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dollfacefantasy · 10 months

Text

Baby Bunny

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader

summary: leon helps his sweet baby bunny through her heat.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, breeding kink, daddy kink

word count: 3.8k

a/n: i'm not sure how i feel about this one, but let's go with it. again, thank you everyone for reblogging and commenting, it means the world to me <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld

In his personal life, Leon never wanted to be depended on. That was his job. He didn’t want that stuff following him home. He didn’t want to be tied down, to be responsible for someone like that. People depended on him in Raccoon city and look how that turned out. Every mission he’s been on for the last few years, he’s responsible for someone. It’s exhausting.

But as he nears 30, he starts to look at it differently. An aching sense of isolation grows in his heart. He starts to think about what it would be like having someone, having a companion of some sort. Suddenly, he’s not looking at being relied on as a detriment. Being depended on means having someone to care for, someone to love. There would be someone at the end of long days and the starts of his currently lonesome nights.

That’s how he finds himself with you scampering around his house. The sweetest little thing he’d ever seen. Your long floppy ears, cute little cottontail, those big sweet eyes. From the moment he saw you, he was a sucker for all of it.

A while back he had briefly heard of human-animal hybrids, but he didn’t think much about it. It didn’t really apply to him. If anything, the idea weirded him out a bit.

That was until he started thinking more about his dilemma. It seemed like one of them might be a good solution. He talked to a few people and did some online research and decided to at least look into it. It couldn’t hurt to visit an adoption center right?

He visited the place and was still a little freaked by the whole concept. He walked through the rooms, watching different hybrids move about and mess around. The lady guiding him throughout asked him different questions, trying to decipher what type of hybrid would best fit his needs. But all of her questions were irrelevant as soon as he spotted you.

You were undoubtedly the one. His baby bunny. Not only did he not want any other hybrid, but he didn’t think he could physically leave that place without talking to you at the very least.

He walked over to you cautiously. You kept to yourself, and he could tell from your body language alone how timid you were. He spoke with the softest, most soothing tone he could manage, but you were still so shy.

You’d told him your name so quietly he could barely hear. He didn’t touch you at all, fearing you may cry at something that personal. But he kept talking to you because while others may have found it challenging, he could see you fitting right in with him.

You’d be dependent, sure, but clearly you wouldn’t be overly needy for affection. It would be a good way for him to transition from being alone into having someone.

He kept getting to know you and trying to get through some of your walls. He talked with you about all sorts of things and let you ask your own questions so you could get to know him. By the end of the day, you hesitantly allowed him to stroke your ears.

It was that exact day he told you that he was interested in you coming to live with him. You were still very reserved, but you seemed receptive. You did a little trial run over the course of a week, and just as Leon thought, you were a great fit.

You had grown more comfortable with him in the months since that week even though your core personality hadn’t changed. You were still generally quiet, never asking for much and being appreciative of whatever he gave you. You’d talk with him openly now, mostly responding to him rather than starting conversations but speaking nevertheless. You slept in your own room, but as soon as you woke up, you’d come find him to hang out. It was a nice balance with you.

But Leon still wanted a little more. He would never push it on you, knowing it would make you withdraw again, but he always cherished the moments of progress with you. You warmed up enough that you came around to enjoy cuddling. Leon couldn’t believe how soft he’d become when you curled up to his side and tucked yourself under his arm. The first time you fell asleep in his embrace, he loved it so much he felt chest pains. Once or twice, he’d gotten you to fully sit on his lap, and he couldn’t stop beaming.

He could give you little kisses on your face now, and you’d give him a sweet smile in return that he couldn’t get enough of. You’d never kissed him yourself, but you would nuzzle his cheek in return which was enough to make him happy.

You were just such a sweetheart, a perfect companion for him. You didn’t complain when he had to go to work, but it wasn’t like you didn’t miss him. He could see the way your ears would slump and your eyes would dim as he gathered his stuff and headed for the door. But you also got so happy when he came back. You tried to seem as subdued as possible, but the way you lit up again in his presence was obvious.

The only thing you were still completely closed off about was when you went into heat. Leon understood what it was, he had been nervous about it since bringing you home, but he had no clue about how you dealt with it at all. Every time it happened, you’d shut yourself up in your room for however many days it took, and then return to him as if nothing had happened.

For your sake, he played along. He got the sense it was a touchy subject after bringing up the possibility of getting you some more toys for it and having you immediately shut it down. Your voice had become higher pitched with defensiveness, and your eyes wouldn’t meet his for the next few hours.

He had only wanted to help, but he couldn’t tell you why. Couldn’t tell you that your desperate moans kept him up at night when they echoed down the hall. Those broken whimpers that made it sound like you were crying, so worked up and in need of release that it brought you to tears.

He also couldn’t share how it made his cock rise to attention. How those pretty little noises had him fucking his fist, other palm covering his mouth to muffle his grunts, searching for relief of his own. His precious baby bunny didn’t need to know all of that.

Today had been a long day. He was tired after dealing with all the bullshit that came with his job. Although, unlike in months prior, he wasn’t all doom and gloom driving home. The thought of his sweet girl at home waiting for him by the door kept his spirits somewhat up as he made the commute back.

To his surprise, you weren’t in the living room like normal. He walked through the room cautiously, a little on edge from the disruption to his routine. He goes into the kitchen and still doesn’t find you. He starts to walk to the back of the home and that’s when he hears something. Those soft, needy sounds of pleasure.

His eyebrows raise, but he continues walking. As he gets closer, he realizes something that adds another level of shock to this situation. The noises were coming from his room.

At this point, he was more concerned than anything else. He makes his way down the hallway to his room and slowly opens the door, cracking it open to peek inside.

His eyes widen as he sees you on his bed. You’re kneeling, doubled over though so your face is in the blankets, his pillow between your legs, and your hips rocking back and forth violently. You’re nude from the waist down, only wearing a shirt of his. One of your fists is clutching the blankets while you keep your face shoved against them in a weak attempt to muffle those cute noises.

His jaw goes slack at the sight. He wills himself to remain calm and not succumb to some of his own primal urges. He carefully steps into the room, trying to be quiet even though he couldn’t see a way to not startle you with his presence.

“Baby…” he says, using the most gentle voice he could manage.

You shoot up in bed, now kneeling vertically. Your eyes are wide like you’ve had the fright of your life, your expression clearly horrified that he’d caught you like this. And even though he tries not to look, he can’t help but notice that despite your reaction, your hips don’t stop rutting against the pillow.

“Daddy!” you gasp.

That short circuits his brain. He pauses for a good five seconds to grapple with what you just said. You’d never called him that before. Not that he minded necessarily… but it still gave him whiplash.

His reaction seems to cause you to realize what you had just blurted out. In the blink of an eye, you go from visibly horrified to completely mortified. Your eyes fill with tears as you whimper out “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”

Oh god, and now you’re crying. Leon was still silent as he tried to keep his composure, force the heat building inside of him to cool off before he approached you. Looking at you though, that sweet face with tears leaking down those round cheeks… It made him want to bounce you on his lap till you were crying for a whole other reason.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. It’s alright,” he reassures you as he walks to the bed. He sits on the edge, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on your face. “Is it… Are you in heat?”

“Yes,” you say, tone dripping with shame. You bite your lip and try to restrain any further whimpers. Your hips were slowing down but still moving. After a few moments though, another wave of choked cries erupt from your throat and more hot tears of humiliation slide down your skin. Your hands fly up to cover your face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I-”

“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. It’s ok,” he says softly. He cautiously takes your wrists and pulls them away from your face. He takes one of your hands in his, soothingly rubbing the back of your palm. You whimper at the touch, but he doesn’t say anything. “It’s ok, honey. I’m not mad. You can’t help it. I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

You look into his eyes with your tearful gaze. Your breathing was a little ragged from crying, but it seemed like he was calming you down slowly. You nod with uncertainty, waiting for him to make the next move.

He was also unsure of what to do. This was so unlike you, he’d never seen you this emotional for one, but he’d also never expected to see you in this position. And the entire time your hips were still grinding on that pillow, back and forth like a pendulum.

“Is it more intense this time?” he asks, keeping his tone gentle to not upset you again.

“I guess,” you whimper, “I just… I wanted you.”

It pained him to see you so uncomfortable and stressed out. He wanted you to be able to come to him with these types of things, to trust him with yourself when you’re in your most vulnerable state. It was clear that you desired that too, to some degree. You were in his room, humping his pillow, wearing his shirt.

“Well… I’m right here, baby. I want to help if I can. If you want me to,” he says.

Your skepticism is written all over your face. But you needed this even if you were a little nervous. He pats his lap encouragingly, and that’s the final push you need to let go of the pillow and crawl into his lap.

“There’s my baby bunny. Sweet girl,” he says softly as he gets you situated. He peppers a few tender kisses on your head and strokes your back.

You had only been there for a few seconds, but your hips were already squirming.

“What do you need, baby? Just tell Daddy, and you can have it,” he whispers. The title rolls off his tongue as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It had caught him off guard when you said it, but after it rattled around in his head for a bit, it took root. Now, he just wanted to hear you say it again.

You whimper, looking at him through your lashes with those sweet eyes. At this point, you were all but riding his thigh. There’s a pause as you decide how to articulate your desire.

“I need… I need you,” you offer timidly.

“I know that, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “Try to be more specific for me. Daddy only wants to know so he can help you. Give you exactly what you need.”

He reaches up and cradles the back of your head, bringing you in to rest it on his shoulder. His other arm wraps around you and rubs your back. He holds you as close as he can to give you that physical reassurance he knew you longed for in your condition.

You still hesitate, obviously working up your will to explicitly state your cravings.

“I want Daddy inside, wanna be bred,” you whimper, turning your face against his shoulder to hide your eyes. Your whole head felt hot with the weight of what you said. It was almost dizzying, but he swoops in with his cooing voice and gentle praises to keep you together.

“Poor baby,” he croons, “I don’t know how you handled this alone for so long, honey. That’s so unfair to you, all these big feelings you had to work through by yourself. So frustrating.”

You knew he was being excessively caring now, but you had no complaints. The loving cadence of his voice made your mind melt. All you could do is whimper and nod against his shoulder.

“You could’ve come to Daddy anytime you wanted. I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny, especially not about this,” he says, kissing your head and giving your ears a few loving strokes.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you say.

“Nothing to be sorry about, sweet girl. I’m here now. We’re gonna fix it. Daddy’s gonna make it all better,” he says.

He shifts you around a little so he can slide his pants down and free his hard cock. Your curious eyes dart back to his face after a quick look at the flushed tip and the veins spanning the shaft.

“You ready?” he asks softly.

“Mhm, need it,” you whimper in return, helping him get your hips into position.

He lowers you on to his cock. Both of you let out hushed noises of pleasure as the sensation strikes pleasure within you. His fingers are digging into the flesh of your hips as he slides further into you. Your arms tighten around him and your eyes already start to flutter at the snug fit.

You whine and babble out some nonsense when you’re finally flush against him. His cock twitches inside of you.

“I know, baby, I know,” he hushes you. You could hear the tension in his own voice from exerting so much restraint. “You feeling any better?”

“Little bit, need more Daddy,” you mewl.

“Just give yourself a second to adjust, angel,” he grunts. You were pulsing around him, making it harder for him to not let go.

But it seems you’re feeling the same way. You shake your head in response to his words and start haphazardly squirming around, trying to move up and down while still in his hold.

“Need it Daddy,” you whine, “Can’t wait. Pretty please.”

Like he’d said, he couldn’t say no.

“If you’re sure, honey,” he says and loosens his grip, “Be a good bunny and bounce for Daddy.”

That’s all you need to hear before you’re bouncing up and down. Wet noises fill the room as your slick pussy takes him in and out. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, letting the embarrassment fade and just feeling the pleasure running through you.

Leon focuses on helping you keep your balance as you ride him. His own belly was twisting with ecstasy as your heat engulfs him over and over.

“That’s it, good baby,” he grunts, “Keep going, honey. Get it all out.”

You whine and continue on, up and down, up and down. More cute noises spill from your mouth as the head of his cock nudges all the right places. You ramble on, mumbling things like “love my daddy” over and over.

“Daddy loves you too, sweet girl,” he says softly.

He notices you starting to cling and whimper more. You were still riding, but your rhythm was becoming more awkward. You seemed more desperate even though you literally had him as close and as deep as physically possible.

He tries to help and do more of the work. He pulls you in close again and holds you against his body. Your face is pressed to his neck while he rubs the back of your head. His hips start to do the majority of the thrusting, bucking up into you fervently.

More incoherent strings of words escape you as you melt into his chest. You press a few sloppy kisses to the base of his neck. Despite him taking over, you were still being whiny and squirmy. He knew you were in discomfort, but it should be getting better, right?

“What is it, babydoll? What else do you need?” he coos.

Your head falls back and a sound of general pent up frustration escapes you. Your hips roll into his thrusts in large, needy movements.

“It’s not enough,” you cry, almost near tears from the ache between your thighs, “Need you more. Closer. Need it.”

You tug at his arms trying to get him to wrap them tighter. There wasn’t much Leon could do though. You were already as close as possible, any closer and you wouldn’t be able to move, which he was sure wouldn’t go over well with you. He felt so bad for you though. His sweet baby bunny suffering like this.

He watches you, your weak attempts at getting yourself off by rising and falling on his lap. He can’t take watching you struggle like this. Doing the only thing that could think of, he boosts you up and quickly flips you over.

You’re now pinned beneath him. His toned body is all over yours, heated skin pressed to you in every way. He spreads your arms out and holds your wrists down. His hips are against yours. He’s just grinding into you now, not even pulling out with his thrusts. He was as deep as possible. If this wasn’t enough, he didn’t know what else to do.

“How’s that, pretty girl? Is that how my baby bunny wants it? Wants Daddy nice and deep, ready to spill his cum and breed her cute pussy,” he breathes.

You nod eagerly, eyes rolling back at the relief you felt. This is what you needed. Feeling his weight on top of you, unable to move anywhere else.

“Mhm, this is what you need, sweet baby. You’re gonna take every last drop. Gonna keep it all in to make sure it takes too. If any leaks out, that just means I’ll have to fuck it back in. We’ll just have to go as many times as we need to,” he groans.

“Yes Daddy. Wanna take it all. Gonna be full of your cum for days,” you whimper.

“Yeah you will be. I think that’s what I’ll do from now on. Whenever my baby bunny goes into heat, I’ll have to stay home, make sure to keep you in bed, keep you plugged up full of Daddy at all times. That pretty little head won’t have to think about anything but being bred,” he says.

You just nod again, unable to get proper words out at the minute.

“I feel you squeezing, sweetheart. You getting ready to cum for Daddy?” he coos and reaches up to stroke your ears. He hikes your thighs up more, giving him a deeper angle to drive into you with. You gasp from the change, and your noises get higher as he rams in as much as he can without it being painful.

“Daddy!” you cry out. It’s all you can say. You had more, but it could only come out in the form of that one word right now. He’s all that was on your mind. Daddy daddy daddy.

“Yes, baby. Yes. Daddy’s here. Gonna fill you full of cum and then love on you for the rest of the night,” he purrs, “My baby was so brave, dealing with this all by yourself. But doesn’t it feel so much better when Daddy takes care of you?”

“Mhm, mhm,” you agree quickly.

Your hips start bucking while your body spasms. Leon knew this was it.

“Good girl, baby. Cum whenever you want. Let it feel good baby, get perfect and tight,” he says.

You do just that. You let the release wash over you. You shudder and dig your fingers into his muscles as the feelings bubble over.

“My perfect little bunny,” he praises softly while watching you let go.

It’s not much longer until his cock his pulsing violently within you. He thrusts as hard and as deep as possible before letting out a loud groan and burying his face in your neck.

“Fuck, baby, baby, baby,” he mumbles.

He spills it all inside you, hips twitching and arms locking around you. In the end, you’re both panting. He pulls back a little to kiss your forehead again. He looks down into your eyes.

“How’re you feeling now, sweet girl?” he asks softly.

“Better for now,” you answer. Your head starts to clear and return to its normal state.

He nods and kisses your head again. He rolls over onto his back, scooping you up against his chest while staying inside you. He rubs your back gently.

“You did so good, baby,” he whispers, “Now you see you don’t have to do that alone. You can trust me, sweetheart. I only want to help you. Keep you happy.”

You nod and look up at him lovingly.

“If this is what you need, this is what you need. We can get through it together,” he says softly.

“Together,” you agree softly and scoot up slightly, kissing him gently on the lips.

He smiles big and holds you closer somehow. He leans in for another kiss and another. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to get enough.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

3K notes · View notes

moonydustx · 4 months

Note

How about Law x Female Reader, where they switch bodies. It could be unexpected or intentional from Law. There's smut, spicy, and reaction from the Heart Pirates. Before the smut scene, both Law and Reader experience their daily life in their new bodies.😊😂

Hi Hi! All good? I saw your requests and I loved them all, I will do my best to deliver them soon. Just a small observation, maybe I'll do them in just one part (or two at most), I hope you don't hate me for it. Well, let's go!

I believe it would be an intentional change, but I made a small adaptation to your suggestion. And, probably part two would be them applying everything they learned about their loved one's body (that is, more smut)

And yes, below the cut we have a huge story

The Change

Law x F!Reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, they exchange a type of bet, mentions of harassment (nothing explicit or detailed). Smut, they talk a lot because they are two idiots understanding how their loved one's body works. mdni

a/n: I loved writing this! Maybe I got a little lost in the smut, I confess that I have a little difficulty with this topic (but I like writing). Spoiler and a reminder because I don't know if it's clear: during the whole smut they are still in each other's bodies.

requests here | rules and guides | masterlist

Comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

NSFW | MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"You wouldn't survive a day in a woman's body."

Ikkaku's speech, surrounded by laughter and glasses of drink spread across the table, dictated how drunk you all were, including the captain himself, since that was one of the nights he allowed himself to have one drink or another.

"I'm sorry, how?" Shachi hung on the other side of the table, indignant at his colleague. "You wouldn't survive a day in a man's body."

"How not?" You settled down on the bench, punctuating each topic mentioned. "Cramps, hormones, stress. The list is long, I wanted to see you get through a week like this."

"They definitely couldn't handle it." Ikakku supported you.

"Captain, what do you think?" Penguin asked and all attention turned to Law, who just denied with a brief and almost imperceptible smile. "Don't tell me you're going to take their side."

