#look! free photo space! come take pictures

[katarh-mest]

DO YOU LIKE PHOTO STUDIOS?!

Tabby Trinkets has updated the seasonal café section on the second floor for Hatchingtide! There are also two other levels of photo studio open to the public, including a basement section for gear-centric shots with a dark stage and a white background booth, a permanent toy store section on the second floor next to the cafe, and an upstairs Gridanian themed apartment area.

Open to the public! Visit 6th Ward, Plot 8 in the Goblet on Lamia Server! Crash my studios at any time!

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook can’t sleep, and he can’t stop kissing you either.

> fluff, suggestive / word count: 2.6k

> content/warnings: alexa play seven by jungkook! mentions of s^x, lots and lots of cutie kisses :( they’re in that afterglow <3 oc’s chest is his pillow :(

> in which masterlist!

note: hi hi. here’s ur slice of pure self indulgent fluff 🍰 i just had to write abt this jk :P there’s a reference to in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you 🥹 reblogs & feedback are vv appreciated. i’d love to hear ur thoughts so feel free to scream or laugh or cry <3

—

a fleeting white light passes through your closed eyelids, nearly blinding, as you hear the familiar shutter of your boyfriend’s polaroid camera.

“jungkook,” you whimper weakly due to the sudden disturbance, burying your face on the soft pillows while pushing the camera away.

“shit, shit- sorry, baby-” he winces, guilty of disrupting your journey to slumber, as he scrambles to fix his mistake. “forgot to turn off the flash.”

he places the polaroid face down on the space behind him to give it the time to develop the photo he had taken. much to your relief, the bedroom falls silent once more except for the quiet humming and breathing of the airconditioner. you return to properly laying your head on the pillow, taking a small gasp of oxygen, and jungkook smiles because of how adorable you are for still refusing to open your eyes.

“can i take more pictures?”

“did you turn it off?” you whisper as you stretch your legs to find a more comfortable position, unwittingly pulling down the comforter and exposing your nakedness to the cool air. this gives rise to goosebumps on your skin, causing you to shiver, but your boyfriend is quick to your rescue. he catches the hem before it could slide past your skimpy shorts.

“i did.”

a chaste kiss is planted on your shoulder before it is returned underneath the warmth of soft layers of cotton and fabric.

you sigh, melting back into relaxation. “okay.”

he re-anchors his elbow into the mattress, resting his head on his palm to admire the majestic view of you. jungkook likes this a lot, he lives for it— lying on the bed face-to-face with his sated lover, spending the rest of the night feeling like his heart is not a big enough vessel to hold all the love he has for you. the lights he is yet to turn off have splashed the dark room with a red glow that engulfs your figure as well, escalating his heartbeat, so hypnotic and tantalizing, he finds himself breathing heavier and heavier behind the viewfinder, or maybe he has stopped breathing at all. the shutter briefly fills the silence.

this is… the arch of your back is burned in his mind and he swears he still tastes you on his tongue, but seeing you like this feels so different.

he was consumed by his pleasure and yours just half an hour ago, admittedly almost blinded by his own sweat dripping from his forehead because he simply couldn’t stop wanting more of you, giving himself to you. you weren’t exactly innocent either, with your provocative touches and coquettish smiles, whispering lewd words that was gasoline to the lust flaring up inside of him. he revels in seeing that you’re just as desperate for it as he is, if not more, purely from the way you beseech him with your eyes mirroring stained glass windows. he knows you love it when he fucks you so good it brings you to tears, welcoming the delightful intensity of his nature, and that you were also trying to tire him out so he’d finally feel sleepy, but holy shit, looking at you right now, he wants nothing more but to hold you with utmost gentleness.

wildly concentrated with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth, he brushes away the hair that fell on your face before capturing another exquisite memory to be burned into film.

jungkook is greedy when it comes to you.

a disgruntled whine slips from your mouth when the pillow underneath your head is replaced by his thick arm, which is then rudely cut off by his lips crashing on yours.

clearly, you’ve grown too comfortable in this relationship.

“i love you.” he drunkenly mutters, instantly going for another kiss and barely finishing his another- “i love you.” before he’s kissing you again.

“babe-” you chuckle then gasp, holding on to his wrist as his tattooed hand loosely wraps around your neck.

“i love you. i love you, i love y- i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you.” he repeats himself over and over, the volume of his voice gradually getting quieter as he runs out of breath, until his tongue becomes tied. grounded by the feeling of your steady pulse beneath his thumb, he silences himself by tenderly kissing you, soft lips molding with yours for a wordless declaration of devotion this time around.

pure static— there are no thoughts running in your head. your limbs feel numb but tingly. you feel like you’re floating- no, you’re falling. the bed has turned into an abyss and you’re falling endlessly and jungkook holding you close is the only thing that makes sense. you might have to consider this true heaven, nothingness with your everything, when the whole world is lights-out and quiet that it feels like time has been suspended, and the only way to keep track of it is through each pump of your heart.

at last, your eyelids slowly flutter open as he pulls away, and he greets you with that boyish grin. “pretty.”

his hand on your neck moves to stroke your face lovingly, eyes glimmering with various emotions as they wander your features.

“____ is so, so pretty.”

“hm, really?” you hum sleepily, leaning closer to his touch. “thanks to you.”

“me?” his doe eyes widen in confusion.

“you know, for the afterglow. i feel nice.” you giggle brightly at your own half-joke, positively out of your goddamn mind as you hide your warm face on his shoulder.

“ahhh- ah!”

enlightenment then dawns on your boyfriend.

his giggles blend in with yours for a harmony that strikes the same joy as the sound of wind chimes on a windy day.

jungkook tries not to appear too cocky about the compliment, but consequences be damned, he would die satisfying his lover.

“oh yeah, baby? do you now?” there’s a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face when you take a peek at him, which then morphs into a grin when your eyes meet. “i feel nice, too.”

“nice?” your voice comes out delicate, droopy eyes asking him for confirmation.

“nice.”

he feels a tug at his heartstrings.

“you know what? fucking great… i could never have enough of you.”

it becomes silent for a while. his tattooed hand slides under the comforter, letting his fingers skim across the side of your waist, feather-light touches on your bare skin before he’s pulling you closer to his body.

“i… i don’t doubt that feelings like this can only grow as time goes on but… it’s still amazing that when i think about it, even until now, all the time, i want to be with you.”

he involuntarily breathes out a shaky sigh, ears going red as they do when he’s expressing sincerity from the deepest parts of his soul.

“really, how do you do this…? what is this magic? why- why do i like you so much? i mean, i know why! of course! but, wow!” he squeezes his eyes shut to express his disbelief, clicking his head to the side. “it’s possible for it to be this much? do you get what i’m saying? i just have thoughts like that— love is so fascinating.”

you barely process his words with your brain still in a haze of bliss, but it’s funny, hearing these questions from the same man who has the entire world madly obsessed with him.

oh, this actually sounds familiar. he’s getting all sentimental and philosophical. again. and he’s not drunk. were you that good tonight?

“i won’t give away my secrets just like that. what if you use them on someone else?” you tease him, rubbing your tired eyes and shaking your head as you giggle.

you receive a dirty look from him, clearly offended and uninterested in the thought of putting in the hard effort to impress someone that isn’t you.

“aish, stop talking! i don’t like hearing you talk in that way.”

“then what else am i supposed to do? you’re the one who woke me up.” you retort in annoyance.

but you honestly don’t think there’s any secret to tell. jungkook is in love with you. plain and simple.

“you’re right, i’m sorry. go back to sleep if you want to.”

he dips down to plant gentle pecks on your shoulder, going down on a trail to your neck, and you unconsciously tilt your head to his convenience because he’s bringing the butterflies in your stomach back to life. it feels good, everything he does always feels good.

“you’re seriously not done?” you mumble against his lips, unfaltering with the kisses as if he would run out of them any minute now.

he stubbornly answers with a “no!” as his lips ghost over your cheek.

if only bam was here, jungkook would eventually leave you alone to rest. he would pester him with his late-night burst of affection instead while talking shit about you to your child because you dodged his kiss in your sleep.

“babe, you’re supposed to sleep. you have work later.”

“no, i don’t want to sleep. i… i want to kiss you- baby.” he protests as he continues to pepper your face with kisses, giving your body a particularly tight squeeze when he searches for your lips again.

you blink at him in confusion when he suddenly sends you a look of irritation, eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring.

“you haven’t even said ‘i love you’ back yet.”

“oh, i haven’t?” you wince innocently. “sorry. i love you.”

but he should be the one apologizing to you, since it’s his fault that you still can’t think straight, or walk for that matter.

you pat around the mattress behind his back until you stumble upon the camera, and it’s jungkook’s turn to be your beloved muse. you scoot away until the lens manage to capture him down to his shirtless abdomen. you watch him in complete awe behind the viewfinder. he squints at you, raising his eyebrows flirtatiously, and he smirks when you chuckle in amusement.

“ah wait- take this! take this! you have to take a good one, got it? i worked so hard on them yesterday!” he eagerly voices out a special demand.

he shuffles to flex his arm infront of the camera, showing off his well-defined triceps and biceps while releasing rich, throaty grunts. totally unnecessary, but so achingly jungkook.

your boyfriend is outrageously, ridiculously sexy— he’s still wearing that stupid black headband he hastily put on in the middle of sex because he got pissed off at his hair and he needed it out of the way so he could ‘properly see his love’s beautiful body.’

you roll your eyes inside your head.

what a fucking tease.

nonetheless, you acquiesce.

the flash goes off.

and another polaroid is crafted into existence that you selfishly want to keep for your eyes only.

“baby, let me see.”

“it’s mine!” you scrunch your nose with a childlike charm, hiding the polaroid behind your back.

he chuckles, hopelessly endeared by you.

“yes, i’m yours.” he coos in response.

and your unguarded heart is once again swept away by the taste of his tongue. the camera becomes an abandoned item. your fingers daintily pushes off his headband in favor of freely tangling them with his silky hair, and it also ends up getting lost somewhere in the sheets as his sweet kisses lull you in a false sense of security… because out of nowhere, that same blazing light burns through your closed eyes for the second time tonight.

jungkook playfully waves the polaroid infront of your face, and his toothy grin is met by your unimpressed expression.

“this is mine!”

he has been waiting to jump into this type of opportunity, to orchestrate a romantic moment to be stolen in film— you can tell by the sparkles in his eyes. reminiscent of that one late night in a tiny photobooth where your younger and clueless selves were cramped in, this is what you and his hyungs often talk about, how much you share the same fondness for the fact that jungkook hasn’t changed at all.

“just how many pictures of you kissing me do you need?” you ask him lightheartedly.

he juts out his bottom lip sullenly, and a few beats pass before he forms an answer. “i always need more for when i miss you.”

you copy his frown. “then what about me when i’m missing you too?”

“hmmm… i want you to always remember me like this, baby.” he melodramatically declares as he picks up the one and only polaroid you’ve taken of him tonight. “can you see my abs too…? oh- it’s not showing yet.”

he looks back at you shyly with a laugh, and he places it back down to let it continue developing.

“i’ll look later. i can’t even keep my eyes open anymore. ‘m so tired.” you sadly sniffle to gain his pity, fluttering your damp eyelashes at him. “let’s go to sleep, please?”

jungkook doesn’t find it in himself to articulate a consolation or protest, not when you’re tugging him down to coax him into laying his head on your chest.

“heaven.” he moans, overcome by contentment.

he adjusts himself a bit to be more comfortable before dragging the comforter further upwards to provide warmth for the two of you, all the while refusing to remove his face nuzzled up against you.

“why are you always like this? can you even breathe?” you chuckle with your eyes closed.

“i love your boobs.” his honest reply comes out muffled, cute for some reason, along with his satisfied hums prompted by your nails lightly scratching his scalp.

“i know.”

he turns his head to the side to look up at you, and he carries on to speak with his cheek squished against you. “i really, really mean it.”

“yes, baby. i believe you.”

a minute of silence passes. the ecstasy still flooding your veins becomes a stepping stone in the pond towards your dreamland, where all is either fantastically perfect or horrifically fucked up.

but then you feel sloppy kisses being deliberately scattered in the middle of your chest, leading down to your stomach, and you get rudely knocked over into the cold, clear waters.

yes, plea- oh no, no, no, no.

“jungkook, baby, stop. i can’t go another round.” you whine pathetically, being driven closer to the urge to burst into tears.

“AH! o-ow- ouch- baby, wha- i swear, i wasn’t even planning on it!” he loudly exclaims in surprise when you harshly pull him away by his hair.

“still…” your voice cracks. “you know i’ll get turned on!”

his chuckles are infuriatingly raspy and of no help at all, ego inflating upon hearing your response and the frustration obviously laced with it.

“okay, okay! i’m sorry! i’ll behave now!”

thank god.

he assumes his previous position, the place that he deems to be the warmest and the coziest. as he wraps his arms around your waist, your fist relaxes into an open palm that cradles the back of his head.

“____?” he mumbles, finally feeling the tiredness seep into his sore muscles now that he’s lying motionless.

“hmm?”

“let’s eat dinner outside after work.”

“…meat?”

“and beer!” he adds, brimming with excitement, and he salivates as he can almost taste them in his mouth already. they are his favorite, after all.

“i’ll come pick you up then.” you drop a kiss on his forehead, and he sighs happily. “but go to sleep or else i’ll kick you out of the bedroom again.”

his sweet embrace becomes an iron grip.

cold and alone, he swears those were some of the worst three hours of his life.

he squeaks in defeat. “goodnight, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[hysteria-things]

VEGAS

based off of this

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: while on a trip with chris in vegas, you get a little too excited when you see his new instagram post. you just can’t help yourself.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, teasing, masturbation (female), spanking, p in v, slight choking, hair gripping, semi-public, making out

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,029

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: chat i have mixed feelings about this one😔

❝i’m losing my patience, this ain’t staying in vegas!❞

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

this kid. he has to be doing this shit on purpose now, and nothing pisses you off more. he thinks he’s so fucking clever.

for context, matt and chris came to vegas for justin’s big poker game. you decided to tag along, but currently, the three of them are downstairs in the hotel common area to hang out. wanting to give the boys their own time, you stayed in the suite.

you’re sitting on one of the chairs on the balcony enjoying the city sounds and the night sky until your boyfriend decides to do this.

ah, the rule. it’s simple, yet impossible at the same time. chris set it a while ago when you were acting like a brat, and it stuck from that day on. if you break it, you’ll get punished.

RULE ONE: never touch yourself when he’s not there.

let’s face it. you had your hand down your pants the moment you saw that photo.

not caring if people around can hear or see you, your fingers slide in and out of your dripping hole with ease. you make sure to capture it all, the squelching noise and your moans getting louder the faster your movements go. “chris.” you whine, wishing they were his hands instead of yours.

the shake in your legs gets tenser the closer your high gets. “going to cum for you.” you moan into the phone, biting your lip to silence the scream you want to set free. it doesn’t take long for you to make a mess of your digits, exhaling from relief. you don’t hesitate to send the video to him.

heart beating in anticipation, you hear the front door shut not even minutes after the last message. all you do is stare into space and patiently wait for the person you need most to come outside.

his footsteps get closer before the sliding door opens and closes, your innocent-looking eyes finally meeting his as he walks in front of you. he crosses his arms without saying a word, and you spread your legs to show what he does to you. he licks his teeth, admiring the mess sitting between your thighs.

a trail of cum connects from your pussy to a small puddle beneath you on the chair. from the slickness, it’s practically begging for chris’s cock to abuse your insides.

in the blink of an eye, he grabs your calves to pull you to him. you gasp, him cupping your ass to lift you over his shoulder. he gives you one… two spanks before setting you down against the railing.

pressing hard against your clit with his thumb, he moves it in fast circles. “no teasing, please.” you protest, lolling your head back with a moan.

