty of girls who whispered about him in the halls and glared at you. not that they would ever do anything—you knew they were rightfully scared of you. 

“you’re saying that you’re not popular then.”

“if that’s what you want to think, then sure.”

“and yet, i’m here.” you cough awkwardly. 

“but you are not here for the same reasons,” 

jay stops typing abruptly. he looks at you, and you start spluttering at his implication. 

“there is no way i would ever waste my time here to-for you-“

“yet you’re still sitting right in front of me,” he smirks, “you said what you had to say earlier, no?” 

curse him for being your one weakness. there was no one who could beat you in an argument except park jay. he was so infuriating. 

you slam your hands on the table, “yes. thank you so much for the reminder. but don’t you dare think i’ll go easy on you after today.”

you turn your nose up before leaving. you hated how he always got your heart rate up, palms sweaty and knees weak. jay always riled you up, it was just because of how infuriating he was.

that was the only reason, right?

ningning smoothly slides into the seat next to you, “i heard you went back to the host club?”

your eyes widen. 

“just admit it, you like jay. you realized all the feelings you felt about him were actually, in fact, for him. no need to be embarrassed, everyone else already knows,” she teases. 

you choke but attempt to cover it up with a small ahem, straightening your back. 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. i only went there because of my curiosity. you know the saying: keep your friends close and enemies closer? yeah, i’m just sizing up my opponent.” 

she sighs, patting you on the head. 

“it’s alright to spend time with jay, you know. you and your families have known each other for a while. plus, you guys are literally the same person—just in different bodies.” 

although she didn’t mean it in that way, you begin to realize she’s right. 

you and jay are a lot more alike than you realize. same overbearing parents putting immense amounts of pressure on the two of you. if anything, you should have been friends—not enemies. 

who were you trying to protect yourself against? jay?

or your families who caused this whole mess in the first place? 

you suddenly get out of your chair, leaving ningning to stare at you. 

“where are you going? study hall isn’t over for another hour!”

“i…i have to go somewhere.” 

“and skip studying? what has possessed you, y/n?” she says incredulously. 

as you run off, you silently agree with her.

your feet lead the way, automatically taking you to the place you need to be without even realizing it. 

you open the doors rather harshly, stomping over to the familiar table. you already knew he would be here. he always was here if he wasn’t in class. 

jay sits there, and to your surprise, he’s strict and gazing out the large tinted glass windows. as you approach him, he pushes the bridge of his glasses up, looking at you with inquisitive eyes.

“how do you do it?”

he blinks at the question. 

“pardon?”

“how? how do you not care?” you almost demand him to answer, feeling all the pent up frustrations bubble up to the surface.  

“about your family, your duty, about everything!?”

you’re almost panting, glaring at him with glassy eyes. you needed to know. 

“it just doesn’t make sense. we’re in the same boat, yet you don’t care and you don’t seem affected. after everything that has happened, how can you feel so normal? how can you pretend like everything’s going to be okay?” your voice cracks.

to your surprise, jay sighs. he quietly gets up and looks up at you. clearly, like it’s the first time you’ve ever looked in his eyes. they draw you in, an endless void of darkness. 

you can finally feel the tension in the air. you finally notice that the two of you are alone. 

“if anything, i used to care more than you. i was worse off than you. it wasn’t always easy. it still isn’t.” 

you cross your arms. 

“you’re not lonely? stressed? is that why you decided to join the host club?” 

“i just decided to. i decided that i won’t let them dictate all parts my life. i chose to do this along with heeseung. he showed me a different world, a new path to life. not everything has to be for your own future benefit and success.” 

you look down. the sight of your own clenched fists surprises you. 

you know jay. you’ve known jay, for a long time. you’ve seen how he used to be. what an arrogant and selfish know-it-all he was. then, he changed. he became a host and suddenly, he was having fun with friends and doing everything he could for the club and them. 

but, you were in different positions. he fought back against his parents for his life, while you couldn’t even imagine coming close. why did you think you could come to him? 