"I prefer not to express my opinion." he replied, downing some of the drink

"Is that because you're on their side or because you don't want to disagree with them?" Shachi encouraged, watching you stick your tongue out at him. "The captain is too smart to pick a fight."

"He knows what's good for him." you grumbled

"The question you didn't ask is: would you survive in Bepo's place?" Law diverted the topic to the bear, who was distractingly eating.

"No, definitely not." with Bepo hearing your response and pretending to be offended, the matter ended in loud laughter.

The night passed peacefully, other crewmates joined the table and the night that was intended to relax and clear your head became a meeting - fueled by drinks and stupid topics - between all the friends present there.

The sun was about to rise when you decided to return to Polar Tang and before you could follow the corridor that led to the room you shared with Ikkaku, you felt two arms pull you back and your back hit something.

"Hmm, it looks like tonight I'll sleep alone, see you tomorrow." your roommate laughed and waved.

"I feel sorry for the captain, now she's going to make him pay for not taking sides." Shachi teased the two of you, also leaving and leaving the hallway alone.

Amidst not very steady steps and stolen kisses when you were alone, you and Law arrived in his room. It was a rare sight to see the captain let himself get drunk, but you couldn't deny that it was at least funny and interesting.

"Well, since Shachi brought it up…" you pushed Law, who stopped sitting on the bed, supported by his elbows and watching you take off your clothes. "What's your opinion on men being able to handle being women?"

"I really can't think when you're about to get naked in front of me." he responded immediately and saw you let your arms fall, your bra remaining in the same place. "Okay, I got it, I got it." he laughed.

"Depending on your opinion, we'll stop here." Your light tone indicated that it was nothing more than a joke.

"I don't think either of you could bear to live in the other's shoes, but I have to agree that you women took this matter too seriously." he pointed out and saw you cross your arms. "What are you thinking?"

"I have an idea!" you approached him, stopping millimeters from where he was lying. Your hands went to your bra again and took it off, as well as your panties. "You'll have to live in my shoes for a week and I'll have to live in yours."

"What does that mean?" Inert to any thought other than your naked body in front of him, Law gave you space to sit on his lap. "Do you want me to change us?"

"Yes, just like you did with the Straw Hats." you proposed and saw him just watching you quietly. Trying to give him more encouragement, you moved your hips against his body. His hand, which was just resting on your thigh, dug into your flesh. "Please babe."

"How about tomorrow?" Without much effort, he turned you over on the bed and fit himself between your legs. "Now I have more pressing matters to attend to."

What little was left of the night was occupied by your tangled bodies and almost hidden moans - this was a small problem because when alcohol was in your body and his, it became much more difficult to disguise certain things.

The next morning, you woke up much later than usual. The sheet had become a big lump around you and Law still had you trapped in his arms.

"Good morning my love." you whispered, watching him sink into your neck.

"Good morning my heart." he grumbled, not having much courage to face the day.

"It's tomorrow." you pointed out and saw him finally open his eyes, unsure of what that meant. "You promised!"

"It's hard not to promise something with you like that on top of me." despite him saying that, he knew he was in trouble and that you wouldn't let it go. "Just give me time to properly wake up and we'll sort this out." and despite him grumbling, he couldn't contain his smile when he saw you excited.

After taking a shower and resolving what was most urgent, Law entered the room again, also finding you ready to face the day.

"Everything okay, can we switch?" you asked, seeing him close the door behind him.

"First some rules." he pointed out. "First, this stays between us, second, no doing anything I would never do with my body."

"That includes…"

"The list is long, if you have any doubts about what I wouldn't do with my body, please ask me." You nodded immediately. "And you, any rules?"

"To be honest, I can't think of anything very specific right now."

"Right. I'll definitely regret this." he mumbled the last part just to himself, but you laughed excitedly. "Room. Shambles."

The first thing you felt was butterflies in your stomach and a little dizziness. Soon after, an immediate strangeness took over you when you heard your voice speaking to you.

"It's normal to feel strange at first." Law, now in your body, scored. Your eyes, now his, roamed all over your body, which was also now his. "This is strange."

"Do not tell me." you were startled when you heard the thicker timbre of Law's voice, which now belonged to you. "This is fantastic."

You went to the table next to the bed and picked up the small bottle of water, downing it in one go.

"What are you doing?" Law asked, adjusting the clothes he was wearing.

"I really want to know what it's like to pee in this." You pointed to the waistband of your pants. "I think every woman has asked herself that question."

"I already regret it." he murmured and walked over to you, taking a paper from the pocket of the pants you were wearing. "Before we exchanged, I resolved most of the pending issues that needed more attention, here I left some daily tasks that I need to do."

"And you, will you know what I do?"

"Honey, I'm the captain, if I don't know what my crew members do, I don't deserve that title." He pointed out and hugged your waist, resting his head against your chest.

"Are you really doing this to see if it's as good for me as it is for you?" you pointed out and felt him nod against your skin.

"Its confortable." He knew it was one of your favorite ways to hug him, what he didn't admit was that he loved having you there in his arms too.

"I know." You said, gently grabbing his chin and bringing your lips to his.

At first it was strange, kissing the lips that once belonged to you, but now some of Law's actions were starting to make more sense to you, like having to hold back so as not to turn a small peck into a kiss and then into sex. It was supposed to be just a peck, but it only took a few seconds for your hands to get caught in his hair - again, which was once yours - and little by little your body guided his to the bed.

"No babe." Law asked and you immediately walked away. "No sex while we're changing."

"Really?" you let out a sigh, seeing him nod. Before answering, you did a quick mental calculation. Oh man, Law would definitely regret this. "We'll see!"

"We'll see?"

"Yeah, we'll see." you insisted, moving away from him. By your count, you were ovulating and it was the phase of the month in which your libido was at its highest. That would work on him, wouldn't it?

The first day seemed to be the easiest. Each one occupying a role alone, each one following their own small calendar of tasks. When the two of you passed each other, only a brief glance was exchanged.

The second day, however, was much more complicated. Perhaps due to the more reserved behavior of the two of you, some crewmates were starting to find it strange. It was starting to become almost impossible to hide some things.

"Captain!" Bepo greeted you as soon as you found him, an open map and log sitting on the table. "I needed to clear some doubts with you."

"Of course Bepo, how can I help you?" you walked closer, analyzing the map ahead.

"The log pose finishes recording in one day, and according to this map we found, we might be thrown to this island here." he pointed out. "From what we talked to some locals, it's peaceful."

"Okay and what do you need my help with?" you insisted, analyzing.

"Actually, I just wanted to check with you if we're going out tomorrow?"

"I need to think about it." you lied, in fact you needed to consult the real Law. "Can I give you that answer later?"

"Of course captain!"

"I need to sort out some other things, but if you need to, just call me." you left with a brief wave and smile in Bepo’s direction.

The second act of distrust came from Ikkaku. You and she were supposed to organize the supplies purchased on the island and generally, that was the time you used to chat. This time, however, you seemed quieter than usual. Little did she know that she was side by side with the captain the entire time.

"So, everything is alright in your little paradise?" she tried to start a conversation, seeing Law look as if there was a huge question mark between the two of them. "Your relationship with the captain, you haven't brought any news in a while."

"Everything is alright." he limited himself to saying, not knowing how much the two of you talked about it.

"I imagine so. You know, I think it's really beautiful the way you two take care of each other, even if not in front of us. You seem much happier in the last year that you've been together." She scored and returned to her tasks, still with a small doubt about her behavior.

It was at breakfast on the third day that you ended up slipping and showing off. While Law filled his plate with healthy things and a huge cup of coffee, you grabbed a few pieces of bread and started eating.

"I knew!" Shachi shouted, from across the table. "I knew it all along!"

"Know what?" you asked, trying to maintain the serious posture your boyfriend usually had.

"You two switched places." he stood up, standing behind the two of you. "Bread, we all know Law would kill himself if he ate that." he pointed to his plate. "And coffee, we know you'd rather drink poison."

"I don't believe it, it's true!" Ikkaku approached the dishes, analyzing them. "That's why you didn't want to gossip with me."

"Which is why the captain was in a good mood the other day too." Bepo scored. "I liked this idea of yours."

"Law, what's it like to have boobs?" Penguin asked and almost received a collective elbow from his closest friends.

"How did they do that?" Ikkaku took the lead, only seeing the two of you looking at each other, guilty for having been discovered.

"It's just a scientific experiment, we won't give any more details." Law inveighed and saw everyone look confused.

"It's weird to see her being serious like that, like, I know it's the captain." Shachi tried to keep up and gave up. "You guys are making my head hurt."

"Imagine mine." Law pointed out, making you laugh and attracting everyone's attention.

"I didn't know the captain was capable of that." Penguin teased you as soon as he heard you laugh. "Look, it looks like magic."

"Don't be mean." You asked and stood up. "Now everyone hurry up with this breakfast, it's going to be a busy day and we'll be leaving here in…" you bent down, getting to Law's height. "Babe, the log pose has already registered the next island, when do we leave?" you whispered.

"Tomorrow." he replied, in the same low tone.

"We leave here early tomorrow." you finished, hearing your classmates applaud.

"You don't do that to me." Law, in your body, was indignant, causing even more laughter.

It was lighter now that everyone knew, even if it was against the captain's wishes and led to absurd jokes - and equally absurd questions - but it made your day easier.

That day, you would begin to put your plan into practice. You put on the clothes that you knew would tease you - in fact, would tease Law on your body. Perfume, some buttons open on the shirt, leaving the tattoos showing. Damn, it was hard to stay in your boyfriend's body.

You just didn't expect to see him show up at the meeting point on the island in a short outfit that you only wore in two situations. First, when you were off duty and boarding the Polar Tang and second, when you knew you were going out for a walk and that Law would be your shadow. That situation didn't apply today, but perhaps it would serve as a good lesson.

"What outfit is that?" you asked and saw him move, showing off his clothes.

"Since you guys changed, I thought it would be cool to show him the practicality of women's clothing." Ikkaku winked discreetly at you. Apparently, you and your friend had the same plan.

"I won't deny it, it's fresh." Law just said, the fabric against his body. You stood up and adjusted your shirt and hair, attracting Law's attention. "And you, don't you think it's a little too much."

"No." you replied with a cynical smile. "Good, assigned tasks, we'll meet later."

You hoped everything would work out and you trusted your crewmates too much to know that despite all the jokes, they would help Law just as he would help you. You just didn't expect that when you found yourself again, you would see a Law wrapped in a cape, walking furiously towards you.

"Why didn't you ever tell me that?" He prostrated himself in front of you, watching you laugh.

"Where did you go?" you asked Ikkaku, who was laughing right behind him.

"Only in some sales. Because we need some medicines that we didn't find in the previous purchase, we also need to resort to some not so friendly contacts." she explained.

"You will never, ever go out anywhere like that again." he barked and because it was about being in your body, being smaller than you were in his body, it made the fight cute from your point of view. If it were the other way around, you would be furious. "Better, you don't go out without me by your side."

"Was it that serious?"

"Just some idiots, nothing that was actually dangerous." Ikkaku ignored Law's drama and explained it to you. "He beat some of them up."

"That reminds me that you need to train more, they almost managed to restrain me." Law continued. You just reached out your hand and caressed the top of his head, making him even more irritated.

"Now go tell your little friends how cool it is to be a woman." you pissed him off even more

Night fell quickly and after Law's little drama, you didn't see him around anymore. Except when you went to sleep and found him in the bedroom, trying to reach his shoulder.

"Problems?" you asked, seeing his attentive eyes reach you.

"Just a little soreness in my shoulder after today's fight." he pointed out and you went to him on the bed, sitting immediately behind and taking the role for yourself. "My heart, I'm serious."

"What's serious?" before he continued speaking, an involuntary moan escaped his lips as soon as you began massaging the sore spot. "Were you saying something?"

"That is good." he murmured, throwing his head to the side and giving you more space to work. "But back to the subject, I felt scared today. I know I could take those guys down in seconds, but there was something holding me back, I think it was sensations from your own body."

"I know, I've been feeling some things that I know belong more to your body than to myself." You explained, seeing him nod. "This fear, well, it's common. Every time I meet these types of people I feel this fear, but it doesn't stop me from fighting."

"I need to make some changes, you and Ikkaku will never take on this kind of task again, it's disgusting." he punctuated and gasped when he felt your lips press against the base of his neck.

"This is also a feeling that I know belongs more to my body than your mind." You laughed, letting your lips slide under the skin of his back that once belonged to you.

The shoulder massage began to turn into wet kisses under the skin, your hands slid down his side. One, tracing small pieces of exposed skin and the other, attaching it to his hair and leaving the space that your mouth explored clean. Seeing Law move his hips against the fabric of the bed, you couldn't help but laugh.

"Do you want to review the sex rule?" you whispered in his ear, seeing him gasp. "I know what you want."

"Not yet, just a few days left." Even though the tone of voice betrayed him, Law remained firm in his decision.

At least that's what he thought, or what he wanted.

The worst part about switching bodies, in his view, was that he knew what his body liked - and consequently, you knew about yours. The small problem is that the things that Law liked and that he could use your body to provoke were either too intimate and would give away his plans to you or, if done in a more public place, would arouse an almost crazy jealousy in him - regardless of the body he occupied. As for you, you could take advantage of the fact that firstly: Law was starting to feel his hormones raging, secondly: you didn't need much to attract his attention.

With each touch you gave his body, each time he woke up, you allowed your hands to travel to the places you knew he would like. With each small gesture you saw the small thread that held his sanity inside his body slip away.

The proposal ended the next day, so on the last night you made your final move. The wet body, the tattoos on display and a small towel around his waist was enough.

Law approached you and touched your chest, almost testing what he could feel.

"Okay, I give up on the sex rule." He stated, allowing his hands to find the back of your neck and he stood on his toes to give you a brief kiss. "I'm going to explode if you don't fuck me now."

Without giving space for many thoughts to take over you, you took Law's lips immediately. No calm, no delicacy. Fiercely, your tongue invaded his mouth and you could feel his nails grab the back of your neck, wanting more and more.

A growl escaped you as you felt your cock throb just from that kiss. It was too much for you to bear for long, something inside your body made you want to put Law on your knees and watch him taste what you kept there behind the small towel. Reading your thoughts, you felt his soft hands slide down your back, across your abdomen and one of them rested on top of your cock, stroking lightly over the fabric.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" his voice came out a few tones lower when he disconnected from your mouth, a small thread of saliva that connected the two of you broke. "I can bet it almost hurts just from kissing, you can feel it here." He pressed the part of your skin where the path to happiness was drawn. "You can feel it here too." He let one of his hands enter through the gap in the towel and slide down the entire length of your cock.

"Two can play this game." you pointed out, your hand that was gently holding his hair, squeezed tightly. "The interesting thing is that I thought only I had this kind of desire, but now in your body, it's as if I have to control every instinct."

"What do you want?" the smile on his lips indicated that he at least suspected what was going on.

Relaxing your grip on his hair, you once again took Law's lips to yours, Saliva and lust connected the two of you and for a brief moment, you wished you were a third person, just so you could watch what the two of you were doing.

Your mouth slid to the edge of his ear, some hickey marks being traced on your skin.

"Get on your knees for me, now." you whispered firmly and without even hesitating, you saw him fulfill the request. "I bet you're wet just thinking about it, am I wrong?" you saw him deny it as he pulled back the towel and stared at the dick in front of him. "I could make you beg…" your hands found his hair and a moan escaped your lips as his tongue slid down the entire length. "I could make you choke and I bet your pretty pussy clenches at the thought."

"So we can actually feel each other's instincts? Interesting." Law scored before swallowing your entire cock in one go.

At the same time that the sensation seemed to make you ready to combust, the breath and fresh saliva against your cock left you tied to this earth. You had to control yourself not to push further, to not make him feel even more of you.

The sensation was strange to Law, but at the same time, he couldn't deny that it felt good, that it caused a burning sensation in his center, that made him want to slide his fingers between his legs and give him some of the pleasure you felt but that could wait a little longer.

"Like this, babe, please… So good, take it all for me." you asked in a strangled moan, seeing him look up with innocent eyes.

So that was the vision, that was the fun he saw in having you on your knees for him. It was too good, too good until you saw his lips moving away and even with your hand still tied in his hair, Law stood up.

"I don't want to ruin our little test now." He placed a quick kiss on your lips.

"Test? So you're using this to test something?" you began to gently push him onto the bed.

"No, I'm using this for you to pleasure me, but maybe I can use some information."

"You look so hot being a nerd like that." you pointed out, fitting yourself between his legs.

"Remember: technically, you're the one who looks hot." he laughed at his own observation.

While your lips explored his body, each piece of clothing found a new destination in the room. You could worry about that later. Your hand found the soft skin of her breast and while your lips were attached to one of the nipples, the other was trapped between your fingers. You could feel Law move even more against your skin, looking for some kind of friction.

"What's wrong, honey. Is there a problem?" you let go of your breast and asked.

You felt both of his hands reach you and one of them caught in your hair, directing you back to his engorged nipple, while the other guided your hand to his panties.

"Does this little pussy need me that much?" you asked, just letting your tongue glide over her breasts. Two fingers applied pressure exactly where you knew it would provoke him, only an already soaked fabric separating you from his wet pussy. "This is what you want?"

"Don't make me ask, please." Law grunted, moving against your fingers. "Please, love, please."

"It feels like asking someone who didn't want to ask." You slid your mouth along the remaining length of his body until you reached his intimacy.

Placing a few kisses over the fabric, you saw him cover his face, in a frustrated attempt not to beg for more. God, you wish you had time to make him beg and leave him on the edge, just to watch him become a mess, but that would be for another time. Now, you could barely contain your desire to sink there.

The panties accumulated together with other discarded fabrics and you moved his legs apart, contemplating the excitement that dripped down the lips of the pussy that was now under Law's command. You expected him to beg again or at least ask. However, you watched him slide a hand between your legs, pulling his pussy lips apart and giving him a full view.

"Come here, I know you want to…Fuck!" Law barely had time to speak before you sank between his legs.

That was instinct then, you had barely thought about it before you started sucking him. You started fast, voracious, hearing some moans that were now muffled by his hand, but something pulled you back to reality: you knew exactly what he needed and liked.

You moved away a little just to have space for your hand to place there. Two fingers slid down the entire length of his vulva, lightly caressing her clitoris.