“you’re the one to tell me to not tease?” he scoffs, now moving his thumb slower up and down. “you’re lucky i’m going easy on you tonight.”

looking down ashamed, his hand wraps around your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. your tongues intertwine, the noise wet. chris swallows your sounds of pleasure.

lips travel down to your neck, licking and biting at your skin. not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to drive you crazy. the erection in his pants nudges at your clit, not helping with the sensation you already have there. his breath is hot on your ear, teeth nibbling at the lobe. “turn around.”

when you do, he grips your hair to bend you over the cold steel, lifting his shirt that you’re wearing. you look down at the pedestrians below, who are completely oblivious to the actions happening above them. cars drive by, some horns honking in the distance.

chris’s pants bunch up on the floor when they meet it, aligning himself at where you are desperate. you gasp when you feel his dick stretch your walls, wrapping tightly around him.

before he’s about to thrust into you, you decide to take matters into your own hands. your hips move up and down, fucking yourself on his cock as you grip tightly on the surface in front of you.

groaning contently, he rests his free hand on the small of your back, giving you a spank here and there. licking his lips, he doesn’t take his eyes off the way you bounce back against his pelvis. the way your ass recoils is mesmerizing.

your moans are soft, lids fluttering closed when your legs start to tremble. because of that, you can barely move yourself anymore. then, you feel a hand wrap around the front of your throat once again, lifting your head to rest on a shoulder. “what were you thinking about, hm?” chris asks, thumb grazing your cheek. “what made you cum that hard?”

eyes opening, you shake your head. his hips thrust slowly, hitting that spot nice and deep. “you’re just so handsome.” you whisper, tears glazing your orbs.

his thrusts get more brutal when he kisses you, silent screams leaving your mouth. clicking his tongue, he leaves a smack on your ass. the stinging makes you accidentally cry out before stopping yourself.

he chuckles. “don’t be shy. let everybody know whose cock you’re screaming on.”

your moans get louder the more he hits your g-spot. you take a look down — where you could’ve sworn you made eye contact with a passerby.

the grip on your hair tightens, his dick throbbing against your clenching walls. you’re about to cum, and he’s not far behind you. the speed of his hips has you on your tippy toes, whimpering loud into the las vegas air. “i’m cumming. fuck, i’m cumming!” you squeal, making a mess down his base.

pulling out, your fluids drip down your legs, chris painting your back white. he lets go of your entire body, immediately almost falling to the ground if the railing wasn’t holding you up. you lean your head over it, trying to catch your breath. he smirks at the view.

after all, he’s been with you long enough to know what your cycle is like. perhaps he did make that instagram post on purpose; just for you. knowing that you’d cave. oh, well.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @sturnlcvr @tpvmz @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings

[gay-dorito-dust]

Dick loves your plushie collection.

He doesn’t find it embarrassing in the slightest! If anything he finds it more offensive that you’d think it embarrassing having plushies as an adult. After he himself has a plush bunny dressed in his nightwing attire -escrima sticks and all- that he won at an arcade game a while back perched on the top of his bed back home.

He calls it dick jr and cuddles it when he has a rough night of crime fighting.

So he’s the last person to ever cast judgment on your plush collection.

If anything he lets his imagination run wild with them and takes full advantage of them. So if the instance came where you weren’t home, Dick would always send you photos and mini videos of him taking excellent care of a plush hare called Sir John Roderick Wellington the third by tucking him in bed at night, pretending to brush his teeth, etc

Or he’d make enact a photo shoot with a couple of them and send the results to you as your left asking where’d he manage to get all sorts of accessories for them…you’re still awaiting the answer to this day. Another thing he’d do with them is take them with him as company while he’s doing mundane chores in the apartment and act as though the plush is helping him.

You were quick to catch on that Dick having a hell of blast with it with how often he spammed your phone with a plethora of photos and videos that kept you up to date with the daily misadventures of your plushy. And yet you weren’t any better either as you kept them all in a album in your phone and are still wondering why your phone keeps informing you that you are running low on space…

Your favourite picture of your plushy was one where Dick had it tucked in bed, a picture of you on its lap, meanwhile Dick’s face could be seen peaking up from the bottom corner of the screen followed by the caption; ‘he misses you and can’t wait for you to come home and cuddle him. Oh and also me. :(

It’s became your Home Screen now and it was the best decision you’ve been made because it never failed to make you smile even on a bad day.

Jason loves it when you wear his clothes.

It’s free therapy for the man seeing you in his clothes and you can quote me on that.

He fucking loved coming home to see you do your own thing while looking all comfortable and relaxed in his shirts or hoodies doing so. For all Jason could ever want for you was for you to feel comfortable with him however you saw fit.

Also it gives him the more reason to stare at you shamelessly, well more than he did already, but you get the point. Jason is a simple man who’s not above letting it known how much he absolutely adores you.

So you wearing his clothes only added onto that adoration that he had for you. No one else could be more perfect in his eyes then you and he stands by that that statement.

‘You look perfect.’ -Jason

‘Jason, I’m wearing sweats and one of your shirts while eating pizza.’ -you

‘Yeah, perfect.’ -Jason

‘Doofus.’ -you, smiling.

Some days Jason would even go out of his way to leave his clothes on your side of the bed as a hint that he wants you to wear it for the day. Other days however he would be outright and blunt with the fact that he’d rather have you in his clothes than your own at this point.

‘Why are you wearing your clothes?’ - Jason

‘Because they’re my clothes and I feel bad wearing all of yours all the time.’ -you

‘Well I on the other hand don’t, take this shirt and go back into our bedroom and change.’ - Jason says as he takes off the shirt he was wearing and hands it to you, uncaring of the fact that he was shirtless in the living room.

‘You’re being dramatic Jason.’ - you as you take the warm shirt from his hands.

‘No I’m not, I just like you in my clothes a lot better than anything else.’ - Jason said, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘You’re getting jealous over clothes now?’ - you asked, raising a brow.

‘Yes.’ Jason responds instantly. ‘Now for the sake of my sanity go back and put my shirt on please.’

You kiss his cheek before leaving for the bedroom to change. ‘If you insist.’

‘I heavily insist chipmunk.’ - Jason says as he watched you walk away before following after to grab another shirt.

Jason loves it when you’re in his clothes. It’s his greatest strength and his greatest weakness.

[sturnwh0re]

*~ PHOTO BOOTH ~*

* C.S. *

——————————————

——————————————

contains: reassurance, pet names, P in V, grinding, make out, dirty talk, overstimulation, cumming, sneaky, covering mouth.

description: you and your boyfriend, Chris, we’re at a festival. You guys were walking around and found a Photo Booth! You have seen all of those cute Pinterest photos on where you take Photo Booth pictures with your boyfriend, but Chris had other ideas..

You and Chris were holding hands while at the festival. It was a festival that happened every summer and it was opened for a month. You and him decided to go and it was amazing!

I was squeezing his hand and I had glanced over at a Photo Booth. I had brushed it off barely for a second before looking back at it. A Photo Booth! “Baby! Wanna take Photo Booth photos?” I smiled eagerly while basically jumping up and down.

Chris chuckled and rolled his eyes while looking down at me. “Sure ma, let’s go.” He said smirking as we made our way over to the Photo Booth. I was basically dragging him along with me. I had his hand and was running over to the Photo Booth, making him jog behind me.

“Damn babe slow down! It’s not going anywhere.” Chris chuckled at how eager I was to take photos in a Photo Booth with him. We had finally made it to the Photo Booth. Since it was dark outside, nobody was at the Photo Booth.

I had dragged him inside and sat him on the Photo Booth bench inside of the machine. I closed the curtain and sat on his lap because there wasn’t much room. I felt chris jolt up and squeeze my hips.

“Fuck— be careful.” He growled “don’t start something you won’t finish.” He let vibrate through his neck. There was heavy desire in his voice that filled the Photo Booth.

I felt butterflies fill up my stomach as I was too rough on his lap. I felt his bulge grow harder under me until it was basically impailing me through my shorts. “O-okay.. for our first pose let’s just kiss. Okay?” I said grabbing Chris’ face as the timer started to count down for our photo.

I looked back at Chris to see his smirk tug at his lips. I brought him im for a gentle kiss but he wanted more than that. As I let my lips lay on his I felt him grip the back of my neck and squeeze my waist as he deepened the kiss.

He dug his tongue between my lips demanding entry as he explored and licked along my teeth. He let the kiss get heavily and sloppier as our tongues and mouths were clashing together.

The timer on the Photo Booth was still taking pictures of these moments I broke the kiss as I was heavily breathing already “baby the Photo Booth is still goin—“ I was cut off by his raspy tone.

“Eyes on me ma. Focus on me.” He said as he clashed our mouths again sloppily. Butterflies rushed up and down my body as well as his free hand. He let his one hand run up and down my waist. He then paused his hand and removed his other hand from the back of my neck.

He kept our lips pressed together and our tongues intertwined but he held my hips down into him as he started to grind me through his clothes. His grunts filled up extra space in my mouth that his tongue didn’t and heavy desire filled the photo booth.

He kept grinding into me before he broke the kiss and grunted. “Fuck.. fuck. I need you right now.” He was fiddling with the belt of his jeans eagerly and was begging his hands to hurry up.

He looked back up at me and looked me up and down. “Don’t waste any time ma. Come on. Take it off.” He said in his deep voice that was covered and laced with his own fantasies.

I obeyed him and started to fiddle with my own shorts as I slipped them off. He took them from me and threw them on the floor of the photos booth. He was left in his boxers and I was left in my panties.

He grabbed my waist and pulled me onto him as he slipped his rock hard flesh out. He started to stroke himself as he pulled my panties to the side. He chuckled at seeing how wet I already was. He stopped stroking himself and licked his 2 fingers before rubbing them against my clit.

“You’re already so wet.. wet for me.. yeah?” He growled through the thickened air. “Tell me. Who ya’ wet for ma?” He said starting to rub my clit faster making me gasp. He still held his smirk on his face knowing he loved to see me unfold like this.

“Ngh— you.. you..!” I said breathing heavier and shutting my eyes and squeezing them together. I felt his fingers finally stop and I finally caught my breath and air again.

“good fucking girl.” He rumbled as he slapped his hardened cock against my wet pussy making wet slapping noises. “Now.. you wouldn’t want people to hear us, yeah?” Chris whispered against my neck.

“No.. no baby..” I whined quietly. I needed him so fucking badly in every way and I’d be a whiney and bratty mess until he was stuffed inside of me.

“then let’s be quiet. Can you do that for daddy?” We said slowly slipping his cock inside of my tight and wet shaft. He let out low grunts but stayed quiet.

“mmh— y-yes..” I lightly whined against his shoulder. I felt his flesh fill me up so well. He was made for me. He slowly bounced my ass up and down at a pace where I could stay quiet.

“Yeah.. just like that..” he grunted through the air. I was already struggling to stay quiet as he slowly but deeply thrusted into me. He thrusted up into me meeting my movements. I was trying my best to stay quiet as I covered my mouth with his shoulder and moaned into it.

“N-ngh. Mmm..” I was already struggling to obey what he wanted from me, but he was too good at this. His words were enough to make me cum right there. I felt his cock push against my g spot making me squeal into his shoulder again.

“Atta’ girl..” he grunted out as he let his head lean against the wall behind the booth. He had started to thrust up into me faster while also slamming my hips down faster. He was sliding in and out of my cunt with ease as I was already a mess on top of him.

I had started to let out louder noises that I couldn’t hold back and he used one of his hands to put on the back of my head as he closed his eyes “shh… quiet..” he said keeping his fastened pace. I felt a knot in my stomach tighten as I felt my legs start to also tremble.

I whispered in his ear “I— can’t.. p-please.” It had turned into a moan that tickled his ear. My legs continued to tremble as I used every bone in my body not to yelp out his name right there. The knot in my stomach continued to tighten and tighten.

“Yes you can.. you can handle it.” He reassured me. He kept at his pace as he started to grunt and groan more frequently, getting harder to keep himself quiet. His sack was starting to tighten up towards him.

I felt him start to slam into my cervix harshly and without mercy. I was breathless and now just squealing as me slammed into me. “Cm’on girl… almost there..” he growled out loud.

He thrusted faster into me at an even more punishing pace. I wasn’t able to keep quiet anymore. “F-FUUUUCKK..!” I yelped out. Chris so was so focused on cumming he didn’t correct my behavior. He let out one more grunt before burying himself deep inside of me and unleashing himself, which also released that knot in my stomach.

“Y-YES..” he grunted out as he held my hips onto him. And cummed deep inside of my womb. He held us both there as he stopped thrusting and just let us both catch our breathes. “You did so beautifully ma.” He said brushing the hair from my face.

I let my eyes flutter open as my chest rose and fell. “Mm-mhm.” I let out lazily. We heard the photo booth one last time.

“ 3, 2, 1, smile “

and we heard the camera clicking sound.

——————————————

[asterr1sk]

no space between us

⊹₊ ⋆ kang taehyun wc: 701 genre: fluff, secret relationship, jealousy a/n: thank you to the anon who requested this. i was giggling so much at the end.

you've been in a relationship with taehyun for months now. it was difficult to keep it low knowing that your friends are basically his friends too. there were some instances where they almost found out, but they guessed that you were just close friends.

all of you went out to the mall and did some shopping. taehyun obviously stuck around you while the others were trailing behind.

"hey, guys! we should get lunch." yeonjun called out to both of you, and they walked closer. "maybe we can eat chinese food," he suggested.

"but i'm craving japanese food right now~" beomgyu countered.

"oh! me too! i want katsudon!" you exclaimed as you grinned at beomgyu. "two versus one!" he said proudly.

"i'm fine with any," soobin said while the other two nodded. "sure, let's go," yeonjun said as he was defeated. you and beomgyu high-fived at each other and started to think of restaurants.

the group finally arrived and ordered food. taehyun can't help but observe how the waiter looked at you differently. maybe he was just seeing things. the food came, and everyone began to eat their food. you noticed that your drink still hadn't come, unlike the others, so you asked the waiter. taehyun saw how enthusiastic the waiter was when talking to you.

"sorry, miss. i forgot," he said, placing the glass on top of a folded napkin. "it's okay," you said, smiling lightly. taehyun, on the other hand, was questioning why your napkin was folded compared to theirs.

the napkin underneath your drink was bothering you because it wasn't balancing the glass. you took it off and unfolded it, seeing what was written. "sorry again for the drink. this was not planned, but i took it as a chance to give you my number. call me xxxxxxxxx :)"

soobin sitting beside you, was being nosy and saw what was written. "oh, a guy is hitting on y/n." he said teasingly, and immediately everyone kept bugging you except for one.

"y/n, for the love of god, get a boyfriend!" beomgyu begged. "will y/n finally break free of the friendzone curse?" kai added while wrapping his arm around beomgyu's, looking like they were praying.

"you guys really have no shame, huh?" your heart was beating fast. not that they were teasing, but you don't know how to react. you tried not to stare at taehyun, hoping not to make this situation worse if someone were to ask what as going on between you two. he was weirdly quiet in this situation.