“then… we’re not as similar as i thought we were. nevermind any of it.”

as you turn away, jay speaks up again. 

“you think you’re selfish. spoiled and special, perhaps.” 

you stop. 

“but you give tutoring to those who need it. and it’s not just for your reputation and the hours because you do it outside of school. you’re friends with ningning but she’s the second daughter, set to inherit nothing. you secretly give your packed lunch to the one person in our class who can’t always afford it.”

you quietly gasp. 

“i know. because you’re just like me.” 

you stand there, silently debating before walking out.

there were too many emotions. how did he know? how long has he known—noticed all those things about you? 

worst of all, it feels like you’ve reached a deeper level, a mutual understanding, in your relationship with park jay. 

whatever relationship you both even had. 

people are more than shocked to see the sight in front of them. this type of news—gossip—would reach the headmaster in a day or two. but those fan girls filled with jealousy would never do anything about it in fear of getting on your or jay’s bad side. 

park jay, helping y/n organize notes before class? 

y/n y/l/n, showing up to the host club on a weekly basis to sit with jay? 

and if your parents had anything to say, you turned the other way and pretended not to have heard. 

no one understood, like there was a silent understanding between just the two of you. 

jay scoots over, almost as if he was saving you the seat. almost like the seat was yours, it always had belonged to you. your heart warms at the thought. 

“our families are having another dinner.”

“i know. probably to discuss our futures, don’t you think?” 

you hum, passing him a honey citron drink and he gratefully accepts it without a word. for a minute you both enjoy the drinks in peace.

“maybe. probably. your mother was the one to invite us over, you tell me.” 

“i suspect to talk about the latest business affairs. then our grades.”

“oh goodness me,” you sigh and jay can’t help but genuinely smile. you liked the fact that you were one of the only people who could do that.  

“at least i’ll have you—or we’ll have each other,” he remarks rather normally, but the fidgeting of his hands with his pen tells you otherwise. 

you glance up at him, face warming slightly. he was right, though. it was a hard fact to get adjusted to. you did have someone else now. 

of all people, jay. he was the person you least expected, and yet… the only person you knew it could be. 

and maybe, you guys could heal together. you scoot your chair a bit closer to his, leaning to look at his screen. he doesn’t seem to mind at all. 

you knew you could and would heal together. 

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[lennadanvers]

Good girl

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

A couple of warnings: this does not contain smut. It's more of a hurt-comfort fic. (With a little bit of angst, I guess.) And it is self indulgent.

To all my oldest daughters/sisters, to anyone who has learned that everything and everyone else comes first (before you). To all the perfectionists, the hard workers. To those who haven't found home yet. You deserve to get what you give. You deserve to give less than all you've got. To the girls who were called perfect so much that it feels degrading now. You're not perfect. You're human. You can breathe and make mistakes. You're not different from anyone else. Take up space. Make mistakes. Be selfish. Be ugly. Love isn't earned, it is given.

“You don’t have to be good.”

You flinch and he wants to die.

Simon didn’t mean to say it. He doesn’t even mean it. Not like that. It’s just that it has been cooking for so long that it came out without his permission. Stupid bloody mouth.

He knows you hate that word. Good. Such an awful concept. As much as it is an impossibility to him- a thing like God or normal- it is a curse to you. Goodie two shoes, is what you hear. Little miss perfect. An iron ball at the end of the chain around your neck.

He knows.

He sees it when he gets home a couple hours after you, and- even before he’s taken off his shoes- you’re telling him what you got done around the house. It’s second nature. He hates it.

Hates it when you wash the dishes even though it’s late. Hates when you do everything for yourself. When you cook, make tea, clean. Simon has never ever had the chance to clean up your mess. You never leave a mess. Always tidy, always clean, always everything in its place.

It’s not like he doesn’t do his part. Simon does just as much as you do around the house. He vacuums, does laundry, buys groceries. But it’s not the same.