"I'm sorry." You asked, placing a kiss on his thigh. "I know this is better." you pointed out, seeing him throw his head back and muffle another moan. "Babygirl, you're barely able to handle this, and if I…" the words died in your mouth as the two fingers slid to the entrance and penetrated him, the hands on Law's mouth weren't enough to contain his loud moan. "It might be a little too much, but you're going to be a good girl and you're going to take it everything, aren't you?" with the movement of your fingers and your request, you saw him nod with a small groan. "Good girl, I can feel you squeezing me."

Without warning, you again let your lips capture the clit in front of you. In sync with the movements of your finger, little by little you can feel Law constricting you even more - his pussy squeezing you tightly, his legs almost strangling you. It didn't take long for you to feel him cum against your lips, hear him moan loudly and hold his hands against your hair, wanting to keep you trapped there.

You continued slowly, until his body was able to come back from the feeling that every orgasm brought to you. You knew what the experience was supposed to be like for him. Climbing back up, you found Law panting, hands still covering his face.

"Still with me?" you asked and saw him nod. "Need a minute?"

"It's always like that?" he asked and this time it was you who nodded. "Is that why you never let me leave early?"

"Kind of yes." You laughed, placing kisses across his face. "Condoms?"

"You never remember." he chuckled, moving his hand away from his face and allowing you to look at him. "First drawer, at the bottom." he pointed out.

Between the time it took for you to get up, put on the condom and finally slide yourself inside Law, it seemed like seconds. Seconds that could easily be replaced by the eternity you wanted to spend there. You sank into his neck, holding back your own moan as you felt the walls of his pussy around you.

Knowing that you needed a little more encouragement - and maybe concentration to not cum right away - Law let his nails lightly scratch your back, while he kissed the patch of skin he could find.

It took a while for you to understand how it worked and letting instinct guide you, it didn't take long for Law's legs to find themselves against your shoulder as you thrust hard into him.

“Fuck love, ” you groaned, letting his legs fall off your shoulder. "I can't hold it in any longer Law." Instead of speaking, Law moved away just a little and placed himself on all fours, leaving his butt stuck in your direction. "So..Like you once told me?"

"Low game, I know how it feels to see you like this." feeling the tip slide and hit your clit a few times, he just adjusted his hips and let you enter him. "Fuck, so deep. I can feel you…Give it all to me, babe."

Without giving yourself the luxury of thinking - and wrongly, without even asking after all, you knew the curiosity and desire that your body had - you moistened one of your fingers and allowed yourself to caress the other hole. The moan that left Law's lips was intense, almost guttural. You circled the small entrance a few times as you thrust. You could feel your dick throb, the pressure increasing even more each time you heard Law moan loudly.

"Please, I'm almost there. Don't stop, please." amidst sighs and throwing his hips against you, Law begged.

A few more thrusts and you felt him press against you. His shaking legs and tight pussy were enough to make you cum - and honestly, it was much more intense than you imagined.

You took off the condom and threw it in the small trash can next to the bed, eager to finally lay down next to Law and hug him. As soon as he did, you saw him snuggle against your chest and call your name softly.

"Everything is fine?"

"Why do I think I can't walk?" he asked, getting a laugh from you and him. "And why do I think everyone listened to me?"

"We were definitely heard, sorry." you asked, placing a few kisses on his head.

"Is the feeling always this strong?" he asked. "I mean, I see you like this every time, but the feeling is much more intense than the sight. And not to mention, we are two perverts in each other's bodies."

"It depends, sometimes it's more, sometimes it's less." You laughed. "And yes, maybe we are both perverts."

You were silent for a few minutes and as you already suspected it was going to happen, Law yawned and his heavy eyes turned to you.

"Tomorrow we will undo the exchange." he pointed out, his voice much softer than before.

"Yeah, tomorrow we'll undo the exchange ourselves." You sighed and turned to him.

"I can't wait to show you some things I learned."

He said and closed his eyes, letting sleep take him at that moment, it was common when you - when you were in your body - became a mess and were exhausted after a few sessions with Law. Apparently, it was no different with him.

Now, it was just a matter of counting the minutes until you were finally able to show each other the new things you had learned.

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #requests open #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #law x you #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #smut #mdni

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7ndipity · 5 days

Text

BTS As Girl Dads

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: Headcanons about how the members would each handle being girl dads

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks to @coffeedepressionsoup for this request! This got me soo in my feels, they’d all be such great dads(I may have gone a lil self indulgent but who cares lol). Obviously, some/most of these could also apply to any kid, regardless of gender, but for the sake of the Hc, we’re focusing on daughters

Masterlist

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Jin:

He’s honestly such a girl dad, argue with the wall

I totally see him wholly embracing the title and all the things that are typically considered ‘girly’, like pink and sparkles and all that

He would indulge every single one of her interests. She likes animals? They’re going to the zoo every weekend. She likes music? He’s signing her up for lessons for whatever instrument she’s into

I have this mental picture of them sitting on her bed together while he’s reading her bedtime stories, using all these silly voices and wearing one of her princess hats or something bc she insisted he needed for the character and just-😭

Yoongi:

Yoongi would be the softest girl dad ever, like she had him wrapped around her finger from day one. He took one look at her tiny little scrunched up face, that reminded him waay too much of his own expression when he’s annoyed, and he was a goner

I see him just sitting soo patiently while she gives him makeovers, wearing like three different pairs of clip-on earrings at the same time

He would really focus on teaching her to stand up for herself and makes sure she never takes any shit from anyone

He might come off a little stern sometimes, but it’s just because he worries and wants the best for her

Hobi:

Okay, Hobi as a girl dad might be one of my favorite headcanons, bc he’d be soo fucking sweet with them!

The tea party King. Like he shows up dressed in the most ridiculous outfits to make her giggle, and ready to talk imaginary gossip with her and any plushies that are joining them🤭

He would love shopping with/for her, constantly trying to find the coolest outfits or pieces for her, and they would definitely wear matching outfits when she was little(she would be the best dressed toddler ever, lol)

I also see him being quite protective of her at times, being super nervous/worried about her doing things like riding a bike for the first time or on her first days of school

Namjoon:

Omg Namjoon as a girl dad would be soo fucking protective. Like if someone does anything to hurt or upset her, they’re fucked

I see him loving daddy-daughter days out together, taking her to the park or museums or bookstores, really just wanting to indulge her curiosity and interests

Like Yoongi, he would really work to make sure she knows how to stand up for herself, as well as others

For all of his sternness tho, he would have the biggest soft spot for her, he’s 100% the type to let her have dessert before dinner or something bc she gave him puppy eyes

Jimin:

Omg he’s soo girl dad coded, like it’s not even funny(he literally confirmed that on that ep of “are you sure?” like 🥺)

He would treat her like a little princess, doting on her at every possible opportunity, buying her toys/clothes/treats, taking her on special outings, etc. If she wants something, he will do whatever he can do give it to her

He would not be able to stand seeing her in any sort of pain. Like even her just having a scraped knee would make him slightly misty-eyed, even tho she’s not upset/crying about it

I see them having lots of long talks about whatever’s on her mind. He would really strive to be her safe place to ask questions about anything, from school and friends to life and the future

Taehyung:

I see him being an amazing girl dad! He has this amazing, comforting dynamic with the girls that he’s worked with/is friends with, so I can only imagine how supportive he would be with his own daughter

He would be so indulgent in whatever she wanted. Ice cream before bed? Heck yeah, let him grab a spoon too. She wants a new plushie/toy even tho she just got one like yesterday? Well, the new one needs a friend, soo-

But he would still have his more stern/protective moments with her, just moreso in little ways like making sure she’s always wearing her helmet and elbow/knee pads, brushes her teeth, does her homework, etc

He would play along with all/any of their imaginary games, fully committing to the role(and adding waay too many silly death/fainting scenes bc they make her laugh)

Jungkook:

Junkook would absolutely adore a daughter. Like she would be his little princess and anyone/anything that upsets her will have to answer to him.

On the flip side of that protectiveness tho, he is so unbelievably gentle with her. As an infant, he handled her like she was made of glass, and as she grows up, he would always speak to her in a softer tone than he uses for anyone else

(Also dodon’t think about him singing her to sleep every night as an infant. Getting up with her in the middle of the night and walking her around the house, singing to her softly till she drifts back off to sleep in his arms)

He would love teaching her things and playing games with her(I totally picture him teaching her boxing in tiny and falling over all dramatic when she lands a hit, lol)

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @universal-travel-er @bo0ghol @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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javier-pena · 3 months

Text

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word Count: 5k (so much for short drabble)

Rating: Mature

Summary: You work for the DEA in Colombia. Until one of your missions goes terribly wrong.

Notes: This is the first fic for my 10k follower celebration!!! Thank you, @lokischocolatefountain who requested “I’ll be here when you wake up” with Javier Peña. I hope you like it 🤭 This fic was very much inspired by Gabriel García Márquez' "Noticia de un secuestro" ("News of a Kidnapping") which I highly recommend if you're interested in what Narcos (Season 1) only covers in two episodes, namely the kidnappings of prominent figures in Colombia by the Medellín Cartel in the early 90s. As ever, huge thanks to Dani @alexturner who took the time to ask, "What does this mean?" and made me realize that I, in fact, don't know the answer to that question.

***

It’s night again. Or maybe it’s dawn. You don’t know. The blacked-out windows don’t let in any light. Your days are no longer structured according to the laws of nature (morning – midday – afternoon – evening – night), but according to the laws of your captors (wake up – bathroom – food – nothing – food – sleep). Maybe you’re awake all night and sleep all day. Maybe you only sleep for four hours and are awake for twenty. Neither your mind nor your body can tell the difference any longer.

Right now, for example, you’re in the “nothing” part of your day. It’s just you, rolled up on your mattress in your corner, and your thoughts, looping and looping, making you relive how you ended up here, in this room, somewhere in Colombia. And every single day, right at the end of “nothing” and the start of “food”, you come to the same conclusion: It’s all your fault.

It started with your childhood, you think. No, you can’t blame everything that went wrong in your life on your father, but he certainly did his bid – no matter what you did, it was never enough. Not even when you applied for a transfer to the embassy and you got selected, the youngest woman in DEA history who got an assignment like that. All he had to say to you was, “Huh”. So of course, you had to do better than that.

Here, in Colombia, you found yourself surrounded by men just like your father, old men in suits who sneered at you, confusing you with a secretary, asking you to make coffee and take notes. Old men with guns and enough war stories to fill a book, calling you “little lady” and pinching your cheeks. Old men that were just there, leering at you from corners and doorways. And they all had the face of your father.

Still, no one forced you to raise your hand that Thursday afternoon your floor ran out of coffee, the same afternoon Noonan called you all to a meeting and asked for a volunteer. “Dangerous assignment,” she said, “likely to get you killed.” You should have listened to her. But the looks on all those faces when you raised your hand and said, “I’d be happy to do it,” were worth it. Almost. Because, ultimately, it was the beginning of the end.

One of the men on guard duty today swears loudly and another one growls at him to be quiet. Sometimes they forget there’s a life outside those blacked-out windows and they’re not the only people in this city. You forget that too, but then you hear the voices of people living their lives, the sound of a car backfiring, a dog barking somewhere. If one of you makes the wrong noise, surely, you’ll be discovered.

The three men with you today (tonight?) know that, and so do you. They’re playing cards by the light of a dirty kerosene lamp, sitting so closely together their knees are touching. If they stretched out their legs, their feet would be touching your mattress. The room you’re in is barely big enough for one person, let alone for four. It’s the only room you’ve seen in months, apart from the bathroom they take you to once or twice a day. It’s across a small hallway you haven’t seen because they blindfold you. Every time, for every trip.

You can barely remember a time when not everything you needed to survive was dependent on another person. The autonomy you prided yourself on, your ability to achieve everything on your own, to survive everything on your own, those have been taken away from you. Could you even use the bathroom if no one gave you permission first? You doubt it.

You didn’t need anyone’s permission to go on that undercover mission that ultimately landed you in this tiny square room that is now your entire world. You were the fastest to volunteer, you fit the profile they were looking for: fluent in Spanish, low level enough to not be able to spill any secrets should you get arrested, pretty. It was supposed to be so easy. Infiltrate the Medellín cartel, gather intel, report back. There was even a plan in place to extract you should anything go wrong. And go wrong it did, and nothing was there to break your fall.

Before that, before you watched boys play cards all day, before your only window to the outside world was a small TV, there was one person who tried to get you to back down. You thought he didn’t think you capable of anything because you’re young, inexperienced and a woman, but in hindsight you should have listened to him. It doesn’t matter that the others called him an asshole and you thought he was trying to dissuade you because he was jealous. He knew what he was talking about and you should have listened to him.

The man closest to you lights a cigarette, his face briefly doused in a gloomy red light. You think of them as men because it somehow makes it easier, but he looks barely 16. Your room quickly fills with smoke and you try to suppress a cough so they don’t hit you again.

That’s how this all started, with you getting punched in the stomach.

Your undercover mission asked a lot of you, maybe too much. You were aware that it might be necessary for you to sleep with some of the men you were trying to get close to, and when they asked you about this back at the embassy, you wouldn’t have any problem with it... Until it was about to happen. The man touched you, breathed into your face smelling of cheap alcohol and expensive cigars, and in a moment of sheer panic, you fought back and blew your cover.

That’s it. That’s all. You ruined the mission because you couldn’t lie still for five minutes, and now you’re paying for it.

You know there have been attempts to find you and you know you’re not the only hostage. Right at the beginning, you shared a room with a Colombian journalist who, before that, had shared a room with a famous Colombian TV presenter. You know there are negotiations, you sometimes see on TV that a hostage is returned to their family. One time, there were shouts and sirens and gunshots, but they blindfolded you and put you in a truck. That’s how you ended up here, in this room.

At first, you focused on the stories of the people who made it out alive, not on the stories of the people who didn’t. You’re DEA, and even though you fucked up, you know those three letters are like a protective spell woven around you. Yes, they will hold you captive for as long as possible, yes, they will use you to fight everything you stand for, but they won’t kill you. The more time passes though, the more you doubt anyone is still fighting for your safe return. They might not kill you, but you also won’t be getting out of here.

With every day that passes, with every day you grow weaker and more tired, those men stare at you more and more. At first, they didn’t dare to look at you, ignored you when you tried to talk to them, acted like you weren’t there. Now you catch their eyes on you frequently, hungrily taking you in. They still don’t touch you – not like that, anyway – but they hit you when you’re too loud, they press their fingers over your mouth, the smell of cigarettes and gunpowder making you gag, and sometimes their hands wander, to the small of your back, to your side. Even if you make it out of here alive, you won’t make it out of here unharmed.

It's a different day. At least you think it is. You sleep more and more during your period of nothing, but it isn’t a restful sleep. If anything, it makes you more tired, wearier. You dread waking up and you dread falling asleep and you dread being awake. But something is different today, something has changed while you were asleep. There are only two men with you tonight, and they look at you more and more, their faces unreadable. It unnerves you more than their openly lustful gazes. You pretend to ignore them as best as possible, but it’s hard when you don’t want to turn your back on them.

A third man comes into the room, one you haven’t seen before. He’s big, broad, a tight shirt stretching over his belly, lines around his eyes, thinning hair on his head. He doesn’t look at you, just steps over the two boys and switches on the TV that comes to life with a static crackle. On your mattress, you come alive too, your heart starting with a painful lurch. Whatever it is, this can’t be good for you.

You barely recognize the face on TV. It takes you about a minute to make sense of what you’re seeing, so unfamiliar you’ve become with the ambassador you used to take orders from. She looks the same – it’s you who has changed. Her suit is still perfectly pressed, her hair is still perfectly styled, she still speaks into the cameras in that calm, no-nonsense voice. It’s you who you don’t recognize, you who doesn’t make sense anymore.

It also takes you a while to understand her, to make sense of what she’s saying. You hear the words “hostages” and “negotiation”, and you know she’s talking about you and whoever else there may be, but definitely you. It would explain your captors’ faces. Something has happened, some new development that’s inconveniencing them. Maybe this is it. Maybe you’re being set free. Maybe even tonight. The thought makes you feel light-headed; you have no idea who you are outside of these four walls and that mattress.

“… end of negotiations. We will no longer regard terrorists as equal opposites in this. Any American hostages they might still have, or pretend to have, will, from today onward, be considered missing in action.”

What does that mean? Surely, they wouldn’t just … they wouldn’t just let you die, would they? You’re DEA, you can’t be missing in action, you’re not a soldier. The cartels can’t kill you, they wouldn’t do that. Just how the US wouldn’t abandon you, wouldn’t go on TV to sign your death warrant in front of a live audience. It doesn’t make sense.

You turn to your captors, as if looking for guidance, but they look just as lost as you. Even the big man. He keeps running his fingers through his thin hair, sweat beading on his forehead. One of the boys looks at him too, as if waiting for orders, the other is running the tip of his index finger through the dust on the floor. Why won’t they look at you?

“So we just kill her?” asks the boy who keeps staring at the big man. His name is Andrés Felipe. You know that because another boy let it slip once. You’re not supposed to know their names, and Andrés Felipe made sure that mistake would never happen again, but by then it was too late.

“Not yet,” the man answers. “We have to wait.”

Andrés Felipe groans. “What for? You heard that woman on TV. They’re done negotiating.”

“You don’t know that,” dust boy chimes in. “It could be a ruse.”

Andrés Felipe laughs at him. “As if you know anything about politics. You can’t even read.”

You look at Andrés Felipe then, truly look at him. You need the distraction. You need to pretend it isn’t you they’re talking about, as if your fate doesn’t depend on these three men. And there isn’t much else to do in this room but look. Andrés Felipe is young, younger than you, but older than dust boy. His face is free of wrinkles, free of the tell-tale signs of hunger and a tough upbringing in the favelas. He isn’t here because he needs to be, he’s here because he wants to be. Which also explains why he dares to speak up in front of the big man, whose maturity puts him in charge.

You don’t like Andrés Felipe, never have. Maybe it’s because knowing his name humanizes him and it’s easier to hate a human than some faceless, nameless villain. Maybe it’s because of the cruel glint in his eyes, or the way he beat up that boy who revealed his name. And now there’s his eagerness to kill you. There is no reason for you to feel any sympathy toward him.

“He’s right,” the big man says then. “Maybe they want us to kill all the hostages so they’ll have an excuse to send in the military.”

“They wouldn’t do that,” Andrés Felipe responds. “Everyone would know they’re liars.”