"i'm sure taehyun would be fine knowing his friend is happy, right?" yeonjun teased, and they continued on. the atmosphere was getting tense. taehyun was still not reacting much, but seeing that he had paid for the dinner, he wanted to get out of that place.

the day went on, but taehyun was walking closer to you than ever. thank god, they still don't question it. kai then saw a photo booth and wanted to take pictures with everyone. all of you were squeezed together in the booth.

they were bickering and complaining with each other, trying to find comfortable positions before taking a photo. since they were too busy, you and taehyun were in a different world.

"tyun, are you okay with that whole thing at the restaurant? i'm sorry that i didn't do-" he cut you off. "it's fine. i decided we should tell the others," he whispered.

"okay, i'll press the button. are you ready?" soobin said, and the timer was starting.

3 2 1... you and taehyun put cat ears on each other.

"another one!" yeonjun shouted.

3 2 1... you pinched taehyun's cheek while he was cupping yours.

"wait! i'll do this pose. beomgyu, do it with me." kai was posing, and beomgyu copied him.

3 2 1... taehyun put a half heart and you jokingly put a thumbs up next to his.

"let's do this together. come on!" yeonjun gave an example, and everyone followed.

3 2 1... taehyun kissed your cheek.

the other four immediately looked at the preview. you looked at taehyun wide-eyed while you heard screaming at the back. he pulled you in closer and kissed you properly on the lips.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (26/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Burning things is a good way to get rid of stuff. But perhaps you and Charles have more in common than you like.

Warnings: this is quite angsty (mentions of cheating, Annika and Raphael), fire (of course), some fluff

Word Count: 4.2k

series masterlist

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A/N: this is a long one. but well, I felt like it. there are some Easter eggs in this chapter, tell me which one you found! feedback is appreciated (as always, please and thank you!)

Since your newly purchased items have not made it any further into the apartment than the hallway, Charles' bedroom looks pretty empty. There are three large boxes next to the door, which gradually fill up the longer you stay in the room. 

"What about this?" you ask Charles and show him a pink candlestick that was recently on the windowsill. 

Your roommate pulls his head out of the closet. "Throw it away."

"Okay." You try not to trip over anything as you walk over to the door and place the item in the left box, which already contains a vase and empty picture frames. As you straighten up again, a shirt flies past your face before landing in the right box.

"Sorry," Charles mumbles, without taking his eyes off the clothes in front of him. 

"It's all right." You glance at the chest of drawers against the wall. "What about this?" you ask, pointing to the few books arranged by size on the dark wood. 

Charles sighs. "Just assume you can throw away everything in this room." Another item lands in the box on the right. 

Unsure, you bite the inside of your cheek.

The idea was to get all the stuff Annika left in the bedroom out of the apartment and - if possible - burn it in Jori's fire bowl, in the hope that Charles can have closure. The box on the left is for things that can't easily be turned into ashes, such as picture frames, candlesticks or small, empty flower pots. The middle one is for things Annika couldn't pack in her haste, like jewelry, clothes, electronics. She would come to collect them at some point. 

The box on the right is for flammable things. The pictures from photo frames, books, tickets from events the couple attended together - and the clothes Charles throws in. And it looks like they're his. 

"Can I ask why you're throwing away your clothes?" you ask timidly as you sit down on the bed. You run your fingers over the soft fabric, which will also end up in the right-hand box later. 

Charles pushes some empty hangers aside before taking a jacket off the hanger. "Everything in this room is from when Annika and I were a couple." He shows you the jacket. "I was wearing this the first time we went to the racetrack together. Our first public appearance as a couple." He throws the jacket towards the door before grabbing the next item - a sweater. "I wore this one on the first Valentine's Day. We went out for dinner and then to the movies."

You purse your lips. "And you want to get rid of all these memories? Even if they are nice ones?"

The sweater lands on the jacket before Charles turns to you and looks at you for the first time since you walked into this room. "That woman cheated on me. Took advantage of my trust and broke it." His gaze is rock hard. "Whoever she was to me, she doesn't deserve to have her memories here. I want to put it all behind me. I want to be free."

You see a sad glint in his eyes, which you don't address. Instead, you get up from the bed and begin to sort out everything that's still lying around into the boxes, while Charles pulls one item of clothing after another out of the closet. 

Apart from a little rustling and your footsteps, the room is silent. You want to give Charles his space, give him the peace and quiet he needs to sort out his thoughts and really come to terms with the relationship. The fact that he has asked you to help him with this warms your heart. Because even though you've only known each other for a short time, he's the person you care most about. The person you would run to immediately if your life went down the drain. The person you can tell everything to without being judged. 

You seem to be that person for Charles too - the person he can trust without having to worry, the person who would help him bury a body - this feeling warms you from the top of your head to the soles of your feet. 

"I think that's it," Charles finally interrupts the silence and closes the now empty closet behind him while you remove the cover from one of the two pillows. His gaze wanders from your face to your hands. "You don't need to do that. We'll put the bedding in a big bag and then it can all go."

"Are you sure?" you ask uncertainly, but put the pillow back on the bed. 

"Very sure. I don't want to sleep in a bed she slept in or cover myself with a blanket she slept under. I just want to put it behind me."

"Okay." You walk around the bed and put in the clothes that missed the box. "Which car do we take? My Renault is still at the old place and your Ferrari won't fit the stuff." Besides, it would be too conspicuous and you don't want us to be seen in it together.

"There's an old car of my brother's downstairs in the garage. It's bigger than the Ferrari," he calls out from the hallway, where he's rummaging around in one of the cupboards before entering the bedroom again. In his hand he holds a huge blue plastic bag from a Swedish furniture store. "If that's not enough, I've got another one."

It's not enough. The bedding actually has to be divided into three different bags until the bed is empty except for the mattress. As Charles stands at the front door, one bag on each shoulder and a box - containing the last bag - in his hands, he peeks past it. "Can you open the door for me, please? I'd like to take the things downstairs."

As packed as he is, you have to stifle a grin. The Monegasque looks like a pack mule. "You can walk several times, you know that? Then you won't be straining your shoulders."

Your flatmate blows a strand of hair out of his forehead. "No way. I'd rather fall down the stairs before I have to walk twice."

As you open the door and press the elevator button for him, you just shake your head. "Then it's a good thing there's an elevator here. You'll still have to go a second time."

While Charles takes the things to the underground garage, you put the other two boxes by the front door before you go in search of another large bag. As Charles has already used all the available bags from the hall cupboard, you have no choice but to take a bin liner from the kitchen. As you hear him grab the second box, you poke your head out of the kitchen. 

"I'll bring the other box in a minute. You can wait downstairs by the car, okay?"

"All right," he replies and puts the box on his hip. "It shouldn't be that heavy. It's just the picture frames and stuff in there." He smiles at you. "See you in a bit then. But hurry up."

You roll your eyes, which makes him laugh before he disappears with the box in his hands. When you're alone, you walk from the kitchen into the living room, where the red roses that Charles must have forgotten are still on the white piano. You carefully put them in the bag, taking care not to tear the thin plastic, and then tie it up before dragging the bin bag into the hallway and putting it in the box.

The roses make the box much heavier than expected and when you arrive a few minutes later, panting, in the underground parking garage where Charles is already waiting to meet you, you are glad when he takes it off your hands. 

"What's in there?" he asks, pointing to the bag after placing the box in the trunk of the silver car.

You shrug your shoulders. "I found this. We can burn it if you like," you simply reply and drop into the passenger seat while Charles closes the trunk. 

The drive to Joris is shorter than expected and although it's not too late, the sky is already turning red, as if the sun is about to set. There's some song on the radio that you don't know and Charles isn't humming along to. As he finally steers the car through the familiar narrow alley and then pulls on the handbrake in a parking lot, the front door opens and Joris enters the courtyard. 

"Hello, you two," he greets you as you get out of the car. While he shakes Charles' hand, he presses a kiss to your cheek, first on the left and then on the right. "You said on the phone that you wanted to burn something?" He rubs his hands together excitedly. 

Your roommate nods and opens the trunk. "Not only that." He takes one of the boxes - the one with Annika's belongings - and hands it to his buddy. "I'd like to leave them here, if that's possible. I don't want to see Annika again and I'd be incredibly grateful if you could give her her things back."

"Of course," he replies and takes a look in the trunk. "What about this?" With a nod, he points to the box with the picture frames. 

"This," Charles begins the sentence before grabbing the box and walking over to one of the garbage containers that must belong to Jori's house. Without giving it much thought, he dumps the contents into the garbage can before rejoining you to take the three bags of bedding and throwing them into the container as well. "'Is garbage. We'd like to burn the rest that's left there."

"The firewood and fuel are already ready."

The boys carry the things upstairs and you follow them. When you arrive at Jori's apartment, you close the door behind you while Joris puts the box with Annika's things in a room and Charles walks towards the rooftop terrace. You open the door for him and he smiles gently at you as he walks past you towards the fire bowl, which already has some wood in it. 

A little later, Joris joins you, a small canister of gasoline in his hand. "You'll need this. Please don't burn yourselves. I've got a quick online meeting coming up and no time to drive you to the hospital." 

"Thanks, man. I appreciate that," says Charles as he takes the burning liquid from his buddy's hand. As Joris disappears, Charles pulls an outdoor couch sitting in a corner near the fire bowl. "In case it takes longer. Then we don't have to stand the whole time."

While Charles lights the wood, you take the garbage bag with the roses out of the box and put it next to the couch. "Would you like something to drink?"

Charles looks up from the small flame snaking around one of the logs. "There should be cans of Coke in the fridge. And there should be some sweets in the cupboard in the living room." When you look at him in astonishment, he grins. "Go ahead and help yourself. Joris has already eaten my entire fridge once when he was drunk."

"Okay." You leave him alone on the roof terrace and go searching. You actually find the cans in the fridge, two of which you take and put on the living room table so you can rummage through the cupboard for something sweet. You find fruit gums, some chocolate - which you probably shouldn't bring anywhere near a fire - and a bucket of popcorn, which you tuck under your arm. 

When you return to Charles with your hands full, he laughs. 

"What?" you ask, confused, as he takes the bucket from you. "You told me to help myself. And that's what I did."

"That's right." He motions for you to sit down on the sofa. As he sits down next to you, he nudges his knee against yours. He opens his can of Coke and you do the same. "Here's to the future." He holds his can out to you.

You clink glasses with him. "To the future."

After a few minutes, the fire burns brightly and warms you on this beautiful winter evening and Charles pokes around in the wood with a poker, which apparently belongs to the fire bowl, before grabbing the box and placing it between you on the couch. The fact that there's this physical distance between you both bothers you more than it should. 

"Two years for nothing," Charles says as he pulls out the first picture. It shows him and Annika lying on the beach and smiling at the camera. He throws it into the fire. "For nothing, for absolutely nothing."

"Don't say that." You watch as the flames engulf the photo. "You learn from relationships. No matter how long they last."

He throws a piece of paper into the bowl. It looks like a concert ticket. "And what have I learned? How to be cheated on without realizing it? I definitely didn't need to learn that." His tone is cold.

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. When you take your eyes off the fire and look at him, his features are soft. He looks hurt. You purse your lips. "How did you find out?"

"I caught them." As you stare at him open-mouthed, he shrugs. " I was actually planning on flying from race to race, but my gut told me to fly back home." He has to swallow. "When I walked through the front door, there were already shoes there that weren't mine. And when I walked towards the bedroom, I heard them."

You raise an eyebrow. "They were doing it in your bed?" No wonder he doesn't want to keep the bedding or the bed. 

He nods weakly and throws one of his shirts into the fire. "I knew exactly what was behind the door and yet it broke my heart when I actually saw it. It wasn't much, but enough to know that it could never have been that 'it's not what it looks like' thing."

You hand him two plane tickets, which he throws away without looking at them. "And then?"

"She wanted to talk to me, begged me to stay with her and said how sorry she was. But I didn't want to hear any of it. I just turned around and left. I couldn't look her in the eye."

"I can understand that," you answer him quietly. 

"I think if I had really loved her the way you do in relationships, I would have thrown her out of the apartment straight away. But when I left and created distance between us, I racked my brains as to why she did that. And it was all over the internet that a lot of people do it because they feel neglected by their partner and are looking for closeness with someone else."

"And that's why you felt so bad that you allowed her to continue living there?" He nods. Another couple of photos land in the flames and catch fire. "Did you know the man?"

He shakes his head in response. He fixates on a burning log as if he doesn't want to look at you. When he does, his gaze is full of the kind of pain and hatred you've only ever seen on his face once before. As you remember the situation, your heart breaks. For both of you. 

When you answer him, your voice is no louder than your breath. "It was Raphael."

Your stomach clenches so tightly that you feel like throwing up. That's how Charles knew where Raphael worked. Something you've forgotten until now. Something is pounding behind your eyes and it's only when a tear runs down your cheek that you realize you're crying. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." Charles' voice is soft and through the veil of tears you see his hand twitch, as if he's struggling to take you in his arms and comfort you. But there's this stupid box between you. And you've never felt so lonely. 

"Y/N..."

"Don't," you say quietly and without thinking about it, you reach into the box between you, grab everything you can with one hand and throw it into the fire in front of you. You watch as Annika's face burns. You throw a second handful into the fire bowl. This time it's his jacket. "That bastard."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'd rather kill them both."

A faint smile spreads across Charles' face. "I'm afraid that's not possible. Although I've thought about it before. But I'm afraid that I won't be able to drive my super-fast car if I'm behind bars."

"What if I take over for both of us?" 

"I think the prison clothes would look good on you, but the visiting hours are definitely a pain in the ass and I couldn't stand not seeing you every day," he says gently and reaches for the now empty box, which he now places on the floor next to the couch. Then he pulls you into his arms. And from now on, it's not the fire in front of you that warms you. 

You stare into the fire for a while, feeling Charles' arm around your waist and his cheek on the top of your head. "Are you going to tell me what's in that garbage bag?" 

"Oh." You straighten up, dumbfounded, and lean over the backrest to pick up the bin bag. As you turn back to Charles, his gaze quickly flickers back to your face. "This morning - after your mother visited - we were sitting together in the living room and you couldn't stop staring at the piano. But it wasn't the piano, was it?"

He shakes his head and as you untie the knot of the bag, he takes a peek inside. "I'd totally forgotten about that just now." 

"That's what I thought. That's why I brought them." You pull out the letters of roses and place them next to you on the couch before handing him the first one. While he throws the first rose into the fire, you open the bucket of popcorn and snuggle up to his side again. 

"Annika gave it to me for our second anniversary," he explains, before opening his mouth and looking at you expectantly. As you pop a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth, he grins at you. You ignore the fact that your fingers are tingling where they touched his lips: "I don't even like roses. I think they're too hackneyed and the most unimaginative thing you can give someone to show that you love them."

"So a gift without really making an effort," you continue his thought. "And what are your favorite flowers?"

When he looks at you, his gaze is warm and there's a sparkle in his eyes that you can't quite put your finger on. "Peonies."

You feel the warmth shoot into your cheeks and turn your gaze away from him. He throws more roses into the fire and you continue to pop popcorn into both of your mouths as the flowers burst into flames in front of you. You hope that this action is as cleansing for him as it is being said all over the internet. You hand him the second letter, which he can burn in peace, before standing up and taking his empty Coke can. "I guess you need a new one?" 

His grin is wide. "Yes, please."

You disappear into the kitchen, where you leave the can on the counter and take a new one from the fridge. As you go back to Charles, you bump into Joris, who is just coming out of one of the rooms. "How did your online meeting go?"