He noticed you never eat the last cookie. You always leave them in the package, ready for him to find. It’s the same when you bake cakes: you leave the last piece untouched. Before taking a shower, you ask him if he was about to. You can wait, he takes less time showering anyway. When you’re watching the telly and he peeks from the hallway, you pause to see if he wanted to watch something. “I’ve already watched a couple episodes,” you tell him, “are you sure you don’t want to see the match?”

He doesn’t.

Simon wants to see you relaxed. That’s what he wants. He wants to see two or three pairs of your shoes by the bed. He wants to open the kitchen drawer and see that there are no cookies left. Wants to get home and find you painting your nails, oblivious to the dirty dishes in the kitchen. For once.

He wants to feel that you live there. That you’re actually a person. He doesn’t want you to be your mother’s daughter or your brother’s older sister. Simon wants you to be you.

He clears his throat. He’s not sure what to do with his arms, so he’s standing in the middle of your living room, still in uniform. Shit, he should take off the mask.

You’re looking at Simon with the same eyes you have when you hang up after talking to your mother over the phone. After she spent half an hour telling you how your “little” brother- the man is barely two years younger than you, for God’s sake- has a terrible schedule, always sleeping too little and not helping around the house. Because yes, unsurprisingly, your brother still lives at home. Once he told Simon- apparently joking- that he didn’t have to sweep the floors if he didn’t have his own place.

“That’s not… Not what I mean.”

There it is again. Your patience. You’re hurt- he knows it, even though he can’t see it; you never let it show-, and you’re still waiting for him to finish talking. Always attentive. Sometimes, Simon wishes you’d yell at him. Or be rude. Something. He doesn’t want you to mistreat him, it’s just… You deserve to let it out. And he’s a bloody good punching bag. He’d gladly take that place. If only you granted him the honor.

“I just… Aren’t you tired, love?”

You twist the kitchen towel in your hands and his stomach mirrors the motion. Your voice is carefully stable and light. Fake. Empty. “Like, from work? No, I’m okay. I mean, this project turned out to be more…”

He can’t stand it. Simon grabs your hand and pulls, absorbing you into a hug. He knows you like his chest. It’s like a warm pillow, you told him once, it’s comfortable. He hopes you meant safe. He hopes this’ll be easier to hear if he isn’t looking at you. He hopes it is not too late. He hopes you’re not too hurt.

“I’m sorry. I know the project is taking a toll on you.” His big hand moves softly against your waist, holding you closer. “You’re doing so much. You always do a lot. Just wanted to make sure you knew you don’t have to.”

You’re tense, and he can’t tell if it is a good sign or not. Simon closes his eyes and kisses the top of your head, right under his chin.

“You’re always good, you know that, right? Even if you aren’t doing anything. I just want to get home and see you. Don’t need you to put the dishes away or clean the bathroom, okay? It is okay to rest.”

He pretends not to feel you wiping your cheek against his t-shirt.

“Really, I’m not tired. And I don’t want you to get home to a mess, I-“

“You can rest even if you don’t need it, yeah?”

You’re good to me anyway. I don’t love you because of the way you keep the mirrors clean. Please take from me. Let me help you so I know you love me too.

He doesn’t say it. They aren’t actual words in his brain. It’s more of a desperation deep into his heart. Simon hasn’t cried in a while, but your hair looks blurry as you shake your head.

“I know, don’t worry.”

He doesn’t think you do. Or, he knows you do, he just doesn’t think you feel it. He’s seen the guilt in your eyes. It is there all the time. It must be a terrible thing to bear. To not have done anything bad and still carry the guilt. Simon has killed. He deserves to hold the weight of those lives; of the punches, shots and stabs that took people away from the world. He knows it. But you… You’re guilty of existing. Barely. And it’s eating you from the inside.

“Can you do me a favor?”