“They’re not,” dust boy dares to speak up again. “Missing in action also means they can be found. If you’re missing, you’re not dead. If the missing people die –”

He can’t finish his sentence because Andrés Felipe slaps him. “Shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The big man doesn’t come to dust boy’s aid. He just smirks. “Quit it, you two, we’re sitting tight until we get our orders.”

“I’m fucking done waiting!” Andrés Felipe shouts and you flinch. He’s too loud. Someone will hear him. And they don’t have any reason to keep you alive now. It’s easier to shoot you and then run. “All I’ve been doing is waiting. Do you think I don’t have anything better to do with my time?”

The big man shushes him. You wish he would hit Andrés Felipe, put him in his place, but he just crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I say we wait.”

You close your eyes and breathe in deeply. Andrés Felipe says something else in that sharp, nasally voice of his, but you refuse to listen. Nothing good can come of it. Either they will kill you or they won’t. You’re too weak to think about either of these options. And you’re not going anywhere until those orders arrive, so you might as well …

When you wake up, the room is quiet, and you immediately know something is wrong. Even before you feel the cool, sharp blade against your neck, and before you smell the stale breath of the man holding it, cowering above you.

“Not one sound,” he hisses, and you recognize Andrés Felipe’s voice, uncomfortably loud in the quiet room. It’s so quiet, too quiet with just the two of you. The sounds of him unbuckling his belt are like explosions against your eardrums. You fight the urge to tell him to be quiet, but then your brain catches up with what your body already knows, and you kick your legs and shake your head.

You almost don’t feel the cut of the knife, but you do feel the hot drops of blood on your neck. “I told you to be quiet,” Andrés Felipe hisses. “Just don’t move.”

But you do, you do move, at least your hands that you ball into fists. You don’t want your life to end like this, in some shack somewhere in Colombia with a knife against your throat and a criminal inside of you. This can’t be it. They have to put you in front of a firing squad at least, don’t they? Not like this. Please, not like this.

Andrés Felipe touches your lower belly trying to unbutton your dirty pants, and you flinch, a terrified groan escaping your lips. The knife cuts deeper into the soft skin of your throat. “Shut up, you stupid bitch,” he growls.

Then there’s blood. Everywhere. It’s in your eyes, your mouth, you breathe it in, you taste it on your tongue. Andrés Felipe collapses on top of you, the knife landing on the mattress with a dull sound. You try to get out from under the heavy body, but you can barely lift his shoulders before your arm starts to tremble.

“Hey.” You wipe the blood out of your eyes to find a man kneeling next to you, shoving Andrés Felipe’s heavy body aside so you can sit up. You don’t know who he is, you’ve never seen him before, but he has to be someone higher up if he dared to kill Andrés Felipe. Because that is what just happened, you slowly realize. Andrés Felipe is dead and you’re covered in his blood.

The strange man reaches for you and you flinch away. “Ma’am, my name is Javier Peña,” he says, his voice steady and calm as if he’s been in this exact situation a million times before. “I’m with the DEA. I’m here to get you out.”

“The DEA?” you repeat, the English sounds feeling foreign in your mouth.

He reaches for you again, touches your shoulder, and this time you don’t flinch away. “You’re safe now.” He squeezes your shoulder, then stands up and holds out his hand to you. You take it and push yourself off the mattress.

“What happened?” you ask, trying to ignore the dead body, half its face gone.

“Maybe we should discuss this –,” Javier starts, but you don’t hear the rest of the sentence. Suddenly it feels like there are cotton balls lodged in your ears and the whole world turns dark, darker than it already is.

Someone is carrying you. You think you must be outside because you feel a light breeze on your face. You don’t remember the last time you smelled fresh air, but when you breathe in deeply, you’re enveloped in cigarette smoke and gunpowder. It’s not unpleasant, you realize with a start. It comes from a heavy leather jacket you’re wrapped in, and from the man carrying you. They never would have carried you like this, carefully, as if you might break, so you know you must be safe.

When you next open your eyes, you’re inside again. The room is so big it startles you at first. But the longer you let your eyes wander, the more your brain adjusts to help you realize you’re in a normal sized living room, sitting on a leather couch, a knitted blanket wrapped around your shoulders. You must have just sat up because your head is spinning and your limbs are trembling, but otherwise you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“Feeling better?”

You’re proud of yourself for not jumping at hearing his voice. “Yeah,” you answer, swallowing to wet your dry throat. You feel an unpleasant tug on your skin where Andrés Felipe cut you twice. “Where am I?”

You turn to look at him. He’s sitting on the couch next to you but with enough distance between the two of you so you don’t touch. He’s holding a half-smoked cigarette between his fingers, trying to hide the look of concern on his face. It’s something you will see a lot from now on, people looking at you as if you’re about to break.

“You’re in my living room,” he answers.

“Why not,” you have to swallow again, “why not at the embassy?”

He taps his foot nervously so his leg is jumping up and down, takes a drag. “Us coming to rescue you … that wasn’t exactly sanctioned by Noonan.”

“So you really are DEA?” you ask, even though there are a million other things you should ask first. Like if the press conference you saw on TV was really true. If Noonan and the United States were really prepared to let the remaining hostages die. But the longer you look at the man next to you, the more familiar he looks.

Javier nods at the same time as you burst out, “You tried to warn me, didn’t you? Back at the embassy? You told me I was in over my head with this. You’re the asshole!”

The surprise on his face is almost enough to make you laugh for the first time in months. “I’m the what?”

You open your mouth, but instead of an answer coming out of it, you start coughing uncontrollably. Your sides are burning by the time you’re done, but Javier is right there next to you with a glass of water that you accept gratefully.

“Let me take a look at your throat,” he says, watching you swallow down the cool liquid.

If you think about it, you haven’t been touched in months. You know you’ll flinch away before he even touches you, so you stiffen your muscles, determined to remain in place.

He must see it all on your face. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know,” you say through gritted teeth.

His fingers are rough against your skin as he carefully tilts your head to the side. You barely flinch but you whimper because the movement hurts more than you would have thought. He hums quietly before standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

You raise your finger to your neck to find the skin there sticky with blood. Whether it is yours or Andrés Felipe’s you can’t tell. But the unfamiliar feeling makes you tremble again. You wish you could stop that, or at least suppress it. You wish the world would start making sense again. You miss your small room and your mattress and knowing what comes next. You don’t even know if Javier is telling the truth, if he really is who he says he is. Yes, he looks vaguely familiar, but until a few hours ago, you had no idea what time of day it was.

“Hey, hey,” Javier says softly. He is sitting next to you again, closer this time, but he’s still not touching you. “Breathe. You’re safe. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“None of it makes sense,” you mumble. You’re not sure if he’s heard you, but you do feel the pressure on your chest lighten.

“You have two cuts on your throat,” Javier goes on, shaking a small bottle of disinfectant. “They don’t look too bad, but I’d still like to clean them. Is that okay?”

How do you explain to him that you just spent months asking for permission instead of giving it? How do you explain to him that you don’t know how to decide anything for yourself anymore?

Not sure what to make of your silence, Javier goes on. “You can do it yourself if you want to. I can show you –”

You tilt your head to the side. “No, please. I want you to do it.”

Javier stops shaking the bottle of disinfectant, grabs a cotton ball, and pours some liquid over it. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

He does hurt you. The second he touches the cotton ball to the cut, you want to scream. It burns so much you can hardly take it. But you grit your teeth and you don’t complain. Because you don’t want him to stop. You know it’s just the isolation and the confusion of the last hours and the fact that your world doesn’t make sense anymore, but the way he dabs the cotton ball across the cut, brow furrowed in concentration, makes you feel safe. And you can’t remember the last time you felt like this.

“You’re being so brave,” he mumbles, and surely you must have misheard or you must have imagined it, because he continues in a normal voice, “Tomorrow, you should go see a doctor. I don’t have any medical training and it doesn’t look too bad, but it can’t hurt to be safe.”

You raise your fingers to touch your throat and briefly brush his as he draws them back. “Thank you,” you say when you find your skin free of dried blood. The cotton ball in Javier’s hand is now a blotchy red. “What happened?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Javier says, standing up to dispose of the cotton ball. “I think he cut you with a knife.”

“No, not that.” You sink back against the couch cushions and tightly wrap the blanket around yourself. “With Noonan and the hostages.”

Javier, who is standing in the open kitchen with his back toward you, stiffens. “It was just you,” he answers, pretending to clean some dust off the counter. “You were the only American hostage left. Because it took so fucking long to find you.” He turns to you, cringing. “Sorry. I meant it took us forever to find you.”

“You can swear,” you tell him, your cheeks tingling from the unfamiliar sensation of a smile.

He walks back toward you, and it’s as if you’re seeing him for the first time. He’s no longer the jealous man who was trying to get you to back off from a mission he told you you weren’t qualified for. He’s the man who risked his job – and his life – to save you. And you don’t quite know what to do with that.

To your disappointment, he sits down in a chair, not on the couch, and lights another cigarette. “We had your location eventually. But then, two days ago, the cartel released the businessman, the only other American being held. We had to give them three men in exchange, and the exchange almost went wrong. Someone high up in Washington must have decided that’s enough.”

“So it was true, what Noonan said on TV?” You feel hot and cold all over. “It wasn’t a ruse? They were prepared to let me die?”

Javier nods. “Yeah, but I wasn’t.”

Your heart stops for a short while. “Why?”

He shrugs. “You’re one of us.”

“You warned me. You told me not to go on this mission. I thought you were jealous.”

He barks out a short laugh. “No, I thought it was a stupid mission. Too dangerous. Not worth risking the life of one of our agents for. And it was putting all our other informants at risk too.”

You look down at your hands, barely recognizing them underneath the dirt clinging to your skin. “What happens next? Will you get reassigned?”

“I won’t get a medal, that’s for sure.” He takes a drag of his cigarette and his face lights up with a red glow. “Noonan will thank me privately but reprimand me publicly. And then she’ll send you home.”

“Me? Why am I being punished?” Your voice, still hoarse from disuse, rings in your ears.

He laughs again, loudly this time. “Darlin’, Colombia almost killed you. I wouldn’t call it punishment.”

Your heart kickstarts at the use of the diminutive. “I want to stay here. There’s still so much to do.”

He stubs out his cigarette. “What you need to do is take things easy. You just went through a horrible ordeal you haven’t even begun to process. Even if you do stay here, you need a break first.”

You want to protest, but you can’t find the strength. You feel weary, exhausted, like you spent the last month trekking through the jungle without a break. Your body is a heavy lump you hardly have control over.

The next thing you feel is Javier’s arms around you as he holds you tightly. “Hey,” he says again, and you could get used to the softness in his voice. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“No,” you mumble, trying to push him away, suddenly trapped in the memory of closing your eyes and waking up to a man holding a knife cowering above you.

Javier doesn’t take no for an answer. “You’ll sleep in my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You’re still not sure this is such a good idea, but there is no alternative you can think of, and your body is begging you to lie down on cool, clean sheets and forget the world for a while. You let Javier pull you up, and you manage to stumble not more than once as he leads you into a dark bedroom. He doesn’t switch on the light.

“I’m going to let you sleep in,” he tells you, sitting you down on the edge of the bed. “Do you want me to leave the door open in case you need me?”

“No, that’s fine,” you answer, weakly kicking off your dirty shoes. You just want him to leave so you can close your eyes.

He runs his hand from the top of your head down to your neck in a well-practiced, automatic motion. “I’m a light sleeper – just shout if there’s anything you need.”

You nod, and he finally steps back with a smile on his face. “Good night, Javi,” you say, your head hitting the pillow before you can stop it. He’s already at the door when you add, “And thank you.”

You can’t have been asleep for more than a few minutes when the sound of gunfire wakes you. It’s not close by, but the echo of it still reaches you, and before your brain has time to process, your body is already responding with a sob that shakes you from head to toe.

“I’ve got you,” Javier says, wrapping you up in his arms. You bury your face against his naked shoulder, trying to steady your breath, but you’re crying uncontrollably now.

“I’m sorry,” you sob.

All he does is run his hand up and down your back. “Shhhh, I’m here. Nothing is going to happen to you.”

His warm breath against the top of your head makes your heartbeat slow down, and you finally manage to swallow your tears. “I’m so sorry,” you repeat, feeling like you’re about to die.

“Come on, lie down,” he urges you gently, trying to lower you toward the mattress.

“No!” You cling to him desperately, but he pries your arms off him without much effort.

“I’ll be here, okay?” he soothes you. “Right in that chair over there.”

You don’t know what chair he’s talking about; you didn’t notice one when he led you into the bedroom, but you stopped noticing things a while ago. “Don’t leave me,” you beg.

He brushes your hair out of your face and places a soft kiss against your temple. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

When you next open your eyes, there he is, asleep in an armchair in the corner of the bedroom, the early morning sun dancing across his skin.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #10k follower celebration

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vienssunshine · 1 year

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Nanami's Hands Make a Great Necklace

pairing: Kento Nanami x fem reader nsfw word count: under 1k content warning: erotic choking/asphyxiation author’s note: I keep getting distracted from my other writing by these Nanami thirst situations my brain won’t stop focusing on.

When you first talk to Nanami about choking you, he is a little confused. He’s used to doing things like that in the context of fighting cursed spirits, not pleasuring his sweet girl. But you ask him so nicely, leveraging your pretty eyes and coquettish voice to make it near impossible for him to be close-minded. He is met with a kiss on his cheek and a victorious smile when he agrees to try it out.

He fulfills your request the next night. You’re in his lap, back pressed against his chest and legs open and sprawled out over his. You’re doing such a good job at taking his thick fingers deep inside you, so when you bring his free hand up past your collarbone, asking a silent question, he can’t say no.

His palm covers the entire front of your neck when he wraps his fingers around it. Since he spent last night fully educating himself on your kinky interest, he knows to apply pressure to the sides of your throat and is gratified when he hears you gasp with delight and excitement in response. He can feel the vibrations under his palm as the honeyed sounds travel through your throat and it makes his cock twitch in his pants.

“Had to reward my pretty girl,” his voice rumbles in your ear, "Been so good for me."

“Mmmm thank you,” you slur out as the warm dizziness begins to hit your head. You melt into Nanami’s firm frame, a euphoric smile spread across your face.

He hasn’t seen you like this before, so pliant and submissive for him. You’re giving him total control over your pleasure, your body, your life. He likes it, a lot.

Still, this being unknown territory for him, he checks in, “Is this alright for you, sweet thing?”

“S’perfect,” you murmur, eyes fluttering and arm coming up to drape around the back of his neck. Satisfied, Nanami begins to pump his fingers in and out of you once more, having eased the pace so as to not overwhelm you while trying something new.

You arch your spine at the renewed sensation and foolishly try to squirm away from the fierce pleasure his fingers are pushing into you. “Behave,” he states with a warning squeeze to your neck.

He knows you tend to be bratty, not one that surrenders without a fight, but, this time, you listen to him, relaxing back into his chest and letting him care for your aching cunt. His sweet thing must love being choked.

“I wish I had known about this sooner,” he says, his breath hot against the curve of your ear, “I didn’t know it made you such a good girl.”

Your shaky hand comes up to rest on the strong fingers encircling your neck, a wave of heat hitting you at the feeling of his rough knuckles underneath your touch. You like his hand there to a dangerous extent. “Was nervous,” you say, interrupted by a moan when he adds another finger to your dripping hole, “Nervous you wouldn’t like it.”

“Darling, I would like anything that has you this sweet for me,” Nanami says.

You turn your head on his shoulder and press a kiss to his cheek as best you can with pleasure assailing your poor body. He continues talking to you, the low timbre of his voice vibrating against your ear, but the haze hanging so heavily over you is making it hard to have your attention on anything other than the fingers massaging your insides.

“My sweet thing can’t focus on anything anymore?” Nanami asks, a dark undercurrent in his tone, “Maybe I should give you a break.” He loosens his fingers around your throat, but before he can remove his hand, you cover it with your own, keeping it where it should be.

“I’m close,” you plead, shining eyes looking up to his stoic ones, “Need your hand around me when I cum.”

He remains silent, waiting. You already know what he wants, and though you like to play coy with him, the nearness of your climax is excruciating, so you whimper out such a sweet “please” that he has to give in.

“There, there,” he coos, his hand resuming its previous grip, “I can’t deny my pretty girl anything when she asks so nicely.” His fingertips press down hard on your pulse and you’re hit again with the sweet effects of deprivation.

You get what you want as, with his rough hand around your throat, the sensation of cumming is divine. So lightheaded, you’re unable to feel anything else when it happens, momentarily forgetting your physical body in the waves of pleasure.

As you’re coming back down to reality, all you can sigh out is a string of ‘thank you’s. Even if you sound like a broken record, Nanami loves each iteration. What he knows for sure is that the next time you ask to try something out, he will have no hesitation.

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meowkn · 9 months

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SOOOO LEME GET A… nanami with a bimbo/airhead house wife preferably with an age gap!!! maybe like how they met, their dynamic, or even students reactions to seeing her(like he forgot his lunch and she brings it in typa situation)

thx ani toodles🐞

Nanami x Bimbo!reader Hcs

Nanami wasn’t really interested in dating, until he met you, he was at his usual coffee spot, getting a black coffee before his long day at work. When your manicured little finger tapped on the back of his shoulder and you fluttered your eyelashes at him, something in his chemistry changed. You asked him a stupid little question about the difference between a latte and a macchiato and he was late to work taking the time to explain it to you.

─.ִ━━ ꯭ ───ׂ─ִ─ ͜͡✿͜͡ ─ִ──ׂ── ꯭ ━━ִ

- Nanami will literally bend over backwards to meet your every need and is obviously extremely overly protective around you since you can tend to be a little airheaded, even when doing the most simple tasks.

- You were banned from cooking alone after you got distracted on the phone with your friends when you were cooking him breakfast in bed, trying to surprise him but ended up with him nearly having a heart attack.

- Nanami buys you WHATEVER you want, he complains about how many times you buy clothes a week but he loves seeing you try on those mini skirts.

- He loves to do your makeup, absolutely loves it. He loves to hold your head in his hand while he applies your mascara or lip gloss.

- You taught him how to use social media, such as instagram, but all he posts are pictures of you or those facebook working man memes.

- “Wear whatever you want, I can fight.”

- He loves you dearly and sometimes gets frustrated when he has to reexplain something to you multiple times, but he always will, being as patient as possible. He loves the look on your face when the little light bulb goes off in your head.