"Pretty good," he replies and walks past you into the kitchen to take another can from the fridge. You stop in the doorway. "It was just about familiarizing myself with my new job, which I start in the New Year."

"That's right," you reply and raise your eyebrows. "You said you'd been offered a job. Are you already looking forward to it?"

"Very much. I can hardly wait," he replies as you walk towards the living room. You can watch Charles through the window as he continues to set the roses on fire. "Was that your idea? With the whole burning thing?"

You nod. "Yes. I burned my ex-boyfriend's things too when I found out he'd cheated on me. Only I didn't have a big fire bowl."

"Then where did you do it?"

You shrug your shoulders. "In the kitchen sink."

Joris has to laugh before he nudges yours with his shoulder. "Your friendship is good for him. He's never opened up to anyone as quickly as he did with you. I'm starting to think I need to worry that you're taking my place as his best friend."

"Haha. You two have known each other for ages. I don't think I could ever get in the way, even if I wanted to." You have to smile. "But Charles is definitely my best friend. There's nothing I wouldn't want to share with him."

"It's nice to hear that you're good for each other." He smiles at you. 

"Do you want to come outside?" you ask him as you walk to the patio door. 

Joris waves you off. "You go and do your cleansing thing. But please don't burn down the sofa. That's sacred to me."

You stick your tongue out at him and grab the blanket hanging over the back of a chair before returning to Charles, who has now reached the last letter. You hand him the Coke and spread the blanket over your knees. The sun has set, but the fire in front of you is so bright that you have no problem seeing his beautiful face. 

"Do you think she would have cheated on me too if I had been a better boyfriend?" Charles asks quietly at one point, without looking at you. 

"I don't know."

He thinks for a moment. "She said that everything in my life revolves around Formula One. That I don't notice what's going on around me. And that I was never there for her like a boyfriend should be. And that she had to share me with the whole world." As he turns to you, you see tears glistening in his eyes. "You said you were sure there was someone out there for me who wouldn't find my job too hectic. Who will support me no matter how hard it gets."

You turn to him and put your hand to his cheek to make him look at you. A tear rolls down his cheek and you wipe it away with your thumb. "I have. And I mean it."

He licks his tongue over his lips. "You also said that there's a person out there for everyone. A soulmate with whom you can share everything. With whom you don't have to pretend and can be who you really are." You feel his arms wrap around your middle and before you know it, you're sitting in his lap. 

You wrap your arms around his neck so you can hold him tight. 

"So you think there's someone else out there for me? That I haven't missed my chance at love?" You feel his warm breath on your face and how much you want to kiss away the tears that escape his eyes. Take away all his pain. Show him how much he means to you. 

But now is not the right time. Someday. Maybe.

"I promise you that." 

You watch him throw the last rose into the fire. In an instant, the red blossoms catch fire, the stem begins to glow and before you know it, this last piece from a time Charles wants to forget at all costs disappears and turns to ash. 

His grip on you tightens. A sign for you to turn towards him. When you look at him, his cheeks are wet, but he doesn't look sad. The smile on his face is honest and genuine and so loving that you can't help but return it. 

He would love to put his hands on your face and kiss you until you can't breathe. To feel your lips on his, your skin on his and tell you how important you are to him. How much he craves you and that everything he feels for you goes beyond the limits of friendship. But the only thing he does is grab your hand with his and squeeze it twice. Maybe you'll understand. Understand why he always squeezes twice. 

The right time will come. Someday. Maybe. 

When you look at him, with tears in your eyes and a warmth that makes his heart stumble, he has to swallow. He's never been as grateful to anyone as he is to you. 

"I'm free."

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | two.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 4.3k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, very much giving slow burn till chapter 5 (sawwie hehe but san/oc drop more hints in ch 3-4), mingi tryna be matchmaker but san's mind is elseeewhere (which will add a lil more spice to the spice thats already planned lol), flashback scene that involves crying & hints of infidelity

"Wow, there's a lot more people here than I expected." You tippy-toe to look over the crowd, falling in line to get your freebies at the entrance of the winter quarter welcome event.

"Do you know where the boys are at?"

"They said they were coming?" Eunchae says, also looking around and over the crowd. The line inches quickly, bringing you closer to the free university-branded hats and water bottles they were giving out. Today's event was not only to set the tone for the quarter, but to showcase all the student groups, benefits, and wellness programs available for everyone. As soon as you grab your freebies, you, Eunchae and Jurin completely forget about the boys making their way over and start walking around to grab more. You find that one of the student groups is handing out reusable bags, which you gladly take one in order to walk around comfortably. You, Jurin and Eunchae also participate in a few small games and raffles, taking pictures at the photobooths set up. Some university staff snap photos of you three while you wait in line to cash in your free lunch voucher at one of the food trucks. 

Once you've grabbed your food and settled down, the three of you find a good space on the lawn near the stage to slowly indulge in your food and the dessert. Namjoon is getting ready to start his speech for the event, while the other professors set to give a small talk are hovering off to the side engaging in conversation.

"Yo! Is anyone listening?" Professor Kim Namjoon, department chair of bioengineering, taps the mic a few times as he steps on the stage. He slowly paces around with a hand in his pocket, giving off a smile while he waits for everyone near the stage to quiet down and listen to his little speech. "Nice, nice. I'm grabbing attention, I still got it." He chuckles to himself. "Anyway, they had me come up here to kick off the welcome event. There's a good lineup of talks coming up, so please stick around for that. I promise it'll be worthwhile." Namjoon points to San. "Choi San is on the lineup. Kang Yeosang. Just to name a few. I know ya'll wanted to hear that in particular." He jokes. The crowd laughs when he gives everyone a certain look, scanning the crowd to read their expressions. "Alright, so another quarter—" Is how he starts his speech off, giving himself two minutes to give a heartwarming welcome to all the students, faculty and staff. The next session kicks off shortly after, with a few faculty members talking about their early days in their departments and what they're focusing on now. 

After Namjoon wraps it up, he introduces San and kicks it off for him— giving him a big, warm smile as he greets him on the stage and hands him the mic. He's dressed in a thick, black half-zip sweater, black slacks and boots. You briefly glance around the crowd, all eyes glued to Professor Choi; lots of people looking at him in pure admiration just like you and your friends. His talk flows well, and he easily transitions from talking about his early career days to where he is now and what his focus is. He speaks with so much poise and grace, it's obvious he's incredibly passionate about what he does. He has a softness to him, a certain glint in his eyes while he slowly paces the stage and maintains contact with his crowd. 

"He's so fucking dreamy, are you kidding?" Eunchae mumbles. You giggle and gently nudge her before returning your attention to the stage. Your eyes glance over to the side, smiling to yourself as Namjoon plays around with everyone around him. Professor Lee Iseul stands off to the side next to her husband, and they quietly remain to themselves. She watches as San does his talk, arms folded tightly against her chest and she couldn't look any more disinterested. You clearly don't know the full story, and it's definitely none of your business. But, you can't help but be a little curious as to what happened between her and Professor Choi and why she acts the way she does around him.

"Aye." Felix plops down next to you. "Where have you been, loca?" You snort, pushing him and causing him to almost fall to the side. "Ouch. We've been calling and texting!"

"Next time, don't be late." Jiung plops down next to him.

"We were trying to find the free smoothies and acai bowls!"

"Excuse me?" Jurin looks at Jiung. "Why didn't I know about this?!"

"Maybe cause you were too busy drooling over Professor Choi and his friends." Jurin sticks her tongue out at him. "It's over there. We just didn't get to it before coming to the lawn."

"I'm definitely going as soon as these talks are over." 

"I want some, too!" Eunchae adds.

"We can go." You chime in.

"We're gonna lose you guys again!" Felix slightly whines.

"You won't! You can just sit here and save our spot." Eunchae smiles with some sass. "That way, we have our spots and you won't lose us."

"Fine." Felix clicks his teeth before returning his attention to the stage. The rest of the talks also go well— Yeosang taking the stage next after San, with a few other professors. Iseul does a talk, and although San doesn't care much for it, he at least tries his best to show some support in front of the crowd and be the bigger person.

He does it to just keep the peace. Mainly for Namjoon. San knows he did a lot to try and bury all the mess that went down, even got in trouble for trying to do so. Namjoon cares about San and his other friends, he'd do anything to protect them. But yes, there is no denying that it was a shit show. 

Once all the talks have concluded, you, Eunchae and Jurin scurry off to the smoothie and acai booth, taking the boys' orders to kill two birds with one stone. The lawn and surrounding areas are back to being loud and chaotic with everyone trying to go around and finish grabbing freebies and samples, and participate in other games. You and your friends fall in line and wait for about 15 minutes before they've taken your orders, another 10 minutes before they've given you your drinks.

"Oh shit, this is good." Jurin sips on her drink as it sits in the carrier with Felix's and Jiung's. 

"It is. The boys finally have a good eye." You snort.

"Leave them be."

"What! It's true! I didn't think they'd care much for the stuff here at the event, but here they are, putting on their favorite girls to free smoothies." You laugh, sipping on your own matcha smoothie. Once Eunchae has gotten her drink, the three of you start to make your way back towards the boys on the lawn.

"Oop—" You let out a small squeal, damn near coming face to face with Professor's Choi's chest when you turn. He's about to grab his own smoothie from the worker when you quite literally almost run into him trying to keep up with Eunchae and Jurin. "Oh, I'm sorry Professor Choi." You feel the heat rise to your cheeks even though you didn't do anything wrong.

"No worries. Good morning, ladies." Professor Choi flashes you, Eunchae and Jurin that 100-watt, dimpled smile that everyone is crazy head over heels for. He does a curt bow to acknowledge you and your friends properly, Eunchae and Jurin biting on their bottom lips to prevent themselves from smiling too big and giggling too loud. "How are you doing?"

"Good. Really good. Great talk, by the way!" Eunchae says, making him chuckle at her reaction. "How are you doing?"

"Aw, thanks. I'm good, can't complain. You guys having a good start to the quarter already?"

"I'd say so, yeah. Can't complain either." Jurin adds, holding onto the drink tray tightly. He nods, but turns his direct attention to you with a small smile. "Y/N. Excited to meet next week and talk about projects."

"I am, too." His eyes linger on yours for a little longer and Eunchae doesn't miss it. She gives your arm a good, subtle [but hard] squeeze— one that has you slightly squirming in her grip while trying to maintain eye contact with Professor Choi. He furrows his brows a bit when he catches it, trying his best not to chuckle at the way you and your friends are acting around him.

"Yo!" Mingi says, patting San's shoulder. His eyes go from him to the three girls in front, still lingering around. "Beautiful morning, ladies! Hope you're enjoying the event." 

"Hi Professor Song." You all say dreamily, watching as the taller man chuckles and bounces to the music playing. 

"Sorry to have to do this, but mind if I steal Professor Choi from you?"

"Go for it!" You respond. "See you next week, Professor Choi." You smile sweetly at him and he swears he feels his knees buckle a bit. He watches as the three of you turn and squeal, definitely talking about them as you continue to walk away and find other things to distract yourselves with.

"What's new?" Mingi laughs, making San chuckle.

"Stop it. They're just enjoying themselves." Mingi gives him a look that screams 'sure, whatever you say,' but he keeps it professional. Doesn't make any side comments and keeps it at bay, even though he enjoys the eye candy himself. They're still young. Although work and keeping up with their labs is tough, they're finally out of school— which their days only consisted of science, publishing papers, graduating ASAP and launching their own careers. Of course, they've had their shares in relationships, one night stands, situationships; whatever you wanna call it, all clearly not working out because of all the work they've had to put in. The attention they've had to put into their education, early careers. It has become such a norm for them that a relationship isn't even in their minds right now. Not because they don't want to, but because they're afraid. Afraid of not having enough time while they're still balancing their loads, afraid they'll accidentally put their relationships on a backburner. Afraid of things just falling out terribly. Mingi can honestly say he's afraid because of how San's marriage unfolded. Of course, all experiences are unique, but it still doesn't mean he can't be afraid of his own. 

Once they've gotten a better hang of things, then maybe. Right now, everything seems risky. Everything.

"Mmkay." Mingi snorts. "Good talk earlier."

"Thanks, my guy." San smiles. "They asked me to do it last minute because someone else dropped the ball."

"That was a nice impromptu talk then." Mingi and San start walking down the path, greeting other faculty and students that pass them by. "How is your progress report going?"

"Almost done now that I've gotten my class schedule out of the way."

"You have two TAs this semester, right?"

"Mhm. Alex is actually doing a bulk of the classes, then the TAs. I'm teaching 8 classes this entire quarter."

"That's nice." 

"What about you?"

"Around the same. I've got Doyun helping take over most lectures, along with the TAs."

"Can't believe it's another quarter."

"Time just flies." He nods towards another group of professors. "By the way, have you met the new Applied Physics professor? Zara?"

"What's her last name?"

"Cho."

"Oh." San nods. "Yeah, heard of her. I saw the announcement about her starting, but that's it."

"Let's go say hi." Mingi smirks, causing San to furrow his brows in confusion.

"Why?"

"Don't we like meeting new people?"

"For good reason, yeah. Not yours."

"Hey, mine is a good reason. Who says it isn't?" Mingi smiles. "You know, just making her feel welcomed." He lazily hangs his arm over her shoulder. "Discussing potential collaborations, joint advising." San rolls his eyes, shaking his head just as they approach the group. 

"Yeah, let's keep it there." 

"Maybe—" Mingi suddenly shifts his attention to the group as soon as they face him and greet the both of them. Phew, San thinks. Now he doesn't have to hear the stupid shit bound to come out of his mouth. "Hey!"

"I was looking for you two." Namjoon has hands dug deep into his pockets with that usual Namjoon smile of his, Yeosang on his free side. "Wanted to introduce you to Zara Cho." He looks down at her and gestures at the two. "Zara, this is Mingi and San. Both under bioengineering with me, Mingi in Biology by courtesy, too."

"Oh, I've heard all about you two." She smiles. She's got a beautiful smile, and San notices the way her eyes glaze over him the most. She's attractive, and she's softspoken; has a certain grace that she upholds. Her hair is in a pretty bob that comes right below her jawline, and it fits her well. "It's an honor, truly." She says, shaking their hands.

"So, how's it been on campus so far?" San asks.

"It's been alright, I think. Settling in well and trying to get a hang of things."

"Thats good! Taking it day by day." She nods in agreement with a small giggle. "How's getting the lab situated going?" Mingi chimes in.

"Ah, it's tough but I at least have a post-doc and grad student onboard." She shrugs.

"It's a start. Sooner or later, it'll be overflowing with them." She giggles and nods.

"Yeah, that's the hope." She fully turns to San again. "Now that I'm a bit settled, I was hoping we could chat a bit more, San." Mingi shoots him this certain Mingi look before slowly nodding with a smirk.

"Yeah, that'd be great."

"Don't you have a free schedule in the afternoon?" Mingi instigates, making San furrow his brows in confusion.

"Uh yeah, but I was hoping to—" Mingi nudges him.

"Sure you can make a few minutes, yeah?" Namjoon chuckles. San doesn't mean to shrug her off or anything. Truthfully, he can get pretty shy and he is aware of the work she does. He just doesn't wanna make a fool out of himself, and he wants to make sure their conversation is productive; as with any he has.

"We can meet any time, no worries." 

"No, they're right. Later is good. My office is at the Harvey Center."

"I can stop by later in the afternoon if you're around? 4:30 or 5?"

"4:30 is good."