He hates to put it this way. Doesn’t want you doing anything for him. Least of all this. But he knows this is the only way you’ll agree to do it, at least for now. When you chirp a high-pitched “Of course!”- of course, as if it was obvious, as if you owed him something- he fights to keep his voice steady. His heart is not, but hopefully you’ll pretend not to hear it.

“Go lay on the couch, love.”

You start to protest, but he isn’t having it. He turns you around, snatching the kitchen cloth from your confused hands, and guides you to the living room.

“Put on your show, why don’t you? You’re about to start the new season, right? Give me a second and I’ll be here with you.”

Simon knows better than to give you the chance to reply. He shoves the remote in your hands and speedwalks to your bedroom. It’s bloody spotless; he frowns at the perfectly made bed. Your drawers are the epitome of tidiness too, it’s easy to find your favorite pajama. He hurries back to you.

Usually- always- you get dressed without help. This time, he takes your clothes off, folding them neatly and placing them on the corner of the coffee table before easing you into the soft pajama. He places your very confused self back onto the couch and covers you with a blanket before laying behind you.

You don’t really complain after that, which makes him feel lighter. He knows this doesn’t fix anything. He also knows he has to start somewhere.

Simon orders your favorite food, only letting you get up to go to the bathroom, and pets your hair. When you fall asleep, he kisses your temple and carries you to the bed. Before joining you, he makes sure every inch of the apartment is perfect. No dirty dishes, no messy couch, not a single thing for you to do. He even puts air freshener. Simon doesn’t mind doing all that in the morning, but you’ll see it as a chore and he won’t let that happen.

No, tomorrow you’re staying in bed. You’re sleeping the ten hours you need, you’re snuggling with him, and you’re going to relax at least a little. He grabs the book you bought weeks ago but haven’t started yet on his way to bed, and leaves it on your bedside table.

As he gets under the covers, he wipes his cheeks. Tomorrow you’re learning to voice your needs and put yourself first. Tomorrow you’ll stop walking on eggshells in your own home. Tomorrow you’ll be upset, tired, angry, annoyed and lazy. And he’ll be thankful for that. He’ll step up and be calm, energetic, patient, loving and take care of things. Tomorrow he’ll take care of you, and you’ll let him.

Tomorrow you won’t be perfect. Tomorrow you’ll be happy.

Okay, he admits to himself. Maybe not tomorrow. But tomorrow you’re starting. He’ll make sure of that. Simon is going to take care of you.

[formulawolff]

xviii. separation - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 2.7k

warnings: cursing, toto being down bad, james being a dick (yet again), some angst, sexual innuendos, mentions of divorce, mentions of slut-shaming, addressing cheating allegations, yearning (lots of it!), yadayadayada

prev. | next.

“fuck!”

your voice carries through the garage as your helmet meets the floor, thudding against the concrete surface. ripping at your face covering, you suck in a breath of fresh air, in a vain attempt to cool down. 

yet, your heart still races, thumping against your rib-cage as james approaches you, disappointment painting his features. his lips are wound in a tight frown, brows knitted together, arms folded across his chest.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“what was that?” the inquiry is more like a demand, rough and coarse. 

“i don’t know,” you hiss, jaw clenching as you throw your hands up in the air, “the car was fucking slow, that’s what!”

“oh,” james scoffs, rolling his eyes, “like we haven’t poured millions upon millions of dollars into these cars. like we haven’t spent hours upon hours tinkering with them, making the necessary adjustments and upgrades so that we can compete. have you paused your little tantrum for a minute to stop and think about what happened? or are you going to act like a fucking child for the next twenty minutes?”

“the weather conditions aren’t helping,” a new voice cuts in. 

to your left, a tender hand envelops your shoulder, massaging it. 

the voice is so familiar. one you have become acquainted with over the last year or so. 

alex. 

“maybe you can talk some sense into our little drama queen over here,” james shakes his head, pointing a finger at you, “that was a shitty lap and you know it. i don’t even know what mercedes sees in you with a drive like that. i suggest you stop fantasizing about mr. wolff for two seconds and focus on racing for just one minute. maybe then you would have earned the pole position.”

the words are like venom-laced daggers, stabbing you in the chest with a fiery, searing pain. 

tears well up, heat billowing into your cheeks.