- Nanami never announced to anyone that he was dating, let alone married, so when he showed up to work one day with a pretty little wedding band on his finger everyone was shocked.

- One day you noticed that Nanami forgot his lunch at home so you, decided to surprise him and bring it to him. You walked into his office and handed his lunch, he was surprised to see you there, you usually didn’t pay much attention when he was talking about work. Most of his coworkers thought you were confused on who you were and why such a vibrant young woman was talking to Nanami of all people, but that all changed when you kissed him on his cheek and they saw the matching wedding ring.

- That kiss on the cheek left a lipstick stain, one that he did not wipe off the whole day.

- Doesn’t understand your humor most of the time but he thinks your laughing is adorable so he’ll just laugh along with you.

- Absolutely does not want you to life a single finger, he feels like his job is to take care of you. You want something? he’ll buy it for you. You want to rearrange furniture? He’ll do it for you. You need to being in your shopping bags? Put them down, he’ll do it for you. He one time scolded you for bringing in the groceries and said “Honey, what if you break a nail? We can’t have that happening now.”

- No job for you! Enjoy your lavish stay at home life!!

- Shamelessly has you sit on his lap while he works for home, especially in those mini skirts you like so much.

- Learned your haircare routine and how to take care of your hair just so he could wash your hair for you whenever your feeling too tired, but also because he loves the feeling of your hair on his hands

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x bimbo reader #jujutsu nanami #nanami headcanons #nanami fluff #i love him #i need him #hes so husband

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tanix-dragon · 2 months

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Is That a New Guy or Am I Losing My Mind; or, A Beginner's Guide to Finding Headmates

Written by Roger de Camden of the Draconic Wizard Workshop

Hello, everybody! This is an essay for both plurals who might struggle finding, identifying, or confirming headmates, as well as people who are questioning whether or not they’re plural. Certain pieces of advice may apply better to questioners than established systems, and vice versa, but rest assured, it is intended for both!

This essay will be broken into several sections for various “phases” of discovery and working things out, but a disclaimer before we get to that: this is heavily based on our own experiences. This is not a one-size-fits-all kind of guide. I’m going to try to make it such, but, well, I can’t make any promises, because there are infinite ways of being a system out there, and everyone’s a little different. This is just what I’ve found works for us, and, to a large extent, many of our system friends! That being said, if you try to start syscourse or invalidate other systems for any reason in response to this essay, I’m going to block you and that’s that.

Also, sorry if I go between spellings for words. I’m English, but the body is American and that means that I don’t know how to spell certain words anymore.

So! Onwards, towards discovery!

Step One: Getting an Inkling

The first step to figuring out whether or not you’ve got a headmate (new or otherwise undiscovered; I’ll mostly be calling them “new” as in “new to you”) is having an inkling that one might exist. This is mostly a passive process, and you’re probably familiar with it if you’re reading this guide. Maybe you felt something scuttle through headspace (if you have one) or through the back of your mind. Maybe you felt a presence looming behind you, mentally, that bolted when you “looked.” Maybe you had a very strong emotional reaction to something that makes no sense for you to react to, but would make sense for a character you’ve been really attached to in a show. Or maybe you slipped into an unfamiliar accent, had a loss of memories and woke up with nail polish on in a colour you hate, or just felt an opinion about something that doesn’t match your usual one. Sometimes, you may even “hear” comments about things going on in your mind.

There are a lot of little things that can tip you off. Most of them are going to be things that are misaligned with your own perception of yourself, your opinions, and your behavior. This is usually a sign that someone is co-conscious or co-fronting with you without you being aware of it. Some headmates are very sneaky this way, and some may not realise that they exist at all while doing this! Don’t hold being hard to notice or get a hold of against your headmates—many of them don’t realise that they exist, don’t know how to not be this way, or are doing it for what they perceive to be a good reason (this last one is especially common in disordered systems). Maybe they’re scared, or just not ready to be confronted yet. Don’t worry—remember, you have your whole lives to figure out everyone who’s in there, and the time will pass anyways! Take it easy.

One specific thing that tends to tip us off to a new fictive is that we realise that… no one is aware of running a character that we’re playing in a tabletop roleplaying game. Maybe someone started off running them, but they sure seem to be doing their own thing now! That character may be hard to “turn off” or “put on the shelf” when you stop playing them—and they may continue to make comments and have opinions about things in your life. This is a dead giveaway! Sometimes when we think about a character, we feel a “movement” or interest somewhere in our mind that doesn’t match anyone else’s pattern of thinking or interests, which also can be a giveaway that they’re scuttling around somewhere. Also beneficial, for us, is our synesthesia—every headmate has a colour associated with them, and when we get a thought pattern that seems to match someone but the colour is off, it can make us realise that maybe there’s someone else in here. For example, if someone were to be really interested in jellyfish, we might think that it’s Caspian, but if the colour comes back as red and not blue, then we know for certain that it’s not him.

This first inkling of a new headmate may be obvious or it may be subtle. You may question yourself repeatedly, but remember: if you feel like you are “accidentally faking,” that’s not how faking works. Faking must be done intentionally and on purpose. You could be wrong, yes, but being wrong isn’t inherently bad. It’s just that you were mistaken about something. Nothing wrong with that! We’re all mistaken about all kinds of things every day! Be kind to yourself while trying to figure things out.

Step Two: Are You There, Headmate? It’s Me, Your Other Headmate

Steps two and three are interchangeable in order, but I thought I’d put this one first because it tends to be the one that’s hardest and most distressing, rather than step three, which is about identifying who the hell your headmate is. We’ll get to that, never fear!

So, let’s say you think there might be someone in there. How can you tell for sure? How can you open communication? How can you get them integrated okay?

The bad news is that this depends heavily on the system. The good news is that there’s no need to panic, rush, or be afraid, because once again, you’ll figure it out eventually, and it will be okay!

My first suggestion is to take note of everything that’s made you think there might be someone else in there. Write it down, if that helps! Write down everything that seems to get the entity’s attention, if anything. Write down anything that might help you identify who it might be! In some instances, you might have a character that seems a little independent but you can’t tell whether they’re really a headmate or not. In my experience, this is often how many non-disordered systems (but it’s not exclusive to them!) realise that they’re plural. Knowing who it is will make this step easier, but it isn’t necessary! After all, if you know who it is, you can also write down things that might bait them into responding. Interests and friends of theirs are good examples.

Your goal in this step is to try to draw them out into doing things, speaking, or acting in ways that will give away that they are for certain there. For systems with heavy amnesia or dissociative barriers, this might be significantly harder, but my best suggestion there is to jump straight to trying to communicate, however you can—and this isn’t a bad approach for other systems, either. You can try internal communication, although you might get no response, or an abnormal one, if the headmate is new. For example, with us, new headmates usually respond to direct queries with anxiety—which, while not good for communication and not ideal for the headmate in question, does help us key in on the fact that they definitely exist. You can also try external communication, if internal communication isn’t working or is difficult for you. Write a note in a journal or a sticky note, or even in a notes app or a private Discord server. Sometimes, headmates can find replying over text to be easier. If you’re a high-dissociation and high-amnesia system who is trying to figure out if it’s someone old or new who is fronting and doing things while you’re unaware, leaving sticky notes places asking people to write down who’s fronting when they see it (if they even know who they are) might be helpful. Keep experimenting, and do what works best for you!

As a last resort for uncertain, new, or inexperienced systems, you can try something called “puppeting” on a suspected headmate, especially if you know who they are and just aren’t sure whether or not they’re here. A warning: this is rude and not advised under most circumstances, but sometimes it’s the only way to make absolutely sure that someone is in there with you, especially when you’re not used to it. Have an apology ready and mean it. Puppeting is when you try to force a headmate to do something, especially something unusual or out of character for them. For example, if I thought I might have my character Gorka as a headmate, but I wasn’t sure, I might try to call up a scenario involving Gorka and then try to imagine her doing something wildly out of character, that she would never, ever do. If I couldn’t get a response out of that, or if I had no idea who this new headmate might be, I might just try to make them physically do something—strongly imagining them doing a stupid dance or similar! No response doesn’t necessarily mean you do or do not have a headmate, but a strong response—usually of anger, offense, or “slapping” your “hands” away—indicates someone separate from yourself! Apologize immediately and then attempt to engage in communication once they’ve calmed down a little, or try to transition into it through an explanation.

There are a lot of reasons that a headmate might not respond to puppeting, though. They might be non-confrontational, or hiding their presence from you intentionally for any number of reasons. (Maybe they’re nervous, not ready to exist yet, afraid of how you might respond, afraid of accepting that they’re in a system—it could be anything.) In cases like this, you might just get discomfort instead of a strong response, which is easy to confuse for being your own rather than theirs. Try to sort out whether you just feel strange doing it, or if it’s someone else’s discomfort bleeding through. I know it’s hard, but that’s a difficult thing to give advice for, I’m afraid! Other reasons may be that they just dip from the front when you try (removing themself from your sphere of influence completely), or if they’re a character you frequently play, they might be so used to being pulled around into doing things that it doesn’t bother them, or bothers them so little that you don’t notice.

Usually, if you’re at the point of trying puppeting, there’s enough signs that this person really is a headmate to dissuade you from trying it once you’re a little more used to it. It’s a temporary and unideal tool that should leave your toolbox as soon as you become confident enough to identify new headmates without getting grabby with them. Undoubtedly, trying to establish communication is a better approach, if you can get it to work.

Usually, once we’ve properly spotted a headmate and made it clear to them that we know they’re there, one of two things happens: either they come sit in the front for a few days or weeks to settle in, let us identify them, and get used to being a full active member of the system, or they realise that they exist and have a panic attack. This “new headmate panic” can last anywhere from a few minutes to multiple days, and may fluctuate in strength. Sometimes, a new headmate might seem fine early on, but have this panic after a few days, weeks, or even longer. Be gentle during this time, especially if you yourself have a strong reaction—be gentle with both, or all, of you! Realizing that you’re in a system can be very distressing, as can realizing you have a new headmate, so try to be gentle, let yourself feel what you’re going to feel, and work through it in the best way you have. Try not to direct any anger or negative feelings towards anyone else in your system during this time, and just let the storm pass before really trying to get to know each other.

Step Three: Who Is This Guy, Anyway?

Once again, you can do this step before or after step two, but I put it here because I decided to include some tips for getting to know your headmate, not just identifying them (if there is anything to identify). If your system is introject-heavy, or if you’re asking yourself if you’re just really interested in a character or if they’re a new headmate, this is an important step! Who is this? Are they an introject of some kind? Are they something or someone else? Is there anything to identify, per se, or is it just a situation of getting to know a whole new person? This is a very, very different step depending on your system, and is going to skew very much towards my own experiences. I’m sorry about that, but I will do my best!

If you’ve already established communication with this headmate, even if it’s shaky, you can try to get information from them that way. They might be willing to give you a name, a code name, a colour, an aesthetic, likes or dislikes, something you can use to familiarise yourself with them or identify them from a list of “suspects” if you have such a thing. (We always do, because we’re almost all fictives, and we know our own patterns at this point.) For us, new headmates almost never actually identify, and just sullenly sit while trying to figure themselves out and will only confirm who they are once we figure it out. It’s sort of like playing a mystery game, assembling clues based on a myriad of factors. If you have some suspicions, just like the previous step, you can try to bait out responses by doing things that might interest who you suspect this headmate might be.

Again, I suggest writing things down! Write down likes and dislikes, things that get their attention, interests, even things that make them anxious or afraid. Whether it’s a case of identification or just getting to know them, this is invaluable information for interacting with someone sharing a head with you, and it may even be helpful for them as they get their feet under them.

Another invaluable tool is talking to people outside of your system. They can help you identify when you’re acting unusually, when you might have someone unfamiliar riding co-conscious, and even who that person might be. You may be too tangled up in your own feelings, your dissociation, or the desperation to understand who is in your head with you. It’s easy to get lost in the weeds and lose sight of the big picture, but another friend, especially another system that knows you well, can be extremely helpful! One of our system friends has clocked many a headmate of ours before we were even certain they were there—just “hmm, you’ve been very much like X lately” and they were absolutely right.

Regardless, taking notes on your new headmate, asking them about themselves, and sharing things about yourself are all important steps to getting to know them! They may be uncomfortable, they may distrust you, they may be afraid—or they could be friendly and excited to be here! It really depends on who it is and their comfort level. Don’t push—if they’re not comfortable talking yet, don’t make them! Let them adjust at their own pace and get to know them as they’re willing to let you. I know it can be distressing to have a totally unknown entity co-fronting with you, but sometimes it’s one of those things that you have to take a deep breath and carry on through until they’re willing to talk. I know you can do it! Talk through it with someone outside of your own head if it’s difficult to give yourself some fortitude if you need to. I know it helps me.

Step Four: Now What?

Let’s say that you’ve confirmed that you do have a headmate, and either have or are on the road to identifying them, if applicable. Now what?

As I’ve said before: be gentle with yourselves! Especially for a new or inexperienced system, and especially for someone who is just realising that they’re a system, this can be overwhelming, distressing, or any other number of emotions. Remember that having or gaining headmates isn’t inherently a bad thing, and while this all might take some getting used to, it’s going to be okay. You’ll figure out an equilibrium eventually, and it is absolutely possible to live a long, happy life with your headmates. Remember that you’re all in this together, and you’re a team.

People may not want you to notice them, may not want to be in the system, or may avoid attention as best they can for a lot of reasons, and trying to make them feel at home, or at least more comfortable, is essential. It can be scary being in a system all of a sudden, especially if they’re an introject or otherwise had a life outside or before this one. Maybe they don’t like the body, or are afraid of another headmate, or are terrified of a negative response from you or someone else. Don’t force these people into situations they’re not ready for! If you’re looking for someone, trying to identify them, or trying to help them, and you’re just causing a lot of distress, back off for a while. Let them calm down and come to you in their own time. Sometimes, you have to do the system equivalent of leaving cookies out on a plate and turning your back to them so that your new headmate can take them without being watched. Take things at the pace that you’re all the most comfortable with, and as always, be kind.

I really do suggest talking to someone about this process, if you can. Journal if you’d like, especially if you can’t trust anyone with this, or don’t feel comfortable doing so yet. Getting your words out of your head helps you sort them out a lot, especially in the case of systems, where a lot of people’s thoughts can get jumbled together. Writing them all down, even if you don’t know whose they are, can be helpful. We find that talking to other system friends is of the most benefit, and our new members are far more likely to speak to them first rather than us, because there’s a degree of separation and that’s more comfortable for them. Whatever works for you, do it! The idea is to get comfortable with each other, and with being here together.

Find things that your new headmate likes doing. Goratrix has a whole panel about this aimed at fictives, but essentially, if your new headmate doesn’t have reason to front and isn’t interested in anything, you probably won’t see much of them, and they may end up miserable. Make sure you engage with them and their interests. Let them make friends if they’d like. Get them snacks. Again: whatever works! This is going to depend very heavily on your system, so follow your gut instinct on this one, I think.

Absolutely essential, though, is to not repress anybody. I know sometimes getting a new headmate can be scary, especially if they’re unfamiliar, frightening, seemingly monstrous, or a persecutor, but remember: they’re probably just as freaked out as you are, if not more so, and they need patience and understanding. Statistically, if they’re doing something troublesome, they’re trying to help and just don’t know how, or are misguided on what “help” looks like. Be kind, and try to find a solution that works for everyone.

Past that… just get to know each other. Figure out how to live together and how to make your combined life the best life it can be. For us, there’s so many of us that someone new can almost always find a fast friend in someone else, and sticks with them for a while until they’re more used to the system and more confident fronting and doing things without their buddy. Other systems may be able to mimic this approach, or may need to do something very different. Again, again, again, do what works best for you! If parts of this guide seem unhelpful or counterproductive, ignore them! This is based on our experience of plurality, not yours. Always do what’s best for you, what helps the most of you, and what causes the least distress while still letting you function as much as you need to.

Being plural is a very personal experience, in a lot of ways, which is pretty funny because sometimes that personal experience is spread across two or twenty or five hundred people. It’s also a very personalized experience, meaning we’re all quite different. Your “now what?” might look very different from ours, and that’s okay. We can only do our best, and that’s always good enough.

I hope this is helpful to someone! If you have any questions, please feel free to ask, and I may edit this guide in the future if it seems that I left something out or think of anything to add. =)

#tans journals #de camden's essays #plurality #endo safe #i MEAN IT THOUGH. NO SYSCOURSE.#and i'm sorry if this guide doesn't apply to your system or is unhelpful!#i could never hope to write something that is helpful to all systems of all types #this is just how we do it and how a lot of systems we know do it #so hopefully this is helpful to someone!#this is also up on our website in a less shitty format as is goratrix's panel i mentioned

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elysiansparadise · 3 months

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Hi again! Can you tell me what does Jupiter in 9th house mean besides being drawn to religion and philosophy? Already thank you for the answer!

Hello love. Sure, I can tell you about this placement.

Jupiter in the 9th house

This astrological position shows a native with a fascinating mind, not only because of the high intelligence they have, but also because of the inquisitive attitude that the wearer has. They tend to be curious people, quick to learn and with immense enthusiasm for new and complex ideas. They are attracted by the strange, the new, what is not as simple as it seems. They are fascinated with intellectual challenges, with what keeps their mind in constant learning. They feel driven by that desire for personal growth, to know themselves and create a path in which to become the person they aspire to be. They question everything around them from a very young age. Many of them, although they appreciate points of view different from their own, will always seek to find what resonates most with them, they seek to define the truth on their own. It is worth mentioning that these natives, from a very early age, have that sense of justice deeply embedded in them, not hesitating to speak their minds when something is not correct under their moral compass. Likewise, they will never try to control other people, allowing them to express themselves and be authentic.

They tend to be people with a lot of knowledge in different areas and can stand out a lot for their intelligence and skills in a specific area. It predicts great success for them in their college student years, whether due to the experiences they will live, socially or academically. Academically they may not have significant problems, and, if Jupiter is well aspected, they may be easily liked and appreciated by teachers. These natives will be good at research, teaching, psychology or in general any activity that puts their mind into action. Many of these natives have a passion and talent for writing, and may be presented with the possibility of publishing or presenting their work to others. It is very likely that these natives have the ability to learn languages, as well as a taste for cultures other than their own. There are great possibilities of traveling abroad, attracting friends, mentors or influential people in your lives who come from other countries. They will not like simplistic or very mundane concepts, as they will prefer to choose to delve into the depths of something, and this not only applies to their interests, but also to themselves and other people. Something that is said a lot about this placement is that long trips are not only exclusive to the physical, but also to the spiritual and personal.