"Cool." She looks around before checking her watch. "Hate to cut this short, but I have to head back for a meeting." She gives everyone a curt bow. "See you all around?" Everyone says bye in their own ways before Namjoon and Yeosang close the gap in between them, Mingi and San.

"I knew I couldn't trust your reasoning." San glares at Mingi and he chuckles.

"Bruh, I told you. Collaborations and co-advisorships are in the works." Namjoon laughs.

"He's not entirely wrong but, she seemed to be a big fan of your work. Thought it'd be good to chat with her anyway."

"I don't trust you guys." Yeosang snorts.

"Just have a good productive meeting." Yeosang pauses. "And if it ever flourishes into anything, we'll be right there to support—"

"I knew it. I'm heading back to my office." San starts to walk away from the group, sipping on this smoothie.

"Just want you happy!" Namjoon yells.

"I am already!" San smirks before saluting at the three and heading back to the Harvey Center. He greets people on the way over to his office, checking in on a few of his lab members before shutting himself away in his office. San likes to think he's happy. He feels happy. He doesn't think he's lacking anywhere even though for the longest time, he felt like he was after his marriage fell apart. It took him a long time to get to where he is now, and he hopes he'll never go back to feeling that way. Feeling hurt, lost. Betrayed.

—FLASHBACK

"Hey." Jongho looks at San with concern, stepping aside to let him into his home. San gives him a forced, tiny smile, but doesn't say much— immediately making his way to Jongho's couch. Jongho can tell it's been a rough couple of days, San looking more exhausted than he's ever seen him. His eyes are red. Hair's a mess. He can tell San hasn't had a proper meal or sleep, yet he's still coming into work like he's okay. 

He can only imagine how difficult it is. To have someone go from being your world— to absolutely nothing. Your bestfriend being the most trusted person on earth— to nothing.

"What's going on?" Jongho feels like it's such a stupid question, but he isn't sure how to break the silence right now and he needs to. He watches San sink into the couch and just let out a sigh, and it's clear he's about to release everything he's been holding in. "What happened?" Jongho repeats in a different form.

"Where the fuck did I go wrong?" Jongho sees his bottom lip trembling before he buries his head into his hands and starts sobbing. It breaks his heart to see his bestfriend like this; he wishes he could tell him everything will be okay because he knows it will, even though it feels like miles away right now. He wishes that'll be enough. He wishes he could just take the pain away and shove it somewhere else. Because someone like San, someone who loves hard and deep, someone who is loyal until the very end, doesn't deserve this.

"You didn't go wrong anywhere. It was never you, San."

"Why would they do this to me? Why didn't she just talk to m-me about everything? How could she do that so easily?" He continues to mumble as he cries, Jongho rubbing a hand down his back. He truly hates this. He has never seen San so defeated.

Destroyed.

"Because they're both immature and didn't care. I know this is a lot easier said than done but this isn't worth it. You don't need her. You don't need him. They don't deserve you and you'll find someone who'll truly love you for you and who wouldn't even dare do this to you. I'm sorry it had to happen to you, but I promise you'll find someone better. Worth everything. Let yourself feel this out and process it, but once you do, brush it off and continue to move on." San doesn't say anything because Jongho is right; he still needs to process this, and he still needs to feel this out in order to properly move on. 

"Jongho, I don't even know how I'll make it past this. I really don't know how I can."

"You will. Give yourself some time, but in the end, you'll come out stronger and you'll realize why all of this was never meant for you in the first place. There's always a reason, one being that something way better is in the works." San doesn't say anything, but he continues to cry. He continues to wallow in his sadness, what's left of his heart crumbling to pieces and shattering. He knows this is only temporary— but that light, the 'better' that Jongho speaks of, seemed so, so far away.

Unreachable.

—END

San shakes off the thoughts and continues to power through his work, getting through other emails and lab financials he needs to sort through. He's also skimming over his class schedule and hopping into a quick kick-off call with his TAs and lecturers this quarter. 

Sooner or later, time flies on by and he's wrapping things up, getting ready to meet with Zara. He realizes he didn't give her any details on how to get to his office, so he grabs his phone and heads upstairs to wait for her. 

"Hi!" She rushes in, heels clicking against the floor. "Sorry, I'm running a few minutes late." San chuckles and shakes his head.

"No, don't even worry about it. I, uh.. just realized I never gave you proper directions to my office and the lab." San digs his hands into his pockets and presses the button to the elevator. "How was the rest of your day?"

"Good, busy. Just feels like it's nonstop." She giggles, stepping in next to him but with some distance. 

"Mm, yeah. I get that feeling all too well." He laughs. "But, it'll settle in due time." Luckily, the elevator ride isn't too awkward and it's quick— prompting San to step out and lead her down the basement hallway. "I can show you around the lab."

"Do you still have lab members lingering around?"

"Oh, always. They're always holed up in a behavior room or doing surgeries. Some of them really just prefer to work late nights so they don't have to share the space and equipment with anybody."

"Makes sense." She smiles up at him and he nods. He continues to show her around, taking her room by room; allowing her to see his wetbench lab space, his behavior rooms, laser rooms and the mice. She's impressed by how tidy and kept together the lab is despite so many people running around and being together in one space. It's bound to get messy and chaotic, and it does, sometimes. He explains that he tries really hard to keep his space clean and organized, emphasizing it to his lab members so much that they do actually listen especially when it's time for them to go and start their own careers. He's never had a problem with anyone leaving mess behind. He always tells people it's a space for another person to grow and they take that to heart. It's the least they could do after San has been nothing but supportive of them during their time in the lab.

Afterwards, he takes her into his office and she compliments him on all his awards. He rubs at his chin to brush off the heat rising to his cheeks, sitting onto computer chair to talk to her a little more about her plans. She even turns to him for advice about how to keep things steady once they get going, how to tour the labs with donors properly, how to successfully snag grants and funding for the future. The conversation turns out to be a long, productive one, even though San doesn't feel like he's qualified enough to give great advice. Yes, he's done most of it on his own but a lot of it was through Namjoon's guidance. He does slip that in there, giving her a nudge to talk to him a bit further about the perfect grants to go for at this stage, things to do to keep recruiting great postdocs and lab students, funding in the meantime. She appreciates all the guidance and help— so much that the conversation continues even as San packs up and heads out of the office with her.

He does enjoy their conversation, but he definitely could tell you he wouldn't take this anywhere even if his friends tried to push him into doing so. He respects her, he respects her work and he respects her as a colleague.

"Look, look, look!" Eunchae grabs your arm and pulls you aside. She stops in her tracks and nods towards the other side of the street, spotting San speaking to Zara. "He's talking to the new applied physics professor. Professor Cho or something."

"I heard a bit about her work. She's really smart."

"And pretty." You nod in agreement. "He's legit walking her to her car and everything. What if they're into each other already?! Or, do you think it's a tap and dash thing? Do you think Professor Choi is an undercover hoe?"

"Girl?" You look at her questioningly. "What do I do with you?" You laugh and playfully nudge her. "Professor Choi is probably just trying to be a good colleague to her."

"Yeah, okay. She's definitely interested, though. Look at the way she looks up at him. I mean, who wouldn't be?"

"Definitely can't get anything by you, can I?"

"Nope. I'm excited for your rotation with him."

"Excited for the wrong reasons." You playfully run a hand down her hair. "Get out of your head, missy." She snorts.

"I can only dream and live through you." You laugh and link your arm with hers, carrying onto the gym. Meanwhile, Zara finds her way to her car with San in tow.

"Well, it was great talking to you, San." San smiles and nods, watching as Zara gets into her car in one of the smaller lots near the Harvey Center. "Thanks for showing me around your lab and for all your advice."

"Yeah, of course. Let me know if you need anything else. Happy to help. Maybe I can swing by once your lab is settled and kicking off." She nods. "But, definitely try to catch Namjoon and get that old man's wisdom." She laughs.

"Of course. Will do. Have a good rest of your evening." He gently taps the hood of her car before giving her a small nod.

"You as well, drive safely." He waits until she gets settled in her car and drives off before slowly walking over to his car in the usual lot he parks at. He catches sight of you and Eunchae walking towards the gym, your laughs echoing as you seem to be joking around, playfully pushing each other and in good spirits. Hearing your laugh brings a small smile to his face, remembering the events earlier today.

He can't help but be a little flattered, even a little curious as to what exactly you think about him.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world

[rileyslibrary]

Reader has a new haircut and HATES it. Can we get a little comfort from Ghost?

———————————————————————

Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks as you look into the bathroom mirror. You run your hand through your hair, trying to fix the mess, then tuck a strand behind your ear.

“Why did you do this?” You murmur to yourself, “Why?”

You were feeling adventurous; that’s why. You wanted to “shake things up a little bit,” as you explained to your hairstylist. You showed him a picture for reference, ignoring his warning that the person in the photo was wearing a wig. So he did as he was told: he cut and styled your hair, just like that picture, and it looked beautiful. However, everything vanished as soon as you showered this morning.

You take a closer look and exhale through pursed lips. As you try to tame the strands in front of your face, a a biblical tale comes to mind. The story of Samson, a man who derived his mighty strength from his hair, and Delilah, who ordered someone to cut it while he was sleeping, stripping him of his power. You were both Samson and Delilah in your own tragic way.

You close your eyes and prepare to face the world outside the bathroom: your teammates, your superiors, him.

With your head lowered, you walk towards your office, barely acknowledging those around you. Usually, you would smile and greet people passing by, but today is different. Today, you avoid eye contact, try to take as little space as as possible so you go undetected, and when someone acknowledges your presence, you mutter a barely audible “good morning.” The only time you lift your head is when you have to salute a superior, and even then, you can’t wait to be dismissed so you can go back to counting the tiles on the corridor’s floor again.

You open the door to your office and find Ghost sitting at the top of his desk, cleaning his gun. He turns his head towards the door, greets you, and then shifts his attention back to his rifle. He stays still for a moment and turns to look at you again.

“Did you—”

“Yes.”

“Nice hairc—”

“Fuck off, Ghost.”

He furrows his eyebrows and cocks his head. His gaze follows you as you walk behind your desk, sit in your chair, and open your laptop. You feel his eyes piercing through you, and you bring your hand to your forehead, attempting to cover your face while you type in your password with the other hand.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Nothing,” you reply with a sigh, “it’s nothing; I’m sorry.”

He hops off his desk and slowly walks to yours. He stands beside you, towering above you, invading your private space.

“Ghost, please go back to your desk,” you whisper.

But he doesn’t listen. He gently pushes the papers on your desk aside and sits down.

“Hey.” He calls out, tapping the desk twice with his finger. You refuse to look at him and peek at his thighs instead.

“Is this how we’re going to be today?” He asks in a soft voice.

“Leave me alone, Simon.”

He reaches out and tickles your neck with his index finger. You shrug your shoulders and grasp his hand to stop him, but he seizes the opportunity, pinches your chin with his free hand, and redirects your face towards his.

“Look at me,” he orders.

You slowly lift your gaze to meet his. He looks at you with eyes full of understanding and compassion. He slowly tilts his head and rubs your chin with his thumb.

“This office isn’t big enough for two grumpy fuckers,” he jokes, “I need you to balance me out.”

He brings his hand to the side of your face, and you press your cheek against his palm.

“I’m human,” you reply, “I get grumpy as well.”

“Of course you do,” he reassures you. “Now, mind telling me what’s going on inside that head of yours?”

“Wanna take a wild guess, Lt.?” you ask and give him a side-eye.

“Is it something that has to do with the top of your head rather than the inside?” He ponders.

“Of course, it does, you asshole!” You cry and slap his hand away. “You, too, noticed how bad it looks!”

“I never said it looked bad!” He clarifies and throws his hands up. “You came in here with a new haircut and a frown; you don’t need a degree in applied mathematics to put one and one together!”

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” you reply, crossing your arms. “What matters is that I can’t stand my reflection in the mirror.”

He huffs and removes his mask, revealing his scarred face and messy hair. Though you have seen him many times without it before, it always surprises you when he grants you access behind his facade.

“Wanna talk about bad hair?” he says, pointing to the top of his head. “I have a permanent cow lick because of this mask, for fuck’s sake.”

You chuckle. “Well, it’s your choice to wear it, Lt.”

“And it was your choice to cut yours.”

“And I deeply regret it,” you whisper, lowering your head to your lap.

He shrugs. “It’s good to have regrets, grumpy; It means you’re learning, so you can make better decisions later.”

“Yes, but what about now, Ghost? How am I going to walk around like this?” You ask and tousle your hair.

He smiles and motions for you to stand up. As you comply, he grabs your wrist and pulls you onto his lap. He wraps one arm behind your waist, the other resting on your thighs.

“I have plenty of those if you want one.” He jokes and gestures towards his mask.

“I don’t want your kitschy mask, Lt.” You chuckle and slap his chest. “I want my hair back.”

“They’ll grow back,” he comforts you, “but in the meantime, we just have to play with the cards we’ve been dealt with, yeah?”

You rest your head on his shoulder and bury your face in his neck, inhaling his scent.

“I guess so,” you whisper.

“You’ll get used to it, love,” he murmurs, rubbing your back. “All changes take some time to get used to.”

“That or I might decide to shave them completely.” You joke.

He laughs and kisses your forehead.

“Do whatever you want to your hair—cut it, dye it, shave it—I don’t fucking care,” he says as he strokes the back of your head. “But this?” He points his index finger to your heart, “Never change this.”

———————————————————————

[tragedynoir]

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[satoruhour]

IDK IF U WILL SEE THIS OR ANYTHING BUT! is it ok if i request smth small and it starts off with gojo and the reader having a lil bit of banter by text, and the reader then says “satoru ur so pretty u should start a kissing booth for easy money” (as a joke ofc) and he was like “good idea” and went offline, making the reader freak out for the rest of the day until they came back to their apartment….. and found satoru set up a whole kissing booth in their living room

a/n: this is so cute!!! ty for the request anon <3 in this megumi is under satoru’s and reader’s care, tsumiki never went into a coma, and you’re married too / 1.3k

you loved satoru’s compliance. when you tell him that he should never cook again as a joke, he listens with a wide grin and a face that’s burnt on one side, sweeping the hard charcoal pieces of pancake into a pan. when you tell him you have two left feet, he simply laughs and just plops you onto his own, making you look like a fool waddling around.

a lovesick fool.

you’re left smiling into open space until a notification cuts you out of your daze, smile twisting into a questionable expression as your husband sends a picture of him posing in front of some boba tea shop, a promotional banner stating get spanked by one of our staff and get a free cup of boba tea!

[9:17am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: bet i’ll do it

[9:18am, delivered]: satoru. now. youll do it even if i dont bet you???!!?!!?!! 

[9:18am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: hmm… compelling argument, i’m afraid you’re correct

a few minutes pass and you are confident it’s him asking for a spank with a blinding smile on his face, probably pointing to one of the male staff because i have a wife at home, y’know? she’s so pretty and hot-headed and hot and—

[9:20am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: photo attached

boba acquired 😈😈😈😈

[9:21am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: oh yeah, one of the staff called me pretty. was a guy btw. had to flash him one of my peace signs and i just know he swooned

the raise of your eyebrows returned, though you stifle a chuckle.

[9:21am, delivered]: he did not swoon i promise you

and another picture comes in, his face all up in the camera with a comical pout on his face and your laughter comes out more freely this time, basically hearing the looks you’re getting from the commuters in the subway, though your eyes are only focused on satoru, on the curvature of his lips and the peek of his baby blues behind the sunglasses you bought for him.