“f-fuck you,” you manage to sputter out, alex’s arms instinctively wrapping around your frame, protecting you from the nosy glances now flooding your way from all directions. 

“we’ll meet again later tonight,” james’ tone is hollow, nearly emotionless, “alex, good job on your qualifying time. see you soon.”

“thank you,” alex inhales a sharp breath, tugging on your suit, “come on, we should go cool down somewhere else. people are staring.”

“i can’t fucking stand this,” you mutter, sniffling slightly, “this is getting out of hand.”

“no shit,” alex leads you out of the garage and into the paddock, ensuring that you’re behind him, “what the fuck was that all about?”

ever since you arrived in montreal, the once loving, supportive bond you shared with james was deteriorating by the second, the team principal failing to hide his disapproval of your relationship with toto. 

james was like an adoptive father to you, as he was the one who convinced williams to sign you in the first place. he was the one who risked his reputation and position just so that you could sit behind the wheel of a formula one car. there were so many memories created, a rollercoaster of highs and lows. and well, since you spent more time with him traveling the world than your own family, you became very close. 

he would share his advice, and you would listen attentively. if he gave you pointers, you accepted them graciously. if he advocated for your rightful place in the sport, you would thank him, both in front of and behind cameras. 

there was even an episode dedicated to you on the latest season of drive to survive, where it covered the irreplaceable friendship that blossomed between you and the team principal. there were so many scenes of you laughing or joking with him, alex included. there was even a moment where he held onto you so tightly, murmuring endless strands of praise in your ear. that happened after your first race where you finished in the top ten, scoring points for the team. 

now, there was no more laughter. lately, you could barely get the hint of a smile. 

there was simply coldness. icy and unforgiving, constantly blanketing you with anxiety every time you interacted with him. 

and god, there was only so much more you could take. 

“do you want to text george?” alex’s voice brings you back to the present, “i can have him corral lewis, lando, and oscar. they can come over here for a bit. after all, we don’t have any obligations till later tonight.”

he’s led you to his designated space within the paddock, sitting you on one of the plush couches. his switch lays on the table, charging as he fiddles with his phone, scrolling absentmindedly.

“i don’t know how i would feel about hanging out with mercedes drivers in the williams paddock,” you let out an exasperated sigh, burying your head in your hands, “james may think i’m getting intel about toto.”

that was yet another dreadful aspect of the weekend. since you were so accustomed to toto’s presence, holding you oh so tightly against his chest, you weren’t sleeping as well as throughout the night. the delicate patches of skin underneath your eyes were a little puffy, from the exhaustion and the stress. 

so much for a successful weekend in canada. 

you could say goodbye to your hopes of a grand prix victory, especially with a position like fourteen. 

managing a podium position would take a miracle, as you would have to overtake at least eleven of the drivers. 

and with your current situation, you truly were in need of some sort of wish on a star. a miraculous event in which james would cast aside his disappointment for just one minute. where the pr teams didn’t dictate your every move. where you could do the impossible, fighting your way on the grid to the podium. 

where you could reunite with toto, burying your head in his chest as his brassy voice filled your ears.

“oh,” alex clears his throat, tossing a rectangular device in your direction, “here’s your phone girlypop.”

since you were a little paranoid about james confiscating your phone for the weekend, you had alex hide it in his space, somewhere out of sight. it was a little bit silly, but you were just afraid of how far the team principal would go to keep you in line, solely dedicated to competing. 

however, you wondered if james recalled that you were a human, someone who had feelings and did not need to be paraded around like some sort of exhibit or attraction. an adult who was completely capable of making her own decisions and doing as she pleased. 

after all, your relationship with toto was not affecting your racing. 

well, until now, when the two of you were forced into isolation from one another. 

and god only knew how much longer the two of you would be separated. 

only one more day to go. 

not like you were keeping track or anything. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“should we call her?”