With Jupiter in this house it is common for people to choose to study things related to the humanities, social sciences, law or topics related to the law. Many of them have the philosophy of either doing things well or not doing them at all, and that is something they apply in different areas of their life. Despite how open-minded they can be, they are very blunt and clear people when it comes to their beliefs. They have very well defined what they want and do not want in their lives and what they are not willing to experience again. They may have a strong inclination towards spirituality and the search for universal truth. People can explore different religions, spiritual practices or even philosophical currents. Being in one of its domicile houses, Jupiter can shine easily, bringing luck, opportunities and a lot of wisdom to the life of the native. Ideas are very likely to come spontaneously to your minds, especially when you least look for them. They can easily be inspired by things that others don't see appeal or greatness in. They know how to appreciate the little things in life.

#astrology #jupiter #9th house #astro #jupiter in the 9th house #astrology content #natal chart #birth chart #astro note #astro observations #astrology notes #astrology observations

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loveundrwrld · 10 months

Text

rich yandere x con artist/scammer reader (gender neutral)

cw: blackmailing, unhealthy relationship (on both sides, lol), implied stalking, etc.

you, a young, attractive person struggling with finances, have a clever way of getting by.

it was simple- you flirt and attract rich, lonely people. the dumber the better.

once you get your hooks into them, you move into their place as their significant other (letting you live in luxury apartments and mansions rent-free.) you ask for expensive gifts. you “borrow” small items from his house that you can sell, like watches or rings.

and, if they have not caught on to you at that point- you do your final trick- you cry and say you desperately need a lot of money, for one reason or the other. you say you need it for college tuition, or you say that your mother desperately needs surgery.

and then, once you get the money you’re looking for- you find one way or another to disappear from their life. make them think that you run off with someone else so they won’t want you back. you use a new fake name, each time- so they wouldn’t even know where to look for you even if they did.

you set your eyes on a new target and you initially think that he’ll be an easy con. even more so than usual. you set your sights on rich yandere, a nepo baby heir to the fortune of a successful company.

he’s very sheltered, very inexperienced. it seems that he’s never dated anyone before you. it's no surprise, then, that he falls for each of your lies so easily without any questions.

all that you have to do in return is kiss him, tell him you love him, and let him hold you. very simple for someone who’s used to that sort of thing and more with people you barely know.

he moves in with you very quickly- letting you live with him in a big, beautiful mansion far faster than even you expected.

when you try tell him your planned out sob story, he just shushes you, kisses you sweetly, and gives you whatever you want when you ask. there’s no need to stress, baby, he’s there for you.

after a while you start getting cocky, forgetting to apply your typical level of caution. you ask for far more money than usual with your scheme. and far more often.

surprisingly, rich yandere never seems to care at all. and never seems to notice when your stories don’t add up together.

actually, now that you think about it, he never even asked how you were doing in college even after he gave you all that money for “tuition” . . .

after a while, you start to think . . . it’s only a matter of time before he catches on, right? and then, you start to subtly drop hints, to make your ‘mysterious’ disappearance in his life make sense. you start to mention a man you know and seeming just a little too interested in him.

you quickly see a new side to him. he stops you in your tracks one day and grabs you by the shoulders using your real name. “does he treat you as well as i do (reader)?” he asks. “remember how much money i gave you? he could never do that for you.”

frightened at being caught in your lies, you calm him down in the meanwhile and plan to escape the house at night to make your disappearance.

to your surprise, however, you notice that he's installed new security cameras right outside your shared room some time ago . . . almost like he was expecting this exact turn of events.

and if you try to escape again, well . . . he's quick to remind you. "no one else would like it if they heard what you did to me. if i tell them what you did, things could be very bad for you, baby, considering how much money you took . . .”

but, of course . . . if you don't leave him, nobody else has to know. so you won't leave him, right?

#yandere oc #yandere scenarios #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x you #if this situation sounds familiar i got inspired by that netflix thriller parody show with the really long name lol #rich guy yandere

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yuurei20 · 3 months

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Is it true that Cater is a playboy? I've seen some people saying that he's a Playboy, but I'm not sure if its canon. Thanks!!

Hello hello! ^^ Thank you for this question!

This was also mentioned a little bit in response to an earlier question about Cater's habit of flirting with people, which includes a compilation of screenshots of what is probably the kind of scenes that people are thinking about when they talk about Cater being a playboy!

But I think this might depend on your definition of "playboy" 👀

As of this post, the only canonical romantic relationship we have heard of in the game (on EN 👀) is Ace and his ex-girlfriend!

If your definition of "playboy" is "someone who dates a lot of different people," then "playboy" does not apply to Cater, as far as we know :>

What we do know is this!

His family moved around a lot when he was a child so, at some point, he started intentionally keeping his interpersonal relationships shallow rather than try to forge meaningful connections:

"That's why I always tried to be on good terms with everyone, rather than forge strong bonds with a chosen few. Like a circus performer who has a grand old time with people from around the world, and then packs up and moves on."

While never stated outright, it is a common theory that this is why Cater keeps Trey at arm's length during Wish Upon a Star:

Trey is already his closest friend, so Cater might be keeping up a buffer zone of secrets like what his true wish for the Star Sending is so that they do not become any closer, and their inevitable parting will be less painful.

Lilia tries to encourage Cater, saying that, in deciding not to get too close to any one person he may be the wisest one there, but Cater is not convinced that Lilia can truly empathize:

"Lilia's developed cherished relationships while living in the same place his whole life. There's no way he could ever understand how helpless I feel."

Another thing we know about Cater is that he might be feeling the loss of one, specific friend in particular! He tells Silver that he remembers making a friend at a new school one time, only to immediately learn that he would be moving away again the next month.

It is interesting that he mentions this one friend in particular--were they the catalyst? Was that the point when he decided that he would never get close to another person? We do not know 👀

If you are seeing "playboy Cater" coming from the JP side of the fandom, it is possibly because his speech patterns are that of a チャラい character on JP!

I think "flirt" is a decent translation for チャラい? 🧐 (It was localized as "shallow" on EN, and is the reason why Eliza rejects Cater during the Phantom Bride event.)

They are characters that talk/look flashy, seem shallow, and tend to flirt with everyone equally rather than picking someone specific to pursue. (Orange hair is common but is not required ww)

This survey of 3,324 people voted the top three チャラい anime characters as Moroboshi Ataru (Urusei Yatsura), Saeba Ryo (City Hunter) and Lupin III, to give you an idea of the チャラい character archetype ^^

And a common theme of Twst is: appearances can be deceiving!

Vil and Lilia seem to suspect Cater of having "a morose side that the rest of us never see" hidden by his sunny disposition, but Cater claims otherwise 👀

Much like Epel appears delicate but is actually the opposite and Lilia appears young but is actually old, it is possible that Cater intentionally acts shallow while actually he has a complex inner world--he is flighty not because he is trying to attract people, but because he is trying to keep them away.

More here! ^^

・Cater's Inner Life ・Cater's Childhood

To the original question: I do not believe that we have heard about Cater having any relationships (romantic or otherwise) at all except for one single friend from pre-NRC, which might not qualify him as a "playboy"! ^^

#twstask #twisted wonderland

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ceruark · 4 months

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I love how you write Sunday, he’s so interesting to me. He seems like a person that genuinely loves others and has compassion, yet also sees himself as different from the rest of humanity imo. He has to be the one to save the rest of the world. Sunday has so much yan potential I feel like it would be easy for him to fall into controlling habits even if it means his darling is unhappy.

OP you understand the yandere Sunday vision...

As you said, he has to be the one to save the rest of the world, and of course that sentiment applies to his darling more than anything else.

He knows you're unhappy with him, that you're mourning the life he took you from, but it's all for your own good. He needs to keep you close, in a place where he knows you can't take flight— not because he doesn't want to see you soar, but because he's terrified of the inevitable fall.

He has all the means to keep you where he wants you: power, status, and influence— not to mention the twisting labyrinth of a mansion he lives in, or the brainwashing capabilities of the Harmony. Of course, he doesn't want to resort to such extreme measures if he doesn't need to, so the classic manipulation tactics will do just fine. Surely, you don't want to upset him; you know the warfare he was born into and what it took from him, the immense pressure he was raised under, and how lonely he feels with Robin away all the time.

You know how his heart beats only for you, how he holds you just a little too tightly because he knows no other way to express his boundless love. For a long time, you're not privy to his controlling habits because his love is so pure, if a little intense.

And if you do start to question just how pure it is.... well, that's what the more extreme measures are for.

#hoyo really handed us a man with infinite yandere potential on a silver platter #and i said thank you and ate it up #he makes me so ill #yandere hsr x reader #yandere hsr #yandere x reader #hsr x reader #yandere sunday #yandere sunday x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr sunday x reader #yandere sunday x you #yandere honkai star rail #ceru.writes #ceru.yan #ceru.answers #anon.asks

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ckret2 · 14 days

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This is an earnest question - it came up in one of my fics and I'm curious how other people interpreted it.

I know that the Westmore-Backupsmore dichotomy is supposed to be a joke. It's a kids show, the depth of Ford's disappointment and failure has to be made obvious in the span of a few seconds, and hyperbole is funny.

However, it has always pushed my suspension of disbelief that Ford was being evaluated for a place that was supposed to be in-universe Stanford University or something, and when he didn't immediately get a full-ride scholarship to one of the best universities in the country, his alternative was a place with such a poor reputation that it was literally marketed as a backup plan.

I've seen several explanations for this. I've seen it suggested that he was just too arrogant to apply for a wide variety of schools, and by the time he realized he couldn't do Westmore he was scrambling for the only place with a long application window. I've seen it suggested that Backupsmore was actually a pretty good school, and that its poor reputation was unearned and due to classism because it made an effort to cater to lower-income students. The one I personally went for is that his family was skeptical about his academic aspirations, and as a result Filbrick would only pay the application fees for a small handful of schools.

Do you have an explanation?

When the principal calls the family in to tell them that Ford's a genius and has a shot at getting into West Coast Tech, they're all surprised and thrilled—including Ford. This isn't a case of "I just won't bother applying anywhere but WCT." All evidence suggests he didn't apply to WCT at all... since it seems like he'd never even imagined going until then. It sounds like, until then, Ford's post graduation plans really were sailing around the world with Stan.

I think it's the complete opposite of arrogance: I think he didn't apply anywhere because he assumed college just wasn't in the cards for him.

His family's poor. His family's also Jewish, which probably wouldn't actually impact anything in Friendly Disney Channel Show For Children but in real life it would be a reason for a lot of colleges to quietly turn down his application in the 60s. His family probably also knew that Ford was smart, but unless someone else told them, none of them—Ford included—had enough of a basis of comparison for just HOW smart he was.

They probably thought, sure, Ford's a bright kid, but, HOW bright? Yeah, brightest in the school, but that could be a "big fish in a little pond" deal, this doesn't look like the preppiest high school. Bright enough to be accepted into the fanciest schools in the country? They're not sure—until he's told he has a shot at West Coast Tech. Bright enough for his education to be worth the strain on the family that paying for a college education would be? DEFINITELY not... until that education became worth potential millions.

Bright enough for him to apply to the in-universe equivalents of Harvard and Yale and Columbia and Brown etc? Why bother? West Coast Tech was only interested in him when he had an amazing science project, and lost interest when he didn't. His stellar grades clearly didn't matter to them without that science project. No point in applying to the other equivalent schools now.

Or, hell, maybe he did apply—and, without a big flashy in-your-face wow-worthy science project, all they saw was a poor kid who got good grades from a mediocre school. Unless a poor kid is something really special, a 1960s Ivy League college would rather accept middle-or-upper-class kids with equally good grades—those kids will actually pay their tuition fees.

Or maybe they even did accept him! ... But, didn't consider him quite impressive enough for scholarships, and were too expensive without them.

Sure, we know Ford was a super genius—but a college would need some kind of proof he was a super genius rather than just Really Smart, and he didn't have that proof.

He didn't even consider going to college until probably late in the school year (assuming their science fair was probably in the spring). Within a couple of days he suddenly had WCT offered ("you're worthy of the greatest schools in the country!") and snatched away ("nvm you're not worthy"). Now suddenly, possibly for the first time in his life, college is on the table, and he's been told that he could be REALLY successful if he goes to college... but, the big fancy colleges won't take him. What does he do now?

Backupsmore might have been the best school that 1) he thought would take him (or actually WOULD take him), 2) he could still apply to, and 3) his family thought they could afford.

#anonymous #ask #gravity falls #meta

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shmaptainwrites · 8 months

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — James has a huge crush on his labmate, the only question is how long will it take him to ask her out? (Answer: it's longer than you think)

WARNINGS — cancer mentions, patient death from cancer, drugs, alcohol (don't be mistaken this fic is tooth-rotting fluff)

NOTE — Okay this fic has come up from my compulsory need to elaborate on anything Canadian so if you ever wanted to see James at McGill, this fic is most definitely for you! Also I guess it's indirectly mentioned that reader was raised in Quebec, but obviously doesn't have to be "Quebecois" for this to work

Pronounciation — Jian = Chyehn

James chewed on the inside of his cheek as he walked up to the Stewart Biological Sciences Building on McGill campus. For some reason, it was so much more intimidating now that he was actually a student. During the tour he had his mother’s reassuring hand on his back, his father’s words of comfort that he would most definitely be accepted when he applied.

Now that he had made it, he had to prove he belonged, but it could have been worse. His friends at Harvard and the University of Toronto had told him so. He was getting the best of both worlds, a prestigious school and, hopefully, not as much pressure as the rest of them.

Without loitering any longer, he made his way inside and looked around to find the right lecture hall. It couldn’t possibly be that hard, could it?

After his first semester James had realized he’d made a few mistakes. One was living in a French speaking part of town without knowing a lick of the language, but that one was the easiest to deal with. The others were more in the realm of the amount of sleep he was getting and underestimating how much content the professors could shove down their throats in 14 weeks.

He was more than happy to return to New Jersey for the holiday break to rest and recuperate before going back to the winter wonderland hell that was Montreal, but this time he was confident he would be more prepared.

And for the most part, he was. He got enough sleep, partied responsibly (except Fridays, he partied hard then), always submitted his work on time and maintained his good GPA, making up for his poor fall semester. What he didn’t expect, however, was a distraction.

When you walked into the room James watched you curiously, he thought maybe he’d seen you somewhere before, but he couldn’t quite place it. Besides, you were much more interesting than watching his sample boil for another five minutes.

You came and took a seat next to him, taking out your safety goggles and lab notebook from your bag before shoving it under the table.

“You’re sample’s boiling over,” you said, but James didn’t register you were talking to him at first, still looking at you in a slightly dazed manner before you physically pointed to the beaker, making his eyes go wide as he frantically turned down the heat and removed it.

“It’s a wonder you passed the lab safely quiz,” you teased and James blushed.

“Good thing I don’t want to be a chemist.”

“Oh, and what do you want to be then?” you asked, preparing your own sample for boiling.

“A doctor,” he shared with a little more confidence.

“Any specialty in mind or just a doctor,” you said, doing air quotes over the word.

“I’ve been shadowing some of the researchers in the Life Sciences Research Complex and I think oncology might be a good fit for me.”

“Yeah, as long as you don’t have to boil cancer cells you should be fine,” you assured him.

“What about you?” he rolled on the balls of his feet as he continued his experiment. “Or are you all talk?”

“Pfft, you think I’d be here if I was all talk?” you asked. “No, I want to be a medical researcher.”

“Maybe you should do some shadowing in the LSRC then.”

“No thanks, I think I’ll stick to my job there.”

“Your job?” James looked at your wish surprise. “Aren’t you like 18?”

“Almost,” you smiled.

“How did you manage to get a job there? They barely let undergraduates in the labs, let alone be responsible for anything.”

“It’s nothing fancy,” you assured him. “I just do cataloguing for now, but it's a good experience.”

“Still,” he raised his brows, “you must be like a prodigy or something.”

“Again, no,” you shook your head. “Just someone who goes after what she wants.”

There was a comfortable pause where you both took down your distillation set ups and began working on the filtration portion of the experiment.

“So what’s your name, anyways?” you asked, looking over at him. “Hey, look, clamp it this way,” you demonstrated and he followed your lead, seeing how much more stable the glassware was afterwards.

“Thanks,” he smiled. “I’m James.”

You told him your name and continued your work again in silence.

Chemistry labs quickly became the favourite part of James’ week.

Ever since that lab, James began to see you in all his classes. On more than a few occasions, he’d had to steal notes from his friends on account of forgetting to pay attention. It became an easy thing to tease him about, so his friends began calling him heart-eyes, because who was he kidding, he had a crush.

“Get your head out of your ass, heart-eyes, I am not giving you my notes again,” his friend, Carlo, shoved his arm and whispered harshly as he could see him getting distracted.

“Sorry,” James shook his head and began scribbling down what he had missed, his eyes darting back and forth from the board and back to you.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Pierre asked him after class. “Don’t you talk all the time in the lab?”

“More like I stare at her and she says stuff to make it not awkward,” he cringed at his own actions. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Every time I’m with her I can’t string together a sentence, and– Jesus Christ you should have seen my face last week! Full on red, like I can’t even be subtle about it!”

“Yikes,” Jian grimaced.

“It’s bad, I know,” James assured.

“And this is why we call you heart-eyes,” Carlo patted James on the back.

“Yeah, say it a little louder, maybe she’ll hear you,” James said sarcastically.

“Who’ll hear you?” the group of boys heard a voice behind them and all their eyes went wide as they spun around and saw you.

“No one!” Jian was quick to answer in the least nonchalant way possible, making the rest of the group, especially James, stare daggers at him.

“It’s not no one,” Carlo attempted to save face. “Just… this girl back in uh New Jersey that James’ got the hots for,” he gained confidence with every word of the sentence before adorning a smug smile on his face and patting James yet again on the back.

“You’re afraid a girl in New Jersey will hear you?” you looked curiously at James but he just stared blankly at you. “So you call him heart-eyes?” you instead turned your attention to his friends and they nodded. “That’s cute, maybe I’ll call you that too.”

“Sure,” was all a red faced James could get out before you excused yourself to head over to work.

Pierre was trying very hard to keep a straight face while you walked away and James slapped both Carlo and Jian upside the head.