[9:22am, delivered]: joking. you’re so pretty, you know that right

years ago you would’ve told yourself that it’ll only fuel his ego, but that was long before gojo satoru had decided you were everything and more; where he values everything you say, where you’re all he worships. one compliment from you could shut him up forever.

[9:23am, delivered]: you should totally start a kissing booth for like …. $4 a kiss or something

it’ll be easy money ngl and then we can share the gains 

[9:23am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: woah… good idea baby. alright then!

and gojo satoru goes offline immediately, leaving you left out in the cold, confused and perplexed when the satoru??? where the hell did you go??? texts fail to be read. it’s not often he does it, usually sending you a plethora of hearts or some stupid ugly sticker before the conversation ends. on the way to the school, you’re continually texting him, too, looking way more distracted than you would like to be in front of the students.

“sensei? any reason why you keep checking your phone?” yuji asks after lunch in the classroom, both arms tucked under his head.

“hm?” you answer but your eyes are still glued to the screen, the taunting ‘last seen at 9:23am’ taunting you endlessly and megumi looks like he has half a mind to just blurt it out, but he thinks it’s worth seeing your reaction later as he takes one more look at his adoptive father’s updates, sending picture after picture of his progress and he keeps the device tucked under to avoid any suspicion.

[14:09pm, my terrible father figure i guess]: do NOT !!!! SEND THIS TO MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE . i wll literally humiliate you in training later if you do

megumi sighs.

[14:10pm delivered]: don’t you already? also stop texting me loser she’ll find out 

the raven-haired boy later is left to comfort you later when you’re holding onto the phone a little too tightly, and by then you’ve already gone through every possible thought. satoru dying, satoru meeting a curse that’s higher than a special grade, satoru on a rampage to kill the higher-ups, satoru—

“you’re going to die worrying about gojo-sensei like that.” and you roll your eyes, hand fishing around in your bag for the keys to your shared home while your eyes never leave megumi. it’s been like this for as long as you can remember: you being the voice of reason, megumi taking your rambles like he always has, gojo usually just laughs.

“yeah? well? how could i not?” you fumble with your keys and pick out the right one, putting it in the keyhole easily from the many times you’ve done it and you swing open the door, “not when he’s the strongest who has to take care of so many things without any rest! what if he got distracted and took down infinity? what if he—”

and sometimes you hated gojo’s compliance (you’re lying to yourself).

upon opening the door, the living room was full of cardboard boxes and cut out shapes, paint over the floor and on his jujutsu uniform, an all-knowing, but still stunning grin that you wanted to slap off of him. the chaos of the cardboard led to one thing: a small counter completed with a tip jar, his free cup of boba tea and a large sign that said kissing booth: $4 for a smooch!

and a smaller sentence is parenthesis, ‘free for my baby.’ the statement almost, almost gets you but you manage to ask him in a monotonous voice, “what are you doing, gojo satoru?”

“hi…?” megumi smiles secretly to himself before closing the door for you, putting the keys in your outstretched hand and it’s sort of the routine the three of you fall into everyday now. alas, with tsumiki staying in her university’s dorms, it was a little lonely for megumi, but the two of you were enough entertainment for him.

“well i was just listening to you!” gojo gestured to the whole place, which will probably be a pain to clean up, “who can blame my silly little brain for wanting to do a project to make my wife happy?”

you cross your arms in retaliation, but in all honestly, you wanted nothing but to greet the sorcerer with an embrace, something you’ve been meaning to do since your worrisome attitude from the morning. reluctantly, you frown while you make your way to the makeshift counter, immediately leaning forward before satoru puts a finger on your lips with a teasing smile.

“ah! four dollars please!”

bonus

“i was really worried, y’know,” the words are muffled from the way you’re buried in his neck that night, inhaling the scent that you missed all day. it’s summer in japan at the moment, but you find yourself craving his skin more than ever, a hand going up to brush through his stark white hair.

“’m sorry, baby,” satoru pulls away from you, as with you, sending you a small smile before pecking your forehead, “i promise to tell you what i’m up to from now on.”

you lean forward to close the gap, and all the kisses you exchanged earlier were definitely not enough. softly, your arms wrap around his shoulders while a leg goes over his body, gojo sounding out a little surprised hum at your eagerness. smiling into the kiss, satoru only plants more kisses to your nose, your lids, to your eyebrows and your chin, and another gentle one to your lips.

“even if it’s arts and crafts or maybe attempting to make you some strawberry tarts.”

you slap his chest lightly, a faux shocked expression filling your features, “i thought we agreed no more strongest sorcerer in the kitchen?”

“of course, sweet girl,” satoru lands one last deep kiss to show you truly the extent of his love. but even then, he knew it wasn’t enough, so he hoped, at least his words were, “i only ever listen to your voice —  none else matters.”

i love him

[lucy90712]

I love your writing!!!! I wanted to ask if you could write a story where the reader is a famous actress and has a crush on Carlos and decides to watch a tennis match, but you didn't expect that Carlos also has a crush on you, he's already watched all your films and the whole team know this

Carlos' POV

"Who was your first celebrity crush?" The interviewer asked 

"I honestly don't remember I remember having a few but I can't think of one right now" I answered 

"Can you give us a recent one?" They then asked 

"God this is embarrassing hopefully she won't see this but y/n is definitely one I love everything she's been in" I admitted 

"That is a lot of people's answers so you aren't alone in that" the interviewer laughed 

Your POV

"We know you are very much into sport you are often seen at football matches and f1 or motogp races but a few days ago you posted yourself playing tennis is this another sport to add to the list" the interviewer asked me 

"Definitely I love tennis I can't watch as much of it as all of the grand slams seem to be when I'm really busy but I try my best to watch as many matches as I can I also love to play tennis it's become my favourite thing to do after I get off set in the evenings" I answered 

"Do you have favourite players?" I was then asked 

"I do I like Sabalenka and Coco Gauff and I love to watch Carlos Alcaraz I always try and watch his matches even if it's late I'll stay up and watch him play" I said 