“i don’t know mate,” a figure whistles, “he’s going absolutely ballistic over there.”

merely a dozen feet away from the pair stood toto wolff, his foot tapping against the concrete, his arms crossed tightly against his chest as engineers, mechanics, and crew mill about, mingling with one another. on his wrist, there’s a rubber band. which happened to be snapped against his skin numerous times throughout the course of the day. 

that was something lewis picked up the moment he walked into the garage hours ago, how the team principal was wound up tightly, seconds away from crumbling to pieces. 

to prevent any sort or irritability or lashing out, the team principal donned the band, fidgeting with it constantly. it wasn’t so much that he was snapping it, just the fact that nearly every minute, lewis could sense his distress, the way his fingers wrapped around the band.

although there was much to celebrate from this qualifying session, as george landed the pole position, lewis only six cars behind him, the team principal barely displayed any positive emotions. the only thing was the cracking of a quaint smile after the laps. he did congratulate the two, but there were few words.

the team principal’s state was understandable, as his beloved was near the bottom of the grid. additionally, there was the added pressure to maintain his distance, to remain separated for the duration of the weekend. 

to lewis, it seemed that separating the two only stressed toto out more, his mood significantly diminished, his aura exuding pure desperation as he yearned to catch a glimpse of his golden girl. the british driver even caught him staring forlornly at the screens whenever she appeared, shifting uneasily in his seat. 

it was pitiful, really. 

and quite shitty on the pr team’s part. their relationship did not take away from his ability to lead the team, nor tend to his duties. that blazing determination to crush their rivals was still there, just burning slightly dimmer than usual. 

however, lewis knew the reality of the situation. 

the team principal and american driver needed to maintain their distance for the sake of the teams. it was not a good look on the team’s end to allow a fifty-two year old man and twenty-two year old woman to frolic around the paddocks, their hands entwined. it was not favorable for their reputations to let them kiss in front of the cameras. the public was still leery of their relationship, so they would remain separated for the time being, just so that the pr teams could let it all blow over.

for a minute, the british driver considered spreading some hot gossip, something so insane that it was almost believable. just so that toto and his american girl could reunite, shielded from the spotlight. 

“not doing too hot over there, loverboy?” a chuckle flows from his lips as toto approaches them, a pout apparent, “oh come on, that was funny. it’s okay to laugh, you know.”

the team principal’s right eye twitches, “i think one of you just needs to take me out back and–”

“whoa, whoa, whoa,” george sticks out his hands, “we are not doing any of that! none of the sort!”

“jesus christ, toto,” lewis shakes his head, exhaling, “it hasn’t been that long.”

the team principal’s shoulders droop, darkened rings apparent under his eyes, “i haven’t been sleeping well. i haven’t been able to focus on the team. it sucks, it fucking sucks. all i can think about is her. she’s like a little damn parasite invading my brain.”

“well she does suck–” lewis begins, but is swiftly cut off by george.

“lewis.”

“i assume none of you have spoken with the media yet about the grid tomorrow?” for just a second, toto reverts back to his normal state, “we probably should. i do not want the press under the impression that i’ve been avoiding them.”

toto did have a point there.

“let’s go then,” lewis shrugs, “i’m sure they’ll all be swarming around the paddocks.”

the trio wave their goodbyes to the crew, toto announcing the time in which he would be returning to briefly go over any last minute modifications or adjustments. there are chirps in response, the team clearly more relaxed now that their team principal was seemingly back  in business. 

it was not long before they were approached by none other than rachel brookes, her blonde locks bouncing as she strolls up to them, microphone in hand. her sky sports f1 badge sways as a breeze rolls through, strands of hair following in suit. 