“What the hell was that! Could you not have been more obvious, Jian? And Carlo, a girl back in New Jersey? Now she thinks I’m pining for someone else!”

“On the plus side, maybe she’ll think all your blushing around her is a circulation issue,” Pierre shrugged.

“You guys are the worst,” James shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, continuing to walk along the path to one of the libraries.

“No, we just saved your ass,” Carlo caught up with him. “However terribly, but if we didn’t say anything you would have stared at her with your mouth open like a trout.”

“Carlo does have a point,” Jian agreed, “At least we bought you a little time to get your act together.”

James sighed, “You guys have too much faith in me.”

“You said that when I started to teach you French and you’ve come a long way with that,” Pierre said.

“Yeah, sure I went from saying nothing to being able to say Je m'appelle James et je ne parle pas français.”

“And what a handy sentence that is when you don’t speak French!” Pierre grinned and James couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head.

“Okay, I’ll try and get my act together and ask her out…and learn more French.”

“That’s the spirit!” Carlo patted his back. “Now let’s go get a drink and relax.”

“Maybe after we study for our physics midterm?” James nudged his friend and Jian nodded his head in agreement.

“Fine, I guess if we have to,” Carlo sighed.

“Not everyone is naturally good at kinematics, Carlo. Take pity on us mere mortals who have to study,” Pierre responded, eliciting a chuckle from his buddies.

James was quiet as he thought to himself. If he could get a B on this physics test, maybe there was hope for him getting his act together after all.

—

Summer break rolled around faster than James had expected. While Jian went back to Richmond, Pierre over to Quebec City, and Carlo to Chicago, James was left alone in Montreal, working to help pay his tuition for the next year. Being an international student was no joke.

He would have gone back to New Jersey, but the positions he applied to in Montreal paid more so it wasn’t a hard decision to make.

His parents would come visit him for some time in July, but for the most part he was alone.

On late nights, he’d make his way to the McDonald’s in the neighbourhood, not knowing enough French to go anywhere else nearby. At least there, most of them spoke enough English to take his order, and if not it was really easy to point to the menu.

“It’s already done?” he asked.

“Give us some credit, hein. We knew you were coming, we had it ready.”

James chuckled and handed him the money for the order, exchanging it for the bag which he took to a table and sat down.

As he was pulling out his fries from his bag he heard the chime of the door and looked up curiously to see who was coming at this time of night.

He stopped what he was doing when he recognized you, watching as you dug through your purse and spoke to the cashier in French. You both laughed about something James couldn’t quite catch and a little while later, after you had paid they handed you a bag and an ice cream cone when James heard you say something about ‘deux cuillères’ taking the utensils they gave you and turing straight towards James’ table, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down.

“I thought you lived in New Jersey,” you said.

James was still stunned that you had noticed him and couldn’t find the words to speak.

“Hey, heart-eyes?” you waved your hand in front of his face. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” he nodded, distracting himself by pulling out his burger from his bag.

“So why aren’t you in Jersey?” you asked.

“Work. I got a job here, it paid better.”

“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully while eating some of your fries. “And all your friends?”

“Back with their families, unfortunately for me,” he nodded. “W-What about you?”

“Oh, I live here,” you shrugged. “In this neighbourhood actually.”

“You live here?” he asked.

“That’s what I said,” you nodded.

“And so that’s how you know French?”

“Every kid in Quebec learns French, it’s kind of a non-negotiable,” you shared. “I gather that’s why you’re eating here.”

“Yeah, Pierre didn’t manage to teach me enough before he left,” he sighed and started to eat his meal.

“I could teach you if you want. I’m taking a little break this summer so I have some spare time,” you offered.

“Oh, I don’t want to-,”

“James, you’re gonna have a shitty summer if you don’t say yes.”

He couldn’t argue with that, it would be nice to communicate more with the people who lived around him.

“Okay, sure, but I’m warning you, I’m a terrible student.”

“I used to tutor one of my siblings, trust me it can’t be worse than that,” you laughed.

You chatted a little more, finishing your meals but not before you handed James a spoon.

“So this is cuillère then?” he asked. “I-I overheard you talking to Jean.”

“Yeah, your pronunciation isn’t bad either,” you nodded. “Here.”

You pushed the ice cream cone between you and began to eat it with the spoon. James had a bit of a sweet tooth and wouldn’t be one to refuse dessert so he began to share the ice cream cone with you.

“So, are you missing your girl in New Jersey?” you asked and James cursed internally, trying to come up with a lie to tell you.

“Um, no not really,” he shook his head. “I don’t think we would have worked out anyways.”

“Oh, so are your friends still calling you heart-eyes?”

He nodded his head, thinking it was better not to say anything in case he gave himself away.

“It’s good that you recognized you wouldn’t work out before you asked her out,” you said, “Couple guys wanted to go on dates with me this year, but just didn’t seem like the right fit. Plus, I don’t really think I’m looking for anything like that right now.”

James nodded his head again, silently eating the ice cream.

“Ever been in love, James?” you asked.

“That’s a really loaded question to ask someone you cornered in a McDonald’s at 11 P.M.”

You ignored his response and continued,

“I haven’t, it seems like such a big thing, how would you even know if it was love?”

James looked up at the ceiling, silently asking God to not let him say something stupid,

“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first.”

“So you have been in love,” you confirmed and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I…I don’t know. Maybe I have.”

“That’s not a very straightforward answer.”

“Then maybe I haven’t. I feel like if it was love, you’d figure it out, eventually.”

You pursed your lips and nodded your head.

“I hope I get to fall in love,” you smiled softly to yourself. “Seems nice.”

“Yeah,” James agreed. “It does.”

—

A few years later…

“So how did it go?” Jian asked, as they sat around James’ small living room.

“It…could have been better,” James sucked in some air through his teeth, recalling a recent memory from earlier that afternoon.

“What the fuck James! You scared the shit out of me! I could have broken the hemocytometer, do you know how much that shit costs?!”

“Sorry!” James quickly apologized and dropped his books down on the nearest surface to help you clean up, making you look up again at him with disdain.

“In the BSC? Really? Now we have to resterilize and all the specimens I have in there are as good as compromised.”

“Shit,” James muttered under his breath, he was usually so much better in the lab, but the second he was with you he became a bumbling mess. “I-I’ll take care of the BSC, I’m so sorry.”

You sighed and removed your gloves, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“It’s not just boiling water we’re dealing with anymore, James,” you said a little more calmly than before. “You’ve gotta be more careful, okay? I’m not losing my job over this.”

James nodded his head and went to grab the things to sterilize the biological safety cabinet and grab the new specimen from the fridge. So much for trying to get a job at LSRC to impress you.

“I was not built to be a researcher,” James shook his head.

“I mean, it’s not that big of a screw up, you fixed it eventually, didn’t you?” Pierre asked.

“Yeah, but not until after a thorough amount of embarrassment.”

“I thought girls found clumsy guys endearing,” Carlo commented.

“Not when the girl is determined to become the leading medical researcher on the continent,” James sighed. “Maybe taking this job was a bad idea. From what I can see she hasn’t even changed her opinion on dating, she hasn’t been with anyone these past three years.”

“Do you hear that?” Carlo removed his feet from the coffee table and placed them on the ground. “You’ve been in love with her for three years and haven’t done anything about it.”

“Who said I was in love with her? And sure, maybe I haven’t made a move, but I learnt French!” James tried to defend himself, pointing to Pierre.

“That’s not as good of a comeback as you think it is,” Pierre shook his head.

“I know,” James hung his head low and sat on the couch between Pierre and Jian. “We’re gonna graduate in a year and she’s not gonna know I’m in love with her.”

“So you are in love with her?” Jian looked over at his friend sympathetically.

James leaned back and used the heels of his palms to cover his eyes.

“He’s gonna have a meltdown, don’t ask him that,” Pierre shook his head.

“God, I do love her!” he exclaimed like he was just finding it out for the first time himself.

“What did I say,” Pierre sighed.

“Can I make it stop?” James looked over at his friends who all shrugged. “I am so screwed.”

“This time, I think we agree with you,” Carlo took a sip of his drink. “Good luck, man.”

James squeezed his eyes shut, he would definitely need it.

—

The year passed to graduation and James was still sitting on his feelings. It was much too late now to say anything. You’d already been accepted to a graduate program through your work with the LSRC and James had passed his MCAT with flying colours and was on his way to medical school at Columbia.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was going to miss Montreal, the city had grown on him during his time there and a part of him wished he could stay.

His friends were also ready for the next stages in their studies, all going to different places across the continent to get their other degrees, with, of course, the promise to stay in touch.

James didn’t know what the next little bit of his life had in store for him, but he hoped regardless of where he ended up, maybe he’d be able to make up for his missed opportunities.

The years of medical school, once started, passed faster than James expected them to, and by the end of it, much to his own surprise, he’d also gotten married.

You were almost all but forgotten in the back of his mind, but time continued to play its games.

Medical school turned into a specialization in oncology, and a divorce. Then residency and a marriage. Then a second divorce. Then another marriage and more recently a position at a hospital in his hometown, on the board and a well respected oncologist and a few new friends…and a third divorce.

“House, I’m not asking you to let them all sleep in your apartment, it’s just a dinner for one night, we’ll be out and about for the rest of the time that they’re here,” James sighed.

“Can’t you just cancel?” House asked. “Divorce seems like a pretty good reason to get out of a reunion.”

“See, the thing is, I’d rather not be miserable and see my friends instead, and they bought their tickets months ago. Please, House, I’ll do the dishes for a week.”

“A month,” House said.

“Two weeks,” James negotiated and House nodded, so they shook on it.

“Good, now that I’ve done you a favour, you can do me one,” House smiled, but the kind of smile that was conniving, like he had something up his sleeve all along.

“I paid you in chores for my favour, who says I owe you anything?”

“Unless you want me to call your friends and cancel for you, you’ll do it,” House continued to walk the hospital’s hallways hobbling with his cane.

“What is it?” James sighed, catching up with him.

“We have a patient and he doesn’t speak very good English, but he does speak French. You went to McGill didn’t you? Must have picked up some of the love language.”

“Unfortunately for me in this case, I did,” he nodded.

“Perfect, come with me now,” House motioned with his head to the patient’s room and James trailed behind him.

When he entered the room, House motioned for him to begin speaking. James hadn’t spoken a lot of French since his undergrad so he was definitely rusty, but he supposed it was better than nothing and began to explain that he would be helping with the translation.

“Erm, Bonjour, je suis Dr. Wilson, je vais aider Dr. House avec la traduction.”

The man looked at James strangely before saying.

“You’re an anglophone, but you speak French like you’re Quebecois.”

“I um did my undergraduate in Montreal, I learnt how to speak there,” James responded back in French.

“Hmm.”

James could tell this wasn’t going to be fun. Some of the French held quite a bit of hate towards Quebec, who knew why, but his accent definitely wasn’t going to help him in this situation.

House got James to ask some routine medical history questions and a few things about his symptoms all the while James had to filter out all the insults that were coming his way with regards to his “poor use of language” and “unintelligible accent”.

When he could finally leave the room, James let out a string of French curses under his breath, still thinking in the other language.

“House, why can’t you just get a proper translator?” he asked. “I’m terrible at this.”

“Cuddy said something about making a big purchase recently and being currently unable to do so, especially since you put that you speak French in your resume. Bet you’re regretting that one now.”

“Yeah,” James nodded his head. “Big time.”

They began to walk towards the elevator to go to the cafeteria for lunch, when James decided to inquire more about Cuddy’s big purchase.

“Oh, she said something about money this, medical research that,” House shook his head, “You know I stopped listening the second she wouldn’t give me what I wanted.”

“She hired a medical researcher,” James said aloud, chewing on the words, “I wonder who she-,”

His train of thought was cut off when he saw, near the elevator, a face he hadn’t seen since graduation day at McGill.

Quickly, unable to think of anything else to do, he ran into the administrative area and hid crouched down behind a photocopier.

House watched his friend curiously before walking over towards him and leaning against the copier asked him if he’d gone insane.

“No, I just, um, remembered I needed to copy some patient files,” he lied.

“You don’t have any with you,” House said.

“I faxed them from my office,” he lied again.

“I think I need to go get Foreman, clearly you’re having a neurological breakdown,” House said.

“Can you just stop making it obvious I’m here?!” James exclaimed in a whisper.

Unfortunately for him, as you were walking past, his harsh whisper made his location obvious, causing you to look down and see his familiar face.

“Oh my God, heart-eyes, is that you?” you asked with a smile and James pressed his lips in a thin line and nodded. “What are you doing down there?”

James became speechless and suddenly he was an eighteen-year-old back in his chemistry lab.

“He’s checking to see if we need more toner,” House said, lying for his friend, but James knew that was all he would get out of him. “Well, that’s my cue to leave, you guys have fun.”

You reached down and offered James a hand, helping him back into a standing position.

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” you commented. “Like since we were-,”

“22,” James filled in and you nodded.

“Yeah,” you bit your lip before asking him how he had been.

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I-I’m assuming you’re the medical researcher Cuddy hired?”

“That would be correct,” you smiled.

“Why did you choose to work here? I thought you were some big hotshot in Canada?”

“I am a big hotshot, which is why I wanted to come to a teaching hospital. I thought maybe it would give more opportunities to teach other people what I know. It’s a win-win. I get to do what I want to and the hospital gets grant money from my research,” you explained. “It looks like you got where you wanted to be too, Mr. Oncologist.”

“Actually it’s Dr. Oncologist,” he joked and you laughed, making his cheeks go red after hearing the sound.

“I missed having you around, James. We should catch up sometime,” you suggested.

“Yeah sure,” he nodded. “I-I’d love that.”

You excused yourself, needing to go introduce yourself to a class of medical students, waving goodbye to James, leaving him stuck in his tracks for a few moments before he could gather his senses again and head downstairs for lunch.

—

“We could have rescheduled if this was too much, man,” Carlo watched James as he brought a large roast to the table for them to eat.

“See? What did I tell you,” House rolled his eyes and James gave him a disapproving stare.

“No, I wanted you guys to come, we’ve been planning this for months. I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of it,” he assured his friends. “Plus, we know how hard it is to nail down Pierre, I swear you are always travelling. Every time we talk you’re in a different country.”

“That’s the life of a parasitologist,” he shrugged and helped James by beginning to cut the roast.

“And Jian, how’s the wife and kids?”

“They’re good,” Jian smiled. “Mei started first grade in September. Becky and I are both up for promotions at the hospital, so I can’t really complain. Although I think Carlo can.”

“Seriously it’s not that big of a deal,” Carlo groaned, “Sure yeah, pharmaceuticals are more flashy than biophysics, but that doesn’t mean that my research wasn’t better.”

“Well if it was better why did William get the award?” James asked and Carlo just flipped him the bird.

“Didn’t we go to school with him?” Pierre asked.

“We did?” James raised a brow.

“Yeah, for a year, from Toronto, huge stoner. Hated being there and did literally no work, but still managed to get honours,” Jian explained.

“Sounds like my kinda guy,” House commented and James rolled his eyes.

Just as they continued to dish out dinner, House’s pager went off and he sighed, excusing himself from the table while practically threatening James to leave him some food.

When House left, James’ friends saw their opening and began their personal line of questioning.

“Hey, James, are you really okay?” Jian asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” James asked in return.

“You’re getting a divorce,” Pierre said. “Seems like a pretty good reason to not be okay.”

James shook his head,

“Yeah sure, it’s a shitty situation,” he admitted. “Did I imagine myself at this point in my life with three failed marriages? No, definitely not. Can I do anything to change it? Also no, and right now I really wouldn’t want to change it.”

“Can we ask what happened?” Carlo queried.

“She cheated on me, then left me,” James said simply.

“Forgive me,” Pierre said. “But you seemed a lot more upset when we talked over the phone last week. What changed?”

James looked down at his plate and cut into his roast, thinking about what Pierre had said. It was true, even earlier today he was sulking about, that was until he ran into you.

“I swear,” James started, “if you guys make a big deal about this I will murder you all,” he used his knife to point at all of them and they nodded, swearing their silence. “I’ve got heart-eyes again.”

“You met someone new?” Jian asked and Carlo shook his head.

“No, he re-met someone old. Tell me, did your hospital recently hire a medical researcher?”

James nodded his head and the table was about to erupt into a loud chorus of comments when James gave them a look and they all restrained themselves.

“James, I’m being dead serious when I say this, but you should have married her,” Pierre insisted. “I never saw you look at anyone else the way you looked at her.”

“Probably explains the three divorces then, doesn’t it? I was still in love with her the whole time,” James sighed. “It’s going to come up eventually, seems like a pretty big indicator that I’m not good at relationships.”

“Who knows, maybe she won’t care,” Jian offered.

“What was it like when you saw her again?” Carlo asked, looking for any opportunity to tease his friend.

“How do you think it was? I could barely talk, I was a nervous wreck, and blushing like crazy,” he shook his head at the thought of it. “I could literally feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. I feel like a middle school girl every time I’m near her.”

“Who knows, maybe she still thinks you have circulation issues,” Jian shrugged and the table laughed.

“What I would give to stay here and watch this play out,” Carlo sighed and leaned back in his seat.

“Knowing James, you’d have to be here for ten years before he made a move on her,” Pierre raised a brow and James threw a piece of potato at him.

“If you ever do get the guts to ask her out, call us. We’ve made bets on this,” Carlo added.

“Real comforting, guys,” James ate a bite of the roast. “I thought this was supposed to be my pity party.”

“Not anymore,” Jian shook his head. “You’ve got heart-eyes.”

This time around, James thought maybe he didn’t mind the nickname as much as he used to.

—

“I would think they’d get you your own office at this point,” James commented as he entered his office, seeing you sitting at his desk, eating a pre-packed lunch.

“Beats me,” you shrugged and continued to eat.

“So you’ve decided that invading my office is your next best bet?”

“Oh hush,” you waved him off with your fork.

“Well, excuse me for wanting to come to a safe place after being verbally assaulted by House’s patient,” he sat on the opposite side of the desk and leaned back in the chair.

“Verbally assaulted?” you asked. “By a patient who isn’t even your own?”

“He doesn’t like the way I speak French,” James rolled his eyes. “I’m translating while they’re treating him since the department used all its money hiring you.”

“What can I say, hotshots cost a lot of money.”

“You know, you could do the translation, probably much better than I can,” he noted.