"Have you ever been to a tennis match?" The interviewer asked 

"I haven't yet but I'm hoping to make it to one this year I think I will be in London at the same time as Wimbledon so hopefully I will have some free days to be able to go and watch a few matches" I answered 

~~~~~~~~~~

After my interview saying that I love tennis and would love to go and watch a match at Wimbledon one of the organisers contacted my manager and offered me tickets to centre court for a day. Of course I had to say yes but I couldn't make any day in the first week as I had it be on set every day but I have a few days off during the second week so they gave me tickets to the day with the best matches on. One of those matches happened to be involving Carlos Alcaraz which is the one I'm most excited to watch as I can't lie I have a bit of a crush on him which I didn't mention in that interview as I didn't want him finding out. 

Usually I'm not supposed to go to events like this on my own, my manger likes to arrange security to come with me or makes sure I have a friend with me but this time I insisted that I go alone as I want to experience everything properly. Even if there is a lot of people around who might want pictures I don't care I just want to take it all in without someone stopping me from doing some things. The one thing I couldn't get out of was having someone drive me there and wait for me to leave but I'm ok with that compromise as it's for my safety and I'm still free to roam around Wimbledon all day. 

First thing this morning I had a meeting but by lunchtime I was free to go so I grabbed some food and then got the person driving me to head to Wimbledon. Heading inside the grounds were spectacular there was so many flowers and every green space was perfectly maintained. It wasn't long before people started to notice me and I had fans coming up asking for photos and lots of photographers trying to take pictures of me. Most of the time I try and avoid all of this attention but today I don't mind as I'm just so happy to be here and be able to watch the best tennis players in the world play.

I spent a while walking around looking at all the courts and just exploring before I headed to centre court to watch my first match. My seat was right behind one of the player boxes which meant I got to listen to the instructions they gave to help the players below. I had so much fun watching the match that I didn't even really pay attention to the score but Swiatek won in straight sets then it was time to prepare for the next match which is the one I'm looking forward to the most. There is quite a gap between matches to allow people to leave and get drink and to prepare the court but I stayed put wanting to see everything. One of the perks of getting given tickets is that I've ended up in the vip area so they have been bringing out drinks and snacks which means I really don't have to leave. 

While waiting for the next match to start I decided to actually look at my phone and of course there is lots of pictures from today but I ignored most of those and just looked at what my friends have been up to and what has been going on on set as I like to know what they are filming. After scrolling for a minute I came across a video of Carlos from an interview with Wimbledon so it must be recent so I watched it. They asked him a lot of questions then they asked about his celebrity crush which is when I heard my name so I had to rewind it to make sure I wasn't imagining things. I wasn't hearing things Carlos actually named me as his celebrity crush I mean sure he could be lying but it sure seemed like he was being genuine which has me feeling so much more nervous about watching him play. 

While I was freaking out people started to file back in and there was people starting to take their seats in the box in front of me. I wasn't really paying attention to who was walking in until I saw Juanki sit just a few rows in front of me which is when I realise all of Carlos' team were sat in front of me. I'm not sure if this is a dream or a nightmare there is so much going on in my head it feels like it's about to explode. There was still a bit of time until the match was due to start so I just tried to gather my thoughts but as I did that I made eye contact with Juanki who then climbed up the few rows to stand right in front of me. 

"Hi you are y/n the actress right?" He asked 

"Yes I am it's great to meet you you've done an incredible job coaching Carlos" I said trying to be nice 

"Thank you but he makes it easy" he laughed 

"I wanted to ask you if you are free after this match to come and meet Carlos I know he loves your shows and would love to meet you" he said 

"Yeah I would love to do that I'm a big fan of his tennis so I'd love to meet him" I said 

"Great after the match you can follow us out of here and we can sort things out" he said 

With that he went back to his seat leaving me to watch the match while thinking about the fact that in just a few hours I'm going to meet Carlos. Most people would think that because I'm an actress I'm fine with meeting new people but the thought of meeting Carlos who is someone I admire as an athlete as well as thinking he's extremely attractive is nerve wracking. That being said this match can't finish quick enough as I'd love to talk to him and find out what he's like as a normal person and not the tennis player. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The match was long but Carlos won in four sets and is through to the quarter finals. Once he won he had to do his interview on court and he looked up at his team and I'm convinced made eye contact but I couldn't keep looking as I got nervous. Once he left the court his team started to leave but Juanki stayed and helped me climb over the little wall between my seat and the box and then showed me the way out of the stands. We ended up in a very official seeming building as there was lots of staff and security as well as a few other players then we went down a corridor that had security at the end checking people's passes so Juanki had to assure them that I was with them and eventually they let me through. Juanki led me to a room that had some tables and chairs as well as a few other people I recognised from Carlos' box and told me that Carlos would be here as soon as he's done his media commitments. 

Waiting there made me so nervous it was like I was back on the set of my first big shoot all over again. That day I was nervous that I'd mess up in front of the many seasoned actors and make myself look like a fool but today I'm nervous that I won't be the way Carlos expects me to be. That's something I often struggle with everyone expects me to be a certain way and I always struggle with trying to live up to the high expectations but I'm hoping that by just being myself I won't disappoint. 

After waiting for around half an hour Carlos walked in and looked right at me so I just smiled as I didn't really know what else to do. Our little staring contest went on for a few seconds before I decided to get up and greet him before things got too awkward. As I walked over he started to smile too which made me feel slightly less nervous. 

"Hi congrats on the win you did great out there" I said not really knowing what else to say 

"Thank you I can't believe you watched my match" he said clearly thinking out loud 

"Well I love tennis and you are one of my favourite players so it was an honour to get to watch you play" I said 

"It's so cool to actually meet you in person I think I've watched everything you've been in and made others watch you are an incredible actress" he complimented 

"You haven't seen that awful vampire movie I did right my acting was awful in that it was so awkward" I laughed 

"I have seen it I thought you were great not the best thing you've been in though" he smiled 

After that our conversation flowed a lot easier we sat down together and just got to know each other. We talked about how he got into tennis and how much of his life is dedicated to it and about my career and what it's like working all around the work and with so many different actors. We also got to know each other on a more personal level which was really nice as in our careers you don't really get to know people properly so it's nice to make a human connection not a networking connection. He was so lovely and we got along really well to the point that we didn't notice how much time had gone by until the sun started shining right into our faces as it was setting outside. Both of us have busy days tomorrow so we really had to get back to our normal lives if we want to get enough sleep for tomorrow. 

Before we left his team wanted to take pictures of us together and we both agreed as we both know that those posts will get a lot of interaction as we have mentioned each other in interviews before. He also asked for my number so that we could keep in contact which I was happy to give him as I'd really like to keep getting to know each other. Him and his team walked with me back to my car to make sure I was ok but then they left me and Carlos to say goodbye to each other. He took the initiative and gave me a hug and kissed my cheek as he did so which had me blushing like crazy which I was a bit embarrassed about until I noticed he also had a pink tint on his cheeks. 

We said one last goodbye to each other before I got in the car and taken back to my hotel so I could eat dinner and go to bed. While I got myself ready for bed I scrolled on my phone and of course my picture with Carlos had been posted on his account and then reposted to Wimbledon's account. Of course I had to repost his post to my story which I know will make my fans crazy as I was with a guy but I don't care I had fun today. Right before I went to bed Carlos sent me a text saying that he enjoyed our conversation and asked me to contact him if I'm free at any time both of us are still here so we can spend some more time together which made me smile as I thought about when I have time off over the next week or so. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 23

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You can barely eat. You’re strung up in shock and shame, your stomach mulching as your nerves curdle. You only really have the toast, unable to stomach the omelet or hash that came with it. No one else seems discouraged by the day’s events.

As you wait for the cue to leave, Bucky signals to the server; a different one than before. They return with a container that Bucky offers to you. You take it, at first confused, then scrape your leftovers into it. You thank him as you close up the lid and rest it in your lap.

Finally, Steve pays the bill and you’re free to stand up. The jacket hangs heavily from your shoulders as you follow behind them through the restaurant. You watch your feet, too afraid to face the other diners. Are they judging you? Was it one of them who said something to the server?

You emerge into the sunlight and Steve’s voice buzzes in your ears. Most of the conversation at the table was nothing more than garbling to you. You just can’t make sense of any of this. You don’t know how but you know everything is going to change and that’s scary. You’ve only ever been with your mom. Now, he’s attached to her. Maybe, it means you’ll have to go.

“Over there...” Steve points, “nice spot.”

You follow the length of his arm to the little patch of grass on the other side of the lot. There’s a tree and a large stone surrounded by colourful petals. It’s a cute little space with a picnic table on the green blades.

“Just a few pictures,” Steve takes out his phone and hands it to Bucky, “this is a day we don’t wanna forget, huh, honey?”

Your mom grabs onto Steve’s hand and he almost winces. He squeezes and brings her with him across the lined tarmac. You shuffle behind them as Bucky holds the phone awkwardly. You cross the expanse of the lot and Steve brings your mother beside him to pose for a picture. You suppose they would need wedding photos even if it’s all a bit odd.

Bucky aims the lens and you hear the shuttering noise of the frames. Your mom is smiling again. It’s such a strange sight. You hug your leftovers and watch silently.

“How about we get both my girls in here?” Steve beckons to you, “a family picture.”

You blanch and furrow your brow. You look one way then the other and shrug. Bucky offers to take the leftovers, balancing it in one hand as he keeps the phone in his other. You reluctantly trod across the grass.

As you near, another waft of Steve’s cologne tickles your nose. You look down and slowly slip off his jacket and offer it up. He takes it and swiftly pulls it back on.

“Thanks, kiddo,” he says and pulls you against his side, your mother against his other, his arms spread wide around you both. “Say cheese.”

You face the camera and you know the first picture is bad. You must look startled. Your vision comes into focus and you see Bucky and the phone. You make yourself smile as Steve’s hand slides down your arm and instead grips your side, just where it’s smallest.

You stand for a few more as his fingertips curl into your flesh. Finally, he’s happy with it and Bucky drops his arm. Steve drags his hand away, brushing over your skirt in a way that makes you quiver. His touch leaves a hot tingling along your side.

You take your food back from Bucky and he hands the phone to Steve. He gives you a long look after.

“You wanna ride back with me?” He asks.

You nod. You just want to go home.

“Stevie,” your mom’s hand shakes as she latches onto Steve’s arm, “how about we... drive around for a while?”

“Uh, sure,” he answers, “sounds good. You okay with getting her home?”

“Yep,” Bucky frowns, as if annoyed at the redundant question. “I think I can handle it.”

“Don’t give him a hard time,” your mom snips at you. “Just go home.”

“Come on,” Bucky’s already turning away, “let the newlyweds enjoy their marital bliss.”

You nod and quickly spin to follow him. You almost admire his indifference to it all. The way he dismisses them both. It does make you wonder though, if he’s friends with Steve, why does he seem so agitated? Maybe he’s just as confused as you.

You go to his car and he opens the door for you. You thank him as you get in. It’s a nice gesture.

You stare through the windshield as he gets in. He’s quiet as the music comes back on. He leaves it and backs out of the spot. He drives by your mom and her husband. Your parents? Your eyes meet Steve’s as he stares, his hand running down his lapel. He doesn’t look as happy any more.

You shrink back into the seat, keeping the container just off your bare legs. When you get home, you’re throwing this dress out. You doubt you’ll ever have a reason to wear it again.

🏠

Bucky drops you off at the house. Walking up, knowing it's empty, you feel eerie. Everything is out of sorts. The world has tilted on its axis overnight.

You put your leftovers in the fridge and change, stuffing the dress into the bottom of the bin. You wander through the small house. You don't know what to do with yourself. Without your mom to tell you what to do, or what you're doing wrong, you're listless.

Finally, you sit down with your table and notebook, trying to center your energy on a page. As you touch the pencil to the paper, the tip snaps. You sigh and place the pencil down in the middle crease. You stretch your fingers and close them.

You just can't be still. You sharpen the pencil and tuck it into the book, hugging it under your arm. You put your shoes in and head off without destination. You just can't be in that house alone. Not right now.

You're uneasy at first as you stroll through the streets. You watch over your shoulder for the HOA as you go around corners. You come to the little bridge behind the house with the archway wrapped in ivy.

You stop at the peak of the bridge and bend back the cover of your sketchbook. You take the pencil and eye the small pond beneath. You mimic the ripples in graphite, etching on the moss and the leaves floating, and a few tadpoles beneath the surface. You don't often do still lifes, you never much leave your room, but it's calming to be out in the world and have a focal point.

A pebble drops into the water with a plop, sending an echo of circles through it. You step back, barely saving your book from slipping over the edge. You turn to face the figure at the end of the bridge. It's a boy. Well, he's probably your age so... a man?

He's strangely familiar. Reddish brown hair, warm dark eyes, and a crooked grin. You nearly gasp as he says your name like a question.

"How..." you close up your book and back up.

"Hey, I didn't know you were still around."

"Who?"

"Peter," he smiles, "how's your grandma?"

"My..." you shake your head. "She's dead."

"I mowed her lawn?" He offers as your confusion remains sewn into your forehead.

"Oh."

"You always had your colouring books."

"Yeah," you sniff. "Am I in your way?" You flatten yourself against the railing.

"Nope," he comes up the bridge, "so... you draw?"

"Uh, yeah," you glance towards the water.

"Nice, I'm more into photography," he raises hisbhand and shows a camera in his hand, "was coming to try to catch the frog that hangs out. You seen him?"

"Mm, no," you murmur, "I should go."

"I don't mind," he says, "if you stick around."

You hesitate, the bridge creaking under your feet. You think of the empty house, of the morning wedding and the restaurant. You're in no hurry to go back to any of it. You nod and turn around, "okay." You ppen your sketch book as he comes up beside you, a foot away as he fiddles with his camera.

"Living with my Aunt May now so... maybe we'll see each other around," he says as he switches the lens, "it won't feel so lonely around here.”

[moonbeamwritings]

making a house a home

inspired by this post *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

pairing: hawks x gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

There’s a loneliness that clings to every surface of Keigo’s apartment. It lingers in the slight dip on one side of the couch and not the other. It stakes its claim in the one chair at his dining table that's always pulled out while the others remain unoccupied. His bed is much too big, too; cold and empty, and like so many other spots in his home, untouched on one side.

His walls are bare, save for the odd photo here and there; one frame in his bedroom, a few in the hallway, one or two on the wall in the living room. It’s a feeble attempt to prove to himself that there are people in his life, though when he racks his brain, Keigo struggles to conjure the names of anyone he considers a true friend, anyone he considers family. At the end of the day, the pictures scattered about are just that — pictures. His apartment is still empty; his heart still yearns.

Every night, with exhaustion weighing him down and a soreness in his joints, Keigo comes home to near deafening silence, to dark rooms and cold spaces. And every night, despite the ache in his ribs, he calls out a chipper, “Honey, I’m home!” A call he knows will go unanswered, like the final, resolute trill of a species on the verge of extinction.

Everything changes when he meets you.

It’s a typical morning in the middle of January, and the streets are packed despite the chill that clings to the air, despite the threat of snow, and Keigo takes the extra time to walk to the coffee place down the street from his agency instead of fly. It kills a little time, and it’s nice to let the cool air gently fill his lungs instead of whip into his face in flight.

And just as he rounds the final corner, he slams into your smaller frame. You stumble, bag toppling off your shoulder, contents spilling out and onto the sidewalk.

“Oop,” he says, steadying you on your feet before stooping down to help you collect some of your things. “Sorry about that. Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

You smile, a casual, sweet thing that makes Keigo’s face feel warm. You’re pretty. “No harm done. I wasn’t looking either.”

With the last of your stuff thrown back into your bag, you offer him one more of those pretty smiles and a kind “thank you” before you’re disappearing up the street.

Keigo lingers for a moment, watching you until you get swallowed by the crowd before he, too, turns and continues on his way. By the time he orders his coffee and his day begins in earnest, he’s forgotten all about his earlier encounter.

That is, until he’s on his lunch break. His stomach, and the ice that clings to his bones despite his jacket and thick gloves, has guided him to the nearest ramen shop, on the hunt for something warm to fill his belly. And once he’s in line, he catches sight of a familiar face — you.

“You again,” you tease, fixing him with that same, friendly grin. You lean a little closer to whisper, “Am I on some watchlist I don’t know about?”

A smirk graces his features as he ducks to whisper back conspiratorially, “Oh yeah.” He pats the pocket on the left-hand side of his coat. “Got your wanted poster right here.”

“Damn,” you mutter, lifting your free hand in mock surrender. “You got me.”

“But I’m a nice guy,” he reminds you with a resolute nod. “So I’ll at least let you eat lunch first.”

You sigh dreamily, batting your lashes at him dramatically before dropping a warm hand against his shoulder. It damn near burns a hole through his jacket, and he can feel the heat from it travel up to the tips of his ears. “You’re so kind.”

A smirk. “I try.”

The conversation lulls for only a moment as your order number gets called, and his follows shortly after. You stand shoulder to shoulder as you both scan the restaurant for an open table. It’s the lunch rush, so the place is jam-packed with patrons.

You steady your tray in a firm grip. “It looks like that’s the only table open.” Keigo follows your eyes over to a small table nestled in the corner by the window. “Do you wanna, maybe, sit together?”

Keigo knows that he should probably refuse. He can imagine the headlines and social media threads now — No. 2 Hero on a Quest for Love, Has Pro-Hero Hawks Finally Been Snatched Up? — but as he watches you shift your weight from foot to foot, eyeing him with what he can only describe as a sheepish smile, he can’t bring himself to deny you.

“Sure, lead the way.”

After that, one chance encounter leads to a dinner date one weekend and a movie date the next. Before suddenly you’re spending nights at his apartment and he’s cooking you breakfast in the morning.

It’s tough at first. Guys like him don’t usually date. They hide and work and yearn until they’ve given the universe all they have. Until there’s nothing left. Keigo’s line of work doesn’t allow him the luxury of relaxation, the comfort of being... normal. It’s a delicate balance, protecting you and spending time with you, one that takes weeks to find. But when he does, Keigo starts to feel a little less lonely. Slowly, he starts to realize just how easily you’ve wormed your way into his life, into his heart.

Your shoes fit so perfectly next to his, right by the door. You snuggle into his side on the couch, perching yourself in the chair across from his at the dinner table. Keigo finds that he sleeps so much better with you nuzzled beneath his chin, even if you try to hog the sheets. You’re occupying spaces that have never been occupied before, exploring uncharted territory.

You leave your mark on his home when your clothes start to join his in the closet, when your toothbrush sits next to his in the bathroom. You place your succulents on his windowsill and buy a fresh vase of flowers for the dining table every two weeks.

Walls that were once barren fill, and they fill quickly. “It’s sad, Keigo,” you’d told him with a pout, staring at the blank canvas that he calls his living room wall. “You deserve better than this.”

His chest floods with affection when he comes home one evening to see that you’ve set up what you call a gallery wall. A collection of different artworks and prints and photographs litter his wall, their sizes and frames varying to draw his eye to each one. They fit together like puzzle pieces.

You were right, he’d always deserved better than those barren walls, than his cold, lonely apartment. And now that you’ve shown him what warmth feels like, Keigo knows he’ll never stop clinging to it.

His favorite thing of all, though, is getting to come home to you.

“Honey, I’m home!” Keigo calls, and almost reflexively he braces for silence, one he’s grown so accustomed to, but that cursed silence never comes. Instead, the sweet, familiar sound of your voice is there to greet him.

“‘M in the kitchen!”

The smell of food wafts through the air, radiating through every corner of his apartment as Keigo approaches you. He wraps his arms around your waist and squeezes before pulling you back towards his chest.

You stop what you’re doing to lean back into his hold, curling a gentle hand under his jaw and leaning up to capture his lips with your own. When you pull away, Keigo can feel your grin against his lips. “Welcome home.”

And, oh, how his heart soars at the sound.

You’ve made his house a home, your home, and Keigo’s certain that he’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for him, for how you’ve changed his life. But with you in his arms, staring up at him with adoration glimmering in your pretty eyes, Keigo decides that a gentle kiss and a soft, but earnest, “I love you” is as good a place to start as any.

[toomanythoughts2]

Theory on Toki's Photos and How They Represent Family and Identity

I got inspired by @liqu0ricepizza Post about wanting to know more about Toki's photographs in his room. I also love all of the photos in his room and love looking at them. So, I compiled a little theory on what the meaning behind those photos represent.