“mr. wolff! just a moment!”

of course she wished to speak with toto. 

this was going to be good. 

the team principal runs a hand through his hair, the words barely audible under his breath, “perhaps this was a mistake. fuck, fuck, fuck–”

yet, he straightens his posture as she flashes a radiant smile, bringing the mic to her lips, “i just have a few questions! it won’t be long!”

george and lewis take a step back, watching eagerly as the cameraman hoists the ginormous device on his shoulder, adjusting it so that it is balanced perfectly. rachel clears her throat, tucking a curl behind her ear. 

“good evening! we are here with none other than toto wolff, team principal of mercedes-amg petronas. for a couple of weeks now, we’ve been following the developing story of his intimate relationship with the williams driver.”

oh shit.

lewis’ eyes widen as his lips part, shock coursing through his veins. 

this was not going to end well. 

toto remains still, almost frozen as rachel continues, “so, mr. wolff, tell us what we have been dying to know. who was the one who initiated the relationship? how did it begin? was the divorce finalized?”

as the microphone shifts, hovering by his mouth, blood roars in the team principal’s ears, his mind scrambling, desperate to formulate some sort of coherent response that would satisfy rachel’s inquiry. 

it was almost as if he was a deer in headlights, completely and utterly beside himself as the car barreled closer and closer. 

briefly, the image of her flashes in mind. the way her plush lips curved into that stunning smile, the grin brighter than the sun. the way her eyes shone as they looked up at him, glittering just like the stars above. the way her voice was enough to make him weak, his knees buckling nearly every time she spoke. 

how she was effortlessly divine yet despicable. an angel in front of the world, her laughter ringing like bells, her light illuminating any room she entered. a siren behind closed doors, batting those lashes, her moans melodic and enticing, pulling him in deeper and deeper. 

fuck, was she perfect. so fucking perfect.

and he missed her, oh so dearly. 

she was only a few paddocks away, the distance between them measurable with some tape. 

well, if the mercedes pr team didn’t want him interacting with his sweet girl, the least he could do to fill that void was talk about her. 

fuck it. 

the world already was aware of their illicit relationship. 

why not give the people what they wanted?

“i initiated our relationship,” he starts, feeling a grin form as rachel’s eyes gleam, “i approached her a few months ago in bahrain. if we’re being honest here, i had been crushing on her for quite some time. since the news broke of her signing to williams in december of 2022.”

“wait,” rachel pauses, “you were attracted to her for over a year before initiating the relationship?”

“yes,” he shrugs his shoulder, head swiveling so that he was staring directly into the camera lens, “i am quite aware of the disapproval and rumors surrounding our relationship. but i am going to squash the whispers for good. to all of the naysayers who believe that i cheated on susie, you all are wrong. we separated almost three years ago, in july of 2021. i still have a deep respect and admiration for susie. 

she is not my scornful ex-wife. she is suzanne stoddart, an independent, strong woman who is the brains and brawn behind the f1 academy. she is the mother of our children, who works tirelessly so that she can give them the world. we are on good terms, have an amicable friendship, and co-parent our children together. of course, you all do not have to believe me but that is the truth. 

i love that american girl. rather than referring to her as a slut or homewrecker, perhaps you need to be reminded of who she is. she is the only woman in the history of the sport to ever win a grand prix. she is the first woman to win five grand prixes. she continues to shatter records, all of which are her own. she is the momentum that williams has been searching for all along. 

she is going to the 2024 world driver’s champion. i just know it.”

as he finishes, toto shrinks in his stature, unaware of how passionate his sentiment was. his cheeks burn, tinged with a crimson hue, heat flushing down his neck as rachel blinks. there’s a beat of silence before she speaks up once more.

“wow, toto. that is quite the strong statement.”

“well,” he licks his lips, “that is all i have to say. no further questions, please.”

the team principal shifts his body, starting to face lewis and george.

their expression is unreadable, eyes blown open, jaws hanging low. 

“wait!” rachel clicks her tongue, “one last question!”

“and that is?” toto tuts, “i said no more further questions–”

“you said that you loved that american driver. do you mind elaborating on that?”

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three chapters left!