“I could, but you probably need the practice more than I do, chèri,” you scrunched your nose in a cute mocking way and James could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks yet again. “You still keeping up with that posse of yours?” you asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah, they all flew in to visit a few days ago, we’re gonna go out tonight,” he said. “Do you…maybe want to join us?” he suggested.

“I don’t have plans, as long as they’re okay with it I’d love to come,” you smiled.

“Oh trust me, they will definitely be okay with it.”

—

Later that night, James was drinking deeply from his glass while he watched his friends stare blankly ahead at you. If he looked anything like they did all those times his words were caught in his throat, then he hoped to spontaneously combust right then and there.

“Heart-eyes, I thought you said they were okay with me coming?” you leaned over and whispered to him.

James put down his glass and nodded his head.

“They are okay with it, right?”

Snapping out of their daze, the three men nodded their heads and finally began professing assurances that everything was fine.

“It’s just… you said James invited you?” Jian asked with furrowed bows.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “He mentioned you guys were in town and getting together tonight and asked me if I wanted to join.”

James bit down on his tongue trying not to say anything, but also gave his friends a look to shut up before they gave anything away. He knew what was running through their minds, they were wondering how the hell he’d gotten the guts to ask you to come, but there was one fundamental difference between tonight and any other time he could have possibly asked you. This wasn’t a date, therefore, there was no pressure.

“Maybe you could tell them what you’ve been up to since they last saw you?” James suggested.

“Oh, um, well, I got my master’s degree and doctorate at McGill, both for research in cancer biology-,”

“Cancer biology?” Pierre interrupted. “I don’t remember you mentioning you were interested in that.”

“I-I wasn’t initially,” you admitted. “Just after spending more time in the LSRC and a few other irrelevant things I decided it was the best fit for me to focus on.”

“You and heart-eyes make a pretty good pair then,” Carlo raised his eyebrows suggestively and took a sip of his drink.

“I guess we do,” you chuckled. “As long as he leaves the research to me. We all know what he’s like in the lab.”

“I resent that,” James protested only before saying, “but I do deserve it.”

“It’s a miracle he hasn’t had a medical malpractice suit,” Pierre added.

You asked the boys about where their various careers had taken them and how they were each doing. The conversation stayed pretty normal until the topic changed to relationships, starting with Jian’s wife and family back in Vancouver and Pierre’s husband who was currently in Australia doing research on some massive insect.

“What about you Carlo?” you asked. “Anyone special in your life?”

“Nah,” he waved his hand.

“What about the mom of the kid who pet sits for you?” Jian asked.

“That kid charges me per animal, per size. If I were to date his mom he’d probably charge me for dating her too, and I don’t think I can afford his price,” he shook his head and the table laughed.

“James, you’ve been quiet,” you said. “Nothing to share?”

James nervously took a sip of his drink and looked over at his friends for help.

“James hasn’t had the best luck in love,” Pierre settled on.

“Oh, haven’t found anybody, that’s not a big deal,” you assured him. “I haven’t either.”

“Well,” Carlo said in a high-pitched voice. “It’s not exactly that he hasn’t found anybody.”

“So there’s someone-?”

“I’m divorced,” James blurted. “Three times. Or soon to be three anyway.”

“Oh,” you paused and tried to think of the right thing to say, but for the moment settled on nothing while Pierre changed the subject.

After the visit was over, James offered to walk you to your car and you accepted. The walk started off in silence, but you decided to break it.

“You know, I hope you find the right person eventually,” you said. “It’s unfortunate things didn’t work out three times.”

“Yeah,” James nodded in agreement. “I-um, do you ever think about that conversation we had, in the McDonald’s by my apartment?”

“Sometimes I do,” you admitted.

“Looking back on that, I wonder if we ever really loved each other. If we did this probably wouldn’t have happened. We would have fixed things, worked on ourselves instead of just…giving up.”

“So I guess you still haven’t fallen in love yet?” you asked, but he stayed silent. “Whoever it is, I’m sure things will find a way to work out for you.”

“The moment may have passed on that,” he said with his hands shoved in his pockets and looking down at the ground.

“You never know, James. Sometimes life has a funny way of surprising you.”

—

James watched as his colleagues and a few of the students from the university left the lecture hall while he continued to sit in his seat, watching you walk up towards him.

“Don’t you have patients or something?” you asked. “You’re at all of my lectures.”

“Doesn’t it seem appropriate for an oncologist to attend a cancer biology lecture?” he asked as you sat down next to him.

“I suppose so,” you sighed. “Doesn’t explain why you weren’t taking notes though.”

James looked down at his empty hands and cursed a little internally.

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I don’t mind the staring, it reminds me of school.”

“You noticed?” he asked.

“You weren’t very subtle,” you chuckled.

“Yeah, not one of my strong suits,” he blushed, embarrassed.

“Do you wanna go grab lunch before your break is over?” you asked and James nodded, standing up and offering you a hand to get out of your seat.

You went to the cafeteria, running into his friend House who managed to get his food paid for by James, yet again, before leaving to go back up to his office and work on another differential diagnosis with his employees.

“Did all the guys get back home safe after their trip?” you asked, digging into your food.

“Carlo and Jian are back home, Pierre went to go be with Ollie in Australia.”

“It must be hard not living near them.”

James sighed and nodded his head. “It’s a balance. When they’re being annoying, it’s great that they don’t live here and when they’re not, it sucks.”

“Spoken like a true friend,” you chuckled.

“What about you? Do you still keep in touch with people from school? During any of your degrees?”

“Not really,” you shook your head. “After my undergrad I became so laser focused on my school I didn’t pay attention to relationships that much outside of my family. Starting to regret it a bit now.”

“Kind of hard to have a good conversation with cancer cells,” James said sarcastically and you shook your head. “Do you like it in New Jersey so far?”

“Not as much as back home,” you admitted, “but it is nice to have a friend here.”

“Yeah, Jersey is…an acquired taste,” he settled on, making you laugh, but your laughter was cut off by the sound of his pager, and he looked down to see what the message was before quickly standing up. “Sorry, I have to-,”

“Don’t worry,” you assured him. “I’ll pack up your food and bring it to your office.”

“Thanks,” he nodded and you waved goodbye as he ran off out of the cafeteria and to the oncology floor to go help one of his patients.

—

James didn’t find himself walking around the campus often, but when he did it was usually because he had to clear his head. With everything that was going on in his life, in addition to the circumstances of this case, he was taking it harder than normal.

He had left his coat in his office as the hot New Jersey sun was already beating down, his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes following his feet as he took his steps forward.

He didn’t notice you sitting on a bench as he was passing by. Curious as to his state, you stood up and went to meet up with him.

“Hey James, are you okay?”

Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts almost instantly. He stopped to look up at you, seeing the concern reflecting in your eyes.

He took his hands out of his pockets and motioned for you to walk with him.

“I lost a patient today,” he explained. “He was 11.”

“Oh, James, I’m so sorry,” you said softly.

“In med school you learn pretty quickly if you don’t find a way to deal with what you face every day the result is never good,” he said and you noticed him chewing on the inside of his cheek, “but it was just too sunny outside. How could it be sunny on a day like this?”

You didn’t say anything initially, only intertwining your hand with his and giving it a light squeeze which he returned.

“You know, I think it’s probably okay, every once in a while, to let yourself mourn your patients. Just like everyone else. You have a uniquely difficult job, James, and no one would hold it against you if you need a minute to adjust.”

James stopped walking and you followed his lead, only to have him let go of your hand and pull you into a tight hug. You easily wrapped your arms around his neck while his arms were around your waist.

“You’re a good doctor, James,” you mumbled. “I know, even if you don’t quite believe it right now, you did everything you could to help that young boy and make him more comfortable.”

You could feel him nod his head, clearly not trusting himself to say anything at the moment.

Neither of you wanted to let go, but you knew that you both had work to get back to. James had other patients he was responsible for and you had some work to do in one of the hospital labs.

So silently, hand in hand, you accompanied each other back to the hospital, grateful for each other’s company.

—

“I swear, if I stay there any longer I’m going to go mad,” James whispered to you under his breath as you walked along the halls of the hospital with him to help him run some tests for a few patients.

“What was it this time?” you asked, huddling in closer, waiting for him to spill the beans on why living with his best friend was becoming unbearable.

“He keeps pranking me,” he began to explain and you could see how frustrated he was just by his hand movements. “Last night he thought of the genius idea to put my hand in warm water while I was sleeping and-,” James stopped himself, realizing he’d divulged too much, just as your eyes went wide.

“Oh my God you didn’t wet the bed did you?” you asked in a chuckle and James quickly covered your mouth saying,

“Shh! The whole hospital doesn’t need to hear you!”

You couldn’t hold in your laugh, muffled by James’ hand over your mouth and his cheeks were a bright cherry red.

Eventually you pulled his hand away and said,

“You definitely need to get out of there. That’s criminal.”

“Exactly what I’m saying,” James agreed.

“Hey, why don’t you come over to my place tonight?” you suggested. “We can watch a movie or something together.”

“That sounds like exactly what I need right now,” he nodded his head. “What time?”

“Come over at eight, it’ll give me some time to get snacks and get ready.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he held out his hand and you took it shaking it firmly.

Later that evening while James was getting ready, House watched him curiously.

“I still don’t believe that you blowdry your hair,” he said loudly over the sound of the appliance.

“Believe it or not, I do,” James responded.

“It just seems so pointless, your hair is messy anyways,” he crossed his arms and James gave him a look.

“My hair looks fine, yours on the other hand could use a trim and about a billion other things,” James retorted.

“So, is this a date?” House asked, changing the topic.

“No, it’s not a date,” James shook his head. “It’s an opportunity for me to get away from your insanity.”

“Are you sure it’s not a date?” he asked.

“What makes you think it's a date?” he finally gave in and turned around to face his friend, turning off the blow dryer.

“Well if you asked her if you could come over, probably not a date, but if she offered…” he shrugged his shoulders.

James shook his head, he didn’t want to allow himself to believe it was true, because if it was, he’d probably overthink things and make a fool of himself.

“It’s not a date,” he reiterated and House stopped pressing, seeing as his friend would not be reasoned with.

James finished fixing his hair and grabbed his keys and a coat before stepping out of the door.

It didn’t take him long to drive to your house and when he knocked at the door he heard shuffling inside before the lock clicked and you opened it.

“Hey! You got the dress code memo,” you joked, pointing to his McGill sweater and then back at yours.

“I thought you might like a blast from the past,” he smiled and you invited him inside.

As he entered he noticed the array of pillows on the couch, blankets draped over arm chairs, and books piled on every surface possible. To top it off, the house was currently only lit by lamps allowing a warm orange hue to fall over the space. It made James’ shoulders relax and he could even feel his nervous heart rate slow.

“Do you like it?” you asked. “I am by no means an interior decorator, but I tried to make it feel cozy so it’s nice to come back to after long days at work.”

“I do like it,” James nodded. “A lot. It feels like a home.”

“Perfect, that’s exactly what I was going for,” you smiled. “You’re the first guest I’ve had here, you know?”

“Really? No fancy dinner parties with the hospital board?”

“No, not yet,” you chuckled. “Unfortunately, this guy in the oncology department keeps taking up all my time.”

You grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the couch.

“But don’t worry, I don’t mind.”

After he took off his coat, you both sat down next to each other, James extending his hand along the back of the couch and you naturally sat right up next to him, leaning forward to grab the remote and turn on the movie.

“What did you pick?” James asked.

“Just some random horror movie,” you said. “I heard it’s really cheesy.”

“We’ll see about that,” James raised his brows and grabbed the popcorn from the table, putting it in between you both.

You pressed play once you were both settled and tossed the remote to the side of the couch, curling your legs up and waiting in anticipation for the movie to begin.

It didn’t take long for the horror plot to begin, jumping right into the satanic murders and supernatural deaths. Just as you had predicted, it was cheesy, but that didn’t stop you from being startled whenever something popped up unexpectedly on the screen.

Both of you were lulled into a false sense of security during what seemed like a quiet part of the movie, then, all of a sudden, the killer jumped into the frame with a loud change in the soundtrack, causing you to shriek and move towards James, also feeling him jump slightly from being startled.

You both looked up at each other and laughed at the ridiculousness of your collective fright.

“You’re supposed to be the calm one,” you elbowed him.

“I know it just-Jesus!” James found himself inadvertently closing his eyes and wrapping his arm around you as if it would give him some protection from what was on the screen.

You laughed again and leaned closer into his side, patting his leg to assure him it was safe to open his eyes again.

“You must enjoy torturing me, that’s the only explanation for this,” James looked over at you and you shook your head.

“Come on, heart-eyes, you think that lowly of me?”

James couldn’t stop the smile that creeped past his lips, “No, of course not.”

“Good, that means I still have the upper hand,” you moved your head to look back at the TV, but not before James tickled you in retaliation for your words.

It took a moment, but you eventually surrendered and moved your focus back to the movie, still feeling a little warm from your laughter.

You grabbed some of the other candies and snacks from the table, holding a gummy bear up for James to try and he did without so much as a second thought.

“Still have a sweet tooth I see,” you offered him a different candy which he ate again and nodded.

“You don’t want to know how many cavities I’ve had.”

“Here,” you handed him a wrapped treat. “This one’s special from home.”

“Maple candies,” he smiled. “They don’t make ‘em like they do in Montreal.”

“They were your favourite, right?” you asked.

James looked over at you again curiously, “You remembered that?”

“Of course I did,” you shrugged. “Oh wait, look,” you pointed to the TV before grimacing and covering your eyes, but still peeking through your fingers. “Ew!”

James just smiled at you, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to kiss you, the thought bringing a warm sensation to his stomach.

He settled instead on doing what he’d been doing forever: staring at you with heart-eyes.

—

James tried to fight a yawn as he grabbed one of the many books on the shelves in his office, taking it to his couch and sitting down next to you.

“You don’t have to do this, James,” you told him. “You probably have to be back tomorrow morning, you should go home and rest.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he insisted. “You look in here for that article I was telling you about and I’ll start proofreading.”

There were many papers and files strewn around the couch, you couldn’t remember when you first came in, but James never seemed to mind when you worked in his office instead of your own.

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I feel like I brought a tornado in here.”

James looked up from your paper and nodded his head.

“Now hush and let me read.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckled, opening the medical journal he had handed you, flipping through the contents until you found the article title he had mentioned.

James had a pen in his hand, scribbling down annotations on the side, correcting a few typos and grammatical errors.

For the most part, he was able to follow along, but at one point, the words became so incoherent he tapped you to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.

“What does this say here?” he asked. “I-I don’t know if my eyes just stopped working, but what does stirring in sugar and eggs have to do with this trial treatment?”

“Oh my God,” you grabbed the paper and looked at it closer. “I must have accidentally copied some of my mom’s cookie recipe on here before changing documents. What in the world is going on with me?”

Maybe it was the exhaustion settling in or some other things James couldn’t quite pinpoint, but he felt himself letting out a chuckle that grew a little longer, and longer until it was a full blown laugh.

It was an honest mistake, and arguably not that funny, but you’d be hard pressed to convince him of that in that moment, and instead, seeing the silliness of the situation, you joined in.

Eventually, when the laughter died down, you and James both leaning far back against the couch, he turned to you and apologized.

“I’m sorry, I should probably read this when I have a bit more sanity.”

“Don’t be,” you patted his leg. “I can always use a good laugh.”

With your heads still turned to face each other, you suggested to pause the work and resume it another time, to which James agreed.

You both continued to sit there in silence, looking over at each other and James caught a glimmer of something in your eyes and had to blink a few times to make sure it was still there. It was a soft look, a little dazed, like you were happily daydreaming about something far off. It took him a moment to realize it, since he had been the one giving that look, he’d never really had a chance to see it for himself.

You had heart-eyes.

And more importantly, you had them while you were looking at James.

With a sudden boost of courage, fuelled by lowered inhibitions, he started by asking,

“Have I ever told you why my friends call me heart-eyes?”

You tilted your head a little, following his lead and sitting up straight.

“Wasn’t it because of that girl you had a crush on that was from here?”

James opened his mouth and then shut it, shaking his head.

“There was never a girl from Jersey,” he admitted.

“Why would they say it was a girl from Jersey if there was…” as you said the sentence you slowed down, the realization dawning on you.

“All the staring makes a bit more sense now?” he asked.

You blinked a few times, “I just thought you were really awkward,” you said.

“I was, but if the staring didn’t give it away the blushing really should have done it,” he chuckled.

“I thought you had a circulation issue!” you exclaimed and James burst out laughing, of course you did. “God, James, why didn’t you say anything?”

James shook his head, “I could barely string out a coherent sentence when I was around you. Makes it a little hard to say anything.”

“Makes me wish I had said something,” you said, feeling your own cheeks heat up at the admission.

“Y-You would’ve said something?”

Now it was James’ turn to be surprised.

“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first. That’s what you said to me, but that eventually, if it was love, I’d know it.”

You reached out and held James’ hands in your own.

“I should have said something. I could have said something. We could have had so much more-,”

“James,” you whispered, interrupting him and he stopped. “Shut up and kiss me.”

James wasn’t going to waste another second, removing his hands from your to instead gently hold your face, bringing you closer to him so he could finally do what he had been dreaming about since he was 18 years old.

The dim light of his desk lamp, the papers crumpled beneath and around you, the way you moved closer and slid into his lap, his hands now on your hips and your fingers snaking through his hair, it all melted into one and if you let yourselves imagine, just a bit, the lamp became a light in the library; the papers became unfinished homework assignments and lab write-ups, and you hadn’t missed a second of the time you could have spent together.

Your kisses soon turned slow and repetitive and neither of you wanted to pull away, living in the moment like it was your last.

“When…did you realize…you loved me?” you asked between kisses, moving away from his mouth, instead letting your lips find their way across his jaw and up to his temple.

“Our last year of school,” he paused your kisses so he could kiss you properly again. “Carlo said something and-,” he shook his head and sighed. “I realized I was going to leave without you ever knowing how I felt and even though eventually I thought maybe I’d stopped loving you and started to love other people…I just kept trying to fill that space that only you fit in.”

“First year of my master’s for me,” you rested your forehead against his. “Suddenly you weren’t there anymore and I really wished that wasn’t the case.”

He tilted his head up to meet you in another kiss that was far too easy to melt into. Neither of you had any complaints and you knew you’d never get tired looking into his heart-eyes.

@cuntyvicodin

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