In short, I believe that the way the photos are arranged represent the timeline of Toki's life, his identity, and his family. The theory goes down the line of photos from left to right and I explain my reasoning for each of them. I also look at the times where the photos change!

As always, the main theory is below the Keep Reading!

The Overview

Toki is the only one in the band that seems to have photos in his room at all. But the thing that I've noticed is that these photos will change sometimes depending on how close up the shot is! These 5 pictures below is what Toki's pictures usually looks like. It always follows the same pattern;

Single shot of his mother

Group shot of his parents

Single shot of his father

Empty small frame

Single shot of Toki playing guitar

Group shot of Dethklok

Single shot of his father

My hypothesis is that this is the order in which Toki sees his life story in reference to his family and identity.

Photos

These are the stills that I believe the photos on Toki's wall come from.

From the left, we start with his mother. A mother is the start of life. Toki was born from this woman so it would make sense that this is where his life began. But it's also a long, narrow shot with an obvious missing person to her right. That place is suppose to be for Aslaug. Even in his photographs, his presence is always there, even when he's not present.

Then to the double shot. Take notice that in the double shot, Toki placed them so the opposite parent is placed next to their spouse from the other photos. The single shot of his mother is hanging next to her husband in the second photo, where as his mother in the double shot is next to his father in the single shot next to her. This speaks to me as a way of acknowledging they are a duo. They are not meant to be separated, and that Toki always witnessed them as a team. They are his parents!

The middle photo also conveys to me that this how Toki saw his parents as a toddler. Toki is still too young to be completely separated from his mother, but the labor and abuse began shortly around this timeframe. He was expected to be a working individual as a family member and his father knew that. His father is the one that put him to work.

Then to the single shot of Aslaug. Pay attention to the fact that his portrait is tall and narrow, with no free space on either side. His photograph is meant to be powerful. He is still Aslaug with or without his wife. His presence does not necessarily mean that Anya's presence has to be there as well. This could speak well to the type of dynamic that Toki witnessed as a child between his parents. His father was his own person, someone who command a room. He was a reverend. Reverends have to be able to control their congregations and lead them to their salvation, no matter the cost. His mother was just a part of that following. And Toki sees that.

I believe that this is when Toki started getting severely abused and forced to work through horrible conditions. There was no need for his mother, her job as caretaker was over. For now, his life was under his fathers rule and no one else. He is his father's son.

Next to them is the small empty picture frame. I have a few theories.

This picture frame represents the lack of acknowledgement as a child in Toki. He was not seen, just like how there is no photo present. He did not see himself as a part of the family in context to his parents. He was theirs to use and then throw away when they got angry. There are no photos of him because his parents did not see him as a family member, only a tool. So the empty frame represents the lack of identity in the family structure. That's why it's so small. It's a frame meant for a child's picture. The child should always be smaller than the parents, lower than the parents. Notice how it's below the top of their heads? It's a way of respecting them. The empty frame is Toki, both psychically as a missing childhood picture and metaphorically as an empty shell of a person without a role to play.

This represents the time where Toki was kicked out. The empty frame is there because Toki had no family except himself while he was living on the streets. He had no one to count on or be protected by. The frame represents that loss of time, loss of structure, loss of identity, loss of everything. Take note that it's in between his father's picture and then a picture of himself. It's small because it could represent the amount of time he was lost for or the way it made him feel while he was lost. Either way, it's a representation of loneliness and fear, put out into a world that doesn't care about him. Toki had no one but himself, and he has no photos of himself during that time. So he has nothing to put there.

Take note that all four of these photos hang over nothing. There is nothing under them but empty space and the floor. This could represent a fear of putting things that he loves near his parents. He had nothing but a straw doll to his name as a child. It could be fear holding him back from putting anything near them, even though they could not take them away. He had nothing.

(The closet I could find a source photo of this photo is his figurine from the mystery boxes and a few stills, but nothing cut and copy like the rest of the photos.)

Next we have a picture of Toki playing guitar as a grown up! This represents individual freedom and identity within himself. He knows that he can count on himself to be his own family with his own passions. His guitar playing granted him life, a role, an identity, a passion, a skill. Playing guitar is one of Toki's greatest passions! It's also a full body shot! Toki is proud of his photo, he wants to show that he can be valuable in his own right as a guitarist!

However!

His dinosaur toy is blocking him!

This could represent his childlike tendencies blocking fans, the band, and viewers from see his true potential. The head of the dinosaur is completely blocking his guitar, preventing the viewer from seeing him play. His suppressed childhood is preventing himself from fully being recognized as an accomplished guitarist and a full fledge member of the band. This is also the only photo where is above his bookshelf of trinkets. His dinosaur, his globe, his skull, his books, his ship! These are those childhood fantasies he wished he could explored when he was an actual child. Why couldn't Toki just get a long shelf, spread everything out and that way the dinosaur wouldn't be blocking his photo? Because he can't put anything under his parents. So because of his parents abuse in his childhood, now his freedom to explore those interests take over his identity, until all you can see are his things. This could represent his looming Age Regression within the series and his child-like tendencies and naiveness.

Next to that is a photo of Dethklok. Now this is his family!

He cares and loves these people. He has an identity with the band, though sometimes it's overshadowed, it's still there. This is also the only group photo that Toki is in! He has a home and a family here, he has met the end of the road. It's close to his bed, surrounded on all sides with his things. It's not blocked by anything and in fact, it's overtop a lamp. It's in the spotlight! For all purposes, that should be the end of it all. The happy ending. He has a family, a role, an identity, the spotlight, the focus, the fans. Everyone loves him, respects him somewhat. It's as high on the wall as the decor will let it. He thinks highly of them, of himself.

But his life isn't that easy.

The last photo is a single shot of his father, close up on his face, looming over Toki's bed. The picture is sightly lower than Dethklok's photo but it's larger. It's a reminder, that despite all of it, he is still his father's son.

His past will always be there to haunt him, his father's presence will always linger over him. It's domineering, it's haunting, it's terrifying. It's meant to strike fear. It's right in front of a robot with a axe, positioned right over top Toki's head where he sleeps. It's a control tactic, a reminder that Toki's life was always in his father's hands. He held the whip that tore his back, he stands behind the axe above his sleeping head. Aslaug is not letting Toki go. The damage that he has done to Toki is immense and complex. No might how high he gets with Dethklok, his father will always be closer, more demanding. And Toki will always be his victim until he learns to stop giving him that power.

Now, when you get close up shots, the pictures change!

Changed Photos

This represents the inner feelings of the character in the shot.

In "Fertilityklok", Toki is looking at the fertility calendar Caroline has given him. The close up shot replaces the Looming Father picture above his bed and the Dethklok photo. His father's picture has been replaced with Dimneld, who Toki sees as his father-friend. He loved and cared about him dearly. I view this as maybe Toki wishing he could talk to Dimneld for advice on what to do. Or, it could be him relating the idea of becoming a father to the only father-figure he knows that was kind to him. Could he be like Dimneld? Can he be a good father? What is a father?

And then you have young Toki. This could speak about young Toki's aspirations toward a family. Is this really what you wanted? Or it could represent the idea of bringing in another Wartooth into the world. Would they turn out like him? Or maybe that Toki still views himself as a child and that he is unable to make this life long commitment. Either way, Toki's photos depict his feelings toward the calendar.

We move on to "Dethcamp" where Nathan is putting a stack of clothes in Toki's room while he's off to camp. In this episode, Nathan takes on a very parental role for Toki. He is his band-dad the most in this episode. Now, in the background, three photos change. The small frame become a close up of Aslaug, Toki's guitar playing picture become another double shot of his parents, and the photo above the lamp is the same Young Toki photo.

I think that this is Nathan's feelings about Toki and his emotions upon finding out that Toki is as camp with Magnus.

To Nathan, what he knows about Toki is that his parents rule over him. The scars of their abuse are etched on every part of Toki's body and mind. Nathan has stated that Toki's father is a "piece of garbage" and does not push Toki into talking about him. He does not like Toki's parents at all. But he knows that they are a huge part of his character.

The photos behind him represent how he thinks about Toki. He thinks of his past, of the pain he has gone through, the fact that his parents will not leave him alone. It's overbearing and apparent. Even the empty frame is full, something Nathan views as Aslaug's fault (Toki's missing identity as a child and the loss time in which he was kicked out.) He recognizes Toki's shit childhood and his homelessness before Dethklok was Aslaug's fault directly!

The photo of Toki playing guitar as also changed. Toki's child-like presence is tainted and caused by his parents. All of his interests are a way for Toki to take back control of a lost childhood, something Nathan blames on Toki's parents.

Then you come across young Toki in the Dethklok photo frame. It's above the lamp, in the spot light. This is how Nathan views Toki, a child. Above everything, Toki is still that lost, small, innocent child that somehow found his way into his band and into his life. Toki is canonically seen as the little brother of the band, but this is "proof" of how Nathan really sees him. To him, Toki's identity is a child.

This shot depicts Nathan inner emotions as he sees the pamphlet. He is remembering all of the things Magnus has done to him and the band and how that relates to Toki's parents. They are bad people, hell bent on hurting one person, the child, Toki. Immediately after this scene, Nathan high tails it to Pickles room to get him to get Toki.

In "Diversityklok", we're introduced to a new photo and a remix of an original photo. We all know the group photo from this episode. So first, I want to point out that the group photo is on a completely opposite wall to the rest of the photos. It's directly over the body of his bed in a personalized photo frame, in a spot that has not had a photo before. This a completely new photo.

This represents the amount of care and thought that went into this photo frame, but also the amount of care and thought that goes into how Toki views his family and band. He loves them a lot, but they don't seem to love Toki (at least metaphorically in the photo.) He is in the background, obviously not told about this photoshoot or even with an ice cream. The episode is about Toki's role in the band, thus in the family, being ignored and pushed out. He's losing his identity and family. Despite all of Toki's work toward building a perfect family, he is still not enough for them.

Then we get to the photo above Toki's bed. It's the same photo but instead of Aslaug's normal dead stare, he is looking directly at the photo in Toki's hand with an angry expression. It's his looming presence once more taking over Toki's life. How it's all coming full circle and that no matter what, he will always that little boy in his father's clutches, unable to find a family that cares about him.

This also could be his father's anger influencing Toki's own anger toward his family. Toki is his son, a very angry and controlling man. He's taking lessons from that anger, smashing the photograph on the floor after this. The point of this episode is Toki creating his own club, the Special Persons Invites Club. Toki is the leader of said club. You know who else was a leader of a "club"? Aslaug. The reverend. His father.

In Season 4, this is the beginning of Toki seriously questioning his position in the band, looking for outside community (Camp, Magnus, Rockso), his feud with Skwisgaar as lead guitarist heightens, try's to shape himself into whatever another band member (Murderface) needs him as so they don't throw him away (Dethsiduals, Breakupklok), and him physically separating himself from the band at the funeral. All of that then follows Doomstar Requiem, which proves to Toki that his family and identity is the band!

Conclusion

The photos in his room, the ones that stay and the ones that change, are clever ways for the viewer to interpret Toki's life and the mindset of the people in his room. Obviously, there's a thousand reasons why those photos could be on his wall, but I think this makes the most sense to me.

Ok bye :)

[kinkandkreep]

♡︎ 𝐂𝐖: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 '𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

♡︎ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭

♡︎ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭

ʰᵉʸ ʰᵉʸ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ! ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃ ᶠᵃⁱʳ ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵈᵉˡᵛᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ, ⁱ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ ˡⁱᵇᵉʳᵗⁱᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ⁱᶻᵃⁿᵃ'ˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ˢⁱᵐᵖˡʸ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿⁱᶜᵃˡ ᶠᵃᶜᵗˢ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ, ᵈᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱ'ᵐ ᵃⁿ ᵃⁿⁱᵐᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢⁱᵈᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃ ᶠᵉʷ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘⁿᵃᵛᵒⁱᵈᵃᵇˡᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁱˡᵉʳˢ, ⁱ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵏⁱⁿᵈᵃ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ. 🙃 ˢᵒ ʸᵉᵃʰ, ⁱᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵗᵃⁱˡˢ ⁱ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃʳᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵒᶠᶠ, ᵃ.) ⁱ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇ.) ᵗʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʷʰʸ. 😂 ᵃˡʳⁱᵍʰᵗʸ, ʷᵉˡˡ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ, ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ! 👋🏾

Mikey hasn’t returned home.

Ken left a little while ago, after you assured him many times that you would be alright on your own and wouldn’t lash out and do anything drastic. 

“Though you’d be well within your rights to,” he’d said, causing a small, strained, albeit genuine smile to curl your lips. 

With a final hug and firm, comforting squeeze of reassurance from the tattooed man, you were finally left alone with your thoughts. Back to the front door, you let your eyes roam around your living area, gaze momentarily catching on each of the photos of you and your husband strategically scattered about the space. 

‘Now, how do I make that son of a bitch pay?’

Deciding to take advantage of the time you have alone before Manjiro presumably returns, you make the decision to do a little redecorating. 

You’re not entirely sure he’ll notice- especially not now, as entranced as he is with that whore of his- but you hope that at least to some degree, the subtle changes will cause a cold, looming shower of dread to trickle over his being. 

You don’t want to be too direct just yet, having decided that this learning process for Manjiro cannot be rushed. No, you’re going to take your time, and maybe even have a little fun. 

It’s strange, you think. How the initial shock and sorrow wore off so quickly, only to leave burning rage and bitterness in its wake. 

Perhaps it’s because subconsciously, you knew all along the truth. Perhaps it’s because deep down, you always knew something like this would happen. 

Despite yourself, you can feel tears threatening to build at the latter thought, and so you quickly push it away. 

You’ve not shed a tear for that piece of shit yet, and you’re not about to start now.

Continuing your journey around your living room, you begin removing certain pictures from their frames, replacing them with others. 

The photo of you and Mikey at the beach when you were a bit younger? Replaced with a photo of you and Ken from that same day. 

The photo of you and Mikey smiling big and bright on his CB250T the day he got it out from the shop following a minor accident? Replaced with one of you and Takashi smiling at each other at his workshop.

You smile fondly as you recall the memory associated with that photo. Takashi had made your wedding dress, and at the time that photo was taken, you’d been discussing the details with him. 

Several other photos are taken down and replaced as well, until you arrive at what is perhaps the most poignant one of them all. 

It’s of you and Manjiro on your wedding day, looking so young and in love, who’d have ever thought that it would ever come to this?

The picture was taken by your friend Shuji from high school. You remember with a chuckle how much of an absolute menace he used to be when you were younger, but it brings you pride, the thought of the respectable young man he’d turned out to be. 

He ran a freelance photography business, and when you’d approached him about being the photographer for your big day, to your surprise, he’d jumped at the opportunity, even offering to do so for free.

You still paid him, generously in fact, your heart warmed by his thoughtfulness. 

It almost pains you to hide that wonderfully taken photo away, but if you’re to make a point, the photo’s got to go. 

It is replaced with one of you and Manjiro's adoptive brother, Izana. 

The picture catches you and him mid laugh at something most likely he’d said, one of your hands gently clutched in his, nails partially painted. Izana holds the nail polish brush in his left hand, his head tilted back as he guffaws. 

You recall that day like it was yesterday, though it’s been quite some time. 

Your friend group had just recently celebrated the grand opening of Izana’s first nail salon in Shibuya. The man was so ecstatic, he practically vibrated with excitement for the entirety of the event.

It was a little unusual, given how collected Izana always was, but you were all extremely happy for him and his success. 

As part of the event, Izana and his team gave out free manicures to the first 10 people who entered the store and inquired about their services, then offering nail services at a discounted price to the next 15. 

You hadn’t expected him to approach you and offer to give you a free manicure, as you were just there to show your support, but with how skilled Izana was, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity. 

As you sat in one of the plush, high-end massage chairs and awaited your service, you studied Izana as he went about tending to some of the other patrons and his staff members before dedicating his full attention to you. 

Izana had a somewhat rocky childhood. He has a Filipino mother and Japanese father. Because of this, he moved back and forth a lot, never quite settling down and stabilizing in any one place. 

Eventually, once he was a little older, he did settle in Japan with his dad following his mother’s death. Growing up, Izana was left to his own devices most times, and this allowed him to get into some less than savory situations. 

Thankfully, he eventually straightened out and found his passion in nail artistry. He painted his nails in his younger years to express himself, finding later that he wanted to help others do the same. 

That led to now, and as you continue to observe your good friend turned brother-in-law, you can’t help but smile at how far he’s come. 

Izana is undoubtedly good looking too, but you’ve never known him to be with anyone. The thought strikes you as a bit strange, but you decide to leave it alone. 

After a bit, he finally makes his way back over to you, apologizing for the delay and laying out his tools. 

You decide to get something simple yet seasonally appropriate. It was the spring time when Izana opened up shop, and if you recall correctly you got a simple olive green nail base with white and yellow daisies painted on top. 

Izana worked thoroughly and efficiently, and the finished product had been so delicate and pretty you’d gone back for that same design before the season was up. 

The two of you chatted throughout the duration of your service that day, laughing and reminiscing. You couldn’t stop gushing about how proud you were of Izana, missing his fond gaze and lightly flushed cheeks. 

Now, in the present moment, you feel yourself smiling widely. Despite the unfortunate circumstance, you felt much lighter after having gazed upon the happy faces of those most important to you.

With the final photo in place, you head into the bathroom, preparing to freshen up before heading to bed. It’s late, and you’re frankly more than a little tired and worn out. 

After completing your routine, you head into the bedroom, switching into pajamas and sliding underneath the covers. 

You’re just about to drift off when you hear a key in the front lock, the hollow sound of the front door opening and footsteps followed by the low creak of it swinging shut. 

It’s Manjiro. 

The footsteps move through the living room, pausing at odd intervals. 

You hope it’s because he’s noticed the photos. 

Eventually, the steps begin making their way upstairs. You notice that they’re slow, even; almost like Manjiro’s trying to be as quiet as possible. 

He stops right outside the shut bedroom door, probably figuring it odd that door is shut in the first place. 

If he’s out and you’ve gone to bed, you typically leave it open in anticipation of him. But this time, you’ve shut it, almost as if you’re passively, subconsciously shutting him out as well. 

The doorknob twists slowly, before stopping entirely. You hear Manjiro make his way to the bathroom, the sound of the switch flicking on and the door starting to shut before it pauses. 

Again, you hope he’s taken notice. 

You removed your wedding ring before you got in the shower, setting it in the most obvious place and neglecting to replace it before you left the room. 

If nothing else, this should cause the greatest alarm for Manjiro. 

You never take your ring off. In fact, up until this point, you hadn’t removed it since the day Manjiro slid it onto your finger. 

It’s silent for many seconds, before you hear the door swing completely shut and water begin to run. 

You’re still tired however, and for as much as you’d like to gauge Manjiro’s expression when he enters the bedroom, you feel your eyes droop and shut, and after some minutes, you’re off to the Land of Nod. 

It’s a shame you don’t stay awake for just a bit longer, because when Manjiro exits the shower room, he has your ring clutched tightly in his hand. 

Carefully making his way over to your sleeping form, he gently coaxes one of your hands out from underneath the covers, slipping the ring back into place before leaning over to place a single kiss on your forehead. 

“I’m sorry, __.” 

ᵃ/ⁿ: 👀 👀 👀 ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵈⁱˢ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʰᵉʳᵉ? ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ʰᵃˢ ᵇᵉᵍᵘⁿ ʰᵉʳ (ᵗᵒᵏʸᵒ) ʳᵉᵛᵉⁿᵍᵉ(ʳˢ) ᵖˡᵃⁿ. ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˢᶜʳᵉʷ ᵃʳᵒⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐⁱᵏᵉʸ'ˢ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵉˡˢᵉ. ⁱ'ᵐ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ. 😈 ⁱ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ ˢᶜʳᵉʷ ⁱⁿ ᶠⁱᶜˢ, ᵉˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡˡʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵉᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃʳᵗʸ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵈᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉˢ ⁱᵗ. ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ. ˢᵉᵉ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ ˡᵃᵗᵉʳ! 👋🏾